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墨書 Inktalez
The entire venue fell silent after Elena's words.
The most poisonous of hearts, they had now experienced firsthand what true malice and cunning meant. By speaking as she did, Elena effectively pushed Habea III into a dilemma, akin to a palace coup.
If Habea III was determined to kill, it would mean wagering the entire Crook Duchy on a gamble that was bound to end in loss.
Although the Crook Duchy was under Habea III's rule, it did not mean that all the interests of the nation belonged solely to her.
If Habea III were to lose the interests of the entire nation due to personal grudges, even if she was the de facto ruler of the Crook Duchy, she would face endless condemnation and opposition from everyone.
Even the most powerful and esteemed Guardian Martial Saint of the Crook Duchy would be enraged by this, considering the welfare of the people and the nation's interests, potentially stripping Habea III of her ruling position.
After all, a duchy is different from a kingdom or empire; although a Duke holds supreme status, they are still subject to oversight by the Guardian Martial Saint. In Fran Continent, strength is revered, and Guardian Martial Saints are typically individuals of exceptional power who pursue strength above all else, only appearing in times of crisis for the duchy.
Despite Habea III having reached a Quasi-Advanced level of strength, in the eyes of a Guardian Martial Saint who has been at High-Level for many years, she was merely an inexperienced child, easily extinguishable with a single hand.
"Tsk tsk... Now I understand why some people say it's better to offend anyone than to offend women." Looking at Habea III's ever-changing face like that of a chameleon, Bu Xin felt relieved as he took out a bottle containing Snow Sun Pills from his pocket and tossed two into his mouth, chewing them with delight.
"Killing my son is not something that can be settled with just your words. This is not merely a personal grudge; it concerns the status and prestige of my Crook Duchy in the eyes of neighboring countries. If a member of the Royal Family is killed before my eyes and I remain indifferent, what prestige does my Crook Duchy have left?"
Habea III's chest heaved like a constantly moving bellows; her tone was low and her gaze icy cold, yet she remained unwilling to relent.
Sean Sterling snorted coldly, his white pupils radiating a chilling cold light, clearly growing impatient.
At that moment, Ankiro, who had been silently observing until now, suddenly spoke up: "Since Your Majesty has made up your mind to kill... then please act now. My Holy Light Academy will not intervene in this matter. However, after this incident, the Qualification Challenge will be canceled. In the future, your Crook Duchy will be permanently blacklisted by my Holy Light Academy. The decision is entirely up to you."
As soon as these words were spoken, the entire venue erupted in commotion, and many leaders of the Major Forces exchanged glances, their hearts tense like a tightly drawn bowstring.
At this moment, every move of Habea III captivated everyone's attention. The choice between killing or sparing represented not only the future direction of the Crook Duchy but also the conflicts of interest among the Major Forces.
No one wished to sever ties with a top Major Force like the Holy Light Academy, nor did they want to be placed on its blacklist from that day forward. However, the decision lay solely in Habea III's hands, leaving everyone feeling anxious.
At that moment, from Arena Six, the voice of Fourth Prince Claire rang out, sounding somewhat urgent: "Father... this matter cannot..."
"Shut up!" Before Claire could finish his sentence, Habea III interrupted him angrily.
A father knows his son best; Habea III was well aware of his son's thoughts.
The bond among the Royal Family brothers was weak. Although they appeared to laugh together on the surface, behind closed doors, they plotted against each other with increasing ruthlessness. For Claire, Clarence's death was inconsequential; he would not feel sorrow but rather joy.
After all, Clarence's qualifications in martial arts surpassed his own, and he enjoyed more abundant training resources. With Clarence dead, Claire would gain access to even more resources for cultivation. If he could secure a spot at the Holy Light Academy, it would undoubtedly solidify his position and increase his chances of inheriting the Duke title of Crook Duchy and reaching a high-level status.
However, all these beautiful fantasies depended on Habea III not killing Bu and on Crook Duchy not severing ties with Holy Light Academy. Therefore, when Anqi Luona seemingly encouraged such reckless words, Claire felt a surge of panic and hurriedly sought to persuade his father.
"This matter cannot be dropped. Many years ago, my eldest son was killed, and I was powerless to avenge him; I have always regarded it as a great shame in my life. Now another son has been killed before me by the murderer standing right here. No matter what... even if I must abandon this Duke title, I will seek revenge.
I will strike once; after that, life or death is irrelevant.
