Chapter 179: Tournament Arc: Willow The Maiden (1)

"Allow me to share it with you then," he said. "It's a simple fable about a tortoise and a hare who decide to race each other. The hare, being faster and more confident in his abilities, takes an early lead and becomes complacent. Meanwhile, the tortoise, steady and determined, keeps moving forward, never giving up. In the end, it's the tortoise who wins the race, surprising everyone with his tenacity."

The Duke listened attentively, seemingly amused by the simplicity of the tale. "A children's fable, I presume?" he remarked.

"Indeed, many consider it as such," [The Merchant] leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Many dismiss it as a mere children's story," he explained, "but I believe it carries a deeper meaning. In life, we often encounter situations where the obvious choice, the one with apparent power, doesn't always guarantee victory. Sometimes, it's the overlooked, the underestimated, who possess the true strength to prevail."

Duke Aryan furrowed his brows, considering [The Merchant]'s words. "So, you believe that someone unexpected could triumph in this Tournament?" he asked.

"Exactly," [The Merchant] replied with a nod. "A competitor with skills and abilities that go beyond what meets the eye. Power can be deceptive, and true strength lies not only in raw might but in the ingenuity of the mind and the subtlety of influence."

The Duke harrumphed, still grappling with the concept. He settled into his royal seat, which was placed beside [The Merchant]'s VIP seat. A silent contemplation consumed him as he pondered what [The Merchant] had insinuated.

In the lower realms, where power struggles and political machinations were rife, the Duke had always relied on his might and cunning to secure his influence.

The Duke's eyes bore into [The Merchant] with a mix of amusement and skepticism. Did the merchant actually think that there would be someone, a weak and unknown contestant, who could challenge and win against the established strong? Nay! The Duke refused to accept such a thought, for it went against his deeply ingrained philosophy where the strong were the strong, and the weak were the weak. That was the natural rule and order of the world, no matter which world they inhabited. Besides, he needed it to be true because otherwise his actual plans for the Tournament would go awry.

"[Merchant], you speak of possibilities and hidden strength, but let us not forget the undeniable truth," the Duke retorted, his voice laced with conviction. "In the end, it is the strong who dominate the weak, and power prevails."

[The Merchant] leaned back in his seat, seemingly unperturbed by the Duke's dismissive stance. "Ah, Duke Aryan, I understand your perspective well," he replied calmly. "The world often favors the powerful, but I have seen many a tale where the underdog defies all odds and triumphs against expectations."

The Duke raised an eyebrow, curious despite himself. "Is that so?" he inquired.

"Indeed," [The Merchant] said.

The Duke's expression softened slightly, intrigued by [The Merchant]'s perspective, even if he couldn't fully embrace it. "You have seen such feats before?" he asked.

"A few," [The Merchant] replied, "in my long travels across worlds and realms, I have encountered individuals who surpassed their limits, shattering the boundaries set by others. Such moments are rare, but when they occur, they leave an indelible mark on history."

The Duke's mind whirled with conflicting thoughts. On one hand, he held steadfast to his belief in the supremacy of strength and power. On the other, [The Merchant]'s words planted a seed of doubt, urging him to consider the unpredictable nature of destiny.

While the Duke grappled with his thoughts, [The Merchant] simply observed, knowing that seeds of doubt had been sown. In the realm of gods and demons, where ambition and cunning entwined, the balance of power could shift in an instant, and those who underestimated the underdogs might find themselves facing an unforeseen outcome.

And, he had seen this exact situation too, many times.

As the Duke and [The Merchant] continued their silent contemplation, they were suddenly interrupted by a commotion nearby. A man, as short as a dwarf, dressed in expensive clothing, stood atop a flying rock, holding a microphone-like object.

With charisma and flair, he introduced himself as [MC], the Master of Ceremonies for the Tournament.

"Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats and brace yourselves!" [MC] bellowed, his voice resonating through the colosseum. "For today, we witness the convergence of the strong, the bold, and the powerful—all gathered in one place, in this monumental [Tournament]!"

The crowd roared with excitement as [MC] expertly hyped them up. He was a master of ceremonies, a showman who knew how to ignite the fervor of the spectators.

"Are you ready to witness battles of epic proportions?" [MC] cried out. "To see warriors clash and magic ignite? The [Tournament] is about to begin!"

The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as [MC] explained the rewards that awaited the winners. He spoke of 20 Gold Coins, a fortune in itself, but for the likes of The Sage, Brutal King, The Silver Elf, and the Crimson Death, such wealth was commonplace.

Then, [MC] mentioned something that piqued the interest of the powerful figures. The reward of Phoenix's Tears—a rare and potent substance known for its ability to heal even the gravest of injuries. Such a treasure could extend one's life, granting near-immortality, an allure that even the most formidable beings found enticing.

But it was the third reward that truly captured their attention—the opportunity for an audience with the enigmatic host of the Tournament, [Duke Aryan]. To the outside world, the Duke may have been exiled, but among the powerful elite, he still held tremendous sway. A private audience with him was a coveted chance to gain favor, influence, and perhaps uncover the secrets that shrouded him.