My Goal Is Victory

Behind the military personnel came more than twenty members of the Silverwood Spear in silver cloaks. Tianlan spotted those two annoying people in the crowd at once and couldn't help letting out a soft snort.

But they did not notice Fang Heng's group. The two walked in the middle of the procession, occasionally talking to each other, and soon disappeared from view.

The next person to enter the hall was a man as imposing as a giant tower.

He wore only a thin linen tunic, exposing his solid bronze muscles. His lips were thick, and he looked stern and unsmiling. Beneath his prominent brow ridge, his dark eyes were as sharp as an eagle's. Two grayish-white stripes were painted across his cheekbones, while another ran vertically over his forehead and one down his chin.

His long black hair was braided behind his back, the thick braids hanging all the way to his hips. Many small copper rings were tied to their ends, jingling as he walked.

The entire hall fell silent with this man's arrival.

"Mazak Cadmus," Tianlan whispered to the others. "He's the master here, the finest blacksmith in the wilds, and the one who established the laws of Traveler's Respite."

The tall man came to a stop in the middle of the hall.

Four dwarves followed behind him, their eight arms working together to carry a stone platform into the hall. Twelve naked giants had been carved beneath the platform with chisels and axes, standing atop the base together and holding up the stone tray above them.

They set the platform heavily in the center of the hall, producing a dull boom.

Only then did Jita quietly tell the others that the Twelve Giants were the leaders of the twelve giant clans defeated by the dwarves. Rothas had sentenced them to endless hard labor beneath the Seat of Saint Forging.

A low murmur of discussion rose through the hall at just the right moment.

But Mazak clapped his hands, and the crowd quieted down once more. "Welcome to my camp, everyone. A special contest will be held here tonight. The final victor will receive one of my treasured gifts—a masterpiece from my younger days."

The goblins extinguished several lamps, and the hall dimmed.

As everyone wondered what was happening, Mazak suddenly raised his hand. Pinched between his fingers was a translucent platinum ring glowing with fiery gold, like red-hot molten iron that had not yet been quenched, casting a bright light through the darkness.

Everyone drew a sharp breath.

No description was necessary. They all understood that it was the Golden Flame Ring.

Amid a sea of envious gazes, Mazak placed the ring on the tray.

He raised his head, the golden reflection mirrored in his dark eyes as his sharp gaze swept over the hall. "Today, under the witness of Oli the Just, we will witness the birth of a champion. I hope every contestant swears in their heart to the Just One that they will win this competition by fair means—otherwise, bear the consequences yourselves."

His voice was not loud, but it carried unquestionable authority. Finally, he said softly, "Then let the competition begin now."

The hall brightened once again.

A gnome representative of the Kaolin Merchant Alliance stepped forward with a copper megaphone in hand and shrieked, "Anyone lingering in the center of the hall, please leave the competition area immediately! Official contestants, enter from this direction! Registration for the preliminary round will be held on the eastern side of the hall. All other contestants, head that way!"

The hall immediately erupted into noisy chaos. The crowd scattered, with some trying to cross the hall to register while others searched for their places.

Fang Heng saw the military personnel disappear behind the flow of people.

Only then did he let out a sigh of relief and wipe away a cold sweat. But to be safe, he still pulled up his hood and lowered the brim to conceal most of his face. Jita watched his movements in confusion from beside him. "Brother Ed, you don't look very well."

"It's a little too cold."

That answer could not have been more stiff. Etila looked up at the brightly burning fireplace nearby.

But Jita did not suspect a thing and nodded earnestly. "The temperature drops very low at night in Egonen Forest, but it should be fine inside the inn."

Tianlan had not heard a word of their conversation. The French girl looked extremely excited as she glanced around at the weaving crowd, then turned back and said eagerly, "Let's go register over there. Did you see? Everyone else has already gone over."

The suggestion made Fang Heng feel as though he were sitting on pins and needles.

Because he no longer wanted to enter the competition.

Making a spectacle of himself under the military's watchful eyes? He wasn't an idiot. The Stargate Special Operations Team, the standing force stationed at the Star Gate, existed specifically for countries to capture and bring back illegal entrants.

But Tianlan clearly did not understand Fang Heng's complicated feelings and blinked at him. "Brother Ed, what are you spacing out for?"

"It's not that..."

Fang Heng was trying to come up with a reasonable excuse.

But Etila suddenly stood and said, "I'll take Ed to register. The rest of you stay here."

"Huh?" Tianlan froze. "Why?"

"Especially you, Fuli," Etila told her. "You're the one I worry about most. Stay here obediently until I return. You're not allowed to go anywhere."

