Count Caspar didn't know how heavy the gate was, but he knew that when it was originally installed, just raising it up required over a hundred people using various tools, exhausting their strength.
Lifting it single-handedly... Was this human strength?
*At this moment, his cheek twitched violently, and his heart sank to the bottom of the pit, even the wine glass in his hand had fallen without him noticing.*
The entire square was silent as Gray walked forward step by step, leaving deep footprints with each step. The gate wobbled, seemingly about to fall at any moment. The residents retreated in terror, voluntarily making way for him.
The Eightfold Giant Force Technique, a third-tier magic of master level. In fact, Gray could add another fold to reach ninefold. In that case, the gate would certainly no longer wobble, but it might also crush his bones and armor to powder if he wasn't careful.
After all, Lich's supportive magic usually wasn't meant to be cast on oneself.
Crushing the fence that stood in his way, Gray finally reached the center of the grounds, heavily putting the gate down. Under the terrified gazes of all, he planted it like a tombstone.
Everyone watched in silence, watching Gray move left and right until he was satisfied, watching him wrap thick iron chains around himself, then climb up bit by bit. Watching him climb to the top of the "tombstone," standing there.
The silver moon quietly peeked out from behind the clouds, its light spilling down, illuminating Gray's back, embedding his shadow onto the ground while enclosing his opponent completely.
*At this moment, his opponent's facial expression was beyond describable.*
"Can we begin?" Gray looked at the officiant.
The officiant was startled and quickly said, "Y-yes, you can start!"
Before the officiant could finish speaking, Gray's opponent had already thrown his weapon to the ground with a "clang."
"I surrender."
Instantly, the square erupted in thunderous cheers. Everyone was clapping, everyone was shouting.
*Gray clearly had done nothing, yet he was unmistakably the winner tonight. No one doubted this, not even Count Caspar. It was as if everything had been rehearsed, and at the climax of the script, the main character finally appeared, pushing the atmosphere to its peak.*
*What else could be done besides surrender? No one present believed they could survive even a glancing blow from someone who could single-handedly lift a massive iron gate.*
As Count Caspar's knights exited, a new opponent was pushed forward, but the newcomer also hesitated little before throwing down their weapon. Throughout, Count Caspar didn't even have the courage to question; he simply sat in his seat, eyes wide, quietly watching, his hands trembling slightly, the wrinkles on his face twisted into a knot.
"No! I don't want to fight him!"
"No way anyone can beat him!"
"Are you kidding me...?"
Count Caspar's remaining knights shirked responsibility amongst themselves.
The audience's calls rose and fell, the young girls who had cheered themselves hoarse and clapped until their hands were red for the newly appeared knight, not even knowing his name or what he looked like. His existence, just like his shadow on the sandy ground now, was shrouded in mystery.
"Who is this man? Where did he come from? What's his name?" The gossip merchants asked around but got nowhere. This had clearly entered their blind spot.
Yilin was completely frozen.
Huoersi was completely frozen.
Abi Robbs was also completely frozen.
Mike struggled to sit up from the temporary haystack prepared for him, looking terrified.
Wrapped in bandages, Pas whistled: "Yo, looks like we've picked up a War God."
"Isn't this the fool who came to join us today?" The two guards, one tall and one short, murmured in the crowd, having stood sentinel earlier in the day.
"Coward! Coward! Coward! Coward!"
No more knights of Count Caspar entered the arena, and the audience began to grow restless.
"Think of something!" Count Caspar turned around and roared at the steward.
The steward stumbled down the stage, discussed for a long time, and then ran back to Count Caspar saying, "No knight is willing to fight. They prefer abandoning their knight titles rather than engaging. Unless... horse combat. There's still some chance with horse combat."
"Horse combat?"
"Yes, horse combat."
The steward looked at Count Caspar wide-eyed, sweat pouring down.
*Supporting himself on the armrest, he slowly stood up and then loudly announced* "This knight, your strength has already left us in awe. As the organizer of this tournament, I, Count Caspar, eagerly look forward to seeing your horsemanship, to know whether your horsemanship is as awe-inspiring and admirable as your strength."
"Horse combat?" Yilin suddenly reacted, quickly standing up and walking to the front of the stage, loudly countering, "Count Caspar, the rules we agreed upon seem to stipulate that the winner decides between horse combat or foot combat, right?"
"Yes, but if you don't agree to horse combat, my people won't enter the fight. Without anyone joining the fight, this tournament will go on forever and never have a winner."