An Understated Dominance (Dustin Rhys)

The spectators were shocked by Truce's death. What was expected to be a routine match ended in a shocking turn of events. It was genuinely bewildering.

"Hmm?" Oron frowned as he looked at the lifeless body under the battle ring.

He hadn't expected the heavily injured Jeremiah could still deliver such a lethal blow. The single strike that killed Truce caught Oron off guard.

Although battles could be unpredictable and fate often decided the outcome, losing a skilled expert like Truce was a significant loss for Dragonmarsh.

"That priest has stalent. Despite being in the fight for so long, he's still holding back his full power. Impressive. "Sitting in the front row with a clear view of the battle ring, Alloy narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

He had watched the entire fight unfold and noticed Jeremiah had relied solely on his physical strength. Alloy could tell Jeremiah had more skills in reserve.

"Hmph! Just a half-human, half- demon freak. Not exactly a game-changer." Cyrus sneered with a contemptuous glare.

The Streuquans were always obsessed with bizarre advancements like genetic enhancement, human modifications, and so on.

While these might offer a temporary power boost, they were shortcuts and ultimately ineffective against true strength.

"If I'm not mistaken, the three foreign contestants are from the Hall of Gods, right?" Kaden asked nonchalantly.

He continued, "Seems like they're using this Combat Tournament as an opportunity to assert their dominance at Sacred Wyrm Summit." His tone was even, but his eyes flashed with anger.

Jeremiah had deliberately concealed his strength and conserved his energy to strike at the critical moment. Truce was exceptionally gifted, with extraordinary talent and perceptiveness. He was poised to break through and becan ultimate grandmaster. Hence, his death was a significant loss for Dragonmarsh.

"If the Hall of Gods dares to send their dogs on us, then let's make sure they don't leave today," Penelope said grimly.

Alloy and Cyrus exchanged a look of silent agreement. They knew that any internal conflicts would need to be postponed until they had dealt with these external threats first.

After a brief silence, Oron announced, " The first match is over. The winner is Contestant number 32." Only a few scattered applause was heard, while the majority of the spectators remained silent. The mood might have been different if it had been a simple matter of winning or losing.

Truce hadn't just lost-he had lost his life. Under these grim circumstances, who could feel celebratory? After the first match ended, Oron immediately carried Truce's body away and summoned a team to repair the battle ring.

The battle ring made of Abyssal stone was durable and easy to repair. The damage could be fixed in under five minutes by pouring molten Abyssal stone into the cracks and pits. Once the liquid had cooled, the ring would be as good as new.

"Let's move on to the second match. Contestants 2 and 31, please cto the ring." After a short break, Oron's voice rang out again.

Two women rose from the audience and walked toward the battle ring, one on the left and one on the right.

The woman on the left wore a red battle outfit. She was tall and had a cool, composed look. She carried a long spear and radiated the distinct presence of a female general. She was Veronica Campbell, one of Alloy's direct disciples.

On the right, the woman in the sleek black gown had a striking figure and an enchanting beauty. Her radiant smile and graceful movements exuded a natural, irresistible allure.

When she appeared, she captured every man's attention. Young, impassioned men struggled to maintain their composure. They were left breathless, and their eyes widened with fascination. To them, she was the very definition of allure.

"I recognize the woman in red on the left. She's Veronica Campbell, a senior disciple from the Celestial Alliance. But who is the one in black?" "No idea. With that look, she is sure to steal the show!" The entrance of the two female martial artists quickly reignited the atmosphere, which had been a bit subdued.

While both women drew attention, the one in black was the center of focus. Her slender waist and captivating figure were simply mesmerizing.

"Is that her?" Dustin raised an eyebrow in surprise when he m recognized the woman in black. He hadn't paid much attention during the draw earlier, so encountering a familiar face was unexpected. The woman in black was Azalea Larson, whom he had met a year ago in Balerno. Back then, she had been a disciple of the Dark Lord, a traitor to the Mystic Arts Order.

But she had turned her back on her dark past to becAbigail's bodyguard. When Abigail awakened her Phoenix bloodline and was taken to the Mystic Arts Order, Azalea followed and beca disciple.

Azalea was skilled in face-changing and the Art of Charming, techniques that had nearly fooled Dustin on several occasions.

He was surprised that she had made remarkable progress and beca grandmaster martial artist after a year. Being around Abigail made Azalea a key focus for the Mystic Arts Order's training. This Combat Tournament was Azalea's moment to shine and establish her reputation.

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