One of the Seven Old Gods, the Old God who commands the First Law—Holy—and the Second Law—Light.
"The Holy Church? I thought that Church vanished years ago during the faith wars. I never expected them to be here in Al," Stephen said, surprised. "I really didn’t see that coming."
Victor fastened his vambrace as Lewis, smiling, explained, "The Holy Church’s doctrine is ’Soundless and Lightless,’ so it’s not surprising that you’re unfamiliar with them, Mr. Stephen."
"The match is about to start. I’m quite eager to see who’ll co out on top," Lewis added.
"We shall see," said Ferdinand.
Outside the awning sheltering Al and the others, a circle of people stood leaning against the large blocks of ice that cooled the stands. They were either Demon Hunters recruited by Al, n under Ferdinand’s command, or a few freelancers.
Zod and Maguire were among them.
"Zod, who are you betting on? I’ll follow your lead," Maguire said enthusiastically.
Over the past few days, by following the old drunk Zod’s lead, he had won quite a few bets and made a decent amount of extra cash.
He was feeling pretty pleased with himself.
Zod used his knife to carve a large chunk of ice from the block behind him and dropped it into his flask. After shaking it, he took a big swig, wiped the drink from his beard, and said, "Gray."
"Huh? Why him? Andre’s Black Iron Tier, but isn’t he almost done collecting the Magic Potions for his promotion? Besides, Gray’s on a six-win streak and Andre’s on a five-win streak. It’s just a one-match difference..."
Maguire’s confidence began to waver.
He had watched both of them fight. Gray was the type to work miracles through sheer power, wielding his Giant Axe with blinding speed in a relentless storm of attacks.
Andre, on the other hand, was a master of technique, using his years of life-or-death experience to navigate the blade’s edge with effortless grace.
The relatively stable betting odds for both fighters reflected this truth.
And on a personal level, even though Andre had once been at odds with them, he was still a fellow Demon Hunter recruited by Al.
Not to ntion that when questioned by a crowd of Demon Hunters before the match, Andre had given the suprely confident reply, "I’ll win."
For both professional and personal reasons, he felt that betting on Andre was probably a good choice.
But Zod just said coolly, "A gut feeling."
Just then, an Attendant ca by to collect and confirm bets before the match, as was custom. Zod put One Silver Coin on Gray. After a mont’s hesitation, Maguire placed a coin on Gray and another on Andre.
Zod raised an eyebrow. Maguire just scratched the back of his head, saying he wasn’t hoping to win big and didn’t mind a small loss.
’Still just a greenhorn.’ Zod took a sip from his flask.
With a blast of the whistle from the announcer on the stage, the fight began to the roar of the crowd.
Gray spun his Iron Axe, making it whistle through the air with intimidating force.
Andre drew his Alchemy Long Saber—a Demon-Hunting Blade, standard issue for most Gillian Demon Hunters. Forged from fine steel and treated with Red rcury Refining, its edge was sharp enough to slice through the iron-like hide of a Rhino Armored Beast.
At the announcer’s signal, the fight began and all bets were closed.
The Barbarian Bear Knight instantly charged forward, bringing his Iron Axe down on Andre like a butcher’s cleaver! The attack was ferociously fast, as unstoppable as a water wheel caught in a raging current.
Despite being prepared for it, Andre was still caught off guard.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t anticipated Gray’s explosive opening. He had ntally braced himself for Gray’s imnse strength, but the force that traveled up his Long Saber—a force that grew stronger with each successive blow—still left Andre stunned.
’How could he be a Barbarian Bear Knight? He’s a literal barbarian bear!’
Even enhanced by Magic Potions, Andre could barely withstand such overwhelming power! The webbing of his thumb throbbed with pain, and the attacks were so ferocious he could hardly pull his Long Saber back to disengage.
Especially with the utterly savage look on Gray’s face as he swung, Andre felt that if he dared try to pull his blade back and pivot, the Giant Axe would cleave him in two.
’Even in a tournant!’
Down in the stands, Ferdinand comnted nonchalantly, "With such overwhelming pressure, it looks like the outco is already decided. Lady Al’s man is ultimately no match for this Barbarian Bear Knight."
"This is more or less what I expected, though I didn’t think it would be over this quickly."
He chuckled. "Could it be that Lady Al was duped by her own subordinate? Or perhaps this Andre is all show and no substance?"
Al’s pretty face grew cold, and she was about to ignore him, but Victor at her side spoke up, dutifully upholding Honesty, one of the Eight Knightly Virtues:
"Mr. Ferdinand, you are incorrect. Mr. Andre is not as pathetic as you claim. It is simply that Gray is too strong."
Ferdinand looked like he had just swallowed a turd.
’What the hell is wrong with this Glorious Knight Order Leader? I get that as a Faith Knight, you have to be honest, but you could have just kept your damn mouth shut and still been honest!’
Seeing Ferdinand’s foul expression, Lewis coughed to redirect the conversation. "And what is your take on this, Mr. Stephen?"
Stroking his beard, Stephen analyzed, "Ten more strikes."
"In ten more strikes, Gray will have to catch his breath. His fighting style consus an enormous amount of stamina. The mont he pauses for air will be his mont of weakness."
Down below, Zod was explaining to Maguire.
Maguire nodded, then asked in puzzlent, "Zod, how is it you know everything?"
Zod took a drink from his flask and pointed to his ear. "Why do you think I picked this spot by Lady Al’s awning? If you pay a little attention, you can hear exactly what the important people think, can’t you?"
Maguire nodded as if to say ’lesson learned,’ then focused his attention back on the rapidly unfolding fight on the stage.
Faced with Andre’s desperate parries, Gray rely snorted in contempt. ’Combat Skills? In the face of absolutely overwhelming power, they’re nothing!’
One strike, two, three... The flashing arc of the axe surrounded him and Andre like an iron cage.
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