Chapter 1: The Martial Arts Tournament

"Mal Koran? My nephew, you've grown up!" Chekhov said with a smile as he stood up, "How are your parents?"

The two individuals fell into silence once again, as if there were no common language between them. Fortunately, a louder commotion broke this awkwardness. All hands began to wave, and every voice rose in unison, each throat striving to overpower the others in a release of pent-up emotions. Against this chaotic backdrop, a resounding horn sounded, drowning out all other noises. Simultaneously, countless colorful flags suddenly rose around the arena, swaying left and right, nearly obscuring the sky, as the combatants entered the arena. Against this chaotic backdrop, a resounding horn sounded, drowning out all other noises. Simultaneously, countless colorful flags suddenly rose around the arena, swaying left and right, nearly obscuring the sky, as the combatants entered the arena

Are you referring to Grant, who won the tournament last year? Please forgive me, there are too many who now claim to be knights

He is looking for someone! All eyes hurriedly averted from the stern, lightning-like gaze of the Lord God, and even the timid began to tremble. Finally, the Lord God's gaze came to a halt, landing behind Qifu, on Knight Grant!

Once one is squeezed into the crowd, the nightmare has only just begun. The intense pressure makes it nearly impossible to breathe, with someone always pushing from behind. One cannot find solid footing and is compelled to push the person in front, creating a terrifying vicious cycle where almost everyone is being propelled forward by others. Stopping is not an option, and one stumbles forward in this chaotic manner. Even more despicable are the wealthy individuals riding high horses, while the commoners behind can only push against the horse's rear, enduring the stench of manure and risking being kicked by a bad-tempered horse, all the while cursing loudly. This forms a dreadful vicious cycle, where almost everyone is being pushed forward by others, unable to stop, and continuing to stumble ahead.

"Of course," Solaya said coldly. Chiev understood the reason for her indifferent attitude; the Omari Knights' Guild had always been arrogant, and the annual tournament was typically won by members of their own order. However, last year, an unexpected stranger from the Northern Knights' Order had claimed the crown, which was undeniably quite displeasing.

They are indeed correct... Young people always do not know what is right and what is wrong, Chekhov thought to himself

A low chant arose behind Qie Fu, as someone was singing a spell, the voice of Knight Grant

In the sacred sound of the single horn, all gazes were filled with immense respect, perhaps even a hint of reverence, directed towards the divine podium. Even the warriors in the arena knelt partially, placing their hands on their chests, silently praying.

Everyone sat down, still excitedly discussing the lofty deity. For most, this was a lifetime experience, having never witnessed the grandeur of the deity Melania in person, to the extent that the two warriors who had just entered could not capture the crowd's attention, making it seem as if the martial arts competition itself had become secondary. Under the gaze of thousands, Melania remained serene and dignified, exuding elegance without a hint of discomfort from being observed, much like a true goddess. At this moment, the deity Lance stood beside Melania, his hands clasped together and hidden beneath the long wizard's robe. Melania occasionally leaned down to converse with Lance, who merely nodded in response. Only Lance possessed the privilege to engage in such unrestrained dialogue with Melania, unlike other deities who appeared somewhat apprehensive.

Uncle Chekhov, Uncle Chekhov!" he shouted loudly, his face full of joy, and in an instant, he was in front of Chekhov.

The martial arts competition continued, yet at this moment, Qifu was filled with tumultuous emotions, with various thoughts rising and falling in his mind

Mal's head turned towards the main stand, and suddenly, as if burned by fire, he jumped up, pointing there and exclaimed in astonishment: "Good heavens! How is it that someone has run up to the divine stand!"

Chiev's attention began to focus on the neatly marching warriors entering the arena, approximately thirty in number. They were all clad in shining armor, which appeared dazzlingly white from a distance, causing a slight strain on the eyes. A herald was currently reciting the sacred oath to them. Chiev understood that these individuals had been selected through rigorous rounds from various small-scale tournaments, ultimately earning the opportunity to showcase their strength before the supreme deity. Among them, one victor would emerge, and that victor would receive the most precious gift bestowed by the divine: divine might.

