At noon on the third day, Zhang Wen, Yanmo Agate, Xiao Xi, Shura, and others boarded the Star Moon ship and set off toward the final battleground for the South Realm Champion.
Zhang Wen gazed silently out the transparent window at the passing scenery, his expression contemplative. His wounds had fully healed, not only that, but his Spring Water Qi had even advanced further. Still, the fact that Irina had left without a word left him puzzled.
After a night of passion, the next morning brought only the lingering scent of perfume. Zhang Wen certainly had no deep feelings for Irina, but still, leaving without saying goodbye felt unsettling.
Shaking his head, he adjusted his mood. Soon, the final stage of the South Realm Champion competition would begin. No one knew what awaited them. Thinking of the hidden Black Viscount, the deadly machine Goren, and the enigmatic Imperial Fang, Remi—none of these opponents were easy to deal with.
In contrast, his ally, Omega the Thunder God, had unexpectedly been gravely injured, leaving only an empty shell. Zhang Wen felt that this mission was full of uncertainty. He had to be cautious.
“Zhang Wen, come look at this,” Laila peeked halfway through the door, waving him over.
Zhang Wen nodded and walked back into the room from the corridor. Inside, Iniel, Laila, and Rovelle were already seated, along with Shura, Agate, and Xiao Xi—some of Zhang Wen’s closest companions.
Carite had been confined at the Governor’s mansion and couldn’t come. The young beauty Amelis had wanted to join, but Zhang Wen had convinced her otherwise. The South Realm Champion finals were sure to be anything but peaceful; there was no need to drag them into such a dangerous environment.
During the few days Zhang Wen had rested on the planet Casares, Laila had remained aboard the Star Moon ship, busily gathering intelligence for their plan. Now was the time to see the results. Though the nature of her relationship with Zhang Wen had never been openly discussed, everyone had some idea. Since Zhang Wen hadn’t spoken of it, no one asked.
“Everyone, look at this map,” Laila said, satisfied that everyone had gathered around the table. She tapped a specific point on the map with a long pointer stick—the location of the final battleground.
Laila was still dressed in her maid outfit, a disguise to hide her identity aboard the Star Moon. The contrast between her serious expression and the black lace-trimmed skirt and elegant black stockings was striking.
The map was hand-drawn, based on intelligence Laila had gathered through her own channels. She had analyzed and summarized the information, now presenting it to Zhang Wen and his friends. Everyone was on the same ship; the more they knew, the better their chances in the competition.
“This location is the core of the Infinite Arena, and also the largest of the 842 islands,” Laila paused, scanning the room with a calm gaze before continuing, “According to my intelligence, there are sixteen teams participating in this tournament, each led by a super-advanced or near-super-advanced warrior, with team sizes ranging from five to ten members.”
“Additionally, there are ten super-advanced warriors participating, including Omega the Thunder God, sponsored by Hassan; Apollo the Sun God; Batengping, supported by Governor Termiso of Casares; and Batuli the Mad, backed by Governor Karayan. There are also four super-advanced warriors supported by the Imperial nobility, and two from the Federation and the Alliance. That’s the general situation.”
Despite her cute maid outfit, Laila exuded a sharp, capable aura that commanded respect.
No wonder she had managed to protect herself in the Imperial military environment—she was clearly no ordinary woman. To gather this much intelligence in such a short time was no small feat. Still, Zhang Wen couldn’t help but ask, “Is there anything else?”
He hadn’t realized how much Termiso had invested in the tournament. But his rival, Karayan, had also sent a champion—this would certainly be an interesting match.
Laila’s pointer traced a circle on the map. “There’s also a rumor that this largest island is different from the others. No one knows exactly what lies on it.”
“In other words, we all start on equal footing, not knowing the terrain. That’s fine,” Agate said, twisting his earring, his eyes gleaming with hatred.
“Have you heard anything about the executioner Goren?” Xiao Xi asked hopefully.
“That information hasn’t surfaced yet,” Laila apologized.
Shura, who had been deep in thought, finally asked, “We’re supposed to be on Omega’s team. Do we know anything about the other teams’ strengths and weaknesses?”
Zhang Wen noticed Rovelle signaling him from across the table. Ever since boarding the Star Moon, she had sought him out. He suspected it was something from Omega, but with so many people around, it wasn’t convenient to talk. Seeing her signal, he nodded and excused himself with the others, stepping out into the corridor with Rovelle.
The long corridor was spotless and empty—everyone was preparing for the final battle, most resting in their cabins.
Rovelle glanced around before pulling Zhang Wen to the window. “Master wants me to tell you that during the finals, you and your friends will be on our team. Just follow his orders.”
Follow Omega’s orders?
Zhang Wen shook his head and looked Rovelle in the eye. “Does Omega still have the strength to lead? I heard his condition isn’t good.”
“You… you…” Rovelle hadn’t expected this sudden question. Her face paled. Master had strictly forbidden her from telling anyone—how did Zhang Wen know?
“Don’t be nervous,” Zhang Wen said, sensing her fear. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, looking into her blue eyes, and brushed a strand of red hair from her ear. The tender gesture eased her tension slightly.
“I figured it out myself. Omega is too injured to compete seriously. What’s he planning?”
Rovelle hesitated, avoiding his gaze. She bit her lip, then finally looked up. “I can only tell you this—promise me you won’t tell anyone.”
Zhang Wen nodded solemnly.
