Warlock Apprentice Chapter 1322: Section 1323: The Knight's Wind

Chapter 1322: Section 1323: The Knight’s Wind

Upon receiving this news, Lyon’s thoughts began to waver.

However, the duel on the stage had not yet concluded, and since he had been invited to act as the referee, as a mber of the judging panel, he naturally had to remain faithful to his duty. Forcing himself to suppress his emotions, Lyon refocused his attention on the stage.

Angel, on the other hand, was not as impatient as Lyon, probably because… although he did not partake in the capture of Rolando, he had in fact witnessed the entire process of interrogating him. Thus, with a clear idea in his mind, he was considerably more composed.

The battle on the stage had now reached its final monts.

Both combatants still had energy to spare, but their ntal states were both showing signs of fatigue from the intense fighting.

Especially Tullas, who appeared to be on his last legs. His eyelids drooped from ti to ti, and his gaze had begun to blur.

...

In a duel of this level, if both offense and defense are evenly matched, indeed, the attacker is more likely to tire first.

From start to finish, Tullas was thinking about how to break through Sir Sabel’s “circle,” with all kinds of brainstorming and odd tactics keeping him on edge, hence his condition was slightly worse than Sabel’s.

On the other side, Sir Sabel had hardly moved; within his “circle,” the Knight’s Stiletto responded as if it were an extension of his will. Although it was also ntally taxing, it was much less so compared to Tullas.

“It seems the battle is about to end,” Angel murmured softly.

At this mont, Lyon also nodded. Under these circumstances, it was difficult for Tullas to turn defeat into victory.

And indeed it was so. In such an exhausted state, Tullas still had to continue his offensive to pressure Sir Sabel, but now, flaws had begun to appear in his attacks. During an instance of blurred vision, Tullas was struck by Sir Sabel’s sword on his leather armor.

Instead of piercing through, the slender blade of the Knight’s Stiletto, under the force of a skillful blow, took on a semi-circular arc.

The pigeon-blood red gem on the cross-guard of the sword suddenly flashed a streak of Red light.

With a ‘click,’ Tullas’s pupils contracted, and he lost control of his body, which had been suspended in mid-air; he was pushed outward by a force coming from the tip of the Knight’s sword and fell heavily to the ground.

anwhile, Sir Sabel slightly bowed his head, slowly sheathing the Knight’s Rapier in its scabbard.

Facing Angel, Sir Sabel bowed deeply in a Knight’s salute, seemingly in response to Angel’s whisper before the match.

Angel returned the nod, then glanced at Monroe, whose mind seed to be elsewhere: “City Lord Monroe, it’s ti to announce the result.”

Monroe returned to her senses and, after coughing twice, rose to her feet and looked toward the stage: “The competition is over, and I declare the winner is… ”

However, as Monroe spoke, she suddenly paused. She turned back to Angel; “My lord, I see that Sheriff Tullas has not yet fallen from the stage, and he seems to have the strength to fight again?”

Angel replied calmly, “He has already lost.”

Monroe dared not question Angel’s decision and imdiately called out loudly, “The winner is—Sir Sabel!”

Suddenly, shouts of “Sir Sabel!” dominated the entire venue. Aside from so fangirls who were still worried about Tullas’s condition, everyone was chanting Sir Sabel’s na.

As for Sir Sabel himself, he appeared unaffected by the near-deafening accolades, as if such adoration was already familiar to him. This made Angel faintly envision behind that aged visage, a younger image of himself—an imposing Knight Commander on the battlefield!

Only a Knight who has experienced the glory of accolades from the masses could exhibit such nonchalance.

This was indeed similar to the composure Sir Sabel had shown himself.

Sir Sabel did not respond to the cheers from the stands but quietly approached Angel, his eyes flickering, seemingly with questions to ask.

But just then,

a shadow suddenly covered the tens of ters to the stage, appearing directly behind Sir Sabel. Its speed so swift it seed like a fleeting illusion!

By the ti Sir Sabel sensed soone behind him, it was too late.

He turned his head only to see Tullas, his eyes bloodshot and appearing no longer lucid.

Tullas’s lips kept muttering, “I won’t lose, I won’t lose…”

The fierce attack, with the gleam of the scythe’s silver light, ca straight at him.

Even if Sir Sabel wanted to draw his sword to respond, he had no ti. As Tullas’s impending attack was about to strike, in that lightning-fast mont, Sir Sabel felt a burst of great force from behind push him aside, and at the sa ti a figure stepped in front of Tullas.

It was Angel.

“It’s ti to face reality,” Angel grabbed Tullas’s hand, his voice reaching his ears.

However, at this point, Tullas was already in a state of unclear consciousness, utterly unable to discern who was confronting him, and imdiately launched a second attack on Angel.

Within the span of re seconds, Angel and Tullas exchanged several blows in a rapid contest of offense and defense.

The more Tullas fought, the redder his eyes grew. And surprisingly to the onlookers, Tullas’s strength continued to rise, and even in his confused state, he was able to dodge all sorts of moves through sheer instinct.

Seeing this, Sir Sabel felt it was incredible.

His clarity gone, yet he was several tis stronger than before! Had Tullas fought him with his current strength, Sir Sabel believed he might have been at a disadvantage.

