The special design of the arena's VIP boxes ensured that ordinary spectators seated lower down could not see into the VIP section.
Veronica removed her high heels and sat sideways in Ryan's lap, leaning against his chest. The witch had spent a lot of effort planning and thinking the previous night, leaving her mentally exhausted.
She needed to complete this task as soon as possible to prove she was stronger than Theresa.
Fortunately, she had a warm harbor beside her. In Ryan's arms, she could lower her guard, set down her burdens, and allow herself a small moment of relaxation.
Covering her ears in annoyance, the woman complained, "God, it's so noisy. Next time, if you come to this place, you can come alone. I won't be coming again."
"Learn to endure, learn to remain calm, Veronica. Sometimes, external affairs will not change according to your will alone; you need to coexist with the noise." Ryan gently held the woman in his arms, watching the action in the arena. "Lopes is indeed the son of Mosheon's Lord Hyde. Well done."
"Oh? All I see is him getting beaten," Veronica remarked, uninterested in the gladiatorial combat, allowing Ryan to stroke her stocking-clad legs. "Could you enlighten me, my great knight, a woman who understands nothing?"
"Let me put it this way: a person's stamina is like a well. It has two parameters: the total amount of water and the size of the bucket." Ryan explained softly, "The total amount of water represents a person's stamina limit. However, this does not mean that the well's water can be used continuously until it's exhausted because, in a short period, the amount of water that can be drawn is limited by the bucket's size."
"In other words, stamina faces a small limit in the short term. Any strong person will experience a bottleneck after a series of continuous attacks, needing to draw water from the well again. That's why we knights have a special course in training: how to find our own rhythm and avoid the adverse effects of a stamina bottleneck. Clearly, Lopes has learned this lesson well. He's carefully managing his stamina, waiting for Bennett's stamina to drop." Ryan's eyes were fixed on the field. "That opportunity is coming soon. Watch, in less than ten seconds, Lopes will counterattack."
Sure enough, as Ryan predicted, Bennett's continuous slashing quickly drained his stamina. Although Lopes's wooden shield was battered, the wandering knight still retained some strength. Sensing the weakening of Bennett's strikes, Lopes knew his chance had come. The wandering knight roared and used all his strength to smash his shield against the lower part of Bennett's wooden sword and his arm's weak point.
The decrease in stamina and the soreness in his arm caused the man known as "The Butcher" to lose control. Under the shield's heavy blow, the aching hand could no longer hold the wooden sword, forcing Bennett to halt his assault.
This was Lopes's chance.
The wandering knight threw his shield, hitting Bennett's helmet. The tall gladiator staggered back a few steps. Lopes switched to a two-handed grip on his halberd and began a whirlwind of attacks.
The wooden halberd swept across, striking the seam between Bennett's shoulder armor and helmet. The sturdy wooden weapon was enough to cause significant harm. When Bennett's neck was injured, he immediately launched a counterattack against Lopes.
Strong arms gripped the wooden sword and chopped downward from above. Lopes quickly raised his halberd to block. The halberd bent slightly under the force of the wooden sword.
"Watch this!" Lopes shouted, lifting the halberd with both hands. The wandering knight skillfully used the halberd's elasticity and the wooden sword's pressure to deflect the attack. The wooden sword was bounced away by the halberd.
"Halberd combo!" Ryan muttered as he watched Lopes's actions.
Lopes's first vertical strike with the halberd hit Bennett's head. Even through the helmet, the audience could tell from Bennett's pained cries and retreating figure that he was weakened.
The second vertical strike hit Bennett's head again. Under the wandering knight's relentless assault, everyone could see red liquid flowing from within the helmet, unmistakably blood.
The duel ended with a sweeping strike following the second vertical hit. Bennett fell heavily, and the fight was over. Lopes stood up as medics entered the field to treat both fighters.
"The duel is over! Today's winner is Lopes, the wandering knight from the Kingdom of Nord! Let's give him a round of applause!" announced arena official Geliza Stormhammer, laughing as he presented Lopes with a trophy and declared his victory.
"Thank you!" Lopes accepted the trophy and his prize money amidst the applause. The confident wandering knight had also bet on himself, earning a considerable sum. After receiving the trophy, he excitedly waved at Ryan, who waved back in acknowledgment.
"Can you sense Belter's presence?" Veronica lifted her head from Ryan's chest. "I don't feel anything."
"Neither do I," Ryan shook his head, though he wasn't disappointed. "Belter is much stronger. These small fry can't draw him out. Be patient. If Belter is hiding in the arena, watching Lopes win repeatedly, he won't remain indifferent."
"It seems that's our best option for now," Veronica admitted, knowing she had been somewhat hasty.
For the next three days, Ryan and Veronica continued to observe the arena. However, they were disappointed by what they found. In those three days, Lopes's exceptional halberd skills earned him the title of "Halberd Master" and several challengers. But to Ryan's dismay, he found no trace of Belter.
This could only mean one thing: Belter was not in the arena.
Three days later, at nightfall, 53 Amber Avenue.
In the dining room on the first floor, silver cutlery and white candles illuminated the bright room. Ryan hosted a dinner at his new home, inviting Alfred and Lopes. At this point, Ryan had told Lopes and Alfred about his mission, hoping they could help.
Lopes's young face was full of excitement. He was thrilled to have the opportunity to be useful. Being informed of Ryan's specific mission made the young wandering knight feel his efforts over the past three days were not in vain. "So, Mr. Ryan, your goal is to find the fallen hunter Belter! I'm willing to help you!"
