Chapter 22: Two Completely Opposite Orders

“Him?”

Lund was taken aback.

But the next second, he almost instantly remembered those fiercely beast-like eyes that peeked out from under the knight’s visor… The memory of those eyes still sent a chill down his spine and made his heart pound with fear, even now.

“The guy’s strength was around that of a One-Star Warrior, but weirdly, he didn’t have a shred of Battle Qi. It was like he was born with unbelievable Divine Power…” Lund spoke slowly, recollecting with lingering dread. “Besides that, he felt… like a wild, growing beast. Fiercely bloodthirsty. Like a creature born just for fighting.”

“Beast?”

The Silver Masked Man placed his jade cup down, finally turning his gaze onto Lund. He chuckled softly, “That’s very vivid. An interesting comparison… Lund, do you think it would be even more interesting if I caught this ‘beast’ and sent him to the Empire’s Colosseum?”

“Sent to the Colosseum? Master is wise…” Lund offered a small flattery. “A madman like him would definitely become the greatest beast-fighter at the Empire’s Colosseum! Buyers would be fighting over him!”

The Colosseum on the Azeroth Continent was a place the upper nobles of the great Empires flocked to.

Bloody shows unfolded there almost daily. Slaves born with Divine Power or trained specifically for killing were forced into life-or-death battles against bizarre, savage beasts, all just to amuse the nobles.

Such bloody spectacles had a long history on Azeroth. Originally just sacrificial rituals for the God of War, they had evolved into entertainment for nobles seeking thrills. As more and more nobles became obsessed, the Colosseums grew into a staggeringly massive industry. Countless imperial powers were involved, even fueling the growth of gambling across the continent. Many became fabulously wealthy, while just as many lost everything and perished.

However, it’s worth noting that the selection of beast-fighters was strict: only slaves or commoners without warrior titles could participate. Warriors with Battle Qi and Mages were absolutely forbidden. The Warriors League and Mage Guild of Azeroth considered using them in the Colosseums an insult to the honor of all warriors and mages.

Of course, it wasn’t always this way.

Once, nobles from powerful empires didn’t follow this rule. Many warriors and mages were forced to bleed and fight in the arenas. This angered the most powerful beings on Azeroth. Over five hundred years ago, countless top-tier powerhouses heeded the call of Sun-level Master Beckenbauer and Grand Sorceress Pele from the Dusk Monastery. They joined forces to issue the Warrior Honor Declaration and mercilessly crushed 241 empires that violated it, along with over 10,000 colosseums. Since then, no nation or individual dared risk the wrath of those peak powerhouses by throwing warriors or mages into the bloody pits.

Under these circumstances, a truly excellent beast-fighter became extremely rare. Someone like Sun Fei, with the strength of a One-Star Warrior but lacking Battle Qi—a ‘savage bull’—was a rare treasure in the Silver Masked Man’s eyes. Handled properly, he could yield immense profits. It might even open doors to nobles of higher empires.

“Number One, after dawn, take Sixteen, Seventeen, and Eighteen down to the walls of Shampoo City to demand surrender. Tell their idiot King that if he opens the gates, the royal family and officials shall be spared. The commoners too, though enslaved… Otherwise, the day the city falls, we will drench it in blood. Three days of slaughter!”

The Silver Masked Man spoke coldly, his voice like frost.

As the words ended, a biting white chill emanated from his hand. Instantly, the jade cup and the wine inside froze into a clear, shimmering ice sculpture.

“Yes, Master. Understood!”

The Black Knight on the right front row, codenamed One, stepped forward and bowed.

“Hmm. Remember this: deliver my command to their fool of a King so all of Shampoo hears it.” The Silver Masked Man tossed the frozen cup aside, a meaningful smile curling his lips. He added this instruction deliberately.

“As you command!”

One, along with Sixteen, Seventeen, and Eighteen, bowed and acknowledged the order, then turned and left the tent.

“Two, Three, Four, Five, Six. Have your soldiers prepare secretly. The moment Shampoo City opens its gates in surrender, lead your troops in immediately. Spare no one except the woman named Angela and that ‘beast’.”

The Silver Masked Man continued issuing military orders.

This second order was the complete opposite of the surrender demand he had just announced.

The five Black Knights on both sides stepped forward and bowed, their eyes betraying shock they couldn’t hide. The Master had just ordered One to offer Shampoo a way out, promised them life, yet moments later decreed this merciless slaughter—an obvious deception.

