Facing an Ancient God for a Year

Looking at the scene inside the White Tower, Fu Qian was struck by a bout of reflection.

In a suddenly expansive space, waves of noise rolled over one another.

There were men and women, old and young, their cheers and screams intermingling.

Some were simply meaningless howls, sounding like demonic donkeys.

All of this echoing together oddly reminded one of a tune called “Dance of the Swarming Bees,” making it hard to keep from scratching one’s ears.

From the inside, the building looked even more magnificent than from the outside, though the architectural style left something to be desired.

The vast space and spiraling white columns put one in mind of an unbelievably grand cathedral.

However, at the base of the space was an area akin to the Roman Colosseum, surrounded by densely packed honeycomb-like stands.

At the same time, the variety of bizarre screens above the platform and the chaotic light strips further up clearly declared that one was in the information age.

Is this the legendary, invincible Ivory Tower Arena?

One must say it fully reflected the builder’s deep pockets and appalling taste.

The intense discord, if one had to describe it, was like a statue of the King of Hell, wearing a Bluetooth headset, fondly twirling a boomerang in its hand.

“Hello, please come this way.”

A young woman with auburn hair and robed like an ancient Greek Female Priestess, approached, timely interrupting Fu Qian’s reflections with an impeccable smile and urging him to enter through a side passage.

Fu Qian looked around and indeed, every competing “gladiator” was accompanied by such a person.

Considering the number of participants in past years, it was impressive they managed to find so many psychopomps.

One could imagine that a good number of these Female Priestesses would soon be out of a job.

Passing through a long corridor, the two rapidly arrived in a room resembling a preparation area.

“You can choose any weapon that suits you!”

The Female Priestess led Fu Qian to a weapons rack near the wall, pointing to it as she spoke.

“Can I use anything?”

Fu Qian scrutinized the rack; the variety of weapons was quite rich, ranging from the most common swords, knives, and spears to all kinds of unimaginable shapes.

The most important aspect was the quality craftsmanship; they all seemed quite exceptional.

Of course, they all shared one common feature—he didn’t know how to use any of them.

That’s right, ever since becoming a Thug, he hadn’t had time to learn to use any type of weapon, always adhering to the principle of “the best technique is no technique” and swinging his fists recklessly.

The key thing was that so far this seemed to work quite well, so Fu Qian wasn’t planning to change his approach for the time being.

“Anything that is up there is fine,”

the Female Priestess replied.

“Also, any personal equipment is allowed as long as it passes the inspection.”

“Understood.”

Quite accommodating indeed.

Fu Qian looked around; given the large number of participants, it was impossible for the preparation room to be a luxury of one room per person. Besides himself, there were three others in the room—

a young man who seemed quite nervous, a blonde young woman, and—a pitch-black tin can?

Fu Qian observed the last contestant, fully decked out in extravagant black plate armor with intricate etched patterns.

With sharp horns on the helmet, one might indeed mistake him for the Black Knight.

“This is allowed?”

Fu Qian pointed out.

“Yes,”

the Female Priestess nobly and coolly nodded, while also gesturing towards another set of racks on the opposite side of the room.

“In fact, there are some pieces of armor here as well, which you may choose at your discretion.”

Fu Qian looked around, and various forms of protective gear and shields were lined up all the way to the end.

He was still being modest, though. While not as ostentatious as the Black Knight, he basically had all kinds of standard equipment.

Unfortunately, it was still of no use to me. An attack that could harm myself could not simply be negated by a few pieces of iron.

Fu Qian looked around and eventually chose to wear a white mask on his face.

“All set.”

The mask was very light, not even made of metal, so light that its weight was almost unnoticeable.

Last time at the Huang Family’s Mid-Levels Manor, I wore just such a mask.

When the other items seemed useless, it made more sense to use this to maintain a sense of mystery befitting a master.

Fu Qian’s choice obviously took the Female Priestess by surprise, and she paused for a moment before she could muster a smile fitting of a goddess and started to introduce the current situation with warmth.

“Due to the large number of participants, there will be three arenas operating simultaneously, so all you need to do is wait here.”

Fu Qian nodded, listening to the sounds of the crowd outside, curious how the King of the White Tower would make his appearance, when suddenly the shouting outside stopped.

The next moment, various lights instantly focused on one spot, and an open elevator descended slowly from the sky.

Uh!

Fu Qian’s vision, much improved from before, immediately confirmed that the man in the elevator was his target for this trip, Bai Jinting, the King of the White Tower.

Compared to the demons and monsters in the stands, this man looked quite normal, not having multiple heads at least.

The problem is, old man, aren’t you over 70 by now?

Putting aside any safety concerns, are you serious about this iron cage-designed elevator?

Under the pursuit of the spotlights, Bai Jinting’s elevator came to a slow stop, finally resting at a position separate from the other stands.

“Welcome to the Ring Islands!”

Bai Jinting, already in his seventies, looked much younger than his actual age and began his speech with a strong and clear voice.

Wow!

The cheers instantly doubled in volume.

“Welcome to the Ivory Tower Arena…”

Fu Qian squinted, observing his surroundings.

This bizarrely shaped behemoth was equipped with extremely strict security measures that could drive one crazy.

Beyond the various defensive methods, the biggest cornerstone here was the legendary Demigod, known as the Spirit of the Storm, Yibu.

It was said that five years ago at the age of 68, he was honored with reaching the Third Phase, and later, due to his fondness for the sea climate, he accepted the invitation of the White Tower Group to become a special advisor, since then rarely leaving the place.

According to the information, Bai Jinting seldom showed himself, always hidden under such tight security.

Only during the annual “King of the White Tower” tournament did he participate throughout the event and personally award the ultimate winner in the end.

Theoretically, this presented a rather good opportunity.

The information clearly stated that he was not a Transcendent, and the plan to potentially kill the champion with one swift move during the award ceremony was a very reasonable approach to complete the mission.

Even if the Demigod intervened, it would be too late by then.

Moreover, this mission had no time limit, so it was indeed possible to spend some time to finish this tournament first.

And in the process, to get to know this target of mine a little better.

Even as a heartless mission doer, I have principles.

Gather some charges, so when it comes to execution, it will be entirely justified.

In the end, Fu Qian inexplicably felt that this man in front of him might not be so easy to kill.

Bai Jinting’s speech could be described as lengthy, and he even took over the host’s job, slowly reading through the competition rules himself.

This shameless waste of time successfully added a bit more intent to kill in Fu Qian.

Finally, with Bai Jinting contentedly seated, the host grabbed back the microphone and announced the start of the competition.