Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations
“Card: Garden of the Twilight Goddess.”
This card in his card set had a healing effect which was as powerful as level-2 cantrips. However, it was very costly to use since he could only make one of these every other two days.
After using “Garden of the Twilight Goddess”, the wound on Blackjack’s arm was almost healed. At the same time, a tiny, golden arrow was removed from his damaged muscles by the healing effect.
Blackjack looked at the golden arrow and grimaced.
“A long-range alchemy weapon? So that was how he attacked me so fast!” A hint of greed showed up in Blackjack’s eyes. In Brute Cavern, where alchemists were rare, alchemy weapons were beyond valuable. Let alone a long-range weapon which could be used by level-1 apprentices.
“That alchemy weapon will be mine! Once I’m healed, I’ll use my Card: Punishment for the Hanged Man, and I’ll break the chick’s wings into pieces! Fafafafa!” Blackjack laughed in a low voice. “He’s just an inexperienced chick who doesn’t know when to double tap his enemy. Must be a new wizard who never witnessed the cruelty of this world. He still has the pathetic sympathy of a mortal. Now, I only need to lay low and pretend to be weak, and he’ll hesitate, then I can crash him under my feet…”
Thinking about this, Blackjack put up a weak but stubborn and determined expression. He watched mortal dramas before, and he knew such a display always did a good job of moving people’s emotions.
Ha! The chick will cry at my performance!
Blackjack directed his dramatic expression at Baron Milk, hoping to stop his action. Five seconds would do!
However, when Blackjack noticed what Baron Milk was doing, he felt his breath blocked and almost wanted to cough up blood.
“‘Chick’ my ass! That’s a shameless bastard!”
He was hit by the alchemy weapon six seconds ago. Six! Seconds! Ago!
And Baron Milk already put up FOUR defensive spells in front of his face!
And the brat was still chanting something else!!
“Are you afraid to get hurt so badly?! Is your spell combination all about defense spells?”
When Blackjack’s wound was completely cured by Twilight Goddess, Baron Milk was behind the protection of seven spells in total. Four defense ones, and three control ones that prevented people from approaching. There was also a firewall made from a combo of Grease and Ember.
“Shameless! Impudent! Stupid! You dirty smurfing arse!”
Even level-2 apprentices would probably need five or six seconds to penetrate all that defense. Blackjack was only level-1, and he needed at least half a minute!
Angor did not feel ashamed at all. He planned to trick his way to the top level of Sky Tower from the start, so some cursing words would not hurt. Besides, he had way dirtier tricks up his sleeves. No one knew his real identity anyway. He was a wordless and arrogant Baron Milk at this very moment!
Angor lifted a hand and another golden beam was released from his sleeve.
Blackjack had just barely recovered from his wound, and he was in no condition to dodge this one. The golden arrow pierced his right arm this time.
Angor’s attack did not end here. A number of small golden arrows came rushing from him non-stop and aimed for Blackjack’s vital points as if Angor was simply throwing away free candies rather than using a valuable alchemy weapon.
Blackjack was terrified of the barrage in the air. From his remaining two cards, he quickly took out a card with the picture of a cross shield on it.
“Card: Knight Shield!” Blackjack placed the shield in front of him which helped him deflect some of the arrows. However, under the constant attacks, the shield began to crack.
“Stop! I give up! Please!” Blackjack yelled loudly and tossed his profile card into the air.
He could neither break open his opponent’s defense nor escape from the deadly arrows. Any longer and he would drop dead for sure!
The Sky Tower arenas did not forbid people from killing each other. However, as long as someone surrendered and threw his or her profile card, the arena judge would activate a spell array to separate the participants instantly.
When the card was shown in the air, a magic array appeared quickly, along with a faint glass barrier which showed up between Angor and Blackjack, blocking Angor’s further attacks.
[Winner: Baron Milk]
As the screen above the arena announced the end of the match, Blackjack’s profile card released a light beam in the air. It then flew toward Angor’s pocket and disappeared into Angor’s card.
Angor took out his card to check. A message showing his victory against Blackjack was now shown on the card. He had just earned three match points. Also, according to the number of matches and the victory rate of Blackjack, he also gained 150 merit points as a reward.
“Not bad. At least that’s enough to pay for my bolts,” said Angor as he put away his profile card and strolled off the stage.
Blackjack slumped on the ground. He had several bleeding holes on his body. Several workers of the tower came and carried him away.
When Arena 7 returned to being unoccupied, the audiences all exclaimed in wonder.
