While waiting, Velin stared at the crystal ball in his hand, curious about what Lester might have left behind for him.
"Could this guy have hidden some treasure somewhere, with an agreement that if he didn't come back within a hundred years, it would belong to me?" Velin stroked his chin, unable to stop himself from fantasizing.
At the center of the Twenty-fifth Army's main camp, Kyle stood atop the arena. With his left hand behind his back, he sent a High-Gold commander flying off the platform in a single move. Shaking the Knight Sword in his right hand, he said calmly, "Next."
Below the arena, everyone exchanged looks, waiting for the next brave person to step forward.
Although their commander had suppressed his strength to High-Gold, most of them still felt ashamed of how far beneath him they were.
"I'll do it."
As the voice rang out, everyone turned to look behind them and saw a casually dressed young man slowly making his way toward the arena.
After a few strides, the young man leaped onto the arena and stopped a hundred meters from Kyle. He bowed and said, "I have no doubts about your strength, but chances to fight someone as powerful as you are rare. I hope you won't go easy on me."
Kyle looked at the unrestrained young man before him and nodded. "Very well."
Hearing Kyle's reply, the young man slowly raised his head and placed his right hand on the hilt of his Knight Sword, his five fingers tightening.
The next instant, he drew his sword sharply. The moment the blade left its sheath, a violent gale swept out from around him.
With a flick of his wrist, a cyan Battle Qi blade burst from the sword's edge, tearing through the air as it