The Lord Of Blood Hill Chapter 128: Just Don't Want To

As Robin heads down to prepare, Arius turns to Henwell, "Brother, go check on him. Make sure Robin doesn't get tricked."

Henwell nods and follows Bloodhorn down from the stands. When Robin starts selecting his weapons, Henwell notices he's about to choose standard knight gear and intervenes. "No need for full armor, just wear light leather. And swap the heavy sword for a hand-and-a-half sword."

Robin looks at Henwell in surprise, then snaps angrily, "Are you trying to get killed? The opponent's a knight, and without armor and a heavy sword, how am I supposed to fight?"

Henwell responds coolly, "This isn't about you showing off. Your death ans nothing, but right now, you represent Arius, and the entire duchy. If you fail, we all lose face. Do as I say or get lost!"

Robin glares at Henwell for a mont before heading to the light weapons section. "You want to admit defeat? I'll show you I'm better than you!"

After Robin selects his gear, he storms off to the waiting area for contestants. Henwell pays him no further mind and instead wanders around below, observing the preparations.

As Henwell reaches a display area showcasing various weapons and armor, he pauses. Among them hangs a lance, once one of the most dazzling gladiator weapons here, now displayed for all successors to see.

A voice beside him speaks up, "That lance is still up there. It's one of the most iconic gladiator weapons, admired by all who co after."

Bloodhorn steps up next to Henwell, giving him a thorough look. "You've really changed a lot! At first glance, I couldn't believe it was you. I thought maybe it was soone with the sa na!"

Henwell doesn't hide anything, "Mr. Bloodhorn, it's been a long ti!"

Bloodhorn gestures to the lance on display, "Want to take another look at your old companion?"

Henwell smiles and shakes his head, "It's fulfilled its purpose. Now it doesn't need to kill, just bask in the daily care and polishing."

He pats the sword at his waist, "I have a new partner to fight alongside now."

Bloodhorn picks up on the underlying aning and doesn't pursue the topic further.

"You know what surprises the most? It's not the change in your appearance or build, nor your current status. I've always believed you'd make sothing of yourself. Of course, becoming a knight lord so quickly is impressive! But what truly surprises is that you haven't changed your na. You didn't abandon your past identity; you still go by The Flash."

Henwell strolls around, admiring the display, "A na is just a label, a marker for others to identify you. It doesn't really matter what you're called."

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Bloodhorn remains silent for a mont before gesturing to the back. A few guards co over, carrying a box. They set it down and leave, giving the two so privacy to talk.

Bloodhorn opens the box, revealing neatly stacked gold coins. "I can only say I'm sorry. Consider this a token of my appreciation or compensation. Let's let the past be the past."

Henwell glances at the box, estimating there are tens of thousands of gold coins. He closes the lid. "Mr. Bloodhorn, what's this for? It was just business back then. We have no grudges. In fact, for whatever reason, you looked out for . Besides, you paid for my efforts, didn't you?"

Bloodhorn strokes his tal cane. "The Flash, your refusal worries ."

Henwell gently nudges the box back towards Bloodhorn with his foot. "Then let's find a way to interact that doesn't worry you. I'll accept this money, and we'll consider things settled. Now, I'll give it back to you as a gesture for our new relationship. We can collaborate on so things, and consider this money my gift to you."

Bloodhorn pauses, "Like before?"

"Yes, like before. Limited cooperation for mutual benefit."

"What do you want? A stake in the arena business?"

Henwell chuckles softly, "Haha... No way! That's your lifeblood. I wouldn't want to take that from you."

"Not want to? Or not dare to?"

Henwell considers for a mont, then suddenly steps forward, placing his hand on Bloodhorn's shoulder. Bloodhorn's cane barely lifts off the ground, and his left hand hasn't even ford the spell sign yet. The three-ter distance is covered in an instant, from Henwell's initial movent to touching Bloodhorn's shoulder. Bloodhorn doesn't even have ti to react, his magical defenses remain inactive as Henwell closes in.

Henwell pats Bloodhorn's shoulder lightly, "I just don't want to."

Bloodhorn mutters, "Grand Knight!"

Henwell waves his hand, "Not quite there yet! Still a long way to go!"

Bloodhorn is genuinely shocked. Henwell's display of power far exceeds the standard of a Battle Knight. This ans Henwell is already beyond the Vague Epiphany level, nearing the Touch of Dawn tier.

Bloodhorn himself is rely a vague class sorcerer, and despite being on guard, Henwell still manages to close the distance effortlessly. While many sorcerers possess decent close combat abilities, they're ultimately spellcasters. Comparing their lee skills to knights is laughable.

Henwell's ability to get close and touch Bloodhorn's shoulder ans he could easily decapitate him. It's at this mont that Bloodhorn realizes the young gladiator who once brought him the most profit has grown to stand alongside him—or even surpass him—as a formidable force.

What truly unsettles Bloodhorn is Henwell's age. A Battle Knight in his early twenties? With Henwell's current prowess, it's certain he'll beco a dawn class Grand Knight before thirty. This implies that in his lifeti, Henwell has a significant chance of achieving the rising sun class Iron Knight status.

Such a figure is one Bloodhorn must look up to, even within their organization, where such individuals are part of the true upper echelon.

Bloodhorn steadies himself, "Sir, what kind of collaboration are you interested in?"

Henwell smiles, "Let's take our ti discussing it."

Henwell reveals his true strength because he knows Bloodhorn is backed by a formidable organization. Despite extensive investigation, Henwell hasn't uncovered any concrete leads. The organization appears vast, with many extraordinary individuals among its ranks.

Bloodhorn's arena and the Forge Furnace training camp are rely the tip of the iceberg. The fact that Henwell hasn't even discovered the organization's na after over three years of investigation highlights its prowess.

In the lounge, Henwell raises his wine glass, "To cut to the chase, I know you have access to extraordinary potions, and I want those potions. I have an official status and several discreet trade caravans. I can procure rare resources from Vorry Duchy, Ogiro Kingdom, and even Ika Kingdom. In return, I need you to provide with a steady supply of extraordinary potions. And if there are secret thods for extraordinary individuals, I'm willing to pay a high price."