editors: alamerysl & Pyromancer
A few minutes after the ‘G-spot’ incident, Victor finally realized the truth.
Student representative Victor took to the road and fled, sticking to the wall until he turned a corner, keeping his head lowered as he looked for a place where he could bury himself.
He finally fled home and was then surrounded by his roommates who forcibly snatched away the photograph that he had secretly taken of Tyron.
It was really a secret shot. Only the side of Tyron’s face was captured in the photo, showing him as he lowered his head slightly to look at the lower rack of the bookshelf, his gaze enigmatic as he concentrated.
That roommate rubbed his chin. “Oh? We only noticed now that there are no glasses in the way that his eye color is really rare. What kind of ancestry does he have?”
“He probably isn’t from the Alliance.” Victor sat next to him to look at the picture and continued, “The galaxies in the Alliance don’t have any golden eyed bloodlines. He’s either an immigrant, or there was a mutation in his genes or a disease…”
“If that’s the case, then Lord Four might also be an immigrant or mutation?” His roommate was thinking out loud.
Victor asked blankly, “Who is Lord Four?”
His roommate waved his hand and said, “You don’t even watch e-sports. You don’t need to know who Lord Four is. Come on, let’s continue gossiping about your male god.”
Not only was ‘Lord Four’ not from any of the Alliance’s lineages, his bloodline wasn’t even from their universe.
It had been mentioned before that Tyron Odin was of mixed ancestry and had inherited the bloodlines of both elves and incubi.
If one had to describe it, the probability that these two races would mix together was about the same as the probability that Mars would hit the moon. The reason for this was probably because elves and incubi mutually despised and hated each other.
Incubi and elves. The greatest common ground between the two races was that they were both extremely beautiful, and their beauty often broke through the limitations of reality.
The greatest difference between them was that the elves were extremely loyal and would choose only one partner in their lifetimes, while the incubi were sexually promiscuous, feeding themselves by seducing their victims and absorbing their vitality.
One race was full of pure white lotuses, while the other was full of cheap, bewitching foxes.
As one could imagine, even if a couple like this had a period of true love, the family that came about would ultimately still be an unhappy one. So if they managed to give birth to a mixed race offspring, the child would certainly not experience a happy childhood—which was precisely what happened to Tyron’s father.
Tyron’s father was the ‘one chance in ten thousand’ mixed-race offspring that was born. The sinister and cunning incubi paired up with the famous princess of the moon elves, and the resulting child inherited his father’s character. He built up a name for himself as a fickle character, wandering all around the world and leaving Tyron’s mother (a pitiful half-elf woman) to die from depression.
Tyron rebelled a little when he was young. He looked down on his father’s irresponsible behaviour, but he was also exasperated that his mother seemed stuck in the belief that they could only have one love in the world. If a person relied on love to live, the breadth of their life experiences would be too limited.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
From childhood, he felt that the white lotuses were pitiable, and the bewitching foxes were hateful.
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So, Tyron often wore hoods and masks.
Not only did it cover Pei Rong’s appearance, it was also a habit that prevented him from drawing attention.
The audience could only see his pair of golden eyes, which often looked lazy and calm outside of combat situations.
Tyron’s posture was also casual. He was currently standing on the arena stage, facing an opponent who had also made it out of the 16-8 competition and was now participating in the semi-finals—a ranger.
The host had just stepped down from the stage. Now that they were at the semi-finals, the commentators had been switched to a fixed man and woman.
At this time, the man turned on his mic and began to speak, “Hello to all our friends in the audience! I am Old Yi.”
The female commentator added, “I am Little Pi.”
Male commentator: “Welcome to the sixteen-to-eight semi-finals of the A League. This is the second battle of the semi-finals, featuring contestant number 419 against contestant ‘Flower Blower’.”
Female commentator: “Now that both players are standing on the arena, we can see that both sides are alert and ready to fight, let’s have the camera zoom a little closer… Wow.”
Following her exclamation, the two scenes shown on the big screen brought about a series of shrill screams from the audience.
Tyron’s eyes and temperament had always been the focus of their discussions on ‘Lord Four’, but even before that;
The ‘Flower Blower’ on the opposite side was also a very famously beautiful man with a head full of curly golden hair tied behind his head, a silver masquerade mask on his face, tight leather armor and clothing that outlined a lean figure.
Male commentator: “As expected, the two players really have a well-deserved reputation. They are both very popular players with very good looks.”
Female commentator: “Both of them have a great image and good temperament. They are both at least six feet tall and have long legs, and neither of them are willing to let others see their face…”
Male commentator: “We can’t evaluate their appearances for the time being, but both parties’ strength will soon be revealed.”
The countdown began. Before the competition began, the commentators’ responsibility was to continuously introduce both sides’ backgrounds.
While they were jokingly predicting both player’s probability of winning or losing, people in the audience were screaming and shouting one after another, and some women in the audience were practically hysterical.
This was because the action on the stage was much more interesting than the commentary.
The beautiful man opposite Tyron, mister ‘Flower Blower’, had just pulled his cloak around him and dashingly jumped down to the stage. When he raised his head again, he held a red rose between his teeth.