What was most puzzling was that Tullas’s strength seed to have no limit—it grew stronger as he fought.

Angel also noticed this trend; now Tullas’s strength was slowly starting to resemble the level he had when Angel first saw him, in that undead state…

Looking into Tullas’s perplexed eyes, Angel sighed. It was likely that his confused mind had inadvertently triggered the mories of his ti as undead, causing a resurgence of his battle instincts and leading to the escalating strength as the fight progressed.

In these circumstances, it’s probably going to be difficult to wake Tullas up again.

This guy now fights to the death with whoever he catches.

Angel glanced around with his peripheral vision.

The audience was all in shock, still unaware of what had happened. How could Tullas have suddenly risen again and even started fighting with soone on the judging panel?

Angel didn’t want to continue causing a scene with Tullas here and made a decision quietly.

As Tullas charged at him again, Angel didn’t move, the sickle almost reaching his eye socket. Lyon cried out in alarm at his side, and everyone’s heart leaped.

But just then, the figure of Tullas suddenly disappeared.

There was nothing around, no trace at all. If it weren’t for the nurous scratches that appeared on the platform during Tullas’s fight with Sabel, everyone would have thought that what had just happened might have been a dream.

However, after waking from the dream, there was an uproar.

Where had Tullas gone? Suddenly, that beca a hot topic of conversation.

Angel didn’t offer any explanation but walked to the judges’ area and looked at Sabel, who was still sowhat dazed, and nodded gently, “You did well, Tullas needed to be taken down a notch.”

When Sabel ca back to his senses, his expression darkened: “In reality, if Tullas had used the strength he just displayed, I would still be no match for him.”

“That was an accident. In this duel, you are the only victor,” Angel paused, “With City Lord Monroe as a witness, your victory is an indisputable fact.”

Having said this, Angel looked to Monroe, “With Sir Sabel’s help, City Lord Monroe will have another great general when managing Originheart City.”

Monroe smiled without speaking, but his expression was still respectful and cautious.

“Now that the battle is over, we should leave,” Angel said, looking toward Lyon.

Lyon’s mind was already elsewhere, and he nodded without hesitation.

However, just as Angel was about to leave, Sabel suddenly said, “Wait, may I ask a few questions?”

Angel turned his head back to look at Sabel.

“Where is Tullas now? And, are you a Transcendent?”

Angel: “Is that all you want to ask? If those are your only questions, you can ask Frode. He will give you the answers.”

Angel glanced at Monroe, signalling him to take Sabel to et Frode. Then he turned and disappeared with Lyon into the still-boisterous Colosseum.

Once out of sight, the two brothers returned to reality.

Pat Manor was still very peaceful, and Sanders and Suise had not yet returned. Lyon left first, saying he was going to Gru Town, and told the Servants to prepare food and drinks in advance.

Lyon’s thinking still lay within the limits of ordinary people; he hadn’t considered that Official Wizards hardly ever ate, let alone magical food.

However, from Lyon’s excited deanor, it was obvious that he had great respect for the red-haired Suise.

After Lyon left, Angel didn’t leave but took out Dead’s Church and placed it on the table. Then, he sent a Spirit Tentacle into it.

Before entering Tullas’s room, he heard a miserable scream from inside the door.

“I should not have lost; I wasn’t even thrown out of the ring… I am the king of the Eastern Seas, the man who could defeat the legendary Pirate Redbeard… How could I lose to an unknown, fraudulent Knight!”

“Need I remind you again that when you died, Redbeard wasn’t even ten years old,” Angel’s voice suddenly entered Tullas’s ears.

Tullas’s figure abruptly stiffened, and after a while, he responded with a resentful voice, “That’s not important.”

In the past, whenever the matter of Redbeard ca up, Tullas would vehently refute, but this ti he fell silent, showing that he truly felt defeated.

“You think you haven’t lost because you weren’t thrown out of the ring?” Angel asked.

Tullas hesitated for a mont, then nodded.

Angel didn’t say anything, but instead presented the scene of the fight at that ti using an Illusion.

After seeing the situation from that ti, Angel asked again, “Do you still believe you haven’t lost?”

At that ti, Tullas was extrely weary, revealing a flaw that was seized by Sabel. Sabel could have plunged the Rapier into Tullas’s chest, but he didn’t, instead slightly lifting the Rapier to aim for the leather armor.

Sabel didn’t penetrate the leather armor, purely using a skillful force to send Tullas flying out.

Then, Tullas was weightless in mid-air. A little more strength from Sabel, and the rebounding force would have ejected Tullas from the platform.

But, Sabel didn’t do so, instead leaving so dignity for Tullas, only letting him fall at the edge of the platform.

Sabel had held back twice in a row, showing enough grace, and didn’t deliver another blow when Tullas struggled to rise.

Tullas really wanted to say that a fight was a fight, and not falling out of the ring ant he hadn’t lost… but, after all, this was not a battle to the death, and he and Sabel were not enemies.

Tullas lowered his head, no longer arguing, which was a tacit acknowledgnt of the result of the fight.

Watching Tullas in this state, Angel felt a slight sense of relief. Taking Tullas down a peg could help him settle his restless heart.