Courtly Tournament (I)

Xia Lun turned toward the source of the voice and saw a middle-aged man standing ramrod straight.

The man wore a plain black coat without any ornaments. His gray-white stubble stood stiffly on his chin, giving him a sharp, capable look. His unadorned black coat was spotless and free of even a single wrinkle, making him seem distinctly out of place amid the crowd's colorful formal attire.

Xia Lun's eyes narrowed slightly. As if by reflex, a scene flashed through his mind: the conversation he had had with the "Commodore" when he obtained Nonhuman Toughness.

The Commodore in the memories of Nonhuman Toughness had been an abstract humanoid figure formed from black ink. Now, within Xia Lun's mind, that upright abstract figure gradually overlapped with the man before him—their bearing, build, and expression were all exactly the same!

This middle-aged man was Geliide's mortal enemy, the Commodore!

In an instant, the pain of the torture from those memories surged up like bitter acid rising from his stomach, and a flicker of killing intent passed through Xia Lun's heart.

"Although you're taking part in the exhibition match before the official competition, you'd better keep your head in the game," the Commodore said in a low voice, his tone as cold and detached as Xia Lun remembered. "I have no desire to see my apprentice fail—especially not to one of Bird's people."

As he spoke, he raised his eyes toward the resplendent viewing platform above the distant crowd.

Xia Lun took a deep breath, dispelling his stray thoughts and ill-timed murderous intent. He followed the man's gaze.

There were fewer people on the viewing platform, but their clothing was elaborate and exquisite. They all seemed to be nobles. At the center of the group stood a slightly plump, bald old man, smiling as he occasionally nodded at the flattery offered by those around him.

For some reason, Xia Lun found the man extremely familiar. After thinking for a moment, he unconsciously frowned.

This plump old man looked remarkably like Chairman Bird of Jade Pharmaceuticals in reality.

Wait, the Commodore had mentioned that name just now. This man was also called Bird?!

Was it merely a coincidence?

Xia Lun frowned faintly as he continued observing.

At the edge of the crowd on the viewing platform stood a young, beautiful red-haired girl. She wore a long, fitted dress, with a long, fair neck and a high nose bridge. Her chestnut eyes were as clear as amber. At the moment, she was idly playing with a plump green apple in her hand, yet made no move to eat it.

Xia Lun had noticed her not because of her beauty, but because she looked far too much like the woman who had visited him in reality six days ago.

"Is she Bird's daughter?" he asked after thinking for a moment.

The Commodore raised an eyebrow slightly. "Focus on the match. Stop looking at her. Someone of her birth is beyond your reach. As for your question, yes. She is Bird's only daughter, Geliide."

Geliide?!

Xia Lun froze for a moment. Then, a storm of shock surged through his heart.

Now he knew why the red-haired woman who had visited him a few days ago had looked so familiar—she was a younger version of Geliide, without the scar on her face!

Why did people in the script look identical to people in reality?

Why had he encountered Geliide in the script just as he had encountered her in reality?

Shock, unease, and doubt washed over him like a tide, then became a distant ringing in his ears.

Although he had always known that Investigator was not merely a game, at that moment, he felt as though some hidden, fragile boundary of safety had silently shattered...

Even with Xia Lun's mental fortitude, he felt a measure of confusion at that moment.

Reality was bleeding into the game, apparently...

He forced a lame joke in his mind, easing the mingled shock and horror in his heart slightly.

"Stop acting like a coward and pull yourself together," the Commodore said coldly. "The match is about to begin—I'll be heading back. Remember, watch out for the referee. He has always wanted to attach himself to Bird and climb higher through him. He may very well make rulings unfavorable to you, so don't give him the chance."

Xia Lun slowly exhaled, drawing his attention back to the present before nodding.

"Let us praise the protector of the Borland Kingdom, the chosen of the Undying Sacred Flame, the conqueror of the southern barbarians, our great king..."

Accompanied by a melodious tune, a referee clad in a sea-blue fencing vest slowly walked to the center of the venue. He held a speech script in his right hand and a vertical rod in his left, with something resembling a loudspeaker attached to its end.

As he walked, the referee recited a lengthy opening speech overflowing with flattery, praise, and gratitude.

He first praised the king, then extolled the council. Next, he complimented every notable person present one by one, praised the "martially spirited citizens" in attendance, and finally turned to the rules of the tournament itself.

"Courtly Tournament is our great and glorious tradition, and I am sure you are all already familiar with its rules." The referee raised a hand as he spoke. "But please indulge my rambling. By tradition, I must still explain those rules to everyone."

"Before the official competition, we shall first hold an apprentice exhibition match, intended to encourage young people aspiring to swordsmanship. Its rules are no different from those of the official competition—the first to score eight points wins."

"In the match, contestants will use fully sharpened iron swords, fitted only with rubber safety caps to ensure basic safety. During a sword fight, striking a vital area earns three points, while striking a non-vital area earns one point. Afterblows are also permitted."

—An afterblow referred to a counterattack delivered shortly after one side had been struck. This attack would likewise count as a valid strike. The rule was meant to simulate real combat, where a wounded fighter could still retain the ability to attack for a short time.

"Now, please allow me to hand the stage over to our apprentice contestants." The referee's tone suddenly became impassioned, as though he intended to stir up the audience. As the words left his mouth, the previously gentle music immediately swelled into something stirring.

The heartbeat-like drumbeats suddenly accelerated.

"Our first contestant is a young man of noble birth. At only eighteen, he has already distinguished himself on the battlefield. When we entered a trade dispute with the Moen people, he bravely stepped forward and defeated countless formidable foes..."

As the referee's words rang out, the previously drowsy crowd instantly erupted. Their cheers crashed out like a tsunami, immediately drowning out both the referee's voice and the music, filling the entire hall like dense gas.

For a moment, the entire hall seemed to tremble.

Xia Lun looked up at the arena and saw a lean, capable man draped in a black satin cloak patterned with stars. Like the star of a sporting event, he waved his muscular forearm toward the crowd in greeting.

The next moment, he strode to the edge of the arena, snatched a shortsword from an attendant's hand, and leapt into the field in a few broad strides. Then he shot Xia Lun a provocative sidelong glance.

After a while, the cheers gradually faded. The referee continued in an exaggerated tone, "Although our other contestant has not participated in our great and glorious wars, there is no doubt that he is also skilled with a sword. His name is Xia Lun."

Hearing the referee's words, Xia Lun's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly.

Why was the referee announcing his name? Wasn't he supposed to be playing a black first mate right now?