Chapter Eighty: The Heroes’ Challenge Tournament (Part Nine)
Xinyu was pressed so close against me that I could feel the softness of her chest and the rapid thumping of her heart.
The cooldown for Shocking Arrow had ended!
The instant blue light flickered on the tip of Xinyu’s arrow, I swiftly moved toward the swordsman in black armor. As soon as he was stunned by the Shocking Arrow, I unleashed my Heavy Blow and Combo attack!
"522!"
"354!"
"368!"
"324!"
A string of numbers announced the swordsman’s demise. He had allocated all his points to strength and barely had any health left after the previous battle—certainly less than a thousand. Under such a fierce assault, he immediately turned into a white beam and respawned.
Meanwhile, the other swordsman’s attack struck me. His combo and heavy blow did less than 500 damage—far less threatening than Murong Shanshan’s, yet still deadly for a cloth-armored class.
I swung my sword in retaliation!
"624!"
"726!"
Perhaps it was luck, or perhaps this swordsman was simply doomed—both my normal attacks were critical hits. He didn’t even have time to cry out before he was instantly killed!
The battle was over!
System notification: The Green Veggie Cocoa team has successfully advanced to the next round. The next match will begin in ten minutes. All players advancing to the top eight will be transported to the arena in five minutes!
At the edge of the arena, Xinyu patted her ample chest. “That nearly scared the life out of me! I thought we were done for right there!”
Xu Lin still looked shaken. “Those two swordsmen hit hard and worked together so well. That kind of burst damage would’ve been fatal for any cloth class.”
As we spoke, the system’s five-minute timer ran out, and with a swoosh, the five of us appeared in a new arena. Along with us were players from the other seven teams, all gathered below the stage, where a woman who looked like the host stood waiting.
System notification: You have entered the finals arena of the First Braveheart Challenge Tournament. Please wait patiently for your match! Current number of spectators: 8,652,346!
Good grief—over eight million people watching! That’s insane!
The host, swaying her plump hips, approached the edge of the stage with a beaming smile. “Hello, everyone! I’m Fei’er! Congratulations to all the players who made it to the top eight. I’ll be commentating each match from here on out.”
“Wow, it’s Fei’er! The star host from the Entertainment Channel!” Li Qing was so excited she was nearly in tears—over just a host? Really…
I leaned in to ask Xue Han, “Do you know who Fei’er is?”
Xue Han nodded with a smile. “Of course, Fei’er is the most popular female host on Shanghai's Entertainment Channel these past two years. Her commentaries on Warcraft and Starcraft tournaments are hugely popular. She’s the top host in the gaming circuit. Haven’t you played Warcraft before? You don’t know her?”
I shook my head and turned my gaze back to the stage. I played Warcraft, not women—of course I didn’t know her.
Fei’er briefly explained the rules—no provocative language toward female players from opposing teams, for example—then finally announced, “Now, let’s prepare for the draw! Each team, please send a representative to the stage! Numbers 1 through 8 will be drawn. 1 fights 2, 3 fights 4, 5 fights 6, and 7 fights 8. After the first four are decided, the winners of the top and bottom brackets will compete for a spot in the finals!”
Xu Lin glanced back at me. “You go draw. You’re the highest level—makes sense for you to be our representative.”
I didn’t hesitate, striding up onto the stage. Behind me, Murong Shanshan, Mad Warrior, and Ye Qiu also came up in turn. When the eight of us stood in a line on stage, the audience erupted in screams—I finally realized there were actually quite a few players sitting in the stands.
Ye Qiu stood right beside me, casting me a few extra glances—perhaps intentionally, perhaps not—then gave me a friendly smile, which I returned.
Could he have recognized me? Probably not. My appearance was drastically altered; he shouldn't be able to tell.
Fei’er swayed over, her enormous bosom jiggling with each step, leaving Mad Warrior and the other male players dumbstruck.
“Now, please come forward and draw lots. Each of you has a button in front of you. When I say ‘start,’ the numbers 1 through 8 will begin to flash. Hit your button to stop the number—your group assignment will be displayed on the system.”
A sky-blue screen appeared before each representative, with a crystal-clear button labeled “OK.”
At Fei’er’s cue, the numbers started flashing rapidly. Without much thought, I pressed the button. The number stopped at 7—second-to-last to compete, not bad.
The system instantly published the matchups:
1. Murong Shanshan’s team
2. Melancholy Young Marshal’s team
3. Mad Warrior’s team
4. Undying Legend’s team
5. Little Ant on a Leaf’s team
6. Huashan Hermit’s team
7. Green Veggie Cocoa’s team
8. Reckless Youth’s team
Though I drew the lot, our team’s name still appeared as our captain Xue Han’s in-game name. At least we didn’t run into any familiar faces in the first round, but in the second, we’d have to face Ye Qiu’s team in a decisive battle. Murong Shanshan, meanwhile, was paired up against her old rival—Mad Warrior!
Fei’er promptly announced, “Players not competing in this round, please return to the stands. When it’s your turn, the system will automatically transport you onto the stage. Now, the first match: Murong Shanshan’s team versus Melancholy Young Marshal’s team!”
The rest of us were teleported off the stage, while the ten players competing appeared on it. Fei’er’s flirtatious figure gradually faded, and the system began the countdown.
“3!”
“2!”
“1!”
The match started!
Shadows darted across the stage. Before anyone could react, Murong Shanshan’s sword aura, coupled with a heavy blow, instantly took down the opposing team’s lone priest. Her teammate, the rogue “Sky Stealer,” ambushed and assassinated a low-health mage in just a few strikes. The situation turned one-sided—Melancholy Young Marshal’s team was completely overwhelmed, reduced to two swordsmen and a knight in an instant, while Murong Shanshan’s two mages weren’t to be underestimated either, bombarding the melee classes with a relentless barrage of ice spells.
Three beams of white light flashed onstage—in just three minutes, Murong Shanshan’s team had secured a spot in the final four. Such was the gulf in skill. Despite both being top-16 teams, Melancholy Young Marshal’s squad was simply no match.