“Second blood!”
The referee’s voice trembled as he spoke.
Ailiya slowly sheathed her sword, a triumphant smile spreading across her face.
“I appreciate the courtesy.”
She turned to face the entire audience, raising the Dawn Holy Sword high in her hand.
“Is there anyone else?!”
Her voice echoed throughout the arena, filled with unmatched confidence and arrogance.
Silence blanketed the stands at first, then erupted into thunderous applause and cheers.
“Hero!”
“Hero!”
“Hero!”
“Ailiya!”
“Ailiya!”
“Ailiya!”
Everyone was completely awed by the strength Ailiya had displayed.
In a corner of the arena, Red Lotus Empress Claudine watched quietly, a meaningful smile curling at the corner of her lips.
“What an interesting little one.”
Her eyes sparkled with admiration.
The night of the royal capital was lit by thousands of magical lamps, as bright as day.
On the top-floor terrace of the Ten Thousand Swords Pavilion, the highest place of honor in the entire Red Lotus Kingdom, stood Ailiya Lieyan.
She was in the center of the terrace, wearing a silver-white light armor stained with the dust and blood from the arena that day.
She hadn’t changed out of her bloodstained battle robe—she considered it a badge of honor.
“No one of the same rank can defeat me.”
Ailiya repeated the archbishop’s praise from earlier in a low voice, a wild smile tugging at her lips.
She casually slid her Dawn Holy Sword into its scabbard, producing a crisp ring.
At that moment, the large door at the end of the terrace slowly opened.
Red Lotus Empress, Claudine, walked in step by step.
She wore a deep crimson palace gown, her golden hair casually pinned up, and her violet eyes carried an innate laziness and authority.
She stopped before Ailiya, her gaze lingering on that youthful, defiant face for a long moment.
“You are Ailiya Lieyan.”
“I am, Your Majesty.”
Ailiya knelt on one knee in a perfect knight’s salute, yet held her head high.
“Rise.”
Claudine lifted her hand slightly, and a maid immediately stepped forward with a black silk box.
Claudine opened the box, revealing a dark red cloak lying quietly inside.
The cloak was woven from the fur of a Fire Fox King from the Extreme North Land, embroidered with golden threads depicting the royal crest of the Red Lotus Kingdom.
“This is a cloak I used when I was young.”
Claudine picked up the cloak and personally walked behind Ailiya, fastening it over her silver armor.
In that instant, a warm, heavy aura enveloped Ailiya entirely.
“I have infused a sliver of the royal blessing into this cloak.”
Claudine’s fingers lightly brushed Ailiya’s shoulder, her voice gentle.
“This cloak can block one fatal attack for you.”
Feeling the weight on her shoulder, Ailiya was about to speak her thanks.
“Lord Hero!”
“Congratulations!”
“Flame Sword Saint!”
“You are the hope of humanity!”
Below the terrace, in the guest seats, nobles of the kingdom raised their glasses, smiles plastered on their faces as they crowded forward.
Dukes and marquises, usually so high and mighty, vied to express their respect to Ailiya.
“Lord Hero, the sword strike you delivered today was nothing short of divine skill!”
“Exactly! Those geniuses from the orcs and elves—they were like children playing house before you, utterly worthless!”
Facing this tidal wave of flattery, Ailiya’s expression remained cold; she didn’t even deign to look at them.
She merely took a sip of wine from her cup, her eyes radiating an aloofness that kept people at a distance.
She was tired of these hollow compliments.
Until someone in the crowd deliberately lowered their voice, speaking with a mix of awe and fear:
“But then again…”
“Next, Lord Hero will face a true challenge.”
“That Demon King who’s been lurking in the north…”