Morbit and Max weaved through the bustling crowd towards the table reserved for the esteemed hosts. Seated there already was a face they recognized instantly.
“Ah, today we have the pleasure of Titonor’s company,” Morbit remarked as he pulled out his chair and settled in.
Titonor, flashing a smile, responded, “The pleasure is mine. It’s good to see you both.”
Max couldn’t help but chime in, “Everyone knows your name, Titonor! Your fame has reached far beyond the realms of Immortal Legacy!”
With a nod, Morbit turned to address Titonor once more, “We’d be keen to hear your insights on what we can expect from the final round.”
Max eagerly added her agreement, “Especially after the surprising success Broken had with creating that Unique-grade item yesterday.”
Titonor’s face took on a more serious expression as he began, “Given my extensive background in blacksmithing, I must say, Broken made a grave error in this competition. He had an ideal opportunity with the glove item-perfect for the limited time provided in the final round. Instead, he chose to work on the spear, an endeavor I believe he won’t complete in time.”
A look of concern crossed Morbit’s face. “Can you elaborate on why that happened, Mr. Titonor?” he asked.
Titonor sighed lightly before answering, “It’s apparent that Broken underestimated the complexity involved in crafting a high-quality spear. He was overly confident, believing he could manage it within the given timeframe. I feel he relied too much on luck, and, unfortunately, that led to a reckless decision.”
He continued. “Crafting spears and similar weapons demands extraordinary precision. One small mistake can turn a promising piece into a failure,” he declared with conviction.
Morbit tried to lighten the mood. “Well then,” he chirped brightly, “what do you all think? Who do you believe will emerge victorious and claim the grand prize that has eluded so many for decades?”
Max added, “Yes, please, weigh in with your thoughts!”
The final round of the competition had stretched into its third day, with conversations and debates regarding the potential winner intensifying online.
“I’m certain Lanceshot will take the championship.”
“But what about Broken? He could be a dark horse in this race.”
“No one even considers him! He’s unknown, and maybe he just got lucky in the first round, like Titonor said.”
Meanwhile, within the venue, the murmur of voices from the spectator seats suddenly erupted into a commotion. All eyes turned towards the grand arena entrance, where a substantial number of onlookers surged forward, eager to see what had captured everyone’s attention.
To the crowd’s amazement, five imposing figures emerged from the gates. Their presence commanded immediate attention, and whispers of anticipation swept through the audience. “Who are they?” someone asked.
“They’re from the Shadow Wolves guild,” another replied, seemingly surprised by the question. “Haven’t you heard of them?”
“Are they that special?”
“You idiot, two of their members are the Gluttony Champions.”
“Really? I want to get a closer look at them,” someone else added, pushing forward for a better view.
Five members of the Shadow Wolves strode into the grand stadium, immediately commanding the crowd’s attention. Among them, two figures stood out-Blessed with Blessing of Gluttony.
What was even more shocking was the unmistakable red glow of their gamer tags, marking them as player killers with unresolved statuses. Despite this, they boldly appeared in public, facing thousands of spectators without a hint of fear.
“What? The Shadow Wolves are here?!” someone shouted.
“Oh my goodness-Marlene is here!” another exclaimed in awe. “I’ve been a huge fan of hers for so long.”
At the forefront of the group was Paul, the guild master. Dressed in formidable jet-black armor, with a pair of imposing horns crowning his blond head. He was a living testament to his status as both the guild master of the Shadow Wolves and a champion blessed with the Blessing of Gluttony.
Beside him stood Marlene, her tightly fitted black leather outfit accentuating her striking figure. She wore a bright red coat that not only matched her fiery red hair but also made her presence even more commanding. She stood proudly beside Paul, not just as a member of the guild but as a fellow champion of Gluttony.
“Demon!!!” one of the NPCs shouted in terror as he spotted Paul from a distance.
“Will you quiet down!” his companion hissed back.
“But that’s a demon!”
“Yes, I know, but he’s a player too!”
“A player with a demon race? Isn’t that a bit worrisome? Do you think he could be the one behind the recent killings in the kingdom?”
“The royal court has been keeping an eye on him, and so far, he hasn’t done anything wrong. I don’t think players with the demon race are the same as the original demons.”
“No, even though he’s a player of the demon race, I still feel uneasy about him!”
At that moment, several NPCs around the stadium stood up and began to hastily depart, clearly overcome by fear.
The five members of the Shadow Wolves took their seats. Paul’s gaze shifted to the corner of the area, where he spotted a few members of the Ass Guild gathered.
“Looks like this is going to be really boring,” Paul said with a smirk. “We have to fight against the Ass Guild? They’re so weak it won’t even be a challenge. There’s no thrill in the war we
have ahead.”
Marlene, the epitome of sexiness at twenty-two, sat with her right foot resting on her left, her figure drawing many eyes. Her striking presence only amplified the interest around her. “Why don’t we just declare open war on them?” she suggested. “We could show our strength and get a real fight going. It would be far more fun than waiting for them to get stronger. Honestly, dealing with NPCs is getting dull. Killing them isn’t satisfying at all.”
Paul chuckled, already savoring the sense of impending victory. “We just need to kill a few more NPCs,” he added, “and then I can summon the Named Demon. We’ll finish this up quickly and easily.”
Marlene nodded, though her enthusiasm was tempered by a hint of resignation. “Yeah, alright, I guess there’s no other option.”
She glanced towards the arena, observing the competitors hard at work on their items. “He is
Broken.”
“What’s broken?” Paul asked.
“No, I mean, he is the one they’re counting on,” Marlene clarified. “The contestant in the
blacksmith category. His name is Broken.”
“What’s so special about him?” Paul inquired.
“Rumor has it he managed to craft a Legendary-grade item and secured first place in the first round of the competition,” Marlene explained. “Seems like the Ass Guild believes he might win this entire competition and gain greater access to the palace through Broken.”
“Are you sure he’s that good?” Paul questioned. “His name doesn’t ring a bell. Isn’t there Lanceshot competing? He seems more likely to win.”
“Who knows for sure,” Marlene shrugged, “but he has shown remarkable skill so far. From what I’ve heard, the Ass Guild is just trying to use him. They haven’t even invited him to join
their ranks.”
Paul paused, his eyes narrowing as he gazed towards the arena. “Hmm… offer him money and buy him. He seems easy enough to sway.”