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墨書 Inktalez
As everyone entered the Canopy, a dense and violent aura suddenly filled the vast Second Floor Tower.
The support teams of the selection candidates standing at the entrance couldn't help but frown slightly. The pervasive atmosphere grew heavier, reaching a somewhat terrifying level, causing some to worry about their companions' abilities. As time passed, this anxiety spread further.
Ikeda Kenji, who had little understanding of martial arts, could keenly sense the tense atmosphere. He discreetly asked Jufeng beside him, "Is the situation inside the Canopy very difficult?"
Jufeng nodded slightly and replied in a low voice, "Each Canopy has at least ten Winged Holy Envoy Members, and the confined space is particularly disadvantageous for individual combat. It seems that after this round, there will be only a few left. But don't worry; Yamura should be fine. Although he isn't good at close combat with his flying knives, he excels in agility."
Originally, there were nine people who arrived here last, but it seemed that less than half would be able to advance further.
After hearing Jufeng's description, Ikeda Kenji felt somewhat reassured, though he understood that everyone would likely sustain some injuries after passing through the Canopy. He hoped Yamura could conserve his strength as much as possible; it wouldn't matter if it took a little longer.
Before long, a piercing scream suddenly echoed through the space from one of the Canopies in the middle section of the tower. Immediately after, a figure arced gracefully through the air but landed in a way that was far from elegant.
Three people rushed out from the support team to help their companion up. After struggling to stand with their assistance, the person managed to take two shaky steps forward before abruptly spitting out a mouthful of warm, crimson blood.
After expelling the blood, the person's complexion appeared somewhat more normal, though they couldn't hide a look of despondency—having fortunately eliminated an opponent but now being eliminated by a Saint Envoy.
The four walked through the crowd and headed downstairs while everyone's gaze followed them until they disappeared from sight, yet no one spoke up to comment.
They all understood that the next person to leave in such a disheveled manner could very well be one of their own. Expressing any schadenfreude at this moment would only make their own departure more miserable later on.
After the first person left, the situation fell into a brief stalemate. Those outside the Canopy could hear various sounds emanating from within—the clash of weapons, deep bursts of internal energy in the air, and muffled thuds as two Canopies collided in space.
From these sounds alone, it was clear that the fighting inside was intense; it felt as if every lethal strike sent shivers through everyone outside, igniting their blood and adrenaline.
Authority is in a perilous situation, while the onlooker is experiencing the tension from a distance, feeling even more tormented.
It is hard to tell how much time has passed; the agonizing wait feels interminable, and the perception of time seems to differ from the actual passage of it. It truly feels like an eternity before a second person finally leaves the battle, flying out of the Canopy.
This person does not spit blood, and despite struggling to rise, their face is as pale as snow.
A man and a woman rush to assist him, speaking in a flurry of comforting words. The man waves his hand, indicating that he is not seriously injured, and with the help of the man and woman, he slowly makes his way out of the tower.
His back appears desolate, like the last leaf drifting from a solitary boat in autumn, looking back longingly at the sky it yearns for, only to ultimately return to silence beneath the broom of the leaf sweeper.
Not long after, a third individual who has no connection to the Vice Captain emerges.
On the surface, this person's condition seems decent; aside from a trickle of blood at the corner of their mouth and tattered clothing, there are no obvious injuries. More remarkably, they are the only one so far who has walked out on their own.
Stepping out from behind the curtain, this person shakes their head and lets out a resigned sigh. They wipe their short sword with a tattered sleeve before leaving the tower in a lonely and desolate manner.
Time flows slowly, drifting into an unnoticeable silence. One after another, three more individuals leave in solitude, leaving only a few spectators behind.
It feels as though everything has drawn to a close; it’s just unclear whether nightfall outside has begun to encroach. Ikeda Masahiro can no longer stand; he walks to the corner of the staircase and sits down, repeatedly pounding his legs in apparent exhaustion.
Jufeng watches as people continue to leave, his forehead creasing deeper with worry. It is not because Hayamura Shuichi has yet to emerge; he has already come to believe that Hayamura Shuichi will eventually make it through this ordeal—it will just take more time.
His frown deepens further because Li Ji, who should have emerged long ago, has still not appeared. Logically, he should have been able to navigate through with ease and step confidently into the next selection round. Yet for reasons unknown, he remains inside.
He is certain that today’s Saint Envoy selection is murky waters filled with many variables and restless factors.
About a quarter of an hour later, Hayamura Shuichi and another nearly bald middle-aged man emerged simultaneously. Both looked disheveled, but their expressions were starkly different from those who had come out earlier; there was no sign of despair on their faces, but rather a hint of joy.
Hayamura Shuichi walked over to Ikeda Kenji, beads of sweat covering his forehead, his breath slightly uneven. Yet, his spirit was exceptionally vibrant, and his fighting will remained high.
This had been a protracted battle, and under the expectant gazes of the crowd, Hayamura Shuichi slowly revealed the answer that brought joy.
"I succeeded."
Upon hearing this, Ikeda Kenji finally relaxed the tension he had been holding in his heart. He exhaled slowly and encouraged him, "That's great. You've worked hard."
The other Bald Young Man was in a similar physical and mental state as Hayamura Shuichi. Accompanying him were three men speaking a language from Europe, though it was unclear which country it was from. Judging by the reactions of the three companions, they were nearly bursting with excitement and were about to cheer; they too had likely succeeded like Hayamura Shuichi.
At that moment, a winged member of the Holy Envoy arrived at the scene, accompanied by a translator. He first spoke a few sentences in another language to the group before the translator relayed a lengthy message to Ikeda Kenji and his team in English.
Ikeda Masahiro came from around the corner of the stairs to stand beside Jufeng, thoughtfully providing simultaneous translation.
"He said that after this second round of trials, only our two teams remain. Next, we will go to the third floor to be observed by the two Vice Captains for the final showdown."
"Just two?" Jufeng exclaimed in surprise.
"Yes," Ikeda Masahiro replied with a slight frown. "Are you doubting my proficiency in my mother tongue?"
Hearing Ikeda Masahiro's confirmation startled Jufeng. He had been closely monitoring the situation and realized that Li Ji, who had come up together with them and entered a Canopy, had not yet emerged. Could it be that a living person had vanished into thin air? Or had he been secretly killed by the Saint Envoy?
Jufeng recognized that this trip with the Saint Envoy was indeed turning out to be quite eventful, even featuring a disappearing act. However, he merely grumbled internally and dared not take it seriously because his instincts told him that Li Ji would not have come here just for a casual visit.
Casting aside the doubts in his heart and refusing to overthink, he could only take things one step at a time.
After introducing the competition schedule to Ikeda and the other party, he led both groups upstairs.
Upon reaching a higher floor, he was finally greeted by an environment that was more in line with modern society. Although there were still no electric lights, there were sofas, jade tiles, and white walls. Two rows of people stood in the hall; in front were two Six-Winged Envoys, and behind them were ten Four-Winged Envoys.
The Holy Judgment Council consisted of three Vice Captains, ten Stewards, and various Members. Ordinary Members were Winged Envoys, while Stewards had four wings, Vice Captains had six wings, and it continued to increase up to Eight-Winged.
Apart from the most esteemed Commander, all other Senior Management had arrived here, indicating how significant the selection of this Vice Captain was.
In the center was an open space. The two Vice Captains who had been following along exchanged a few words before Hayamura Shuichi and the Bald Young Man stepped into the arena and immediately resumed their battle.
(To be continued)
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