Delta slid down the barrier and dropped to one knee, barely supporting herself with the cracked blade of her sword. She could not help but cough up a mouthful of blood. She raised her head, her crimson eyes fixed on the man standing in the center of the arena with his fist withdrawn, as if he had only done something utterly trivial. Her gaze was filled with shock, unwillingness, and an even deeper... confusion.
Dead silence.
The Xianzhou Martial Arts Tournament venue, which held tens of thousands of people, was utterly silent at that moment.
Only the faint hum of the energy barrier repairing itself and Delta's suppressed panting rang out with startling clarity in the vast stillness.
In the stands, everyone, whether well-traveled interstellar voyagers or battle-hardened Xianzhou Cloud Knights, seemed to have been struck by a collective silencing spell. They stared, dumbfounded, without making a sound.
At the commentary desk, the two experienced commentators had their mouths wide open, their hands frozen in midair with their notes, unable to utter a single word.
Splat.
Delta fell face-first onto the edge of the stage, hitting the ground hard and kicking up a small puff of dust.
The entire arena was silent.
The spectators had their mouths open for ages and still had not closed them.
The papers in the commentator's hand slipped to the floor, and he did not even notice.
Every gaze was focused on that figure still standing where he was, his armor barely even scratched.
No, wait... bro?
What happened to the promised fragile ranged fighter? Didn't the data say "specializes in firearms, mid-to-long-range combat"?
That glittering golden fist, that tin-can posture of taking a heavy sword slash head-on without a scratch... you call that a marksman? This was a heavily armored warrior wearing a marksman's