"Na'er." Chaluoke said a name.
The sound was not loud, but on the battlefield, in the brief silence after the crimson light pillar dissipated, the name was like a stone thrown into a deep pool, causing silent ripples in circles.
His fingers retracted from the light blue shield in his palm and hung by his side.
Na'er leaned the staff on the ground, and the bottom of the staff was embedded in the stone slab, making a dull clang.
Her crimson robe fluttered in the wind, and her dark brown ponytail swayed gently behind her head.
"You have indeed reached that level." Na'er's tone was a bit complicated.
It's the kind of person who feels relieved and sighs with emotion when he sees that the person he once walked side by side has already come in front of him.
She has known Chaluoke for many years, since he was a rookie in the academy who couldn't even cast basic spells.
During those years, they studied together, ate together, were scolded by teachers together, and got drunk together in pubs late at night.
She watched with her own eyes as he transformed from a rookie to a legendary figure famous in all the countries on the mainland.
Chaluoke looked at Na'er, looking at the face that was a little blurry in his memory, but now stood clearly in front of him.
It seems that not much has changed.
"If that old guy was still here, he would probably be happy to death - even though the grass on his grave is two meters high."
Na'er paused. "... I'll clear it for him when I get back."
Chaluoke The originally complicated expression turned into a twitching of the corners of the mouth.
The old guy, he and Na'er's teacher. An old man with an eccentric temper, a hard mouth and a soft heart, who has profound knowledge in magic theory but always makes mistakes in practice...
"You... haven't changed."
Chaluoke's voice had a hint of hoarseness that he didn't even realize he had.
"That's what I'm saying - aren't you a human being too? What can you do if you change?"
Na'er pulled the staff up from the ground and held it by his side.
"It's you - well... Feixiu was worried before that you had committed suicide, or that you had become a sloppy drunkard somewhere and couldn't take care of yourself.
Look now, you are still the same, but you are a little less confident."
Chaluoke's eyes looked sideways unconsciously.
The smoke has not dissipated, and the gray-white fog is like a blurry glass in his field of vision, separating him from Na'er.
If there hadn't been that storm and that series of disasters, he might still be like that now, working in front of the miners, numbing his nerves with alcohol, and getting through life day by day...
"Feixiu Are you okay?" Chaluoke looked away.
"Okay, everything is fine. We are still in the college. Feixiu is a teacher, and I am her assistant."
Na'er's tone contained a hint of pride. "You didn't expect that little guy to be a teacher, did you?"
Feixiu, the junior sister who followed them back then.
She was timid, and her talent was not outstanding, but she worked hard. She would practice the techniques that others practiced once, ten times, and at that time they all said she was good at it.
Her grades were never the best, but her progress never stopped.
Chaluoke is a little confused.
"Then they..." He thought of many things.
Those days in college, those time spent with friends, those bragging in the pub late at night, discussing the world with classmates...
"Everyone is fine and still there."
Na'er Speaking of this, his tone became weaker.
Her eyes moved away from Chaluoke's face, and fell on the still billowing smoke in the distance, where countless people had been buried, and the memories of their youth had been buried.
"Well, they all said - if you are still alive in this competition, you will probably come here."
Then... they said, if they ever meet you, let them know..."
"No one blames you."
Chaluoke was in a daze for a moment.
"Everyone knows what happened. There were some angry words at the time... Now I really want to say I'm sorry to you."
"No one blames you."
Na'er's voice is very soft.
Chaluoke didn't reply, his fingers slightly bent in his sleeves.
"Are you coming back?" Na'er asked.
Chaluoke held his forehead.
What he was seeing now was more impactful to him than seeing the gods fighting with his own eyes. He had never had such a big reaction when he saw the overwhelming gods' creations before.
He was confused.
Those faces that were blurred in his memory, those people he thought he would never see again in this life, those things he thought he had let go of, those things that were deepest in his heart.
At this moment, everything came rushing up, like a box that had been sealed for a long time was opened, and dust rushed into his face, choking him so much that he couldn't open his eyes.
Na'er added, "Don't worry about being wanted by the empire. That was already the result of a mistake long ago.
We can all testify for you, and we have recently cooperated with the Grand Duke and can ask him to help..."
Chaluoke raised his hand, and a light blue spell flew out from his palm so fast that Na'er only had time to see a trace of light.
That spell hit a person behind Na'er - a guy wearing black leather armor and holding a short knife in his hand, who was sneaking towards him from the smoke.
The guy didn't even have time to scream, he was knocked away by the spell, rolled on the ground several times, and stopped when he hit a piece of gravel.
"Ah - I almost forgot where this is. You can wait till the end -" Na'er hasn't finished speaking yet.
"No." Chaluoke's voice came from the front.
"Sorry, Na'er."
His tone was calm, but when he called her name, his voice was a little louder than before.
Na'er was stunned for a moment. "Huh?"
"I mean--I still have very important things to do now."
Chaluoke's eyes retracted from the smoke in the distance and fell on Na'er's face.
His eyes were very bright, not as high-spirited as before, but as bright as after experiencing too many things and all his emotions had settled down.
"Oh, I got it, it's okay." Na'er nodded.
"Well, now I have a request."
The magic power near Na'er began to surge out from around her body, from the top of her staff, and from her palm at the same time.
