Chapter 318
Chapter 318
Chapter 318
Translator: True Detective
Chapter 318: Principal Lan Qi’s Elite Training
After Shaya gradually walked out from the shadows, the originally noisy arena slowly fell into silence.
That blend of sinister charm and wild arrogance made people wonder if he had become a completely different person.
“He was clearly supposed to awaken the spirit of a lion’s bravery…”
If one had to describe the very first impression Shaya gave at this moment—
It could only be that of a corrupted commander of the Demon King’s special slaughter unit, tainted and fallen.
The blood-stained, dark double-layered leather armor clung tightly to his body, while the outer layer was loose, with robe-like sleeves. A scarf-like collar covered his mouth and chin.
In his left hand, he held that transparent umbrella resting on his shoulder. In the long sleeve of his right arm, several willow-leaf knives slipped into the gaps between his fingers.
For a moment, only the sound of nervous swallowing remained in the air. People felt as if some primal fear had been awakened. On him lingered something even those demons in the northern panic-inducing visions never possessed.
“Shaya!”
Viscount Levin Kingston gripped the railing and stood up. In his vision, slightly clouded by unstable blood pressure, the entire arena seemed inverted in tone, falling into dead silence. Only faint noises hinted that time was still moving forward.
Yet—
That crimson figure acted as if he couldn’t hear the call, or even if he did, he could not turn back. Perhaps his heart had already become as firm as iron, carrying him forward without hesitation.
Viscount Levin could only stare blankly as Shaya’s unfamiliar back grew more distant, until he finally stepped onto the dueling platform.
Beneath that unshakable aura of blood and killing intent lay a burden of crimes fully acknowledged. The once-clear and courageous boy now stood in a sea of blood.
Who knew how many lives he had taken in these past few days, to forge such an almost tangible murderous aura? This wasn’t something born from training—this was carved out of life and death, built upon corpses!
Viscount Leiwen, who had once stood on the battlefield, knew this truth well.
On the ground—
At the opposite side of the arena, already waiting on the bright white marble floor, stood Dean Bone, the son of Viscount Blake Bone. He narrowed his eyes slightly, then sneered with contempt.
“Heh, are you a young lady? If you put on a skirt, maybe you’d really look pretty.”
Dean gave a mocking smile.
If intimidation alone could win, then the Royal Magic Academy of Protos would have already opened its doors wide for Shaya. But a second-rank, fallen assassin could never hope to stand against a warrior like him, trained properly and backed by family resources.
That was the irreparable gap between formal training and crooked paths.
“……”
Shaya slowly mounted the platform, his mouth a firm line, his gaze treating Dean as nothing more than a pig ready for slaughter.
He ignored Dean entirely, standing like a soldier trained to await the command to kill.
Dean’s eyes sharpened, cracking his knuckles.
Though the rules of this duel forbade killing—
If by chance he slipped, Viscount Kingston couldn’t punish him.
Shaya wasn’t family, and Dean’s father had already said he could strike without restraint—he would handle the aftermath.
As for Shaya? He wouldn’t dare deal a killing blow. If he injured Dean, then the Bone family would crush him today without hesitation!
The countdown to the match ticked on. Only a few dozen seconds remained.
Clouds drifted away overhead, once again bathing the arena in the winter sun. Light climbed across the spectators’ faces, and chatter resumed with excitement.
None knew why Shaya had changed so drastically, or what it truly meant.
But perhaps it was this unexpected, strange new direction of power that made the duel all the more thrilling!
High above in the stands, Lilith stared at the platform, silent, her gaze never leaving Shaya.
Not far away, Viscount Levin looked at his daughter, then at Shaya again. For some reason, a sharp nerve pain jolted through the back of his head, reminding him of recent reports—
Ghost Party strongholds outside the city had been wiped out in a storm of violence, their members brutally massacred as if to serve as a bloody warning.
Strangely, those of fourth rank or higher were all slain instantly, but weaker ones below fourth rank were left mutilated in horrific ways, spreading terror among the Ghost Party.
It had been so brutal that, fearing mass panic, the lords of the Snowfield Province chose not to make the details public, even though technically it was “good news.”
No… it couldn’t be… could it…?
Viscount Levin muttered inwardly, his ears filled only with the rise and fall of the citizens’ voices.
“Legend has it the famed Candis family’s heritage magic was a spiritual psychokinesis spell, combining human and elven runes, capable of manifesting the wielder’s inner image. Young Master Shaya’s heart image is a protective umbrella—if it can evolve into a new form of weapon through his awakening, that will be his chance to win!”
“Yes! That’s exactly how the storybooks tell it—burning with passion! Even if he must fall into darkness for a time, it is all to gain new power!”
The winter afternoon sun gleamed, and the clock’s hands neared the hour.
Though Shaya’s aura was eerie and strange, perhaps this was simply the style he had chosen to display.
For the weaker side, adding suspense and mystery to the duel was undeniably more captivating.
DONG… DONG…
As the great bell’s hands aligned with the sky, the heavy sound echoed through the arena.
Each resonant strike proclaimed the coming clash of honor and defeat.
The audience’s shouts surged with the rhythm, forming a wave of fiery anticipation.
As the final chime faded, the duel began. Victory and loss, glory and regret—would now be decided!
At the center, Shaya Candis and Dean Bone locked eyes. The air thickened with pressure, ready to erupt at the smallest spark.
“Match—begin!”
The booming voice of Kingston’s Knight Corps Captain, serving as referee, shattered the brief silence. At once, battle was joined!
Contrary to expectations that Shaya would rely on evasive skirmishing, he cast aside all assassin tactics. Instead, like a starving beast, he launched into a direct charge, his breath steaming like a predator’s hunger for slaughter!
Dean faltered, surprised that Shaya would throw himself into a head-on clash. But then he smirked. A lower-ranked assassin daring to face him straight-on? That made it all the easier.
In an instant, steel clashed. Sparks rang out, rippling across the marble like waves of sound, lifting the hair of even distant spectators. The duel had ignited faster and fiercer than anyone expected.
Both fighters were driven by primal forces, neither yielding an inch.
For Dean, it was combat.
For Shaya, it was carnage.
Though weaker in strength and stamina, Shaya seemed immune to pain, his mouth curling into a manic grin, craving Dean’s flesh as if the duel was not fear but pure enjoyment!
Dean faltered—Shaya wasn’t following the rules at all. From the start, he had only wanted to kill him!
And unlike Dean’s malice-driven killing intent, Shaya’s was a hundred times purer. He was born to fight, to kill, until death.
“Don’t get so full of yourself!”
Dean roared in fury, gritting his teeth as he raised his sword again. Having his momentum suppressed enraged him—after all, he was the stronger one. Continue like this, and surely Shaya would lose.
But the fight was far bloodier than the crowd had anticipated. The pure white marble floor was soon splattered red, stained and ugly—not glorious spectacle, but raw horror.
This brutal, death-defying style was not dueling—it was slaughter.
It was like witnessing the will of the Demon King’s army itself.
Only those who had lived through the Holy War of the past would recognize it instantly, never to forget.
“There’s an old saying in the Demon Realm… Only by crossing the threshold of life and death can one become a true warrior of the Demon Realm…”
“Perhaps those slaughter troops we saw in the old images lacked this very madness…”
Murmurs rippled through the stands.
Even if no one knew why the demons came to mind—
Now, looking at Shaya’s figure—
The memory buried in blood and history began to awaken once again…
(To be continued.)