Paparal Would Rather Die Than Submit

Above the hall, torchlight flickered softly against the gray stone walls, stretching shadows into ever-changing shapes.

A wisp of smoke rose from the unburned pine resin, gathering beneath the hall's vaulted ceiling. Amid the swirling haze, the dragon horns appeared ever more mysterious and savage, as though they still lived on in those ancient legends and tales.

The main tournament arena was packed three layers deep with spectators. A low buzz of discussion filled the air, punctuated now and then by cries of astonishment that drowned out every other sound.

Only Zhang Tianmou seemed utterly out of place amid it all.

He kept his brows lowered and his head bowed, carefully smoothing his cuffs with his fingertips, oblivious to everything around him. Only after a while did he look up and sweep his sharp gaze vigilantly across the surroundings.

Before long, he saw his deputy approaching with a tall man who stood as imposing as a giant tower. In truth, Zhang Tianmou could have identified the inn's owner just from his footsteps.

The other man saw him as well and gave him a slight nod.

Zhang Tianmou did not even seem inclined to return the gesture.

"Did you find the person you were looking for?" Mazak finally asked.

He spoke steadily, his voice deep and heavy.

Zhang Tianmou shook his head lightly. "No, only a few tourists. He probably wouldn't show up in Elpaxin anyway. We were simply preparing for the worst—you can consider it leave granted by my superiors, but it was completely unnecessary."

Only after lowering his hand did he add, "In any case, thank you for your help."

"Just a small favor," Mazak replied. "What about the other guests at the inn?"

"We'll find another solution."

"That's good."

Zhang Tianmou looked up at his old friend. He was not short himself, yet he still had to tilt his head back to see the top of Mazak's head. Men from Aesia were all so tall and powerfully built. It was said that their ancestors had come from the wilderness of Istania, with the blood of the Dark Dragon flowing through their veins.

Yet they were also the dragons' mortal enemies, descendants of Dragon Slayers.

"I heard you intend to transfer this inn to the Silverwood Spear?" he suddenly asked, changing the subject.

Mazak did not avoid the question. He nodded. "What do you think?"

Zhang Tianmou shook his head. "I'm a soldier. You know we have discipline."

"Discipline meaning you don't interfere in matters between the native inhabitants?"

"More or less. As long as things are legal, our principle is not to interfere in internal or external affairs. The same goes for the Major Guilds."

"What if it's a guild from another country?"

Zhang Tianmou sneered. "They can come and try."

Mazak gave him a curious look. "You know Corin-Ishurian has an army too, but they aren't like this."

Zhang Tianmou raised an eyebrow. "Naturally, we are different from them."

"Very proud," Mazak replied slowly. "But what I need now is merely a friend's advice."

That made Zhang Tianmou pause. "What's wrong?"

Mazak looked toward the inn's vaulted ceiling, where the enormous dragon horn hung perfectly still. After a moment of silence, he said, "I'm leaving this place."

"Leaving?" Zhang Tianmou was somewhat surprised. "What's wrong? Are you returning to Istania?"

Mazak shook his head. "There are things I must do, just as you bear your sacred responsibilities, Zhang."

Zhang Tianmou suddenly understood. "Is that why you brought out the Golden Flame Ring?"

Mazak shifted his gaze to the stone platform nearby. The blazing golden ring rested upon a tray, guarded by several sturdy dwarves surrounding the treasure.

"Though the Golden Flame Ring was merely one of my proud works from my younger days, I've always kept it as a memento. Like a daughter to her father. But one day, she too must leave the shelter of my wings and meet the one she favors."

"You don't sound like you're simply leaving. It sounds more like you're arranging your affairs."

"That isn't too far from the truth—"

Zhang Tianmou looked at him.

Mazak paused before continuing. "Where I'm going is very dangerous. Before then, I must settle everything."

As he said this, Zhang Tianmou saw not the slightest ripple in his dark eyes. It was as if he were merely saying, "A new coffeehouse opened on the corner. I'm going to have a cup." Something that simple—except there was no implication that he would be back soon.

His meaning was clear. Once he left, he might never return.

Zhang Tianmou suddenly said, "We've known each other for five years now, haven't we?"

"About that long. I still remember your former commander. We didn't get along very well."

"He was my old superior. He retired last year. Speaking badly of him here won't make me happy."

Mazak smiled faintly.

Zhang Tianmou grew unusually serious. "Then let me give you some advice. You need to understand that we stand behind every citizen, not merely the Major Guilds."

"That doesn't sound very different."

"No, of course it is different."

"Can't you make it clearer?"

"That's discipline."

Mazak thought for a moment, then nodded. "I understand."

A brief silence fell between them once more.

Suddenly, a thunderous wave of cries erupted from the eastern side of the hall. Most of the people in the hall were drawn to it and turned curiously to look. Zhang Tianmou's train of thought was interrupted as well, and he raised his head toward that direction.