Grant ... ... Chekhov wanted to say something, but the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet he could not articulate them. Based on his understanding of the brave Grant, even if a thunderbolt were to strike at his feet, Grant's expression would not be so terrifying.

To be precise, yes, "said Chekhov, "I have a message for Sir Grant, it is news from the Northern Knights' Guild."

Taking this opportunity, Solaya left Chiev and began to greet the nobles who were gradually entering the VIP section. The stands designated for the privileged class were gradually filled with noble knights, wizards dressed in black robes with golden edges, opulent merchants, and influential union leaders. Without exception, they sat confidently and comfortably in their spacious seats, smiling and greeting those around them, reveling in the superiority that their privileges afforded them. At this moment, when one looks at the commoners, who were sweating profusely and crowded together, it was as if they were bursting with pride.

That would be his misfortune, Chekhov thought, but did not say it out loud

Silence! A gentle voice rose from nowhere, overpowering all the noise, spreading far and echoing. The panicked crowd turned their heads in unison, looking towards the main stage

Seeing that Uncle Qie Fu was silent, Ma Er felt puzzled. "Does Uncle Qie Fu also disagree?"

Continue

Upon thinking of this metaphor, Qifu Koran smiled faintly. He was seated on the left side of the main stand, which, unlike the other stone step stands, was furnished with luxurious chairs draped in thick plush cushions, arranged loosely. A few individuals, similarly adorned in splendid attire, sat casually on them, creating a stark contrast with the commoners who were crammed together, shoulder to shoulder, front to back, nearly suffocating. Just as Qifu was looking around, a person seated two rows in front of him turned around, noticed him, smiled briefly, and then stood up to walk towards Qifu.

Today is a special day. Early on, the tranquility that should belong to the morning was shattered, and the restlessness characteristic of the city quickly emerged. Those who slightly enjoy sleeping in would surely be awakened. On the streets, in the alleys, at the corners, footsteps resound everywhere, accompanied by the sound of hooves striking the bluestone pavement, which could drive one mad, as if the entire city were moving. If one were to look out the window at this moment, one would find that the city of Omar is somewhat different from usual, infused with more colors. Overnight, countless beautiful flags have already been fluttering atop various tall buildings, waving in the wind, adorned with divine symbols. Below, a more vibrant flow of various attires forms a torrent: red hats, white hats, yellow hats, wide-brimmed hats, brimless hats, rolled-brim hats, round hats, flat hats, and the whimsical pointed hats unique to magicians. From above, it resembles an exhibition of hats, jostling and crowding together, dazzling to the eyes. These hats are all heading in the same direction, as if propelled by an invisible hand. Those watching from above suddenly come to a realization, shaking off their drowsiness, and even without time for breakfast, they quickly put on their clothes, don their hats, and then disappear into the sea of the crowd.

I know, "Grant furrowed his brow, "Quickly summon him, let him hear your voice."

"The toys of God..." Chekhov murmured

The horn sounded for the third time

"Qifu, long time no see," he said, sitting down in a seat next to Qifu. Qifu felt that this person looked somewhat familiar and soon remembered.

Chiev looked down, observing Mal as he was warming up, appearing somewhat tense. His opponent was a guy who was a head taller and significantly heavier than him. Around the arena, a magical barrier was slowly rising to prevent any accidental harm to the surrounding audience. The announcer made a gesture, signaling the start of the match, and then exited the center of the arena. Instantly, the grand arena fell silent, with everyone holding their breath, their eyes fixed intently on the scene.

"No, no..." Qifu said, trying to conceal his feelings, not wanting to dampen the young man's enthusiasm. "So, have you been training in recent years? Are you aiming to become a knight or a magician?"