Rovelle took a deep breath. “On the way here, Master was ambushed by unknown attackers. They were well-prepared—two super-advanced and several Saint-level warriors. Master killed six, but he was gravely wounded. He barely escaped…”
Her eyes misted over. “His condition is terrible. If anyone finds out…”
Zhang Wen nodded. He understood Omega’s predicament. With his temper, Omega had made many enemies. If they knew his weakness, his days were numbered. And whoever attacked him might not stop.
“What’s his plan now?”
Without realizing it, Rovelle had leaned into Zhang Wen’s embrace. She didn’t resist, instead relaxing against his chest. His warmth comforted her.
“He’s probably just holding on, hoping to use the chaos of the tournament to disappear.”
Zhang Wen considered this. Omega wouldn’t miss this tournament unless something was seriously wrong. He had to participate to maintain the illusion of strength. Whether he won or not wasn’t the point—just being there would draw attention away from his weakened state.
The real challenge was survival among sixteen teams. The Empire had the most super-advanced warriors—about twenty. Ten were here, showing how much attention this tournament had drawn.
In such a dangerous arena, survival would be no easy feat.
Zhang Wen’s team seemed powerful—Omega, Agate, and himself (rumored to have reached super-advanced during the second stage). But in truth, he was a fake super-advanced, Omega was a shell, and Agate was the weakest of the super-advanced. Their team was far from strong.
Worse, their reputation as the “Three Super-Advanced” might draw attacks from other teams—something Zhang Wen had seen in academy tournaments.
But there was no avoiding it. He had two goals: stop the Black Viscount and help Agate and Xiao Xi find Goren. And survive.
Zhang Wen held Rovelle close, her scent filling his senses.
She shifted slightly in his arms, as if to pull away, but he held her tighter, seeing her ears flush red.
“Don’t…” Her face turned even redder, like wine-stained lips. Her legs tensed.
Seeing the Poisonous Rose in such a vulnerable state made Zhang Wen smile. He lifted her chin and gently kissed her lips. She had changed—no longer wearing purple lipstick or heavy eye makeup. Perhaps because of him, she had become softer, more feminine.
Caught off guard, Rovelle blushed but felt a sweet warmth. Ever since Zhang Wen had defied Omega to save her from exile, something had shifted in her heart.
Still, standing in a public corridor—even if no one was watching—felt unfamiliar. The Poisonous Rose had never acted like this before. Only with Zhang Wen did she show this side.
Zhang Wen found her shyness amusing and was about to tease her more when he heard footsteps. A silver-haired girl in a tight uniform passed by, glancing at them with a smile before walking away.
Zhang Wen was surprised—wasn’t that the girl he’d seen at the Governor’s mansion? Her appearance reminded him of the female swordsman from the arena. Could they be the same person?
Shaking the thought aside, he noted that Shura wasn’t here—he would have recognized her.
Hours later, the Star Moon finally arrived at the Infinite Arena’s central island. From above, it looked like a giant chessboard, surrounded by hundreds of smaller islands.
Several other ships had already arrived. The tournament was about to begin.
“Alright, everyone,” Anthony, the blue-clad man, called out. “Gather around. Let me explain the rules.”
Zhang Wen and his companions stepped off the ship together. They wouldn’t separate—not in this dangerous competition.
Laila stayed behind on the Star Moon, continuing her role as the “little maid” to gather intelligence.
Zhang Wen estimated the island’s size—thousands of square kilometers. The landing area was a vast plain near the beach, easily accommodating dozens of ships.
The horizon blurred—this would be a vast battlefield.
Anthony continued, “According to Mr. Hassan’s plan, we are divided into three teams. Team One is led by Omega the Thunder God, with Zhang Wen, Agate, Xiao Xi, Shura, Maryan, Rovelle, Gro…”
Hassan had given them a favor—or Omega had negotiated. Zhang Wen’s team was intact, a strategic advantage.
“Team Two is led by Apollo the Sun God…”
Apollo was known for his fiery power but had remained hidden during the trials.
“Team Three is led by Anthony…”
This surprised everyone. Anthony himself?
Hassan smiled, puffing his cigar. “Anthony is my trusted man. He’s super-advanced. Everyone who joins my team will be well rewarded. Show me what you’ve got!”
The competitors exchanged glances. Omega and Apollo were well-known, but Anthony? Still, the money was tempting.
“What’s Hassan up to?” Shura whispered.
“Who knows? He’s hedging his bets. But winning with his ‘insiders’ would be more profitable.”
As they spoke, Termiso’s team, led by Batengping, stepped off the ship. He nodded at Zhang Wen.
“Alright, everyone, let’s head to the final arena.”
Hassan led the way into a waiting dragon carriage. Dozens followed.
The teams rode toward the arena, tension rising.
Half an hour later, they arrived—not the final battlefield, but the central island. At its center stood a massive rune circle, glowing with ancient energy.
A deep voice echoed, “Silence!”
A heavy staff struck the stone, and the runes flared with magical light.
A tall figure stood atop the stone platform—a white-robed elder with a golden staff and an eagle mask.
“I am the Creator of the Infinite Arena. You may call me—King.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd. The legendary King, said to be the only one who could kill a King.
“Silence!” His staff struck again, and a radiant light surrounded him.
“I am joined by the Arbitration Committee. First, the North Realm Champion, the Legendary Swordswoman, Miseya!”
A hologram appeared—a silver-haired woman in a silver battle suit and mask.
The crowd fell silent.
North Realm Champion?
Zhang Wen and Shura exchanged shocked glances.
That woman—the swordsman from the underground arena in Casares?
She was the North Realm Champion? What a joke?!
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