"What happened?" he asked his deputy with his eyes.

But Mazak had already looked that way and started walking toward it.

His deputy answered uncertainly, "That seems to be the preliminary arena, Captain. Something probably happened?" Zhang Tianmou shook his head, glanced at the tall man's retreating back, and beckoned to his deputy. "Come on, let's take a look."

With that, he followed after him.

"Huh? Captain, wait for me!"

The first round of the main tournament was nearing its end.

Of the four contestants, they came respectively from the Elpaxin Artificer Guild, the Taboris Oak Knights, and the Silverwood Spear. The Elpaxin Artificer Guild's contestant was a young man in his twenties, a level fourteen Combat Artificer.

His opponent was Wu Di from the Silverwood Spear. Though Wu Di's level was somewhat lower, the battle was completely one-sided in his favor.

Before long, the young man's Walker Type III was knocked flying by Wu Di's Shield Bearer Type II, damaging its structure. Though its health had not yet reached zero, the young man generously conceded defeat.

After shaking hands with Wu Di, he stepped down from the arena.

Seeing this, Tianlan lay across the table and gave a disdainful snort.

She had an extremely poor impression of the two culprits who had bumped into Jita without apologizing. Wu Di might not have been the main offender, but his attitude had not been much better.

She was not the only one. Luo Yu, who was watching beside her, could not help frowning as well—though his reason was different. The Taboris Oak Knights contestant was about to lose.

Her opponent happened to be the youth who had bumped into Jita earlier—the main culprit, according to Tianlan.

Honestly, they had not expected the two "genius youths" sent out by the Silverwood Spear to be precisely the two people they had clashed with before. Worse still, those two were swaggering around in the arena, making the French girl grind her teeth in anger.

Luo Yu looked at Jita.

But Jita was not interested in the match at all. She lowered her long lashes and held a wooden cup full of milk in both hands, taking tiny sips. Only when she noticed his gaze did she curiously raise her head, blink, and look at Luo Yu in confusion.

A trace of white milk remained on her little lips, making her look utterly adorable.

"Hong Ye is going to lose."

"She never expected to win in the first place," Jita said softly while holding her cup. "Those two are the two genius rookie Combat Artificers the Silverwood Spear's Seventh Regiment has long been rumored to possess. The difference between them is simply too great."

Luo Yu nodded. "That's true. They're very strong."

Tianlan was instantly annoyed by those words. She shot the two of them a sidelong glare. "Hey, what are you talking about? What's so strong about those two?"

Jita jumped in fright and hurriedly signaled Luo Yu with her eyes.

But he did not notice at all. He earnestly chose his words. "Their reactions, control, and tactical judgment are all first-rate. More importantly, their Flexible Constructs lack the stiffness commonly seen in artificers below Tier 2. That is very rare."

Tianlan sneered. "Then how do they compare to professional artificers?"

Luo Yu was startled. "Of course they can't compare. Even non-professional Combat Artificers above Tier 3 would definitely be too much for them. But that isn't a matter of skill. It's a matter of level."

"Then why are you bragging about them here? I think Brother Ed could easily defeat those two."

Jita hurriedly tugged at Luo Yu's sleeve.

But Luo Yu was still considering his assessment. Frowning, he shook his head. "—I think that would be difficult. Their military Magic Furnaces are excellent. They can even use complex constructs like the Shield Bearer Type II above their level. As for Mr. Ed, I don't know how skilled he is, but judging from his equipment alone, the gap is far too great."

"What kind of hero relies on equipment?"

"Equipment is part of one's strength," Luo Yu said earnestly. "Besides, a Magic Furnace alone would not be enough to operate such complicated constructs. In addition to computational ability, their own skill must be very high."

The moment Jita heard that, she knew things were over.

She shrank back into her chair, adorably covering her head as though she had nothing to do with any of this.

Sure enough, Tianlan flew into a rage at Luo Yu's words. She slammed the table and rose to her feet. "After saying all that, you're just boosting others while putting us down! I never thought you were this kind of person!"

The boy froze. "How did you get that from what I said? I'm just being objective!"

"What objective? Those two bad guys bumped into Jita and didn't even apologize. They don't even have basic manners. How could they possibly become powerful Chosen? If professional Combat Artificers are all like that, then I'd rather Brother Ed be a non-professional Combat Artificer!"

"Fine," Luo Yu was about to reply, but the French girl angrily cut him off again. "Luo, don't tell me you want to join that Silverwood Spear or something, so you're speaking up for these outsiders?"

Luo Yu was dumbfounded. What did that even have to do with what they had been discussing? How had it suddenly become about whether Combat Artificers were professional or not? And what did being powerful have to do with manners?

He hurriedly defended himself. "What are you talking about? I'm a member of the Taboris Oak Knights. How could I possibly join the Silverwood Spear?"