The main deity Melania has appeared

At this moment, the main deity Melania regained her former calmness and serenity, slowly sitting down as if nothing had happened, waving her hand downward, leaving a trace of light in the air.

"This is Sir Solaya." Qifu slightly bowed, expressing his respect. Solaya is a senior member of the Omari Knights Guild, which is also the organizer of this grand tournament.

"Indeed, it is the divine Lancelot," Solaya stated with confidence

However, the main deity is right there," Qifu pointed to the main stand and said

"Are you looking for someone?" Soraya asked with concern

Indeed, it is an outstanding achievement; it seems you will perform remarkably well in this competition. At some point, Knight Solaya interjected. Chev, however, shook his head in silence, realizing that Mal had transformed into a typical dandy over the years, indulging in superficial pursuits. He had not grasped the sanctity of the profession and was solely focused on improving his skills.

"Are you injured, Your Excellency?" Solaya asked with concern. At that moment, Chiff noticed that the hem of Grant's robe was stained with drops of blood. Grant instinctively took a step back, trying to conceal the bloodstains on his robe, but this only heightened Chiff's suspicion

Something has happened. Chev was almost certain of it, but aside from the deity, no one could hear what the priest was saying. However, it must have been something truly terrifying, enough to move the supreme deity Melania. At that moment, the god Lance, standing beside Melania, stepped forward as if to say something to her. Melania resolutely waved her hand. With that gesture, most of the people in the arena instinctively knelt down, clutching their heads, for it was known that even a slight movement from Melania could unleash unimaginable destructive power. At that moment, the god Lance, standing beside Melania, stepped forward as if to say something to her. Melania resolutely waved her hand. With that gesture, most of the people in the arena instinctively knelt down, clutching their heads, for it was known that even a slight movement from Melania could unleash unimaginable destructive power.

And now kneeling in the arena is a priest, who, judging by his attire, is of the same rank as the priest of the covenant

Chekhov smiled slightly

The horn sounded for the fourth time, and this time, more than a dozen horns were simultaneously played from all directions, the sound resonating powerfully and majestically throughout the entirety of Omari. At that moment, as if receiving a vocal command, whether commoners or nobles, whether of high status or lowly, whether wealthy or poor, all stood up in unison. Looking around, all hats were removed, and the previously colorful arena instantly transformed into a sea composed of black, yellow, and red hair.

Ma'er, you have not encountered Shen Lansi, have you? I, however, had the fortune of meeting him once, and that was a long time ago

"It is extremely urgent, I must ... ..." At this point, Grant suddenly fell silent, as if there was something he could not reveal.

The Lord God, Melania, suddenly stood up from her seat, losing her usual calmness and composure, anxiously listening to the priest's prayer, her eyes raised to the heavens

Omar is the largest city on the continent. How should we accurately express the concept of "large"? This term itself is ambiguous and complex, yet almost everyone can accept this vague meaning, as if it were a fact. Omar's area is vast, stretching endlessly, with buildings closely packed together, forming a terrifying gray ocean and mountains made of bricks and tiles. The roads are also wide and interconnected, extending out of the city and linking with the surrounding post roads, creating a massive spider web that occupies the center of the continent. Omar is also the most populous and prosperous city, where a variety of people gather, each with different purposes, dreams, and aspirations. The result of this prosperity is restlessness, turning Omar into a veritable melting pot: it serves as a trade center, a cultural hub, a political center, and a gathering place for warriors and mages. Now, you should have a clearer concept of this large city. A so-called "large city" is one filled with chaos, devoid of merit, lacking in character, and absolutely unsuitable for habitation. Of course, Omar is not entirely without merit; at least it is indeed large, and this is something everyone accepts.

In such a situation, Chekhov asked, "I fear..."

Look, your nephew is the first to appear in the arena. " Soraya pointed to the circular area of the arena and said, "I hope he doesn't forget what I advised him; I truly like this little boy

They are all well," said Ma'er, "but there has been no news from you for a long time. I miss you very much and only know that you have arrived in Iceland...