Audience: “… AAAHHHH!”
The countdown was at 10 seconds.
Tyron’s opponent was still adamantly putting on a show.
Flower Blower performed an elegant bow towards his opponent, and then drew out the short sword that hung on his waist, “My sword is made by Master Molotov, named Lyra.” After performing a sword flower, he placed it back into its scabbard and brought out the longbow from behind his back. “My bow comes from the water goblin court, named Ophiuchus. —I look forward to being in your care.”
Some fans in the audience immediately began to shout excitedly, “Ohhhhhh! So handsome! So beautiful!”
Tyron crossed his arms and spoke expressionlessly. “Oh.”
The audience immediately switched sides: “Ahhhh! Lord Four is so cool, ahhh!!!”
After spending a month in this world, Tyron became fully aware of the fact that ‘the audiences in this era were basically undisciplined and unruly’. He indifferently pulled out his short sword and dagger and said, “Song of Triumph, Deep Silence.”
Although he was only responding to his opponent, this was the first time he had shown his combat posture outside of battle, allowing the audience to finally get a glimpse of how he looked when waiting for combat.
He always held his short sword in his right hand and his dagger in his left.
Because his right hand was more dexterous, it could competently wield the short sword to pick, stab, slice, chop, and other such movements; while his left hand was more swift and powerful, better suited for backhand dagger stabbing. (Generally speaking, daggers were only used for stabbing.)
When he entered combat mode, his eyes suddenly changed and his gaze locked tightly onto his prey.
The countdown ended, and the game began.
The contestants were blocked off from all outside noise, and they immediately entered combat mode.
In the first second, the male commentator shouted, “They’ve clashed! There’s a fierce clash right from the start! Flower Blower has jumped backwards from where he was standing—he’s shooting from the air! He’s really got a talent for shooting in mid-air!”
As soon as they began to fight, the two of them exchanged routine moves: Tyron’s backhand assault damaged Flower Blower, but Flower Blower’s first arrow accomplished nothing.
Immediately after, Flower Blower flew back in the air, his cloak unfolded like wings, and he pulled his bow in a beautiful arc while still in mid-air.
At the same moment when his bowstring rang out, Tyron, whom he had locked on to, disappeared on the spot.
“Number 419 launched Stealth. This is the first time he has used the Stealth skill in the one-to-one arena! Is he waiting to make a surprise attack after Flower Blower lands on the ground? The hover time that Flower Blower can sustain in the air is… 4.7 seconds. He’s landed. Unexpectedly, he did not choose to maintain the higher ground! —419 also chose not to launch an attack at this time!”
Flower Blower dropped gently back onto the flat plain and closed his eyes, his face showing a carefully listening expression. The symbol for an eye flickered faintly on his forehead.
“Mind’s Eye Art! It’s the standard invisibility scanning skill for archer professions. Will Flower Blower be able to see through number 419’s stealth before he attacks?”
Other than the sound of a gentle breeze blowing, there was complete silence in the combat area.
Flower Blower had his bow in one hand and an arrow in the other as it gently rested against the bowstring.
Suddenly, the female commentator shouted, “It’s an attack from the air!”
Tyron’s figure unexpectedly flashed out in mid-air, and like a sharp fang, his dagger abruptly fell towards its prey.
Flower Blower turned quickly, and the longbow in his hands blocked the edge of the blade. With a flexible twist of his right hand, the arrow reversed and stabbed towards Tyron.
Tyron ducked, and once again disappeared from Flower Blower’s line of sight—
It was an incomparably fast tuck and spin, just like a well-practiced tango move. In a flash, he once again returned to Flower Blower’s side.
Once again, the cold light of the dagger gleamed next to Flower Blower’s neck.
In the next moment, Flower Blower’s longbow tapped against the ground as he used it as leverage to whip out a kick.
“Push back! 419 was pushed back about five yards by Flower Blower’s round kick! His surprise attack failed! The initiative is now back in Flower Blower’s hands.”
“Wait a minute!” The female commentator spoke up, “The surprise attack was successful!”
The close-up confrontation between the two flashed by in an instant. By the time the pair separated, Tyron had already disappeared into the virtual environment once again.
Flower Blower lowered his hand, and the audience could finally see that there was a long slash across his left hand that made it tremble uncontrollably.
Female commentator: “It happened in that moment when he spun around. Don’t forget that player 419 also has a short sword!”
Male commentator: “That series of actions just now was an absolutely wonderful collection of exquisite moves! Flower Blower has now fallen into a very disadvantageous situation. As an archer, will he be able to turn the tables after his left hand has been injured?”
Once again, the combat area fell into silence. Flower Blower stood still in the middle of the grassy plain.
Strictly speaking, this randomly selected battle map was more advantageous to archers, but when the opposing party was an assassin, there was no place for him to hide.
But Flower Blower suddenly discovered that even though he had turned on his stealth detection skill, he was still unable to find Tyron’s figure. Was he hiding in the shadow of the huge rock? Or crouched amongst some weeds? Or was he already in the bushes further away?