The Tournament Begins

"Continue!"

With a roar, the Royal Fist Temple contestant sank into a horse stance, gathering strength in his waist. His fists clenched tightly, and the knuckle-dusters in his hands spun rapidly as if they had a life of their own, creating a dizzying effect.

Then, the contestant suddenly stepped forward, gripping the knuckle-duster in a reverse hold, and struck at his opponent's head like a flash of lightning!

Screech—!

The ear-piercing sound of metal clashing filled the air as the two fighters clashed at such speed that countless afterimages were produced. In the blink of an eye, they passed each other in a blur!

Like a scene from a movie, one moment they were moving at lightning speed, and the next, everything seemed to freeze. The two fighters stood back to back, half a meter apart, both completely still.

The Royal Fist Temple contestant felt cold sweat drip from his forehead as he glanced down to see a deep gash across his chest, exposing raw flesh and bone. His right wrist's tendons had been severed, rendering his hand useless.

However, the assassin-like youth behind him was in even worse shape. His dark combat attire was soaked in blood, with not a single part of his body unscathed.

At the sound of the referee's whistle, the match was declared over, and the medical team, who had been waiting on the sidelines, rushed in to carry both fighters out of the arena.

The referee then announced that the match had ended in a draw.

A brief silence followed before the crowd in the coliseum erupted into thunderous applause and cheers.

Seated in the stands, Selene was immediately struck by the intense atmosphere emanating from the spectators.

Cheers rose and fell like crashing waves, the sound so loud that it was difficult to hear anything else up close.

Soon, the next match began...

...

Later that afternoon, Selene left the Imperial Arena, feeling a bit bored. She had spent the entire afternoon watching matches from the spectator seats, seeing a variety of martial arts styles, each more dazzling than the last.

However, as the matches went on, Selene grew tired of it all. None of the fighters had been strong enough to impress her; to her, their skills were child's play.

Not a single one of them can fight.

"Sigh, I should go find Sebas. I wonder where he bought the house... let me see... Ah, found him." Using her connection with her familiar, Selene easily sensed Sebas's location.

"Is this it?" Selene muttered as she inspected the small villa. She nodded in approval.

Though not large, the villa had a modern flair, with its sleek lines and silver-framed windows giving it a fresh, elegant, and comfortable appearance.

The exterior was covered in white and cream-colored tiles, which gave the whole building a warm and welcoming feel from a distance.

As expected, Sebas's taste, as an old gentleman, never disappoints.

"Sebas, I'm back! Prepare dinner for me!" Selene called out loudly.

...

A week later.

Having spent an entire day at home as a shut-in, Selene groggily got out of bed, feeling a bit disoriented. She instinctively reached for her phone to check the weather, but...

"Ah, no signal... Oh, right, I'm in an ancient world. Never mind."

Eventually, at Sebas's urging, Selene quickly completed her morning routine. After donning her armor in a flash, she yawned and headed to the Imperial Arena.

Not long after, Selene, munching on the breakfast Sebas had prepared, arrived at the Imperial Arena.

Welcomed by the event officials, she passed through a long security check before being directed to a relatively quiet private waiting room to await the official start of the Royal Fist Temple Martial Arts Tournament.

After half-listening to the long-winded opening speeches by the leaders, Selene couldn't help but mutter, "Figures... no matter where you go, the speeches are always so long."

As she waited for the drawing of lots to determine the match order, Selene, with nothing else to do, stepped out of the waiting room and wandered over to the spectator stands.

Today was the official opening day of the tournament, and the entire capital was overflowing with people.

Inside the Imperial Arena, it was a sea of excitement, and even the previously vacant VIP seats on the central platform were now fully occupied.

"I've heard that the Empire is putting a lot of importance on this tournament."

"You don't say. According to my cousin's friend's nephew, General Budo himself is attending. They're even planning an exhibition match between the Royal Fist Temple and the Imperial military."

"Are they sending in the Imperial Guards?"

"The Imperial Guards? Haha, no. We're talking about the Empire's regular army, the professional soldiers, not the militia who just bully commoners."

"...But since General Budo is here, do you think the Emperor himself might attend?"

"Hmm, it's possible. General Budo is, after all, the Emperor's personal protector."

"Why are you overthinking it? Just enjoy the show."

"Heh... I've placed quite a few bets."

"A big shot is coming, huh?" Listening to the chatter around her, Selene pondered the situation.

No wonder the security is so tight today. There are even Imperial Guards patrolling outside the arena.

As she was lost in thought, the sudden roar of "Long live the Emperor!" snapped Selene back to reality.

"Is the Emperor here?"

Soon, the commotion from the central platform confirmed her guess.

A middle-aged man dressed in a white and gold robe and wearing a crown encrusted with colorful gems appeared at the center of the platform, holding a scepter. He stood at the prime spot of the Imperial Arena, directly facing the Imperial Palace, with the best view of the competition below.

His identity was unmistakable.

However, the current Emperor of the Empire looked somewhat haggard. His constant coughing and pallor were clear signs that his health had recently taken a turn for the worse.

Beside him was a noblewoman in ornate palace attire, who accompanied him with respect and gentle care. A few steps behind them stood the officials in charge of the tournament.

"Your Majesty." At that moment, a tall, broad-shouldered man, standing at 190 cm with tawny hair and a stern expression, clad in heavy armor, quickly approached the Emperor and bowed respectfully.

"General Budo, how are the preparations?" The Emperor asked with a smile.

General Budo replied respectfully, "Everything is ready. The drawing of lots is complete, the match order has been set, and the Imperial Guard has been deployed. We are prepared and await your command, Your Majesty."

The Emperor coughed a few times before smiling and nodding. "Cough... Very well. By my command, the Martial Arts Tournament shall begin!"

"Yes, Your Majesty." With that, General Budo bowed low, then stepped back and left to carry out the orders.