"Please wait patiently, Qifu," Solaya said, "The Lord God will appear. He has promised the Omari Knights' Guild that he will personally bestow divine power upon the victor of the tournament"

"Oh..." Qifu stammered. The Order of Knights of Omari controls the entire Omari and is the most powerful knightly order on the continent. Every year, they spend a vast amount of financial resources to hold the Continental Martial Arts Tournament. In Qifu's view, this tournament is exceedingly boring, merely a foolish way to flaunt power. However, out of respect for Solaya, Qifu found it difficult to voice such thoughts.

Sir Grant was an exceptionally tall man, handsome in appearance, with long golden hair that cascaded down to his shoulders. He was not wearing a knight's armor, nor was he dressed in the formal attire of a knight; instead, he wore a pure white robe, the hem of which brushed the ground. To Chev's astonishment, Grant's complexion was extraordinarily pale, almost devoid of color, and his face was marked by exhaustion, as if he had just endured a terrible blow.

Something must have happened, Chekhov thought

Mar's eyes began to shine, and he even stuttered while speaking, "Divine Might, truly remarkable... There has never been a martial arts competition where Divine Might has appeared... What exactly is Divine Might?"

Grant

Every deity possesses a physical form, that of a human. All gods, before becoming deities, were actually humans, merely endowed with divine power by the Supreme God Melania. Of course, the only exception is the Supreme God Melania, known as the Creator God, who has no physical form

Oh... Grant Knight. Solaya pondered for a moment, gently tapping her head, as if he were an inconsequential figure

"You should go down now, child," Chekhov said with a loving expression. "Good luck to you, though the priest's blessing doesn't really help much."

"I like this child," Soraya said, "I would be very willing to introduce him to the Omari Knights Guild"

"It is him," said Chekhov, "I knew he would definitely appear here."

"I do not like noise..." Chekhov said, glancing at Mar, who stood before him, nearly a head taller than himself. "So, you are also participating in this competition?"

"Poor child..." Chekhov murmured

At that moment, suddenly, with a loud "bang!", the locked gate of the arena was burst open, and a swift horse carrying a passenger galloped into the center of the arena, charging right between two warriors who were engaged in combat. The passenger did not even wait for the horse to come to a stop; amidst the gasps of the crowd, he rolled off the horse and fell to the ground. He lay there in a disheveled state, dust covering his long beard, and did not get up, but instead remained sprawled in the dirt, his head touching the ground, muttering to himself. The passenger did not even wait for the horse to come to a stop; amidst the gasps of the crowd, he rolled off the horse and fell to the ground. He lay there in a disheveled state, dust covering his long beard, and did not get up, but instead remained sprawled in the dirt, his head touching the ground, muttering to himself.

"Uncle, Uncle!" A young man hurriedly rushed onto the stand. He had short golden hair, a handsome face, and appeared somewhat thin. He was very tall but still bore a youthful innocence. Due to his rapid pace, the armor he wore clanked noisily.

As Qie Fu followed the direction of his finger, he noticed a figure on the main platform reserved for the gods, which had appeared there at some unknown time. The person was dressed in a pure yellow wizard's robe, completely enveloped from head to toe, obscuring their features. Instead of sitting in the designated seat for the gods, they casually chose a step to sit on, with their head bowed and remaining silent, as if preoccupied with some thoughts, creating a stark contrast to the surrounding noisy atmosphere

"I heard that the main deity Melania will make an appearance, is that true?" Mal did not notice the gloomy expression on Qie Fu's face and continued to ask with great enthusiasm

"No wonder..." Solaya said with disappointment

At that moment, suddenly, a hand rested on Chekhov's shoulder. Chekhov turned his head and involuntarily stood up.

"Qifu · Kela Priest," Grant forced a smile, his hand still resting on Qifu's shoulder, but it seemed to tremble slightly, "Do me a favor. And the books"

A major event must have occurred, he thought, a major event must have occurred...

