Only three battles remain before the champion is revealed.
One of them is still a losers' match, and both sides might be too battered by their previous wins, so the outco will be decided quickly.
At the end of the Boundary Sea, lies the Ultimate Ancient Land.
In Qili's dressing room lounge.
Saleret... lost.
Mika wasn't surprised; even if he was entrusted with an important task by Doringger, this is the Continent Martial Arts Competition.
Twenty minutes left?
Mika looked at the ti on the pocket watch, inching closer to the deadline.
Qili had already removed all the accessories that hindered her movent; wearing so many items was quite heavy.
She was here not only to complete a eting arranged by the Pope but also to change outfits; running around in a costu looked silly.
Instantly, Qili didn't hold back, her smooth white fingers hooked the strap and lightly flicked it, and the black-gold classical backless dress fell like a collapsing Holy Hall.
In an instant.
All the worldly troubles swept away.
Leaving only a purple lace undergarnt tightly wrapping around her most strategic zones, the rest of her figure laid bare, and most importantly, she was still wearing high heels with a black-gold sheen.
The beauty, once tad by silk,
a riot of beauty,
the power of gods flowing over every curve,
all the locked-up toxic fragrances rushed out like unchecked ecstasy,
her lips were wounds, her gaze a fla, even her silence beca a lonely burn, enticing one to touch the unspoken tempest within her hair.
The body is magnificent; at its edges, all thoughts beco gentle.
Those towering pillars and the forbidden, captivating places aren't desires; they are the tremors of existence itself.
All clarity becos a captive, lost gaze, turned into the texture on her flawless skin,
"It's too hot here, seems like there are so sun marks."
Qili spun around in front of the full-length mirror, examining herself.
"..."
Mika had a tactical poker face, what the hell are you doing? You're making what I said earlier seem dumb.
But indeed, he was soone without ambition; even getting such a classified CG, it was worth dying for.
Mika knew she was only changing; in the adult world, a grown woman wouldn't care about being seen like this, and he didn't think much of it.
However...
Qili's movents were slow as if concocting poison, looking through the line of clothes on the rack, pacing back and forth, her high heels clacking, clad only in that purple lace undergarnt.
"What on earth are you doing?"
Mika was speechless; don't ss up my transcendent ending.
The known captain is a Cosmic Person, he has a word for it; later when he dies outside, sohow he becos an Immortal Corpse.
"Changing back to casual clothes, is there a need to stare so intently? Haven't you seen a woman before?"
Qili was puzzled.
Well-intentioned, taken the wrong way, but he had a point; later when things fall apart, the Imperial City is vast, escape would be impossible. If she really took him along, she'd be implicated as an accomplice, and that'd be troubleso.
She had spent years building her world; everything she had now wouldn't be risked for the cri he committed, that'd be the level of getting locked in the Northern Prison, maybe even worse.
Qili's view of Mika had indeed changed; among all the fools, he was the most interesting, but only that far, a touch of heroic end-of-the-road masculinity, though just at the level of a lustful ghost of a hero.
Saying sothing suave to get with her was impossible.
The outside fight scene grew increasingly loud; Gedre and Julius were already in place.
Mika just shook his head, saying nothing.
"To be lecherous to such an extent, risking your life, it's extraordinary."
Qili couldn't help but retort.
"Many have said the sa."
Mika was unshaken; it was the truth.
"I actually know a lot of adventurers do so... strange things with my posters and pamphlets, have you done such a thing?"
Anyway, uncertain about life and death, Qili didn't mind discussing sothing sensitive.
People's thoughts are projections of societal will, not transferred by one's own will; as long as you live in the world, it's just a matter of how much is projected.
Qili didn't quite fancy Mika, barely in the realm of appreciation.
But...
This guy reached such a point, being so suave, and acting as if he'd reached the end, burned out.
It made things difficult for her; it seed unfeasible not to express so sentint.
Not tied to emotions, purely a matter of common sense.
"Aren't you talking nonsense, a pirate needs to sail on the sea, if the route is long, with no stopping points, twenty days stuck on a ship is possible."
Mika found it amusing, discussing the thought process of conduit usage with a dream lover.
"How many tis?"
Qili asked seriously.
"I can only say... countless tis, if I must specify a number, maybe starting at three hundred. But technically, it can't be counted that way; at sea, more often I'm reading novels, but in the end, I still think of giving it to you, looking at the poster quickly."
Mika laughed lightly, amused by himself, with no image concerns.
As he said, everything was at stake, and this was his most true self; life and death were determined, success or failure in fate's hands.
"No need for such detail, what does 'looking at it quickly' even an... that's... that's disgust to the extre."
Qili's expression was as if she'd swallowed a fly; this was indeed a bit too much.
"Aren't you the one who asked? You're completely different from the you in my fantasies."
Mika was speechless; he didn't expect Qili to be waiting like a nun, chaste when he arrived, but raising such a topic then looking contemptuous, this "surreal mature woman" was far from the image in his mind.
"Then what should I be like in your imagination?"
Qili continued choosing clothes, her figure even carried an aggressive allure.
"I t you and first said, Qili, I finally found you, I love you.
You would say, it is you, Mika, have you co to rescue ? Actually, I'm the Elf Princess of the Ancient Divine Continent; only the True Destiny Prince's kiss can restore my Strength."
I suddenly realized everything..."
"That's enough, I get it, it seems you are pure through and through, one of 'them'."
Qili particularly emphasized "them."
Mika understood, clearly talking about the low-level adventurer crowd.
Qili sighed.
"I roughly understand the kind of person you are, Mika, so that's your na.
We ca to an agreent earlier.
There are no Miracles in this world.
But what you said... did influence ; you indeed gave your all in creating so-called miracles, the most astonishing among all fools.
Although I'm not promiscuous, this matter is far from significant enough to be called a miracle; that's laughable.
For you, you gave your all, your heart... I sensed it. It's certainly more sincere than anyone else in the world, sincere to the point of making feel crazy and terrified, yet also makes one regretful, but I truly don't need these things.
Aren't you good at dealing with won using capital?
If you can give what I truly want.
Do whatever you want."
Qili casually chose a set of convenient clothes, her expression sowhat lancholic, her eyes lowered, yet... he had no ti left, just a person on the brink of death.
"What do you want?"
Mika was intrigued; he still managed to reach the true ending in the most unexpected way.
"People...
all believe that only what withstands the test, the Sea of Hate and Sky of Love, is love.
Previously, I didn't believe such people existed.
You withstood the test, Mika.
But we both know, this was for yourself, not for .
I'm no different from any other woman in the world.
I want you to do for what you did in the Continent Martial Arts Competition, sothing just as crazy, what I want.
To say sothing possibly completely irresponsible...
I would fall madly in love with you, do whatever you want, whether three hundred tis or a thousand, making every man in the world mad with envy."
Qili, too, had a touch of madness.
Mika paused for a while.
That's more like it, Qili, you only have the appearance of a final BOSS, causing despair because you lack the aura and oppression a final BOSS should have.
Not an ordinary sharp-tongued woman.
But the pinnacle of all Minstrels, socialites.
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