Chapter 23 The Final Chapter

A dull sound, like spring thunder, reverberated as metal clashed against metal. Finally, the audience glimpsed Sackray's elusive and mysterious weapon—a black short sword, barely a few inches long. It was now locked against the center of Lancaster's blade, preventing it from moving even an inch downward.

"Now this is more like it," Lancaster said, swiftly reversing his grip and aiming to slice at Sackray's feet. Sackray stood still, his sword already pressing against Lancaster's wrist. Lancaster changed tactics, thrusting diagonally toward Sackray's neck. Sackray leaned back, narrowly dodging the strike. But Lancaster didn't let him catch his breath, immediately pressing his sword forward, as if Sackray's head were willingly presenting itself for the blade.

"Wait!" Sackray cried out. Lancaster, sword still pointed at his neck, asked, "What is it?"

"Judge! Shouldn't this match be over? The arena's completely gone!" The referee, still in shock, finally snapped back to reality. After the earth-shattering blow earlier, the entire arena had indeed sunk into the ground.

Turning to consult with the tournament committee, the referee then announced loudly, "The committee has decided that the final will have no territorial restrictions. Victory is determined only when one concedes!"

"Ahhhh! I'm going to sue you all for aiding and abetting!" Sackray's face contorted in misery, as if he had just swallowed bitter herbs.

"Just accept your fate," Lancaster grinned, his eyes narrowing in delight as Sackray dodged yet again from under his sword.

"Your Majesty, can we stop fighting? This isn't fun at all! How about we go to our chambers and play some more enjoyable games?" Sackray pleaded, his face full of suffering.

"No," Lancaster's reply was crisp, even more so was the sword that came whistling down from above Sackray's head.

"But I really don't want to fight anymore!" Sackray almost wept, dodging the blade by crouching, though he didn't counterattack.

"If you don't want to fight, it's simple—just win!" Lancaster smiled sweetly, like a fox before its prey.

"That's impossible!" Sackray yelled.

"Then you'll just have to make the impossible possible!" Lancaster's voice was brimming with amusement.

The audience was bewildered. What kind of battle was this? One side didn't want to fight, but had no choice, and wasn't even allowed to lose. It was... too tragic. Even the indignant girls who had been rooting for Lancaster started feeling a bit sorry for Sackray.

As the battle dragged on, with neither side gaining the upper hand, two new figures appeared on the platform above.

"Who would have thought Prince Atkins and Princess Anita from the Vatican would honor our knights' tournament with their presence? We are truly graced!" Elder Lee beamed as if his face had blossomed into a flower.

"Indeed, if this Free Knight Tournament were to gain recognition from the Vatican and its participants were bestowed the title of Sacred Ribbon Knight, it would symbolize the beginning of a close alliance between our Free City Federation and the Vatican." Other elders chimed in, eager to flatter.

The two white-clad figures remained emotionless, only nodding slightly. "All is as the will of Faal," they said, their calm, distant demeanor radiating an air of sacred authority that made those around them feel unworthy of offense. Noble and graceful, they seemed not of this world.

Having met with indifference, the elders awkwardly retreated to the sidelines.

Meanwhile, Lancaster, growing increasingly frustrated with Sackray's evasions, suddenly halted his offensive.

"Your Majesty, have you finally come to your senses? We don't have to fight anymore, right?" Sackray's face lit up with joy.

"Sackray, if you win, I might just reward you with that kiss I owe you," Lancaster said, her smile radiating beauty, like a fox smiling at a chicken.

Sackray was dumbfounded, "Really?"

He felt a surge of energy.

"Really," Lancaster confirmed without hesitation.

"You have to keep your word!"

Sackray retreated several paces, lifting his sword. Thin wisps of white vapor began to coil around the black blade, growing denser as the sword rose inch by inch.

Lancaster, sensing danger, summoned his full power. The cold aura emitted from his sword was so intense that those in the nearby audience couldn't help but shiver, feeling as though fine ice needles were piercing their bones.

Everyone knew this next move would decide the victor. Who would claim the title of Free Knight and the prize of 10,000 brins? Sackray or Lancaster?

Both warriors reached the peak of their swordsmanship. In the next moment...

"Lancaster!"

"Lancaster, brother!"

"We found you! How fortunate!"

"We've been searching for you for ages."

The oppressive tension in the arena vanished instantly. The two figures from the platform, previously so dignified and aloof, were now shouting excitedly. The woman even hiked up her skirt, preparing to descend from the platform.

"Lancaster, brother, wait for me! I'm coming to you!"

The man, faster, leaped down first, arms outstretched, rushing toward Lancaster. "Lancaster! I've prayed to Faal for this day, and it's finally here! Come, let me embrace you!"

"Oh no!" Lancaster's sword had slipped from his hand, falling to the ground unnoticed. "How on earth did I run into these lunatics here?"

"I thought they'd never set foot in the Free City Federation! Could this be Faal's punishment?"

Without a second thought, Lancaster bolted to the other side of the arena, grabbing the stunned Sackray by the hand, and dashed out of the coliseum at a speed even faster than before.

"Lancaster, don't run! It's me, Atkins! Wait for me!"

"Lancaster, brother, wait for us~~~"

"That's exactly why I'm running!" Lancaster yelled over his shoulder, running even faster.

Lancaster and Sackray sprinted wildly, who knew for how long, until exhaustion finally forced them to stop.

Gasping for breath, Sackray bent over, panting. "Your Majesty, what was that all about? Who are they?"

Lancaster looked disgusted. "Don't ask. I don't know how I got mixed up with those two lunatics. It's a cursed fate. Absolutely terrifying!"

It was rare to see Lancaster so shaken, even using the word "terrifying" to describe the situation. Sackray wisely refrained from further questions, sensing that these were not people to trifle with.

"But, weren't we still in the middle of a fight?" Sackray asked hesitantly.

"Do you want to go back and finish it?" Lancaster snapped.

"No, no!" Sackray waved his hands frantically. "It's just a pity we were so close to earning the title of Free Knight!"

"Who cares about that nonsense?" Lancaster wrinkled his nose.

"But Manning still owes us 10,000 brins!"

"That's true. Letting that brat get away with it... But don't worry, we'll collect sooner or later," Lancaster clenched his fist.

"Yes, and with interest!" Sackray added.

Poor Manning, your days are numbered.

Finally catching his breath, Sackray took a moment to survey their surroundings. His eyes widened. "Your Majesty, Your Majesty!"

"What now?" Lancaster grumbled, letting go of Sackray's hand.

"Look where we are!"

Lancaster glanced around, then burst into laughter, collapsing onto the ground. Blue skies, white clouds, and patches of scorched earth with tufts of grass that looked like bald spots.

Wasn't this Bukilis?

In their panicked flight, they had somehow run right back to where they started.

"Hahaha!" Both of them laughed uncontrollably, gazing at each other.

What a strange twist of fate indeed.

"Your Majesty, where shall we go next?" Sackray rolled over, lying beside Lancaster.

"No rush. Let's rest for now. We still have plenty of time…" Lancaster lay back, resting his head on his arms, a blade of grass between his lips, smiling softly.

Sackray mirrored the smile. "Yes, no matter where we go, as long as I'm by your side."

Golden sunlight bathed them in warmth and beauty. Yes, before the next storm arrives, let them rest.

Rest, for a little while.

In the lovely Bukilis, today, the sun shines brightly.

The Free City Federation, End.