"Oh—" Tianlan suddenly understood. "So that's what you mean. You and the Silverwood Spear both belong to that Rainbow Alliance, right? Birds of a feather flock together after all."

Luo Yu was speechless.

He could not help turning to Jita. "Jita, say something. This damned foreign woman has stopped being reasonable—Tata, what are you doing?"

Jita pulled her hood over her head and covered her ears with both hands, pretending to be an ostrich.

After all, she had long grown used to arguments like this.

As the two continued escalating their quarrel, they finally woke the third person there.

The Paparal crossbowman suddenly smacked his lips, sniffed, and mumbled, "What's that smell? It smells so good." Only then did he groggily open his bean-sized black eyes. He sprawled in his chair with his little belly sticking out, staring curiously at the ceiling.

At the same time, he turned his chubby little head and asked curiously, "Have I been resurrected? What kind of temple is this? Did I start worshipping some Kitchen God or Food God? Why does it smell so good?"

"Ah, I understand. This is the temple of the God of Harvest."

"Aethelria doesn't have that god." Tata's cautious voice emerged from beneath her hood.

Only then did Tianlan notice that he was awake. She cried out, leaped up from her seat, forgot all about arguing with Luo Yu, rushed over, grabbed the Paparal by the shoulders, and asked, "You're awake? You're awake, Parker?"

Parker was nearly shaken apart. He hurriedly tried to stop her with his little short hands. "I'm awake, I'm awake! Tianlan, stop it already! I'm fully awake!"

Only then did Tianlan let go.

He looked around in confusion. "This place looks so familiar. Wait, isn't this Traveler's Respite? I think I recognize this place—Dragon Hall, does that mean I'm not dead?"

"Dragon Horn Hall," Jita's voice came again from beneath her hood, correcting him.

Tianlan happily told him, "Of course you're not dead, Parker. Luo Yu picked you up. You have no idea how heroic he was back then."

Luo Yu could not help rubbing his nose, feeling a little embarrassed.

"That's wonderful." The Paparal immediately rolled upright in his chair. "Though it would be even better if you didn't use the word 'picked up.' That makes me sound like a sack of flour."

"You do look rather like one." Jita's voice continued from under the hood, barely louder than a mosquito's buzz.

But Parker pretended not to hear her. He loudly asked again as his short hand reached for a fork of roasted meat on the table, "Then what happened to those Red-brown Elephant-nose Beetles?"

"They're all gone." Tianlan slapped his hand away. "Don't touch that. Those were saved for Brother Ed. He saved all of us."

"Ed?"

"Brother Ed is a Combat Artificer," Jita answered quietly as she finally lifted her hood. "He defeated the boss lady. The rest ran away, and naturally those elephant-nose beetles retreated too."

"A Combat Artificer? Isn't that Luo Yu's most admired kind of person?" The Paparal plopped back into his chair, stretching out his two short legs as he curiously asked, "Then where's my dinner?"

Luo Yu's face turned red, and he hurriedly denied it. "Mr. Parker, I merely like the profession of Combat Artificer."

"It's all about the same." Parker replied as he looked around for his share of dinner. He had only just awakened, yet his stomach was already growling fiercely.

But Tianlan grabbed him by the back of his collar. "Stop looking. You have something more important to do than eat."

"Huh?"

"Come with us to notify Sister Etila."

"Wait," Luo Yu had not yet reacted. "Fuli, didn't Miss Etila tell us to...?"

"Tell us to do what?" Tianlan looked at him dangerously. "Shouldn't Sister Etila be informed of something this important? Besides, Parker wants to meet our savior too."

"No, I don't." The Paparal hurriedly shook his chubby head. "I only want to eat dinner quietly."

Tianlan ignored him outright. At that moment, Luo Yu finally noticed Jita repeatedly signaling him from the side. He was not truly an idiot, and he suddenly understood.

So he scratched his head and said, "All right, that isn't unreasonable. Actually, I also want to see how Mr. Ed's match is going."

"I love you!" Tianlan could not help shrieking excitedly as she hugged him, apparently having completely forgotten their earlier argument. "Come on, let's go find Sister Etila!"

With that, she grabbed Parker by the back of his collar again and dragged the little chubby fellow toward the crowd.

"Wait!" Parker clearly still had no idea what was happening. He shouted, "What are you planning? Do you know that Paparal racial talent means we'll starve to death if we don't eat anything for three hours?—Wait, put me down!"

"Then you've already starved to death twice today, Mr. Parker."

Jita followed behind them, looking at the Paparal crossbowman with a little pity.

"I'm telling the truth!"

So Jita handed him an apple.

Parker took the apple, bit into it, and then continued protesting loudly.

"A true Paparal would rather die than submit, and only eats roasted meat!"

Still asking for votes and bookmarks. On this matter, I too would rather die than submit, I assure you.