“Time is short. Our plan requires Shampoo to fall fast. If the siege drags on, the Zenit Empire might notice. So, this is necessary…” Sensing his subordinates’ confusion, the usually autocratic Silver Masked Man gave a rare, patient explanation. He then turned to Lund, the Three-Star Swordsman. “Lund, prove the promise you made me earlier in tomorrow’s battle. Bring me the head of Shampoo’s Three-Star Swordsman yourself, laid before my mount!”

“As you wish, my Master!” Lund brimmed with confidence for this task.

“As for the rest of you, stay with me as reserves… Go and prepare. We move at sunrise!”

At the Silver Masked Man’s command, the Black Knights and Lund bowed and turned to leave the tent to make ready…

But just then—

“Wait!”

The mysterious hooded man, who had been silent the whole time, unexpectedly spoke up to stop them.

This Mage hid his face deep within his hood. He gave a slight, barely visible nod towards the Silver Masked Man. His voice was raspy, like a blunt knife slowly scraping stone—sharply unpleasant. “Your Highness… I just sensed something. A powerful Mage seems to be present within Shampoo. Your plan… might face interference.”

“A Mage?” The Silver Masked Man’s expression changed instantly. A Master Mage could unknowingly shift the balance of battle. He asked carefully, “Master… Can you gauge this Mage’s strength?”

“That Mage conceals their presence deeply… as if hiding from something. I only just detected them… Hmm… likely around Three-Star.”

“Three-Star?” The Silver Masked Man visibly relaxed. “A Three-Star Mage carries less threat. Still… I hope Master will step in at the right moment to eliminate this threat for your student.”

“Hmm.” The mysterious hooded man nodded. “I will act. Though only Three-Star, they can still cause great damage. Keep your army back when I do, to avoid… friendly fire.”

Hearing his Master agree, the Silver Masked Man relaxed further, offering a small smile. “No worries there, Master. As long as Shampoo’s main walls are unharmed, nothing else matters. Act freely.”

The hooded man nodded. A chilling aura emanated from him, and he fell silent.

…

A cold wind blew.

It bit into the bones.

Sun Fei shivered a little. He blinked his eyes open, disoriented, then jolted fully awake with alarm.

“Damn it! I was on night watch… cough… I fell asleep? Don’t tell me the enemy slipped up here?”

Just as the thought crossed his mind, a faint, delicate fragrance drifted into his nostrils.

Sun Fei paused. Turning his head, he was astonished to see the beautiful, chrysanthemum-like Angela had, at some point, sat down beside him. She was nestled against the cold stone wall, sound asleep.

The girl seemed to feel the chill even in her dreams.

She hugged her knees, curling her delicate body tightly. Dewdrops glistened like crystals on her ink-black hair ends. Her long lashes were soft and elegant. A faint, charming smile touched the corner of her lips, as if she were dreaming something sweet. Her fine, delicate white face under the starlight struck Sun Fei with a breathtaking, almost fairy-like beauty.

Sun Fei shifted slightly.

Only then did he discover a thick velvet blanket draped over him. He had no idea when it got there.

Clearly, Angela had brought it while checking on him during the night and covered him after he fell asleep.

Feeling the blanket’s lingering warmth seep into him, an unprecedented warmth blossomed in Sun Fei’s heart. Looking at this kind and beautiful girl, he felt like he was seeing his pure, innocent first love again. Simple and sweet… so wonderful, a feeling both deeply moving and just a little heartbreaking.

He stood up quietly and gently placed the blanket over Angela.

Oh, this silly girl. She came up to the tower to bring him a blanket, yet she herself wore only thin clothes.

Sun Fei’s heart squeezed instinctively with a sudden pang of protectiveness.

But seeing Angela sleeping so peacefully, he couldn’t bring himself to disturb her.

He stood silently beside her for a moment, watching her serene face. An unconscious, tender smile curved his lips. He carefully tucked the blanket around her shoulders, then turned and tiptoed away.

Stepping out of the stone Watchtower, everything was quiet. Sun Fei scanned around. Soldiers were still patrolling in the distance, and across the river, the enemy camp was completely still. He sighed in silent relief. Turning back to get one last look, he jolted in surprise.

Golden-haired little Gemma was also on the wall!

The little girl stood rigidly against the Watchtower’s stone wall, like a tiny sentry guarding the collapsed doorway. Exhaustion must have finally claimed her, for she stood there fast asleep, her head lolling to the side. The morning breeze carried damp river-cooled air, tousling her golden hair into disarray. Her thin clothes fluttered wildly in the wind.