Sakre sprinted towards the stands, embracing Lancaster tightly. "Your Majesty, you must believe me! I truly haven't courted trouble! It's that scoundrel Manning who's intent on ruining me."
"Oh?" Lancaster glanced at him. "I was unaware that there existed such a method of entrapment!"
"Your Majesty!" Sakre's face twisted in despair, losing any semblance of regal composure. He longed to drag Manning back for a proper explanation.
Had he known, he would have reduced that rascal to his original state. Sakre ground his teeth in frustration.
"Move aside, move aside!" Lancaster mercilessly shoved Sakre's doughy face aside. "Don't block my way!"
"Your Majesty!" Sakre trailed behind, looking like a forsaken puppy, his ears drooping sadly.
If Manning were here, he would surely mock him relentlessly.
"Your Majesty, wait for me! Where are you going? I truly haven't done anything to Manning! Your Majesty!"
Sakre mentally tortured Manning with countless imaginative punishments, yet felt unsatisfied, resolving to treat him properly the next time they met.
Manning, still on his way home, shivered involuntarily.
Ah, it is far better to offend a thousand gentlemen than to provoke a single villain.
Nevertheless, thoughts of revenge were a concern for the future; the immediate issue was far more pressing.
"Your Majesty~~~~" Sakre reached out, tightly wrapping his arms around Lancaster from behind.
"It hurts, it hurts, it really hurts! Your Majesty~~ what is it on you?"
Lancaster brushed off his hands as if discarding something filthy. "This is a new spell I created just for you: Wind-Piercing Armor. Consider this a warning to keep your hands to yourself in the future! Hmph!"
He held his head high and marched towards the arena.
Sakre glanced at his swollen hands. "Oh, I really pity you all!"
Yet he remained undeterred and followed closely.
"Just tell me, what are you planning to do?"
"You're so annoying! My match is next, don't you know?"
Sakre genuinely didn't know. He blinked in surprise. "Who against?"
"Against the beautiful sister!"
"Ah, no! Let me take your place, Your Majesty! Would that be alright?" Sakre clung on like a piece of chewing gum.
"Step aside, or else…" Lancaster shot him a threatening glare.
"Alright!" Sakre reluctantly withdrew his hands. "I'll cheer for you!"
Lancaster ascended the combat platform, and the audience erupted into enthusiastic applause and cheers. "Lancaster! Lancaster! Lancaster! We love you~~~~"
If one were to insist on a difference, it was that this time the voices rang out several times louder than before, with one voice standing out above the rest, drawing the attention of everyone around.
"That fool!" Lancaster muttered lightly.
A mature and beautiful woman with black hair stepped onto the combat platform, flashing a radiant smile at Lancaster.
Lancaster nodded and smiled in return.
The referee below watched with tears of gratitude, relieved that there would finally be a more normal match.
He rushed up to the combat platform in three steps, taking the hands of both Lancaster and the woman.
"I declare, the match begins!"
The two stood on the platform for a while, unmoving.
Suddenly, the woman stepped forward and knelt on one knee.
"Forgive me, but I still cannot bring myself to strike you. As a knight, I absolutely cannot extend a weapon to my master. I forfeit this match!"
She stood and waved at Lancaster. "Well then, I must go to the place you mentioned. Don't forget me; I am Judy, at your service!"
Lancaster blew her a kiss, saying, "Goodbye, darling!"
With a swift turn, she left the arena without a trace of longing.
"Ah?" Everyone was stunned; what kind of performance was this?
Lancaster was equally bewildered, having had no opportunity to intervene as Judy had spoken and departed on her own.
He couldn't even process what had just happened.
"That old woman has gone too far! How dare she flirt with our queen!" Sakre stormed down from the stands, fuming with rage.
"Surely, they won't just send us home like this?" The audience buzzed with discussions, and the situation seemed ready to spiral out of control.
The poor referee's eyes lit up upon seeing Sakre.
"Dear spectators, given the favorable circumstances, I hereby announce that the finals will be held early, commencing now!"
"Ah? Where?" The two left on the platform stared at each other, bewildered.
"Your Majesty, what just happened?" Sakre asked.
"I don't know either," Lancaster shrugged. "But it seems I can fight you once more."
"What? I don't want to!" Sakre shrieked dramatically.
"Do you dare say you don't want to?"
"I just don't want to! It's going to hurt! You have no idea how to consider my feelings!" Sakre shook Lancaster's arm vigorously.
"You!" Lancaster frowned, wondering what an outsider would think if they overheard this exchange.
"You have no choice in the matter; now fight seriously."
"I don't want to! We've fought before. I already lost to little Lanlan once; losing again would be too humiliating! Please let me off!"
"You're talking about that time? How much strength did you use? Two points, three points, or five?" Lancaster scoffed.
"I gave it my all!"
"Who would believe your nonsense? Sakre, are you fighting or not? If you don't, keep a thousand meters away from me, and don't let me see you again."
"Ah, Your Majesty~~~ you are too cruel! If I must fight, then…" Sakre's eyes darted.
"I warn you, if you use Judy's move on me, we will see!"
"Ah, that's unfair, Your Majesty~~~~ I'll sue you for gender discrimination!"
"Fire Meteor!" Lancaster no longer wished to engage in this banter, summoning a celestial star with unhesitating force to strike Sakre directly.