Chapter 72: Red Horn

The lights in the center of the arena came on.

Chijiao walked out of the competitor’s tunnel.

His entire body was covered in a deep red suit of armor, the plates layered one on top of another, wrapping from his shoulders all the way down to his ankles.

The helmet concealed his entire face, leaving only a narrow slit at the eyes.

From that slit, a dark red glow bled through.

In his hand, he held a long-handled battle axe.

The blade was larger than an ordinary person’s head.

Eternal Night Plains craftsmanship—

The axe body was engraved with dark elf patterns, and within those patterns, dark red luminescent material had been embedded, like congealed blood.

His opponent stood at the other end of the arena.

A wolf tribe knight, wearing silver-gray half-plate armor, with a short sword in each hand.

But Chijiao was a full two heads taller than his opponent.

“Fight! — Begin!”

The wolf charged forward.

He crossed his twin swords to block the first strike of the battle axe.

The sound of metal clashing was muffled by the protective barrier.

He slipped under the axe blade and thrust his short swords at Chijiao’s side.

The tips struck the joint of the armor, scraping off a shower of sparks.

There wasn’t even a dent left on Chijiao’s armor.

Chijiao turned.

The battle axe swept horizontally.

The wolf leaped back, the axe blade passing less than a fist’s width from his chest.

About three minutes passed.

The wolf’s twin swords carved a dozen sparks across Chijiao’s armor, but not one thrust pierced through.

Every time Chijiao’s axe nearly struck, the wolf dodged with speed and agility.

In that kind of back-and-forth stalemate, it was basically a waiting game.

Whoever made a mistake first—

Or whoever ran out of stamina first.

Then the wolf made a mistake.

When he cut in from the left side, he took half a step too far.

Chijiao’s axe handle slammed into his shoulder.

His whole body tilted sideways.

The battle axe came down vertically.

The wolf raised both swords to block.

The axe blade struck the sword bodies.

Both swords snapped at once.

The axe blade continued downward, cleaving into his chest plate.

The force was so great that it even dented the chest plate inward.

The referee raised his flag.

Chijiao didn’t stop.

The battle axe came down again.

The second strike landed on the same spot.

The chest plate split open.

The wolf fell to the ground.

The third strike.

The axe blade bit into the grass.

Mud and grass blades flew up, less than a fist’s width from the wolf’s helmet.

“Stop! Fight’s over! Stop!”

The referee rushed in.

Two silver-lance knights ran in from the sidelines, crossing their long spears in front of Chijiao.

Chijiao’s battle axe was held aloft in midair.

Dark red light spilled from the slit in his helmet.

He stood there, his breathing audible from beneath the helmet.

Heavy.

The referee and the silver-lance knights carried the wolf away on a stretcher.

Chijiao remained where he was.

The battle axe slowly lowered, the butt of the shaft resting on the grass.

The announcer declared Chijiao the winner.

On Zijiang’s phone screen, the comments had already exploded.

“He was trying to kill him”

“The referee raised the flag and he still kept going”

“Chijiao should be disqualified”

“Chijiao get out of the Grand Tournament”

Another wave of comments.

“Didn’t you see the opponent was provoking him the whole time?”

“The lip movement at the start was clearly cursing him out”

“What, because he’s a dark elf, he can’t fight back?”

“Is it wrong to be strong?”

The two waves of comments scrolled across the screen.

Zijiang said nothing.

Her fingers were clenched on the edge of her phone, the knuckles white.

At the edge of the arena.

A man in a dark uniform walked up to the referee.

The Commercial Federation badge was pinned to his collar.

He bent down and whispered a few words into the referee’s ear.

The referee nodded.

The announcer raised the microphone again.

“After confirmation from the referee panel, competitor Chijiao is declared the winner. The points are valid.”

From the audience, some people booed, some clapped.

The boos and applause mingled together.

Zijiang turned her head.

“Where’s Olivia?”

One side of the booth sofa was empty.

The white cat-ear hoodie wasn’t there.

The snack plate on the low table was still there.

The water glass was still there.

The silver-white long hair was gone.

When did she leave?

Zijiang stood up and took two steps toward the booth door.

Beyond the door was the hallway.

No one.

Liliana sat on the sofa.

Her sandals were crossed, her green cat ears perked up.

She took a sip from her water glass.

“Oh. That child’s name is Olivia, nya.”

She set the glass down.

“I have no idea.”

The rest area.

The door was closed.

Chijiao sat on a bench, his battle axe leaning against the wall.

The helmet was off, resting on his knees.

His dark red pupils stared at the wall across from him.

The wall was blank.

Probably because of the fighting, his breathing hadn’t fully calmed yet.

His shoulders rose and fell with each breath.

His manager stood in front of him.

A cat tribe male, wearing a dark gray suit, his tie half-loosened.

In one hand, he held a document rolled into a tube, tapping it against the palm of his other hand.

“Chijiao.”

Chijiao didn’t look up.

“Chijiao.”

Still no look up.

“Do you know how many reporters are packed into the passageway outside right now?”

The manager tossed the rolled document onto the table.

“How many times have I told you? Don’t go too far. Don’t go too far. And you—the referee raised the flag and you still struck four more times.”

Chijiao’s shoulders stopped moving.

His breathing quieted a little.

“Do you know what the Commercial Federation is going to do about—”

“I know.”

Chijiao’s voice came out from under the helmet. Muffled.

“What do you know?”

The manager pulled his tie completely loose.

“You say you know every time. And every time you step into the ring, it’s the same thing. We’re here to play a match, not to—”

“Not to what.”

Chijiao looked up.

His dark red pupils fixed on the manager.

“Not to kill people.”

The manager stared at him.

“We’re here to make money. You win, you get points, the sponsors are happy, everyone’s happy. You send the other guy to the stretcher, the referee panel has to write a report, the Commercial Federation has to talk to us, the media has to write articles. Do you think I like cleaning up your mess after every match?”

Chijiao said nothing.

The manager sighed.

He picked up the rolled document from the table and rolled it again.

“Alright. Get some rest. Next match, don’t do this.”

He walked to the door.

His hand rested on the doorknob.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to fight. It’s that you need to hold back. Hold back, you understand? If you hold back, everyone has an easier time. If you don’t hold back, no one can cover for you.”

The door closed.

Chijiao sat on the bench.

His battle axe leaned against the wall.

The dark red patterns on the axe blade pulsed faintly, brightening and dimming.

He picked up the helmet from his knees, turned it over, and looked at the inside.

Then he set it back on his knees.

The door opened again.

Very quietly.

Almost no sound.

Nightingale walked in.

White long hair, gold-colored pupils.

A black robe, with a silver medicine pouch hanging from her waist.

She walked over to the bench and stood still.

She didn’t sit down.

“Are you okay?”

Her voice was not loud.

Chijiao didn’t look up.

“I’m fine.”

Nightingale looked at him.

Her gold-colored pupils were motionless.

“Why did you lose your temper like that again?”

Chijiao’s fingers clenched tight on the edge of the helmet for a moment, then relaxed.

“It’s nothing. I just—”

He paused.

“I know you have a prejudice against people from the Gold Emblem Knights.”

Nightingale’s voice remained flat.

“But.”

“There’s no reason.”

Chijiao’s voice came through gritted teeth.

He picked up the helmet from his knees and set it beside the bench.

His dark red pupils looked at Nightingale.

“Everyone has a reason to live. And everyone deserves to live for themselves.”