The private room door was pushed open.
Olivia rushed in, her cat-ear cap askew, silver-white hair spilling out from under the brim and spreading over her shoulders.
Zijiang followed behind, carrying the equipment case, her pink ponytail tilted to one side from walking too fast.
Liliana sat right in the middle of the sofa.
She had taken off her sunglasses and placed them on the low table, her green cat ears standing upright.
“Why are you so late? Did Little Lazy Dragon sleep in again?”
“Um… I…”
Olivia stood at the door, her cat ears tilted.
“Alright, at your age you need to rest.”
Liliana set down her water glass.
Olivia didn’t mind her teasing.
The most important thing now was to save Masiweiluo.
She walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.
The grass in the center of the arena was empty, and the runic light patterns on the protective barrier shimmered faintly.
She had watched Masiweiluo’s matches.
Seventy-two undefeated and six consecutive championships—
Even contracted knights would envy that.
But that was competition.
She didn’t know if the Night Guards would change their plans, or how they intended to strike.
She wasn’t familiar with Masiweiluo.
She had only seen her once in the arena and once in the interview area.
Once in the coliseum lobby, Masiweiluo surrounded by reporters, with her standing outside the crowd.
Another time outside a café, through the glass, she saw Masiweiluo and Viloseline sitting and talking.
That was it.
But to watch a comrade die like Brunswick had—
She wasn’t that inhuman.
No, draconic.
“Um… Sister Zijiang. I’m going out for a bit.”
She turned and walked toward the door.
“Where are you running off to now? Don’t get lost again.”
Zijiang stood up from the sofa.
“I have something urgent.”
“What urgent matter?”
“I need to see Masiweiluo.”
Liliana set down her water glass.
Pfft.
Olivia turned around.
Liliana’s green cat ears were perked, and the corners of her mouth were raised.
“Masiweiluo has already gone on stage.”
She pointed at the floor-to-ceiling window.
“If you want an autograph, big sister can take you after the match.”
Olivia ran to the window.
In the center of the arena, two people were already standing on the grass.
Masiweiluo.
Silver-white plate armor, brown hair falling from under her knight’s helmet, a lance standing at her side.
Viloseline.
Warm-gold light armor, golden hair, a rapier hanging at her waist.
The rock music on the field made the atmosphere extremely tense.
“Distinguished guests—the first elimination match—Masiweiluo—versus—Viloseline—begin!”
Cheers surged from the audience, muffled by the floor-to-ceiling glass like distant waves.
Masiweiluo charged forward.
She raised her lance from her side, the tip pointing forward.
Her feet stomped on the grass, each step landing solidly.
The lance thrust out.
Viloseline drew her rapier from her waist and blocked the tip with the blade.
The clang of metal was muffled by the barrier.
Both stepped back half a pace simultaneously, lance tip and sword tip crossing in the air—
Neither hit the other.
“As expected of the former vice-captain of the Silver Lance Knights. Impressive skills.”
“Focus on the fight.”
Masiweiluo’s voice was low.
The lance thrust again.
The tip aimed at Viloseline’s left shoulder.
Viloseline sidestepped, and the rapier swept upward from below to deflect the tip.
Masiweiluo turned with the momentum and swung the butt of the lance.
Viloseline jumped back.
The lance butt grazed past her waist, less than a fist’s width away.
They reset their distance.
Viloseline’s deer ears twitched.
Deer-kin had exceptionally sharp hearing—
They could even hear the sound of an arrow flying past.
She glanced to her left.
At the edge of the arena, toward the stands.
Then her figure flickered.
It became three.
Three Viloselines stood on the grass at once.
The same warm-gold light armor, the same rapiers.
Two clones stepped forward, blocking at Masiweiluo’s side.
The original stood still.
An arrow flew from the direction of the stands.
As it passed through the barrier, the runic light patterns flashed.
The arrow struck one clone’s shoulder.
The clone wobbled, then dissipated into golden sparks.
The arrow passed through the sparks and embedded itself in the grass.
The fletching still quivered.
No one in the audience noticed.
The cheers continued.
Someone was shouting the name of their favorite knight.
But no one saw that arrow.
The remaining two Viloselines merged into one.
She looked down at the still-quivering arrow in the grass, then raised her head.
“It’s nothing. Let’s continue, Miss Masiweiluo.”
Her lips were still curled, but her pale-gold eyes weren’t smiling.
Masiweiluo thrust her lance again.
The tip aimed at Viloseline’s chest.
Viloseline met it with her rapier, the blade sliding along the lance shaft, cutting toward Masiweiluo’s fingers.
Masiweiluo let go, the shaft turned half a circle in her palm, switching to her left hand.
The butt of the lance swept upward from below.
Viloseline leaned back, the butt passing just in front of her chin.
They separated again.
Viloseline’s deer ears twitched again.
A second arrow.
From another direction.
Black shaft, black fletching.
It passed through the barrier.
The arrow hurtled straight toward Masiweiluo’s face.
Viloseline’s figure flickered again.
Two clones appeared simultaneously.
One blocked in front of Masiweiluo, the other stepped to the side.
The arrow passed through the clone in front, which scattered into sparks.
The second arrow embedded in the grass, less than two meters from the first.
The remaining Viloseline sheathed her rapier.
“No need to mind it.”
Her voice was low.
But her eyes clearly held a trace of displeasure—
She had just instructed them:
Fight with true skill.
A fair and square duel.
And yet these Night Guards actually…
Olivia stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window.
Her silver pupils locked onto the arena.
Two arrows.
One from the left, one from the right.
The Night Guards.
They had made their move on the field.
“Viloseline’s clones are so cool!”
“How did she do that just now?”
“I couldn’t see.”
“Too fast!”
“Go Masiweiluo!”
“Match of the century!”
The Night Guards’ methods were extremely insidious—
The arrows’ entry directions were very covert.
The runic light patterns of the protective barrier still pulsed.
The two black arrows stuck in the grass were hidden by the blades.
From the audience and broadcast perspective, they could only see Viloseline’s clones flicker.
They would think she was using a skill.
Think it was a tactic.
Olivia turned and ran out of the private room.
Her silver-white hair flew behind her, the cat ears on her cap blown backward by the wind.
She ran through the passage under the stands, reaching the edge of the arena.
The protective barrier stood before her.
Pale blue runic light patterns flowed across the barrier’s surface like water ripples.
The barrier was tall, rising from the ground to the top of the stands, separating the arena from the audience.
At the bottom of the barrier was a hole.
Not big.
About the width to fit a hand.
The runic patterns flickered at the hole’s edge like skin around a wound.
The hole was in a very hidden spot, at the junction of the lowest row of seats and the grass, blocked by the railing of the front row.
The audience couldn’t see it.
The cameras couldn’t capture it.
You really had to say the Night Guards’ methods were impossibly shady.
The problem was:
She had to fix the hole now, or those bastards would keep playing dirty tricks.
The barrier’s energy source was probably the magic stones buried underground.
Injecting magic from the inside should be able to repair it.
She crouched down and reached her right hand through the hole.
Her silver-white fingers passed through the runic patterns.
The magical barrier surprisingly did not reject her.
At the edge of the hole, the light patterns flickered on and off on the back of her hand.
She pressed her palm against the inside of the barrier.
Then she closed her eyes, feeling the fluctuation of her inner magic…