Eldritch Horror Theatre - Ch. 91: King of the White Tower (13)
"The match will start soon, Mr. Fu, we should head out—ah, your hand!"
The next evening, the Priestess who came to escort Fu Qian to the arena was once again frightened into covering her mouth and screaming.
Fu Qian followed her gaze and understood why she was so surprised.
In just one night, the aqua-blue marks had spread from his palm to his entire upper arm.
That peculiar smell had grown even stronger.
Not only that, but wherever the marks covered, it seemed as if countless tiny bugs were finely gnawing at his flesh and blood.
Fortunately, the level of erosion was not too deep for the time being.
It wouldn't be difficult to resolve this; all he had to do was isolate the erosion and shed a layer of skin.
For the current Fu Qian, this would be a piece of cake.
But he didn't want to do that.
The reason was simple—today was the day of the finals.
It would be his first attempt at taking down Bai Jinting.
This thing would come in handy very soon.
"Logically speaking, you didn't need to come pick me up in person, right?"
Fu Qian glanced at the Priestess.
"Today is the finals."
The Priestess managed a forced smile.
"If you can win the championship, I'll get an extra bonus too, so I always have to show some sincerity!"
"I see. I thought you had placed a bet on me."
"There are indeed bets going on, but your odds are the lowest... I bet on everyone else, just to leave a good omen for you."
"Not bad, learning risk hedging at such a young age. Your future is limitless."
...
Facts proved that Demigod Ibrahimovic truly abhorred Grafting.
Almost as soon as they entered the White Tower, Fu Qian could feel his thick disgust.
After revealing the marks on his right hand, the hostility surged even more fiercely.
Fu Qian, however, made no attempt to hide it, casually making his way to the preparation room to rest.
After two days of fierce battles, very few contestants remained. He only needed to defeat one more opponent to advance directly to the finals.
This time, there was no new shady manipulation; Fu Qian's number soon appeared on the screen above.
Standing on the newly renovated arena once again, Fu Qian couldn't help but sigh inwardly at how good it was to have money.
And the opponent across the ring made him pause in surprise for a second.
Pitch-black armor, a giant sword, a massive shield, and a horned helmet.
His opponent for the semi-finals was actually the Black Knight from the same preparation room!
It had to be said, this guy definitely had some skill to make it this far.
Not to mention his unusually tall and burly physique, just that heavy armor alone wasn't something an ordinary person could wear.
Fu Qian had watched one of his matches. He clearly had immensely rich combat experience and a steady, unhurried fighting style.
He swung a giant sword with ferocious power, ultimately flattening his opponent by ten centimeters.
If he had any weaknesses, it was probably that his realm was too low.
Judging from the intensity of his aura, he was at most at the peak of Tier 7. It was hard to imagine how he could wield that massive shield and giant sword like that.
That armor was probably no ordinary item.
Of course, his courage was also commendable.
Over the past two days, Fu Qian's fierce reputation had become well-known. Ordinary opponents would probably have despaired at the sight of him. It was already not easy for this guy to stand earnestly in the arena.
After the referee announced the start, the Black Knight silently raised his sword in a salute, then positioned his heavy, pitch-black shield in front of him.
This stance—was he wary of Fu Qian's lethality and planning to fight defensively and counterattack?
It seemed reasonable, but one shouldn't be too narrow-minded. Just because an opponent possesses great strength doesn't mean they should be immediately categorized as a pure-attribute fighter.
I've been leaning towards being a technique-oriented fighter, after all.
Facing this turtle-shell defense, Fu Qian directly closed the distance. After dodging an upward slash from the sword, he pressed a palm flat against the shield.
That's right, he just pressed it on.
Fu Qian had absolutely no intention of blasting the shield and the person behind it into smithereens. He simply pressed his hand gently against it.
...
The Black Knight clearly hadn't expected Fu Qian to do this, and couldn't help but freeze for a moment.
However, being an experienced warrior, he quickly snapped himself out of his daze.
His first reaction was to retract the shield and hack forward with his sword.
But it missed again—the size of the shield was truly exaggerated. Fu Qian was actually hiding behind the shield, moving forward along with it, creating a blind spot for attacks.
The shield had instead become his cover.
...
The Black Knight remained calm in the face of danger, pushing the shield outward again, only to be surprised to find that Fu Qian had disappeared.
The next moment, a surging, tremendous force came from behind him.
The Black Knight stumbled forward for nearly ten meters before stabilizing his footing, spitting a mist of blood onto his chest, dyeing the dark iron armor even more hideously red.
Using the shield as cover to slip behind him, Fu Qian had just delivered a kick to his back.
Clang!
Realizing that the shield was only working against him, the man was decisive, taking it off and throwing it aside.
Judging by the sound of it hitting the ground, its weight was quite substantial.
His freed left hand slowly rested on the broad hilt of his sword, releasing a murderous aura several times colder and sharper than before.
With the clanking sound of armor, the Black Knight held the giant sword with both hands, choosing to take the initiative and attack.
The door-sized giant sword chopped down viciously towards Fu Qian.
Now that's more like it!
Smashing a giant sword into someone's face is a man's romance.
Facing the Black Knight's ultimate form, Fu Qian also raised his right hand.
The next moment, countless tentacles burst out from his right arm, tangling together into a massive, alien arm that slammed ruthlessly into the Black Knight.
In almost an instant, the latter flew backward like a baseball, man and sword together, plunging headfirst into the edge of the arena.
His helmet rolled away, revealing an upper half of his face that looked like a charred corpse.
This is!
Amidst the roaring of the audience, Demigod Ibrahimovic stood right up, his face ashen.
At this moment, Fu Qian, having defeated his opponent and officially stepped into the finals, didn't stick around to enjoy the crowd's cheers but walked straight off the stage.
"Congrat...ulations!"
When Fu Qian returned to the preparation room, the Priestess came up to celebrate, her voice trembling.
Frightened by the brutal scene?
That shouldn't be it. When he killed the crocodile monster yesterday, it was much bloodier than this.
Fu Qian noticed that she had been staring at his right hand.
I see.
For many female comrades, that final blow was a bit R-rated.
But it also depends on the person. Just now in the stands, there were clearly female voices screaming, looking like they were going to pass out from excitement.
"Don't be nervous, it'll just take a second!"
Fu Qian patted the Priestess's shoulder comfortingly, and casually delivered a chop to her neck.
How could it be so fast?
By this time, the second match had already begun, but Ibrahimovic up in the stands was frowning deeply.
Fu Qian's performance just now was completely baffling.
He thought they had only made preliminary contact last night, he didn't expect...
This was clearly a situation of initial fusion!
Could they have had a tacit agreement early on?
These reckless bastards, not considering the consequences at all!
Fortunately, the degree of fusion didn't seem too high yet. He definitely needed to keep a close eye on it later.
As he thought this, Ibrahimovic glanced towards Fu Qian's preparation room.
The next moment, his pupils abruptly contracted.
In the break room, Fu Qian was nowhere to be seen.
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