Her crimson robe fluttered in the surge of magic power, and her dark brown ponytail flew behind her head.
"I want to see how powerful the legendary mage is!"
"Okay." Chaluoke's fingers stretched out from his sleeves, and a light blue light lit up in his palm.
Medici is suspended in mid-air in the arena, and his gray robes rustle in the wind.
The flame in his left hand rotated in his left palm, like a sun compressed to the extreme.
The frost on his right hand condensed in the palm of his right hand, like a piece of ten-thousand-year-old ice mined from an extremely cold place.
He is waiting for an opportunity. Waiting for the Holy Duke or Reaper of Death to take action, waiting for either party to reveal its flaws first.
He doesn't make the first move, he never makes the first move.
The Holy Duke stood on the ground of the arena, the hem of his black cloak fluttering in the wind.
His hands didn't move.
He just stood there, looking at Medici and Reaper of Death.
He is laughing.
It's the kind of smile that one would smile expectantly when he finally meets an opponent worthy of being taken seriously after standing on the battlefield for too long.
Reaper of Death was suspended on the other side of the arena, his black armor glowing coldly in the afternoon sun.
The dark purple crystal ball on the top of its staff is slowly rotating. Every time it rotates, it absorbs a tiny ray of energy from the surrounding air and sucks it into the ball.
There is a translucent, lavender shield around its body, and the surface of the shield is constantly undulating, like the surface of a lake rippled by the wind.
Three powerful legends gathered here, and the area hundreds of meters near the battle was cleared, and no one dared to approach.
The contestants who were originally fighting in the center of the arena had already run away when Medici started to accumulate power.
No one dares to approach this area, even the group of mystics are hiding far away to secretly buff Reaper of Death.
Several people squatted behind another piece of gravel.
Their bodies huddled together, with only half of their heads exposed. Through the gap between the gravel and the ground, they looked at the cleared area in the distance.
Their clothes were covered with dust, their hair was covered with gravel, and there was a black mark on their faces that they didn't know when they had rubbed off.
Their eyes are so bright that they look like moths seeing light in the dark.
"Hiss--it's really awesome..." One person spoke, his voice was so low that the people next to him had to prick their ears to hear it clearly.
"Being able to see such a powerful battle, even if you die, it's worth the price of admission!" Another person agreed.
"Ha--unsophisticated out-of-town bumpkins." A voice came from behind them.
Those people turned their heads sharply.
A young man wearing a dark blue coat squatted behind them, with his hands in his pockets and a disdainful expression.
His hair was messy, and his face looked arrogant like "you bunch of bumpkins."
"???" Several people were stunned at the same time.
"Brother, who are you?" A young man wearing a mage's robe frowned.
"Where did Fourth Tier noob come from?" Another swordsman in armor made a point.
Fourth Tier, among the contestants, can only be regarded as the middle and lower reaches. Any high-level mage can kill a lot of them.
"Are you Venerable of Ten Thousand Spells? What's your name?" The voice of the young man in mage robes was even louder.
"Bah, bah - can you let me go first? I am a native of Valerirus!"
The young man's voice was filled with a sense of pride. "What do you outsiders know?"
The few people looked at each other and loosened their grip a little.
"You should all know about the black disaster in recent days, right? The origin of this disaster is ours."
The young man's voice was lowered, with a mysterious tone of "Don't be scared by what I'm going to say next."
"What's wrong? Did you see that god with your own eyes?" the armored swordsman asked.
"That's--I saw with my own eyes that Evil God's body covered the sky like a mountain range, and when it let go, it dropped countless black giant soldiers.
At that time, several ancient dragons, Dragon God, fought with him, and the fight was so intense that the sky and the earth were shattered, and the sun and the moon lost all light."
The young man spoke very quickly, but he paused every sentence to give the audience time to digest.
Several other people were stunned for a moment.
"Finally - His Majesty Caesar came down like the sun and kicked Evil God to death!" The young man's voice suddenly rose a few degrees.
"Fuck..." The armored swordsman's mouth opened into an "O" shape.
"Really?" The young man in mage robes said with a hint of doubt in his voice.
"Needless to say? Have you seen those giant dragons at the door?
"Have you ever seen a dragon that big and powerful?
"Caesar Your Majesty, didn't you see him just now?"
The young man asked several questions in succession.
Several people were silent for a moment.
"But - according to what you said, the other countries in mainland China are not enough to slap them in the face."
The armored swordsman couldn't help but say.
"That's right - I, Vagrian, have the best teeth in the world! That's why this competition is held!"
The young man's voice had a sense of "it goes without saying".
"Uh--is the ground shaking?" the young man in mage robe suddenly asked.
"Nonsense, when did it stop? Wait--"
This shaking is a bit severe.
It's not the kind of short-term battle fluctuation, but the kind of roaring shaking that comes from very deep underground, like something is hitting the rock formation hard, and makes people's chest numb.
Boom - several holes were opened in the ground.
It was as if something suddenly pushed up from the ground, causing those stone slabs to bounce up from the ground. They turned several somersaults in the air and then fell heavily to the ground.
The sound of the broken stone slabs and the sound of dust popping out from the cracks mixed together to form a scalp-numbing noise.
From the broken openings, several black hands stretched out.