Edward II, having enjoyed the cheers of the crowd, went to a nearby tent to change his clothes; afterward, he returned to the stand and announced the beginning of the tournant.
In another tent, Essos, with the aid of his Squire Knight, was tending to the bruises on his body.
His son, Atis, ca in from outside and glanced at the golden armor beside him, now deford from being thrown.
"Really, that fool let you wear this armor made of gold to fight him?"
"It looks better visually."
"And that bastard also chopped off the legs of Red King! That was your favorite warhorse, and you spent a full thousand gold lions to buy it."
"It’s just a beast," the Sword Saint said calmly, "If it’s gone, I can buy another."
"But he still forced you to lose to him!" Atis said angrily.
"You are the Sword Saint, the top expert of the Gedeon family, no one in Lion Heart Castle is your match, even in this frail golden armor, that fat pig had no chance of beating you.
"You purposely fell from your horse to be defeated by him! I just don’t understand why you would do such a thing, you always taught us to place family honor above all..."
Essos neither agreed nor disagreed, rely asking, "Besides you, did anyone else notice that I held back?"
"I don’t know. Even if there were, it couldn’t have been many. You played it too realistically. Looking at that fool, he probably also believed it to be true, truly thinking he defeated you..."
As Atis was speaking, he saw his father raise his hand and slap it across his cheek.
Essos’s move was not to scare him, but a real slap; Atis received a firm slap, heard a crisp smack, and then saw stars.
"If I hear you calling His Majesty ’that fool’ or ’fat pig’ again, it won’t be just a slap next ti."
After Essos spoke, seeing that his son was still dazed, he added, "Did you hear ?"
Atis, covering his cheek, nodded.
"Also, if soone asks you if I intentionally let His Majesty win today, tell them there is absolutely no such thing."
Atis nodded again, but after nodding, he couldn’t help but say.
"Is it really necessary to go to such lengths? Look at what he’s done over the years, he’s already lost respect among the nobles, with our family’s strength, you really don’t need to keep supporting him like this."
"I don’t care what others think, people of the Gedeon family must never show disrespect to His Majesty," Essos said, pausing before he added, "Especially at tis like this."
"At tis like this, when, during the tournant?" Atis was sowhat perplexed.
However, Essos did not elaborate further, simply saying, "If you want to succeed and beco the next Family Head of the Gedeon family, you still have a lot to learn.
"Don’t think the twelve great families are sothing extraordinary. The Weiting family is even more powerful than us; look where they are now. If you want to play the ga of power, first you must understand to respect the rules of the ga.
"And there is only one rule in this ga: whoever sits on the Skeleton Throne is the only king, and everyone else must obey him."
Hearing this, Atis suddenly had an epiphany and boldly asked another question, "What if that person is no longer there?"
Essos gave him a deep look and did not answer his question, rely saying.
"Stop hanging out with those fox friends of yours. From tomorrow, you will stay by my side and help with my work. Rember, watch more and talk less, and keep your mouth shut."
No one but the people involved knew about the minor incident in the tent.
At this mont, everyone’s attention was drawn to the competition taking place in the arena.
As Edward II personally entered the arena and defeated Essos, known as the Sword Saint, the atmosphere of the tournant reached its climax right from the start.
Once the referee announced the rules, the competitors were eager to rush into the field.
Then they began to fight each other relentlessly.
However, compared to the lively atmosphere, the process of the competition seed rather dull.
Today’s event was for the commoner class, and the participants were of mixed quality, with most possessing average abilities, and their weapons and protective gear varied hugely.
Because armor was difficult to make, even the lowest quality steel armor was astronomically priced for the average person, who could never afford it in a lifeti.
Even most knights inherited their armor from their ancestors, treasuring it like a family heirloom.
Thus, in the commoners’ competition, it was rare to see anyone fully armored; many couldn’t even afford leather or padded armor and had to rely on a small wooden shield for protection.
The fight often beca a blind slashing, the only highlight being the occasional flying limbs and the spurting of blood plasma. Herbalists and priests waited on the side of the arena, ready to save lives at any mont.
But not everyone could be saved, or rather, those who were seriously injured were mostly beyond help.
Ireya saw an unlucky soul who had taken an axe to the head, splitting his skull open.
Instead of dying instantly, he painfully crawled on the ground with the axe still in his head, wailing and begging for help from the surrounding spectators.
He crawled for about fifteen minutes and still hadn’t died, so a royal herbalist had to step in and use a small knife to help him out of his misery.
Edward II, however, didn’t find the chaotic competition boring at all; he watched from his seat, thrilled, occasionally punching the air in excitent.
Shouting things like, "Quick, stab him in the back, yes, just like that, don’t dawdle, finish that scoundrel off!" or asking Ireya beside the Elf Queen, "Who do you think will win this group?"
The Lady occasionally responded, but feeling it was about ti, she thought about excusing herself to find rlin and Ge Lipeng.
Just then, another wave of cheers erupted from below, this ti louder than before.
Ireya instinctively looked over and saw a figure as massive as a small mountain, towering almost one and a half heads above the other competitors, with a burly build.
Standing out like a crane among chickens, it was hard not to notice him, and what was most surprising was that he carried no weapons in his hands.
Yet, with just a pair of palms, he had just crushed the skull of an opponent, spraying brain matter all over himself.
Then he extended his tongue and licked his palms, as if savoring a delicacy.
Then, with a backhand, he grabbed another who tried to sneak up behind him and broke the man’s neck with a snap.
Seeing that the man was already breathless, he didn’t stop; instead, he continued to pull with force and tore the man’s head from his neck!
Ireya was stunned by this sight.
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