Chapter 323: The Genius of the Silva Family

The battle of the final four commenced, and first to take the field were Karada and Franz Silva.

Ronin returned to his seat and asked the Knight of Rees beside him, "This Franz couldn't happen to be a descendant of Master Magician Bellora Silva from the Amethyst Earldom, could he?"

Rees nodded, "Your guess is correct; he is indeed the great-great-grandson of the venerable Master Magician Bellora."

When he mentioned the name, a look of profound respect flickered in his eyes.

"Do not be fooled by the fact that Franz is only twenty-three or twenty-four; he is not only a Bronze Knight, but also the youngest Grand Mage in the Magic Academy."

Ronin's gaze could not help but fixate on Franz, surprised to find that the man was a dual cultivator of magic and martial arts, with both professions having reached the fourth rank.

He could not help but praise, "As expected of a Master Magician's descendant. I wonder if he can win this battle."

"It will be somewhat difficult."

Rees, however, said, "Karada's speed is remarkably fast."

While the two were conversing, the host had already announced the start of the match, and as the horn blew, the entire arena erupted into roaring cheers.

"I have long heard of a genius mage at the Magic Academy, and today I finally see your true face."

Karada did not attack immediately; instead, he offered Franz a knightly salute, "It is my honor to meet you on the field today!"

"I have also long heard your name, Sir Knight."

Franz's voice was elegant, "I need to cast a spell now; you may attack me."

Even as he spoke, he had already begun to trace the magical circuits.

"It is the third-rank wind-attribute magic, 'Haste'."

Ronin recognized at a glance what magic the opponent was using; faced with the ultra-fast Karada, using this spell was indeed highly appropriate.

Yet to Ronin's surprise, Karada did not take the initiative to strike while the opponent was condensing his magic; on the contrary, he waited quietly until Franz finished casting.

If this were a battlefield, a warrior would absolutely never wait for a mage to channel, and would certainly interrupt the casting before the incantation was complete.

However, this was not a battlefield of life and death, nor was the opponent an enemy, but rather a scion of a great noble house.

For an ordinary man of commoner origin like Karada, being able to participate in this grand tournament was already a rare privilege; in this arena, while displaying his own strength, he also needed to show a degree of grace, and even if he won the match, he had to avoid offending a noble if possible.

Knowing when to stop and showing appropriate forbearance were essential.

Soon Franz finished his casting, and under the blessing of the Haste spell, his speed received no small boost.

"Thank you for your forbearance, Knight Karada."

Franz said, "Now, we may begin."

As the words fell, the two moved almost simultaneously.

In the previous matches, Ronin had carefully observed Karada's fighting style; he rarely used offensive combat techniques, employing acceleration-type techniques most of all.

One could see Karada's entire body covered in a purple lightning combat aura.

Rees had mentioned before that this was a third-rank lightning-attribute combat technique, "Lightning Swiftness," which could stimulate a knight's physical vitality and substantially increase their speed.

True to its name, in the blink of an eye, the man crossed a distance of over a dozen meters, moving so fast that ordinary eyes could barely keep up.

Yet Franz, with his magical enhancement, was not much slower in terms of speed.

With a resounding clash of iron, the two collided in the center of the arena.

Under the amplification of speed, the impact of force became exceedingly heavy; compounded by the shockwave of the combat aura, Franz's expression changed abruptly, and his entire form went stumbling backward at high speed.

Looking at Karada by contrast, he had merely retreated three steps.

"Watch out!"

This time he did not wait, but instead seized the momentum to charge forward.

Franz sought to use the momentum to widen the distance between them, thereby buying himself time to cast a second spell.

However, this time Karada pressed on aggressively, leaving him with absolutely no time to cast; in desperation, he could only raise his sword to meet the enemy.

Seeing this, Ronin knew that Karada was bound to win.

Though Franz came from a distinguished family and possessed talent in both combat aura and magic—even managing to match his opponent's speed through sorcery—his strength could not keep pace, creating too great a disparity with Karada, making it utterly impossible for him to contend in close-quarters combat.

