Chapter Fifty: The Opening

At dawn, Lando awoke from the soft, luxurious bed. Today marked the opening day of the appraisal exhibition, an event he had long anticipated. Though he felt a touch of laziness and reluctance to move, he nevertheless rose resolutely and washed up, unwilling to let excitement be dulled by lethargy.

Life within the Brasso family these past days had certainly tested Lando’s weaknesses. While it hadn’t reached the point where he merely stretched out a hand for clothes or opened his mouth for food, the service had been impeccable. Whatever he wished to eat, he needed only mention it, and the servants would notify the kitchen, which promptly prepared the dish for him. If he offered no special instructions, a variety of exquisite delicacies appeared before him in endless succession.

Had he not been steadfast in his refusals, the two young maids at his door would have come to warm his bed every night. His reason for declining was simple—not because of any weakness in that regard or out of moral fastidiousness—but rather that the maids were simply too young, making it impossible for him to even consider such a thing. His refusal, however, seemed to have conveyed the wrong message to Umut, for the very next day the maids became remarkably proper and never again attempted to tempt him.

Lando could only lament that this backward world lacked big data, making it impossible for old Umut to truly understand his intentions.

Having thus conquered his weaknesses, Lando’s days here were, all things considered, not half bad (were they?). Packing up his belongings, he stepped out of his room, where the steward was already waiting.

“Master Lando, the lord invites you to breakfast.”

“Lead the way, then.”

“At once.”

Upon entering the dining hall, he found Umut and Metaru already there. Umut was sipping tea, while Metaru sat upright and attentive.

Seeing Lando, Umut set his teacup aside and rose to greet him, with Metaru quickly following suit.

“Good morning, Mr. Lando. Today’s breakfast is rather special; I do hope you’ll savor it,” Umut said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Oh? For you to call it special, Mr. Umut, I’m most intrigued.”

Soon, the servants brought out three bowls of soup. The broth was crystal clear, adorned only with a scattering of green, chive-like herbs.

“What is this?” Lando inquired.

Umut simply gestured for Lando to taste it first.

Lando took a sip. A fresh, sweet flavor instantly filled his senses, so exquisite that before he realized it, the bowl was empty.

Lingering over the taste, he waited until Umut and Metaru had finished as well before asking eagerly, “What is this delicacy?!”

Umut laughed. “It’s a kind of ice-fish unique to the north, surviving only in the coldest temperatures. If removed from the cold, it dies instantly and melts away into ice water. It can only be prepared while alive, which is rare. This morning, a fresh batch arrived by chance, so I thought to let you try it. I’m glad you enjoyed it—my efforts to discern your tastes these days have not been wasted.”

“It truly is a culinary marvel!” Lando exclaimed. He could tell that this soup owed little to the hand of the cook and everything to the natural flavor of the ingredient itself. If only he could bring some back for old Moore—it would not only settle part of his debt but also provide quite the feast.

He had originally planned to depart for the Kingdom of the Scorching Sun as soon as his affairs here concluded, but now it seemed that journey would have to be postponed.

By the time Lando arrived at the exhibition hall, the place was already bustling, with most of the guests dressed in splendid attire. The first item at the entrance was a totem pole, about two meters tall and as thick as a man’s embrace. It bore the marks of age and fierce battle, its surface covered with mottled scars. It appeared to be made of some mineral, and at that moment, several scholar-like figures were engaged in a lively debate around it.

“…a weapon unique to the ancient Bull Demon tribe, but these patterns—”

“I’ve specialized in the history of the Bull Demons. Only the great figures of the tribe were permitted to carve such patterns on their weapons. Its owner must have been either the chieftain or the mightiest warrior.”

“The material appears to be a single block of brass ore. The marks are deeply imbued with the weight of history, and there’s no sign of forgery. This should be genuine.”

“Indeed. When it comes to historical value—”

Lando tuned out the rest. As he drew near, his system informed him that a soul could be extracted here.

This auspicious beginning delighted him.

[Bull Demon Warrior (Blue): Tenacity (Blue), Herculean Strength (Blue), Endurance (Blue), Advanced Vital Energy Affinity (Green)]

[Tenacity (Blue): As injuries become more severe, the activity of vital energy increases dramatically, enhancing defense and life recovery.]

[Herculean Strength (Blue): Possesses innate, formidable strength, which grows with power.]

[Endurance (Blue): Possesses innate, formidable endurance, which grows with power.]

Here was a soul with three blue-grade talents. Although only [Tenacity (Blue)] was worth 3,000 points, while [Herculean Strength (Blue)] and [Endurance (Blue)] were entry-level blue talents worth 1,000 each, it was clear that the Bull Demon race was truly formidable.

Ignoring the scholars’ discussions, Lando eagerly plunged into the vast hall, eager to continue his treasure hunt.

…

While Lando happily reaped these rewards, at the border where the Azurewater Kingdom met the Scorching Sun Kingdom, a different scene unfolded.

At the Sishui Fortress—a border bastion painstakingly constructed by the Azurewater Kingdom, designed to guard the vital pass and renowned for its defensive strength—Prince Sandy stood clad in golden armor, engraved with blazing flame motifs, exuding an aura of authority and power. Behind him stood a thousand soldiers, handpicked from tens of thousands, each one a knight in his own right.

A silent, lethal tension pervaded the ranks. The soldiers’ gazes upon their prince were filled with fervent admiration.

The adjutant approached Sandy and spoke with concern, “Your Highness, your injuries…”

The adjutant, of course, had absolute faith in his prince. However, the opponent not long ago had been the heir to the Storm King. Though the prince’s victory was expected, he had sustained serious injuries, and the adjutant couldn’t help but worry.

“It’s nothing. My reason for waiting until now was not only to allow my boiling strength to grow but also to fully recover. Now, I am at my absolute peak, better than ever before,” Prince Sandy replied with a gentle smile.

His words carried to the rear, where the soldiers’ adoration only deepened.

“Are you prepared?” the prince asked.

“Your Highness, all is ready! Please issue your command!” the adjutant replied loudly.

Everyone present knew their purpose. Though they numbered only a thousand, and though the Sishui Fortress had withstood sieges from tens of thousands for a month without falling, they believed that with Prince Sandy leading them, nothing could stand in their way.

A blaze erupted from the prince, rapidly spreading as if to engulf the world. The soldiers were swept up in this realm of fire, their bodies radiating a mighty aura of flame, their pupils vanishing, replaced by a burning crimson glow.

The long sword pointed toward the Sishui Fortress.

“Attack!”

“Attack! Attack! Attack!”