Lance continued to speak, seemingly persuading the Lord God. The two exchanged a glance, and Melania nodded. Suddenly, Qifu felt his veins freeze, as the Lord God's head was slowly turning in this direction

The sound of the horn rang out once more, and amidst the deafening cheers, the warriors gathered in the center of the arena dispersed, making their final preparations

Chekhov was taken aback once again, one could say he was startled

"As you command," Chev looked at Grant in astonishment. At this moment, Sir Soraya, who was seated in front, also turned his head, revealing a look of confusion.

The competition has begun! the announcer declared loudly. The sound of the horn ceased, and immediately, an even greater cheer erupted.

The priest is referred to as the "Voice of God". For a long time, priests have undertaken this role; when the people on the continent require divine assistance, they request the priest to pray, and only the voice of the priest can be heard by God, regardless of where God may be. Of course, there are different ranks among priests, and those like Qifu Koran can pray directly to the supreme deity. This is a sacred duty, and priests typically do not summon God for trivial matters, as this would incur severe punishment from God. Of course, there are different ranks among priests, and those like Qifu Koran can pray directly to the supreme deity. This is a sacred duty, and priests typically do not summon God for trivial matters, as this would incur severe punishment from God.

Divine Might

Mar smiled, "Uncle Chekhov, you have fallen behind the times. You, like my parents, still adhere to the so-called worship of professions. Nowadays, it is no longer fashionable to be a magician or a knight; anything that can fight can be learned. In my first few years, I studied combat skills at the Knight's Guild in Omari, and in the following years, thanks to my father's connections and influence, I practiced magic in the underground anti-magic domain of Omari. As a warrior, I have learned everything I needed to know."

As the god of justice and judgment, Lancelot's lofty and reclusive nature is also well known, Chekhov murmured

Summon the Supreme Deity, Melania, now

All the crowds surged towards a towering building, which was a bowl-shaped open-air arena capable of accommodating tens of thousands of people, rising majestically towards the sky, so much so that all the people flowing there were drawn in, disappearing completely. From a bird's-eye view, it could be seen that the vast arena was almost filled to capacity, with millions of hands waving, millions of heads twisting, and millions of mouths roaring. One might imagine it as a gigantic iron pot of the gods, filled with the food known as humanity. Due to the heat, the tens of thousands of morsels within this iron pot were being fiercely fried, producing a terrifying din.

I truly do not know..." Chekhov said softly, "I have just arrived..."

Of course. "Soraya took the floor, "Perhaps you can also receive the divine power bestowed by the Supreme Deity Melania."

"Rest assured, those who can reach that place are certainly not ordinary people," Solaya said with a smile. "You will know soon enough; that main viewing platform is shrouded in an anti-magic field, making it inaccessible to the average person." As if to corroborate his words, several individuals suddenly appeared on the divine viewing platform, all dressed in pure black wizard robes, seemingly materializing out of thin air. They chose their seats and settled in, yet none greeted the divine Lance; they merely exchanged quiet nods of acknowledgment among themselves.

However, I did not see your parents...

Catch him! The first to react, Soraya, jumped up and lunged at Grant, but she was still a step too late, missing her target. Grant's teleportation spell took effect instantly, and he vanished without a trace.

"I understand," said Ma'er, and hurriedly walked down, waving to the two esteemed seniors, quickly disappearing beneath the stands

In the month of March, the sun shines brightly, and the weather is warm and pleasant

"Yes, Shenwei," said Solaya, closing her mouth at this point, wearing an inscrutable expression. Qifu also fell silent; the term itself was imbued with a sacred significance that made one hesitant to discuss it further

Chev's heart sank again; it was a priest just like him

This year's martial arts competition is the most grand one yet, " Solaya said lightly, but Chiev could still detect the pride that she could not conceal.

