In the end, the old man naturally bought the pearl.
According to him, the pearl was a rare jewel for most people, but it was a rare treasure for astrologers, and could be used to construct a Veluriyam Orb to observe the stars in the skies.
"I lost."
Gerald said dejectedly after the old man left.
However, he was only disappointed that his eyesight was wrong. Apart from that, there was nothing else.
After all, he didn't think that he would lose to the subordinate of a traveling merchant.
He wouldn't dare to claim that he was the strongest in all of Lancaster, not to mention that he wasn't even in the top three among the city guards and knights. Still, there was no doubt that he had trained since he was young compared to a normal person.
On the day Gerald finished his apprenticeship three years ago, his teacher had told him that he was no weaker than a bishop.
As a warrior adept at close-range combat and speed, he could instakill a bishop of the Church of the Seven Divine Fathers without getting hurt if he wasn't too far away from his enemy!
Surely a mere traveling merchant's subordinate couldn't be stronger than a bishop, could he?
Little did he know that Marni had already arranged everything for him in his mind.
'Level 35, higher than the Rotten Bones Archbishop, but a normal template and not even an elite monster …' Marni thought disdainfully as he glanced at the text over Gerald's head.
Even if he had died a lot, his money ability still kept him on the tail of the top Players, allowing him to cross the threshold of Level 40.
Logically speaking, he could beat up that young man who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth even if he did it himself. Still, even if he didn't believe it now, Marni was a little frightened by his unlucky physique that could turn miraculous into rotten.
If something were to happen to him in the end and he was hammered to death by this guy, wouldn't he become a joke among the players?
With that thought in mind, Marni had agreed to let Gerald fight his' subordinate 'instead of fighting himself when he signed the contract.
"Where's your subordinate? Let him come, he doesn't have to go anywhere else. Don't worry, the outcome would be decided in the yard outside … "
Gerald was still yelling, while Marni confirmed through the Player forums that his reinforcements had arrived.
"He'll be here soon. Please wait for a moment."
Just as expected, there was a strange commotion outside the door soon after Marni said that.
Then, a strange figure appeared at the door.
It was a man with four limbs that looked no different from an ordinary person. He was holding an extraordinarily long and slender single-edged sword in his hand.
However, there seemed to be something wrong with his head. He was wearing a pink flatfish mask, and at first glance, it looked as if his entire head had been swallowed by the flatfish. It was indescribably strange …
In sight that only the Players could see, the name 'Mufasa' floated above the flatfish's tail.
"… I'm not asking you to dress normally, but could you please dress normally in a serious situation like this?" Marni whispered to the flatfish. "At least take off that funny hood!"
"But I refuse! This was the Perfect Flatfish Head Mask with a taunt effect that I had gotten from the Golden World Prize Pool in the previous event. It was the only one among all players! So many people want it but can't get it! " Mufasa refused without hesitation, his voice full of smugness. "Moreover, it's just fighting a Level 35 lackey. It's not like we're doing some grand quest, and it wouldn't take much effort."
Marni thought about it and found that Mufasa had a point.
Since the Players' idiotic nature would eventually be exposed to the bigwigs of Lancaster, he could just leave it to him for now …
Since both sides believed that it would be a one-sided fight, neither of them had the intention to go to the training field, and would settle it in the courtyard instead.
Gerald, on the other hand, felt that Mufasa's hood was too idiotic and disrespectful to himself and the master he served. That was why he intended to teach Mufasa a lesson in battle.
As a city guard knight who had received an elite education since young, Gerald knew very well the importance of calmness in battle.
Even if he hadn't reached the level of 'unflinching', he wouldn't be easily provoked into a rage.
Be that as it may, for some reason, whenever Mufasa wore a flatfish mask and saw the pair of dead fish eyes on his head, an evil flame would ignite in Mufasa's heart, incessantly provoking and scorching his heart, giving him the urge to blow him up.
Driven by this impulse, after symbolically probing and observing his opponent for a moment, he took the initiative to attack.
But it was meaningless.
No matter how he attacked, Mufasa would always parry his blows easily.
Mufasa even had the time to say things like 'Danger' doesn't even appear. You're really a noob ', and while Gerald didn't understand what it meant, it was clearly a taunt.
Gerald couldn't help quickening the pace of his attacks. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, clanging as if metals were being forged.
But even now, he couldn't even graze the corner of Mufasa's clothes after swinging his sword so many times.
Gerald had never experienced such a battle. It was as if everything he did was useless and a waste of strength.
"Do you only know how to parry?!" Gerald barked in exasperation. "Coward!"
Then, his longsword was easily deflected by Mufasa and sent flying with a kick. He rolled twice on the ground before crashing into a wall, gasping and closing his eyes.
"Do you admit defeat?" Flatfish asked.
"Admit defeat, my ass!"
Gerald, who had calmed down a little due to the pain, was once again overwhelmed by his lust. He picked up the longsword beside him and charged forward to fight again.
But this time, he was defeated even faster.
His own sword was easily deflected, while Mufasa's blade was pressed against his neck like a viper in the very next second.
"To be fair, your swordsmanship isn't bad." Flatfish's tone was no different from before — there wasn't even a hint of panting, as if he had done some insignificant warm-up. "But your swordsmanship was forged from constant training every day and sparring with your seniors and teachers, wasn't it? This kind of swordsmanship that has never been tempered by the danger of death, without the slightest hint of blood and pain, without awareness and perseverance, can't hurt me. "
"A mere peasant … and how many times have you died?!" Gerald asked, unconvinced.
"The number of deaths I've experienced? I've long since forgotten about that. " Flatfish sheathed his sword and said coolly, "Who remembers how many slices of bread they've eaten?"
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Chapter 250
A sword that doesn't even have the word 'danger' can't hurt me! "
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