“But Lord Blackjack! He was going to snap the chick’s wings! How—”
“Chick?! He destroyed Blackjack! There’s no way he’s a chick.”
“Maybe it’s a level-3 apprentice hidden under that robe?”
Almost all the audiences were mere mortals, so they could only take blind guesses. The few apprentices among them, however, also whispered to each other.
“Blackjack lost? THE Blackjack?”
“Didn’t you see Baron Milk used his alchemy weapon? A long-range weapon at that!”
“Of course I did! Damn it! I want one!”
“Let’s wait when the kid got no one around and take his stuff!”
“We don’t know who he is. A level-1 apprentice with a powerful alchemy weapon means someone really strong is supporting him. Let’s not look for trouble.”
“Coward!”
As Angor returned to the backstage waiting room, all the other participants now looked at him with completely different emotions. Fear, astonishment… and mostly, greed.
Angor walked to the lottery box again. The middle-aged woman watched his match too. She glanced at the boy’s robe-covered wrist and revealed an inconspicuous smile.
“Mister Baron Milk, do you want to keep going?”
Angor nodded. He was stressed because it was his very first battle, and he exhausted most of his mana by casting seven spells in one go. Still, a little meditation should keep him going for several more matches. It was unlikely that he would keep running into opponents like Blackjack.
“Alright. Draw a lottery please.”
Angor reached a hand into the box — adeptly this time — and took out a ball using his instinct.
035325.
The woman took over the ball. Soon, a line appeared on the screen in front of her: [Baron Milk VS Ashen Warrior. In 30 minutes. Sky Tower Level 1, Arena 6.]
…
While trying to ignore the whispers of discussion among people, Angor moved to a far corner and closed his eyes to meditate. He was still displaying his “leave me alone” temperament.
He had not even meditated for long when he heard similar footsteps again.
“The fate guided YOU, not ME,” said Angor without opening his eyes.
“Hey, Milk, I saw your fight. You’re so good!” White Bear still sounded joyful as ever.
“Don’t call me ‘Milk’.”
“Baron, was that an alchemy weapon? Nice! Did you get it from Master Prome?”
“What’s it to do with you?” Angor opened his eyes this time and inspected the man in front of him from under his hood.
The man was still in his white bear costume and was wearing the same smiling face. However, he was holding a short, black-painted magic cane this time.
Angor sighed in his mind. Why did this guy keep buzzing him?
“I’m just curious. In Brute Cavern, there are only a handful of people who own alchemy weapons, and people have already squeezed every last bit of information out of them. But your weapon only showed up for the first time. It didn’t look like any of theirs.”
“So what?” Angor grew impatient. “Again, what do you want from me?”
White Bear kept smiling. “Our fate intertwined, so I’m destined to meet you again.”
“You crept up on me yourself. Don’t give me that fate nonsense.” Angor waved a hand. “If you’re not going to talk, just leave me be. I have matches coming up. I have to rest.”
Hearing these, White Bear took his cane and walked away, still smiling.
When the figure of White Bear finally disappeared into the crowd, Angor frowned and wondered what was the deal with that man.
After meditating for about ten minutes, Angor heard footsteps again. They sounded heavy this time when compared to White Bear’s footsteps.
Angor looked up in frustration and realized it was Blackjack.
The man was heavily bandaged up. Neither his top-hat nor his monocle was there. Angor could clearly see his short, grayish-green hair and handsome face this time.
“You—” Angor opened his mouth and immediately realized he was “Baron Milk” for the moment, so he only let out a snort in the end.
He waited for Blackjack to speak first.
“I lost the match and I admit it. But I warn you! Don’t you tell my secret to anyone, or I’ll make sure to mess up your life, even if it costs mine!”
The words sounded firm and determined. But Angor still did not know what Blackjack meant. Secret? Was it about Blackjack’s dressing style which he copied from Sunders?
Angor checked Blackjack carefully. Without his hat, the short gray-green hair looked almost exactly the same with Sunders’ own hair. Also, Blackjack’s face kinda looked familiar.
“Don’t tell me he’s the professor’s bastard son?” Angor quickly thought about a touching love story in which a bastard son sought to be accepted by his stern father by mimicking his father’s clothing and character. However, the merciless father completely disregarded his effort, which caused the son to develop a twisted mindset and found joy in torturing newbies…
After warning Angor, Blackjack limped away on his walking cane.
“Sigh… poor son.” Angor looked at Blackjack’s pathetic figure and concluded the story he just made up.