This time, even the Supreme Deity will be present to observe the competition

I just find it strange why there are still so few people here. Chekhov pointed to the surrounding area, which is the exclusive viewing platform for the privileged class

But that is just an ordinary person, Mal said softly

Chieff began to look around again, clearly searching for someone. Soraya continued to watch him politely until he felt embarrassed.

The main deity, Melania, gently stepped onto the main platform, and then his outstretched wings slowly disappeared. He stood there, glanced around slightly, and then solemnly took his seat on the golden throne specially prepared for him. Melania did not speak, resting his hand on the armrest of the chair, and gave a slight nod.

Of course. Seeing the usually indifferent priest of Chiv, Solaya could no longer contain her triumphant smile, "The glory of God is everywhere, may Melania bless us"

At that moment, Mar's expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly regained the vitality of youth. "They... actually do not agree with my participation in the martial arts tournament... However, I have grown up, and I can make my own decisions."

"The Supreme Deity, Melania?" This time, Qifu was truly astonished, "Are you referring to the Creator God, Lady Melania?"

Chiev turned his head towards the main stand, which remained empty, with only a few large, ornate chairs. The central high chair was surprisingly made of pure gold

"You also need to pay attention to your tactics," Solaya reminded. "If you want to win in the end, I suggest that you refrain from using your sword and shield at first. Observe your opponent's movements and free your hands to cast paralysis magic. If you can paralyze your opponent first, you will have already achieved victory"

Suddenly, the entire arena erupted like a boiling pot, with a cacophony of voices, cries for help, and even some people began to flee, trampling over one another, while horrifying screams filled the air

At that moment, Solaya deliberately displayed a look of surprise and almost exaggeratedly asked, "Do you mean... you don't know? The entire Omari is abuzz with it. Look at those people below," Solaya gestured downward, pointing at the densely packed commoners, who were suffering and crowded together, eagerly looking up, "Most of them have come to catch a glimpse of the Lord God."

In an instant, the entire arena fell into a deathly silence, all eyes turned in unison towards the main stand, as if the most unbelievable event had just occurred. Qifu also looked over, and his heart nearly stopped.

"I really didn't expect you to be here, Uncle Chekhov," the young man said excitedly, a few beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his face flushed, exuding vitality. "I saw you down there at a glance, and I couldn't believe it was real. As soon as the oath was over, I rushed over, and I can't believe it really is you!"

He seemed to suddenly materialize from mid-air, surrounded by a soft glow that enveloped a blurred figure. The glow slowly descended onto the main platform, where all the gods stood solemnly to one side, hands clasped together, heads bowed. As one drew closer, the fortunate could see within the glow a translucent, crystal-like armor flickering in and out of view. Strictly speaking, it was not armor, but rather an outer garment made of a hard material resembling armor, layered and shrouded in light, ethereal and mysterious; this light was clearly not a reflection of sunlight, but more dazzling than the sun's rays, yet not blinding, gently radiating outward like mist. Due to this light, the face of the goddess Melania was obscured in darkness, with only the exquisite contours resembling a sculpture faintly visible. Behind the goddess Melania were seven outstretched silver wings, which seemed to possess life of their own, constantly swaying and also emanating a beautiful and warm glow. Due to this light, the face of the goddess Melania was obscured in darkness, with only the exquisite contours resembling a sculpture faintly visible. Behind the goddess Melania were seven outstretched silver wings, which seemed to possess life of their own, constantly swaying and also emanating a beautiful and warm glow.

"No one knows except Melania," Soraya said with a smile, feeling quite satisfied as she observed Mal's expression.

Yes, I have qualified... It is truly wonderful to see you here. With Uncle Qifu present, I feel even more confident," said Ma, happily wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Moreover, most deities rarely manifest miracles and are accustomed to appearing in the form of mortals in the human realm, Solaya interjected. The God Lancelot is one such deity; of course, this does not diminish his status as the second most esteemed god on the continent, following Melania.

Mal glanced at the person quietly sitting on the steps, still harboring some doubts