Tianlan stuck out her lips so far that her dissatisfaction was written all over her face, but she did not argue back. She plopped down gloomily, stretched both arms across the table, and lay there like a dead fish.

Etila found her both exasperating and amusing, shaking her head.

Only then did she turn to Fang Heng. "Let's go, Ed."

Fang Heng hesitated. He knew he could not avoid it. Who told him to be so enthusiastic about the prize money earlier? If he suddenly changed his mind now, it would inevitably arouse suspicion. Besides, Luo Yu had seen his video. There was no telling whether he might recognize him at a glance.

Though he vaguely felt that Etila and the others would not do anything to him, there were too many people here. Someone else might notice something.

But inspiration struck him in his panic. He suddenly saw the Paparal sitting on a chair nearby, his belly rising and falling as he slept soundly. A sheathed shortsword hung diagonally from his belt.

So Fang Heng used the excuse of standing up to casually slip the shortsword out.

With his long sleeves concealing him, none of the others noticed his little movement.

He tucked the shortsword into his sleeve with a reverse grip, then followed Etila through the crowd. As he walked, he silently opened the Craftsman menu, imagined the shape of a mask, adjusted its structure through the system, and fitted it over the shortsword.

It was his first time crafting under such circumstances, and he learned just how difficult it was to connect structural points while distracted. Unable to focus at all, he failed several times in quick succession.

Fortunately, the shortsword was exquisitely made. Its original smith had been highly skilled and left behind many redundant structural points, allowing him to finish the work despite his clumsiness.

But when he checked the finished quality, it was basically on the verge of being scrap. Thankfully, it was only a mask. It would have been completely unusable on a precise Flexible Construct.

Just as Fang Heng was about to put on the mask.

Etila suddenly asked, "Ed, do you have a grudge against the people from the Silverwood Spear?"

"Huh?" Fang Heng froze.

"When we encountered those two earlier, you were far more wary than an ordinary person. And when you pulled up your hood afterward, it was because you didn't want to face them, wasn't it?" the elven girl asked gently.

Fang Heng had not expected Etila to be so observant.

But that was completely wrong.

He had no idea how to explain that he had been wary because what happened at the Elven Ruins had left him instinctively distrustful of the Silverwood Spear and Jefflit's people.

And as for what came afterward, it was even more off the mark—

But none of that could be explained, so he could only play along and nod foolishly.

"Don't mind me. I'm not trying to pry into your affairs," Etila said. "I was just afraid that Fuli might not notice this and expose you."

"I didn't overstep, did I?" She turned back and looked at Fang Heng with her emerald-green eyes.

Fang Heng was slightly stunned.

He could not help feeling deeply moved. He had never expected the elven girl to think things through so carefully for him, and guilt filled his heart. He resolved that after leaving this place, he would definitely tell her the truth.

As they talked, the two reached the registration point. Several small goblins passed by in a line with boxes balanced atop their heads. Before Fang Heng could spot any staff members, he heard a conversation nearby.

"Those are military personnel."

"Why are they involved in such a small competition?"

"Who knows? This competition doesn't seem that simple..."

Fang Heng's heart suddenly sank.

He raised his head. The crowd ahead happened to part, revealing the scene behind it—military personnel in black coats had actually set up a cordon there, carefully inspecting every contestant who entered.

The sight nearly made Fang Heng's vision go black. He almost wanted to grab Etila and turn around at once.

Unfortunately, it was too late. The contestant ahead had already stepped past the cordon, and the young soldier responsible for inspections had noticed them. He beckoned for the two of them to come over.

Compared to Etila's calm and natural demeanor, Fang Heng felt as stiff as a mummy at that moment.

Etila seemed to notice Fang Heng's abnormality behind her and softly reminded him, "Don't look too nervous. That will only attract attention. Look around. The people from the Silverwood Spear aren't here."

Fang Heng felt like crying.

He wasn't afraid of the Silverwood Spear's nobodies, all right?

Zhang Tianmou was frowning as he looked at the young man before him. The taller forest elf girl was obviously a native and not within his scope of concern. But the other one had half his face covered by a silver metal mask.

Of course, since Chosen Ones in the New World inevitably made enemies, it was not unusual to see people wearing masks or wrapping themselves tightly in heavy cloaks.

But it was his first time seeing such a flashy mask.

Fang Heng himself felt incredibly guilty. He had only discovered while putting it on that the Paparal's shortsword was forged from Mithril. No wonder it had contained so many redundant structural points.

