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Gavin launched himself forward with a powerful kick, his body shooting toward the tightly ordered formation of the Hightower family like a thunderbolt. The enemy immediately responded with an attack, their two long spears stabbing toward him with deadly precision.
Yet, Gavin's figure was like a phantom. He swiftly sidestepped to the left, avoiding the spear aimed at his side. In the next moment, he leaned back, dodging the second spear that came at him head-on.
In the blink of an eye, he had already breached their formation. His sword slashed out like a gust of wind, and a flash of cold light passed. Before a member of the Hightower family could react, Gavin's sword pierced through his heart, sending him crashing to the ground.
Without missing a beat, Gavin lunged toward the enemy holding the spear and flag. In panic, the opponent raised his spear, desperately trying to block the attack.
Gavin's wrist turned swiftly, his sword curved around the spear like a snake, and with a sharp counterstrike, he slit the man's throat. Blood poured from the wound as the enemy collapsed to the ground.
At that moment, another enemy attacked from the side. Gavin quickly sidestepped, his foot lifting to deliver a powerful kick to the man's abdomen, sending him flying several meters away.
Another foe took the opportunity to strike from behind, but Gavin seemed to have eyes on the back of his head. In a swift spin, he swung the hilt of his sword, landing a powerful blow that knocked the man unconscious.
Just then, the Hightower family's allies let out a roar and charged into the fray. But Gavin remained calm. His gaze grew colder, and his sword moved with lightning speed, creating an impenetrable barrier of steel.
He struck with brutal precision, sometimes thrusting fiercely, sometimes launching sharp thrusts, sometimes cleaving down with unrelenting force. Each move carried the weight of destruction.
One enemy attacked fiercely from the left. Gavin swiftly turned, his sword slashing across the man's arm.
Another opponent struck from behind, but Gavin, moving like a shadow, spun around and drove his sword deep into the enemy's chest. Then, Gavin seemed to vanish, his sword flashing like a blur in the air.
Some enemies lost their arms in an instant, falling to the ground with screams, while others were silenced by a single, precise strike to the throat. His movements were as fast as lightning, each strike brutal and deadly.
In the chaos of battle, Gavin moved like a master of death, each strike swift and ruthless, yet filled with a deadly grace.
Dozens of enemies surrounded him, but none could get close. His sword flowed like a dragon through the sea, like a fierce tiger descending the mountain—an embodiment of the pinnacle of swordsmanship, striking fear into all who witnessed it.
When Gavin's sword finally sliced through the last enemy's throat, there was no one left standing before him. Where the Hightower family's formation had once stood firm, now only Gavin remained, standing tall and proud.
His chest heaved as he gasped for breath, sweat dripping down his face and falling onto the blood-soaked ground.
The battlefield grew deathly silent, with only Gavin's heavy breathing and the occasional fluttering of flags in the wind breaking the stillness. The ground was scattered with blood and the bodies of the fallen, a grim reminder of the brutal battle that had just taken place.
Gavin slowly stood up, the sword in his hand hanging by his side, and blood dripped from the tip of the sword with each breath.
He glanced around at the other opponents eyeing him warily, his face showing no trace of pity or fear. He extended his hand and curled his fingers at them, a gesture full of provocation and disdain.
The moment Gavin made this taunting move, the entire stands and the crowd watching erupted like a barrel of gunpowder set ablaze, filling the air with deafening, earth-shaking cheers.
The people, as if driven by an invisible force, began whispering furiously to one another, with gasps of astonishment, cheers, and questions crashing together like surging waves.
At that moment, Gavin felt a sense of exhilaration like never before. Despite the exhaustion from the battle, it had only made him feel stronger.
The mastery of swordsmanship granted by the panel seemed to have truly clicked into place, his movements now seamless and precise. Seeing that no one dared respond to his provocation, he smiled faintly and, without hesitation, charged forward.
At first, some attempted to retaliate, but as each one was swiftly knocked down, an absurd scene unfolded on the battlefield. Wherever Gavin went, enemies either fled in panic or surrendered without a fight. Within moments, Gavin was the only one left standing.
In just a few short days, Edmund had hosted three banquets, each with Gavin as the guest of honor.
He showed no signs of slowing down, having already instructed his servants to begin preparing for a fourth banquet.
In contrast to the overjoyed Edmund, Gavin had grown tired of the endless feast. After a few polite toasts, he feigned drunkenness and hastily excused himself. After all, his mind was no longer on the banquet.
Escaping the celebration, Gavin followed Tommen eagerly, his heart racing as he prepared to claim the rewards that awaited him.
"My lord, currently we can only offer you 110,000 gold dragons in cash. As for the remaining 40,000 gold dragons, please allow us 10 days to raise the funds. The guild does not have enough gold dragons on hand at the moment. If you are concerned, we can offer some goods of equivalent value as collateral."
"Additionally, we will pay you an extra 2,000 gold dragons as compensation to make up for our mistake." The speaker lowered his head, his voice trembling slightly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his hands nervously twisting together.
His eyes were filled with anxiety and unease as he cautiously watched the expression of the lord in front of him.
Hearing this, Gavin couldn't help but feel somewhat helpless, his brow furrowing deeply. Seeing the other party's sincere attitude, which did not suggest any intention to renege on the agreement, he stood there, his gaze thoughtful, as he began to consider the situation.
Seeing that Gavin did not respond, the manager became even more anxious, his body trembling slightly, fearing that he had angered the ruthless figure in front of him.
He had witnessed the bloody scene from the earlier competition, and the vivid memory still filled him with deep fear. He quickly added, "My lord, our guild has been running the tournament betting business in Westeros for over two hundred years. We even hold shares in the Iron Bank, so you can rest assured about our credibility. We have a wide range of business dealings, so if you ever need anything in the future, we can find it for you." His voice trembled noticeably, and his eyes were full of pleading.
Upon hearing this, Gavin suddenly recalled certain things and said, "It's not that I can't wait for 10 days, but there are some materials I need to purchase, on the condition that you can help me gather them."
With that, he gestured for the man to bring paper and a pen, and began listing all the materials and herbs needed for the blood mage puppet.
The manager looked at the long list of materials and herbs, and silently breathed a sigh of relief. He hurriedly said, "My lord, the guild can gather everything you need right away. However, I am unsure of the quantity you require. Also, these items are quite expensive, roughly 1,200 gold dragons. But if you wish, I can take responsibility and offer you a package for 1,000 gold dragons, as a token of our appreciation for your understanding."
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[Chapter End's]
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