If this child is fortunate enough to survive, then that is his fate. My vengeance for my lost sons can come to an end, providing a satisfactory answer to the countless citizens of Crook Duchy.
This strike will erase all grievances; do you dare to accept it?" Under the gaze of thousands, Habea III's expression darkened as he looked at Bu with a chilling intent in his heart.
The power of Quasi-Advanced is such that perhaps only a strong individual at Intermediate Level 5 could withstand it while heavily injured, but with Bu's mere Intermediate Level strength, he would be instantly killed without any doubt.
That palm strike just now collapsed the entire Arena into a massive pit, a display of overwhelming might that was evident to all, an unparalleled force.
No one believed Bu would accept this lethal strike; even a fool, after witnessing the terrifying power of Habea III's earlier blow, would wisely choose to refuse.
Elena Liu Mei frowned slightly, casting an unhappy glance at Ankiro, but ultimately sighed and shook her head, closing her eyes.
Sean Sterling, however, burst into hearty laughter, his voice rolling like thunder. As his laughter subsided, his icy gaze locked onto Habea III, filled with immense arrogance: "I, Sean Sterling, am here today to see what is so shocking about your palm strike. Whether it is one strike or a thousand strikes, what can you do to me? With your Quasi-Advanced strength, allowing someone to take your strike—do you still care about face?"
"Face?" Habea III scoffed coldly. "My son died tragically; I will avenge him at any cost. What does face matter?"
"Hmph... In the past, I protected Brent. Today I stand here; use whatever means you have. I want to see if you can kill anyone in front of me," Sean Sterling retorted coldly, showing no mercy against Habea III, a Duke and Quasi-Advanced powerhouse.
Bu Xin felt warmth in his heart. Although he had not known Sean Sterling for long, based on the series of events that had transpired over these days, it was clear that Sean was a man of his word. Once he committed to something, he would not back down—even if it meant breaking rules and clashing with several Judges.
He did not understand why Sean Sterling was so determined to help him. Sometimes he wondered if Sean had ulterior motives for protecting him. However, he ultimately dismissed the thought of judging someone's intentions based on his own assumptions.
Some people may have known each other for a long time yet feel like strangers; others may have just met but seem as if they have known each other forever.
Sean Sterling's willingness to assist him was not driven by any ulterior motive since he had nothing worth scheming over. Perhaps when two people clicked well together, all assistance felt so natural and effortless.
In the arena, Sean Sterling floated in mid-air, facing off against Habea III from a distance. The atmosphere became somewhat subtle and charged with tension, as if a single misstep could ignite conflict.
Bu smiled slightly at this moment and spoke up: "Senior Sean, this matter arose because of me alone; please allow me to say a few words."
The words spread, though not loud, they were heard by almost everyone present, who turned their gazes toward Bu, curious about what he would say next.
Elena furrowed her brows and opened her beautiful eyes to look in Bu's direction. Initially, she had a slight fondness for him when they first met, but as a series of events unfolded afterward, that fondness gradually faded, replaced by a deep-seated disgust and disdain.
Especially after today's incident, Bu had become synonymous with recklessness in her mind.
"You have something to say? Go ahead. With me here, I can ensure your safety," Sean Sterling said, his gaze fixed on Bu. His expression was calm, but the protective tone in his voice was evident.
Bu Wei smiled and nodded, then shifted his gaze to Habea III and said, "Today I killed the Fifth Prince. While this act may be reckless, it is better than engaging in meaningless fights where fists have no eyes. I believe I have no regrets. It is only natural for Your Majesty to seek revenge for your son and want to kill me, but I wonder if the agreement of a single palm strike can still hold?"
"Brent..." Sean Sterling's expression tightened as he frowned deeply. However, when he caught Bu's gaze, he ultimately chose to listen further.
"Idiot," Elena scoffed coldly, looking at Bu as if he were a hopeless fool. The Judges beside her also laughed derisively, while Beck burst into uncontrollable laughter without restraint.
Bu's words stirred up a commotion like a stone thrown into water, clearly provoking Habea III to accept the challenge of that palm strike agreement. The crowd buzzed with excitement, pointing at Bu in discussion, unsure whether he was foolish or commendably brave.
Habea III was initially taken aback but soon regained composure. With an expression of intrigue, he stared at Bu Wei for a moment before slowly speaking: "Once spoken, it cannot be taken back; once spilled, the water cannot be gathered again. This water has been spilled; I will not even keep the basin. The agreement of a single palm strike shall be witnessed by all present."
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