A Mithril mask—

So it was not hard for him to understand why the soldier in front of him was looking at him as if he were an idiot.

But Zhang Tianmou did not really care about such a trivial matter. He merely waved to his subordinate behind him. "Come inspect him."

The subordinate immediately approached. He looked over the two of them, accepted a box from a small goblin, and took out a piece of Radiant Equipment that Fang Heng had never seen before.

Then he said to Fang Heng, "Put your hand on it."

Fang Heng had no idea what it was for and instinctively hesitated. But he knew he had no choice now, so he obediently placed his hand on it. In that instant, he seemed to see a pale blue stream of light in his vision.

It looked somewhat like the glow of his Dragon Knight System.

The entire process took only a second or two.

After watching for a moment, the subordinate immediately nodded to Zhang Tianmou and whispered in his ear, "He has a system. Level three."

"Just reached level three?"

The subordinate shook his head. "He passed it by quite a bit, but I can't determine the exact level."

Only then did Zhang Tianmou nod. He did not spare the two another glance, merely waving his hand. "Go on through. Someone over there will explain the competition rules to you."

The two passed through the military's cordon. Faintly, they could still hear the subordinate discussing something with his superior behind them. "Captain Zhang, that person is wearing a Mithril mask..."

"I saw it."

"Are newcomers these days all this rich?"

"Who knows? Maybe he's just stupid. And why are you thinking about such irrelevant things? Pay attention."

"Sorry, sir."

Though Fang Heng was speechless, he finally let out a long breath. He tugged at his collar. His entire body was already soaked through with sweat, as if he had been fished out of water.

He was still somewhat puzzled, not knowing what those military personnel were doing there.

Were they not here for him?

Or had the Stargate Special Operations Team taken on some other task as a side job?

Fang Heng could not help asking, "Miss Etila, were there inspections like this before?"

Etila shook her head. "This is the first time. It may be because of the finals."

The finals?

Fang Heng did not believe it. Since when did the military care about these little local competitions? Besides, even if they did care, there was no need to deploy the Stargate Special Operations Team.

As he thought about it, the two arrived at the preliminary round venue. The area was not actually large, merely a cleared-out section on the eastern side of the hall. The little goblins had not even moved away the tables and chairs, leaving them where they were.

A gnome stood atop a table, explaining the competition rules to the others in a shrill voice.

The preliminary round rules were simple. The first stage was a qualification test. Anyone who passed the organizers' assessment qualified. The test itself was not difficult either. Contestants merely had to operate a Clockwork Sprite through a sufficient number of obstacles within the allotted time.

Fang Heng could roughly guess the purpose of the assessment. It was simply to weed out the riffraff from the genuine contestants.

He looked around and found that there were quite a few contestants in the first round, around thirty or forty in total. He had no idea how many would remain after the first assessment.

But even passing the simplest first-round assessment came with a reward of one thousand Liselle, roughly equivalent to a participation prize. It was enough to make one marvel at the wealth of this place's master.

By then, the gnome had finished explaining the rules and called for all contestants to prepare themselves and put on their Flexible Control Gloves.

Fang Heng did as instructed. Etila gave him a push from behind, telling him to step forward. Only then did Fang Heng realize that his control gloves were truly too battered and tattered, with only two Silver Rails on the dial.

To avoid attracting attention, he considered wrapping the dial with a strip of cloth. But Fang Heng had underestimated just how conspicuous his control gloves were.

He had only just finished preparing when he heard a muffled chuckle from beside him. Fang Heng instinctively turned around and saw a tall, thin alchemist with glasses looking at him, barely able to contain his amusement. "Sorry, buddy, I didn't mean to laugh. But your gloves are rather... distinctive."

Judging by the man's clothes, he was also a contestant. Five silver stars rested at his collar, making him a level-five alchemist, far above Fang Heng's level.

Then Fang Heng looked down at his own gloves, which had been dismantled into pieces and even slashed open by a dagger to expose his fingers. Feeling a little embarrassed himself, he scratched his face and forced out an explanation. "Can't help it. I've gotten used to them, so it's hard to switch."

The man grinned. "I get it, I get it. Everyone has their down-and-out days."

He extended a hand to Fang Heng. "I'm Wandering Hu Di. My real name is Hu Di, so just call me Hu Di. My goal is the same as yours. I only need to pass the first round and get the prize money."

Fang Heng froze for a moment, then shook the man's hand.

He raised his head, the silver half-mask revealing a slight smile as he hastily came up with a false name.

"As for me," he said, "my name is Shaya. Shaya Aznable."

"As for my goal, there is only victory."