If his speed could surpass Karada's, he might have been able to pull away and gain the time needed to unleash his magic.

For instance, the fourth-rank magic "Tentacles of Wind," once deployed, might have allowed him to win the match by controlling his opponent.

But he lacked the time, and so his defeat was sealed.

This was precisely the disadvantage of a mage; on the battlefield, if a knight managed to close the distance, it became extremely perilous.

Therefore, under normal circumstances, mages were always protected by knights and would not easily allow an enemy to get close.

Very quickly, it was a matter of a mere two or three exchanges; after a clash, Karada knocked his opponent to the ground, his longsword coming to a halt just above the man's neck.

If it were a battle to the death, a single downward stroke would have claimed the opponent's life.

"I concede."

Franz said helplessly, before letting out a smile, "You truly are the youngest and strongest knight of Oxhorn Bay!"

Karada sheathed his longsword and pulled the man up, "If you were of my age, I likely would not be your match."

Given two more years, it was indeed possible for Franz to win.

The humility of the two men drew high praise from the host, and the entire venue erupted in fervent cheers.

Franz bowed elegantly to the audience and walked down from the arena alongside Karada.

"It is your turn to take the field."

Rees said, "Do not go losing to a female knight."

Ronin laughed heartily, left his seat, and walked toward the arena.

From the opposite direction, a knight clad in silver armor with a helmet concealing their face stepped slowly onto the field.

With Missy's entry, the entire arena rang with the most enthusiastic cheers and applause yet.

Firstly, it was because Knight Missy was the sole female knight in this round; secondly, as a member of the Gryphon Knights, Missy already commanded considerable renown within Golden Feather City.

Listening to the tide-like cheers, Ronin could not help but marvel inwardly; no matter which world it was, a powerful woman would always be pursued and admired wherever she went.

Karada's gaze followed that figure closely.

Hearing the waves of acclamation, he felt the gap between them was simply too vast, and the pressure in his heart grew immense.

"Respected Lady Missy, I did not expect that you and I would have a battle." Ronin greeted her humbly.

Back when he faced this female knight who arrived on a gryphon at Black Mountain Castle, he had felt a certain pressure, but now he felt relatively at ease.

From beneath the cold helmet came the female knight's voice, "I too did not expect such an opportunity, noble Earl of North Wulin."

On the grandstand, Blanche watched the two of them with some nervousness.

One was her close friend and confidante, the other was her lover; she could only cheer for both.

Yet if one listened closely, she seemed to call out Ronin's name a bit more often.

After exchanging a few brief words, the two had already assumed their offensive stances.

To show respect for Missy, as well as for Blanche's friend, Ronin did not seek a swift victory, but instead exchanged a few opening moves with her first.

As a member of the Griffin Knights, Misi’s foundational skills were excellent.

But before Ronin, her situation was no different from Franz’s— the gap in strength was far too great.

“Fighting Misi for so long, is Ronin really not as strong as the rumors say?”

“Ten against one? That’s an exaggeration.”

Some observers, watching the back-and-forth exchange, leaned toward Misi’s side.

Yet others saw clearly: Ronin had clearly not yet unleashed his full power, and even so, Misi remained constantly outmaneuvered.

Finally, after a clash of blades, Misi stepped back several paces and did not press forward again.

“I’ve lost.”

She surrendered cleanly: “You’re stronger than I imagined.”

Misi believed her swordsmanship was no poor thing, yet before Ronin, she realized his technique was masterfully precise in both defense and offense, leaving her with no opening to exploit.

As for strength and martial prowess, after several direct clashes, they yielded no advantage.

She found no glaring weakness in Ronin—on the contrary, if he truly unleashed his full might, she would fall swiftly.

So she chose to surrender willingly.

Ronin smiled in praise: “So far, you are the strongest opponent I’ve faced today.”

“May you win your next match.”

Misi bowed with unshaken grace, then descended from the arena.

Her gaze, deliberate yet casual, flickered toward the spectator seats on the left—where Karada gave a slight nod.

Clearly, the two knew each other. (End of Chapter)