The Ultramarines Legion Commander—Artoria Pendragon—descended.
The teeth of the golden chainsword in her hand began to rotate at high speed, emitting a low hum. The arena fell silent as everyone held their breath, their gazes locked onto the blonde girl who stood less than 1.6 meters tall but radiated an overwhelming pressure.
She looked up, her azure eyes reflecting Ian's silhouette.
"Are you my Master?"
In the spectator stands, a young outcast suddenly bolted upright, his drink falling to the ground.
"Holy crap! It's the King of Knights! It's really Saber!"
Exclamations erupted one after another.
"What the hell! Isn't that a character from an anime? Is this some kind of new illusion technique?"
"That's definitely a physical entity! Can't you feel that pressure? This is absolutely not an illusion!"
"Is this really Xingyi Quan? Damn, it's too cool!"
"Is it too late for me to switch my specialty to Xingyi Quan?"
"Bro, go tell the old man back home that after the Grand Luo Heaven Sacrifice, I'm staying here to learn Xingyi Quan. I'm not going back!"
In mid-air, Huang Ming's Yang Spirit hovered motionless, as if frozen in place. As a spiritual entity, he understood better than anyone the suppressive force Artoria exerted over souls. It was an instinctive, irresistible terror.
Artoria slightly raised her chainsword, pointing the tip directly at Huang Ming's Yang Spirit, waiting only for Ian's command.
Cold sweat broke out on the forehead of Huang Ming's Yang Spirit, but he still hadn't given up. He struggled to condense his Qi, attempting to launch an attack.
"Mr. Ian..."
Before he could finish his sentence, a spatial ripple appeared beside him.
A fat Yang Spirit wearing sunglasses and a large beard flashed into existence, looking as if he were out for a spring picnic. This comical appearance formed a sharp contrast with the serious atmosphere of the occasion.
"Senior Brother?!" Huang Ming's Yang Spirit cried out in surprise.
The newcomer was Huang Ming's senior brother, Liu Xingyang, a renowned expert of the Quanzhen sect.
However, before Huang Ming could react, Liu Xingyang's Yang Spirit raised a hand and delivered a swift chop to his forehead.
Slap!
"Idiot!"
Liu Xingyang scolded him while tugging on the ear of Huang Ming's soul form.
"You idiot! You dare to show off with that measly bit of Yang Spirit skill?!"
"Can't you see the strength of the person you're up against?"
"Do you have a death wish!"
After every scolding, Liu Xingyang gave him a kick to the rear. Huang Ming's Yang Spirit scurried everywhere, crying out for mercy.
"Senior Brother! Gentler! Take it easy!"
"I was wrong! I was really wrong!"
On Dragon-Tiger Mountain, a match that should have been solemn and grand suddenly turned into this scene. Huang Ming fled with his head in his hands while Liu Xingyang pursued him relentlessly, never stopping his verbal abuse.
On the high platform, the corner of the Old Taoist Master's mouth twitched imperceptibly.
On the other side, Ian and Artoria were watching the heartwarming scene with great interest. However, such a scene was still missing something. He casually raised his hand, and a golden spatial gate opened beside him.
He pulled out a chilled watermelon.
This was no ordinary watermelon—it was nearly a cubic meter in size, its surface a bright, glossy green. Ian sliced it open with ease; the cross-section was a dripping, vibrant red, emitting a fresh, fruity fragrance.
Ian found a stone step at the edge of the arena to sit on and sliced off a piece, handing it to the solemn Artoria beside him.
"Try some."
Artoria took it with a serious expression, yet looked a bit lost as she stared at the slice of watermelon that was larger than her face, unsure of where to start biting.
Ian cut another slice and suddenly felt an extra silhouette beside him.
Feng Baobao had appeared at some point. Her bright eyes were fixed intently on the giant watermelon, and she looked ready to drool.
"What a fragrant watermelon. I want a bite too."
Ian smiled and handed her a large piece.
Feng Baobao took it without hesitation, buried her face in the watermelon, and began to eat in large gulps. The juice ran down her chin, but she didn't care at all.
The three of them sat there at the edge of the arena, leisurely eating watermelon as if they were in a summer courtyard rather than a tense competition ground.
Artoria sat upright, nibbling on the watermelon in small bites, her golden cowlick swaying slightly with her movements. The picture was surprisingly harmonious.
Feng Baobao, her mouth covered in juice, praised unclearly, "Eh! This melon is real good! Much better than the ones I ate before!"
The referee responsible for this arena stood frozen in place, his eyes darting between the various absurd sights.
Two Yang Spirits were chasing each other in the center of the court; a blonde girl in sci-fi power armor was gracefully eating watermelon; a young girl was wolfing it down. None of them looked like they were here for a match; they looked like they were on a field trip.
His mouth twitched violently, feeling as though his professional career had been subjected to unprecedented insult.
Finally, just as the poor referee reached his limit, Huang Ming shouted, "I give up! Senior Brother, stop hitting me! I surrender!"
"Uh... For this match, Ian wins!" The referee announced the result with a face full of dark lines.
Hearing this, Ian slowly finished his last bite of watermelon and gave a casual wave, making the remaining rinds vanish into thin air.
Artoria put down her rind, stood up, and gave Ian a standard knightly salute.
"My mission is complete. Farewell, Master. Remember to call me next time you need something."
Then, her figure dissolved into golden motes of light and vanished into the air.
Ian clapped his hands, signaled for Feng Baobao to head back first, and then strolled out of Arena Eight with his hands in his pockets.
All eyes followed his back, the air thick with shock and awe.
On the high platform, Old Taoist Master Zhang Zhiwei opened his eyes. He watched Ian's departing back, glanced at the two Quanzhen Yang Spirits still brawling, and frowned slightly, a look of helplessness and contemplation flashing in his eyes.
"This kid..."
The Old Taoist Master stroked his beard, his thoughts racing.
Tennis rackets? Hand grenades? Summoning Heroic Spirits?
These abilities, so out of place in the traditional outcast world, had displayed incredible power.
'If these moves are accomplished through such exquisite control of Qi, then this child is likely no weaker than I was in my youth! I'm afraid this Grand Luo Heaven Sacrifice is going to be completely turned upside down.'
In the spectator stands, the discussion was like a surging tide. Ian's performance had completely set the venue on fire, with endless speculation and amazement.
"Say, what ultimate move do you think he'll use next?"
"Maybe a more powerful anime character? I bet he'll summon a superhero!"
"I think he'll definitely use Xingyi: Rocket Launcher!"
"I'm going to ask to be his apprentice. Anyone with me?"
"I'm going too, for the sake of my beloved Nami-chan!"
"Count me in, for the sake of my beloved Tsunade-chan!"
"And me! For the sake of my beloved Big Mom!"
"Huh?? Something's wrong with you!"
"No! Listen to me, Big Mom was really beautiful when she was young, and she also..."
"Hey, don't run away! Let me finish! Big Mom is really great! And Lady Dimitrescu is great too!"
The young outcast put all his effort into promoting his favorite characters, only to find the people around him looking at him with increasingly bizarre expressions.