"Thank you for your help." Ryan placed the buttered bread, meticulously prepared honey-roasted chicken wings, and fruit salad on the table covered with a white tablecloth. Veronica and Catherine were cooking lamb chops.
The Garland witch was different from a regular sorceress; she could cook. Though not an expert, she could manage to make a meal for herself. The Garland apprentices often had to cook and do chores for their mentors. Since Speaker Margarita didn't need Veronica to do such tasks, poor little Catherine had to be proficient in all household chores, while Veronica only needed to get by.
Today, with Ryan's friends coming over, the witch naturally had to show her hospitality by cooking.
Once everyone was seated, Alfred said a prayer, and they began to feast. Lopes was initially a bit reserved, but under Ryan and Veronica's warm hospitality, he gradually relaxed. "Thank you, Mr. Ryan. This is the best dinner I've ever had."
"You're welcome." Ryan thought for a moment and then asked, "Any findings over the past few days? Any particularly strong gladiators, or any sense of a sinister presence?"
"No," Lopes replied, expertly cutting his steak with a knife and fork. "The three strongest gladiators in the arena are Bennett, Bough, and me. Bough is a sturdy farm owner and somewhat of a noble. He's good with a spear but is quite humble. He only fights a few matches each month to earn some extra money."
"Hmm," Ryan stroked his chin, knowing Belter was unlikely to be in the arena anymore.
Marienburg adhered to imperial laws, and under such order, the arena couldn't possibly host formidable beings. This wasn't the chaotic southern realms or the dark elven territories where even lords would participate in matches. In Marienburg, even elite humans easily found employment as merchants eagerly hired them as guards. Given these conditions, the arena only had small fry, unable to cause much of a stir.
The only possibility was that two strong individuals might duel in the arena due to personal grudges, but such events were rare.
Ryan exchanged a glance with Veronica. The witch had judged that the arena was the least likely of the three places. After Lopes's three-day investigation, they could almost rule out the arena.
"Thanks for your hard work. Should we investigate the underground tunnels next or the Society of Aesthetics?" After a hearty meal and seeing off Lopes and Alfred, Ryan and Veronica sat in the living room on the first floor, continuing their discussion under the light of a grand chandelier and magical floor lamps.
"Our division of labor with Deputy President Jacob is for him to lead the witch hunters to investigate the tunnels. Our task is to investigate the arena and the Society of Aesthetics. Now that the arena is done, we should start investigating the Society of Aesthetics," Ryan analyzed.
"The Society of Aesthetics isn't easy to deal with, Ryan. You know, at least two senators in Marienburg's Upper Council are members of the Society of Aesthetics, especially that Count Edmund Huron. He is a fervent suitor of Aneda and has publicly declared that if Aneda accepts his proposal, she will become the Countess." Veronica gently tucked her dark brown curls behind her ear. As a legendary fire and light witch, she wasn't afraid of the cold.
"So we need evidence to prove the Society of
Aesthetics is a Chaos cult. Otherwise, we can't search their headquarters. Keep in mind, that place is in the Shield Coin district. Any misstep, and we'll become unwelcome in Marienburg. Lord Schultz supports me, but the Upper Council isn't composed of only him." Ryan knew they had to be cautious with every step, especially when dealing with the Society of Aesthetics, which had tightly woven itself into Marienburg's upper echelons. A single misstep could lose him the only chance to eradicate this Chaos cult.
"I wonder how Deputy President Jacob is doing," Ryan mused, holding Veronica in his arms and breathing in the lily fragrance from her hair. "Tomorrow, let's visit the Shield Coin district and check out the Society of Aesthetics headquarters. And maybe... buy you some new clothes?"
"You're paying?" Veronica smiled sweetly, lying on Ryan's chest.
"Of course, I'm paying." Ryan nodded as if it were a matter of course. "As a gentleman, it's my duty."
"Then I'll have to give you this opportunity," she laughed, her smile radiant. "But don't come up short, my great knight!"
"Don't underestimate your partner!"
Marienburg, Underground Tunnels
Marienburg was like a giant tree, with the urban areas on the surface being the branches, trunk, and leaves.
The underground tunnels were the tree's roots.
Deputy President of the Witch Hunters' Guild, Jacob, led three young witch hunters to the entrance of the underground tunnels.
Jacob had a large cigar in his mouth, wearing a long, thick coat. Under his tan trench coat was expertly crafted scale armor, heavy leather boots, a wide-brimmed hat, a black mask, and deerskin gloves covering his forearms, leaving only his fierce eyes and mouth visible.
Despite only his eyes being visible, Jacob's intimidating presence was undiminished. Besides the scar near his eye, every tunnel guard who saw Jacob's eyes felt a chill down their spine.
Those were eyes that doubted everything, eyes that presumed everyone was guilty, eyes that scanned constantly like a predator's, searching for any sign of corruption.
Jacob was a veteran witch hunter, dedicated to eradicating corruption and evil for decades. His methods were so ruthless that even within the witch hunters, his actions were infamous. Once, upon discovering a cult base, he buried an entire village of dozens. Another time, based on mere suspicion, he burned an entire street to ashes.
When the guild deemed Jacob incapable of distinguishing between a friendly handshake and an assassination attempt, this aged master hunter was semi-retired, mostly teaching young hunters at the guild headquarters.
Jacob's back bore a large axe and a longsword, with a short blunderbuss at his waist. No one knew if he had other weapons hidden on him.
"Deputy President Jacob, I've found Belter's trail!" a young witch hunter whispered.
"Excellent," Jacob said, deeply inhaling his cigar and exhaling a perfect smoke ring.
"The hunt begins."
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