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The Fat Man clenched his fists, his gaze firmly fixed on Pifu, and said in a deep voice, "Come on!"
Pifu sneered, waving his blue staff. A fireball the size of a basketball instantly formed, shooting toward the Fat Man with intense heat.
The Fat Man did not dare to be careless; he quickly summoned the little magic power he had left and conjured an Ice Shield to block in front of him. The Ice Shield collided with the fireball, producing a hissing sound as steam filled the air, temporarily obscuring the vision of both sides.
"Just a trivial skill," Pifu's voice came from within the mist, filled with disdain.
As soon as he finished speaking, several ice spikes suddenly shot out from the mist, heading straight for the Fat Man.
The Fat Man was already prepared. He sidestepped the ice spikes while conjuring a wind blade that shot toward the direction of the voice.
The wind blade moved at incredible speed and reached Pifu in an instant. Seeing this, Pifu quickly waved his staff, and a wall of earth rose up to block the wind blade's attack.
"Not bad," a hint of surprise flashed in Pifu's eyes. He hadn't expected the Fat Man to react so quickly and counterattack right under his nose.
"This is just the beginning!" the Fat Man shouted loudly as he rapidly formed hand seals and chanted incantations.
With the Fat Man's spell, the surrounding air began to vibrate violently as a powerful energy rapidly coalesced.
"What is this..." Pifu's expression changed slightly. He felt the magical fluctuations emanating from the Fat Man growing stronger, surpassing the realm of basic magic.
"Wind Sweeps Away the Clouds!" The Fat Man roared as he thrust his hands forward.
A fierce wind howled as a massive tornado appeared out of nowhere, engulfing Pifu within it.
The tornado spun at high speed, producing a deafening roar that uprooted nearby trees and sent debris flying everywhere. The entire training ground seemed on the verge of being torn apart by this immense force.
"Ah!" Pifu let out a scream as he was caught in the tornado, his body being torn by the raging winds in agony.
"Stop! I concede!" Pifu finally could no longer withstand this overwhelming power and cried out for mercy.
Hearing Pifu concede, the Fat Man felt a sense of relief and quickly ceased his magical output.
The tornado gradually dissipated, revealing Pifu's disheveled figure. His clothes were tattered, hair disarrayed, and his face covered in dust—gone was any trace of his previous arrogance and elegance.
The overweight man walked up to Pifu, looking down at him from a height, and said in a deep voice, "You lost."
Pifu lowered his head and remained silent, tightly clenching his fists, his eyes filled with unwillingness and shame.
"Prince Pifu, thank you for the match," the overweight man said casually before turning to leave the training ground, leaving Pifu standing there, lost in thought for a long time.
Joker Elder approached Pifu, patting him on the shoulder with a smile. "Young man, winning and losing are common in battle; there's no need to take it too hard."
Pifu looked up at Joker Elder and forced a smile. "I know. I just didn't expect to lose to a magic apprentice..."
"Ha ha, that's because you underestimated him," Joker Elder said meaningfully. "That overweight guy is not simple at all!"
Pifu fell silent as he watched the figure of the overweight man walking away, a complex expression flashing in his eyes.
"Hahaha, good lad! It seems your magical talent is even stronger than Fighting Spirit!" Joker Elder laughed heartily as he stepped forward and patted the overweight man's shoulder, his tone full of admiration.
"It was just luck," the overweight man humbly scratched his head, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.
"Luck? I wouldn't say so," Great Mage Pisman said as he approached from a distance, holding a staff embedded with blue gemstones that emitted a faint glow with each step he took.
"Lord Pisman." The overweight man and Pifu both bowed to Pisman.
"Mm." Pisman nodded slightly, his gaze landing on the overweight man with a hint of barely noticeable surprise. "Your control over magic is quite impressive; it seems your talent is indeed high."
"You're too kind, Lord Pisman," the overweight man said shyly as he lowered his head.
"However..." Pisman shifted his tone, "your magical power is still quite weak. If you want to become a true magician, you'll need to work much harder on your training."
The overweight man nodded seriously; he knew that Pisman was speaking the truth. He was just starting out and had a long way to go before becoming a real magician.
"Alright, let's wrap up today's training," Pisman waved his hand, signaling that they could leave.
After bidding farewell to Pisman, the overweight man and Pifu prepared to exit the training ground.
"Wait a moment."
A deep voice suddenly echoed, and Hel appeared at the edge of the training ground. His sharp gaze swept over everyone before finally landing on the Fatty.
"Fatty, come with me," Hel said, turning around without a hint of hesitation.
"What does Lord Hel want with me?" Fatty asked, confused, but he obediently followed.
Joker Elder watched the two departing figures, a glimmer of profound insight flashing in his eyes.
"It seems some things can no longer be hidden..." he murmured softly to himself.
Hel led Fatty to his study, which was filled with various books and scrolls, the air infused with a faint scent of ink.
"Have a seat," Hel said, pointing to the chair in front of the desk.
Fatty sat down as instructed, curiously watching Hel, unsure of what he was about to say.
Hel took out an ancient ring from the drawer. The ring was intricately carved with complex patterns and emanated a subtle pressure.
"Fatty, do you know your origins?" Hel asked seriously.
"My origins?" Fatty paused for a moment and shook his head. He had grown up in his family and knew little about his background.
"In fact..." Hel took a deep breath and slowly continued, "You are the last Son of the War God, bearing powerful bloodline strength."
"What?!" Fatty jumped to his feet, dropping the teacup in his hand, shattering it on the floor. His face was filled with shock as he struggled to believe that his lineage was so extraordinary.
"This... how is this possible?" Fatty stammered. He had always thought he was just an ordinary Noble Scion, never imagining he was actually the Son of the War God!
"This is true," Hel handed the ring to Fatty. "This ring was left to you by your father; it can help you awaken your bloodline power."
Fatty trembled as he took the ring. It felt cold in his hand, yet he sensed an inexplicable familiarity.
"I..." Fatty opened his mouth, wanting to say something but unsure of what to express.
"I know your feelings are complicated right now, but you don't have to worry. I will help you master this power," Hel said, patting the chubby man's shoulder with an encouraging tone.
"Thank you, Lord Hel," the chubby man said gratefully, looking at Hel. He didn't know how to express his feelings, but he knew that Hel genuinely wanted to help him.
"Alright, you should go back and rest. Starting tomorrow, I will give you special training," Hel said.
"Yes!" The chubby man stood up, bowed to Hel, and then turned to leave the study.
After the chubby man left, Pifu emerged from behind the bookshelf, his face dark and filled with disbelief.
"He... he is the Son of the War God?" Pifu clenched his fists, his nails digging deeply into his flesh, yet he felt no pain at all.
"What's wrong? Are you jealous?" Joker Elder appeared in the study at some point, looking at Pifu with a half-smile.
"Hmph, why would I be jealous of him?" Pifu replied defiantly, but his tone betrayed his true feelings.
"Jealousy is just jealousy; there's nothing to be ashamed of," Joker Elder said nonchalantly. "But I must remind you that the chubby man is not so easy to deal with. You'd better not have any crooked ideas."
"Hmph, I don't need your reminders!" Pifu snorted coldly and turned to leave the study.
Joker Elder watched Pifu's departing figure, a glint of cunning flashing in his eyes.
"Hehe, it seems there's going to be a good show..." he murmured softly.
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