Count Atlas was Chinese New Year's Eve at the age of thirty or seventeen, which is the most golden age of a man's life. He sat majestically on the throne that belonged to him, with his head bowed and not knowing what he was thinking.

The most trusted favored servant of King Greaves was speechless at the moment, and seemed out of place with the lively and cheerful surroundings, and none of the attendants beside him dared to approach the current Earl, for no one knew whether his recklessness would lead to an unwarranted disaster.

While the poor and faithful servants were whispering about who had upset the lord, a stocky man appeared in the stands. If you can see him with your own eyes, you will definitely see that this is a cheerful, cheerful, ruddy-faced, and sturdy man for the first time. He had a tall belly and looked enthusiastic.

Seriously inconsistent with his appearance is his brilliant achievements, his name is famous in the whole of Djerkhara and even the entire kingdom of Rhodok, "War Maniac" Malgus!

It was when he was still a young man that an unprecedented war broke out between the kingdoms of Rhodok and Svadia, and in an encounter with the Svadians, he had only a hundred spearmen and fifty crossbowmen to block the charge of nearly three hundred heavy cavalry in Svadia, and he became famous ever since. He performed well in his later war career, and was personally awarded the title of "War Maniac" by His Majesty King Greaves of Rhodoc.

Our Mr. "War Maniac" is now forty-two years old, and he no longer has the momentum of the Golden Iron Horse of the past, but his innate bearing has reached the pinnacle. Wherever he was, his seemingly innate, dignified and dignified actions amazed all of them.

Even the master of Djerkhara was not rude in front of him, and Count Atlas had to politely greet the "war maniac" of the kingdom with a strong spirit.

Although he was very curious about what had happened to Atlas, Malgus did not pretend to be clever enough to ask, this is his art of being a human being - if others don't say it, they will never ask.

He sat down next to a teenager, about sixteen years of age, with long black hair that only Kugit had. Even though Marcus didn't know the child, he patted the boy on the shoulder warmly, like a kind elder.

The child smiled shyly, not looking at any intention of greeting him. Malgus didn't care about the child's faux pas, he had seen all kinds of people in his forty-plus years of life, and he didn't feel any discomfort about such trivial things.

The child looked curiously at the crowd around him, his eyes turning around. Suddenly, an unexplained palpitation welled up in her heart, and she didn't know where the feeling came from, but when she searched carefully, it disappeared again.

There was a sound of footsteps behind him, and a strong, clean, well-combed young man with perfume and carefully dressed up appeared in the stands: Du Wei, the eldest son of Count Atlas and the future heir of Djerkhara.

He wore a gold necklace around his neck, a beautiful gold pendant underneath, and a finely carved gold ring on his finger. His every move reveals unparalleled chic and luxurious.

He bent down and respectfully saluted the "war maniac" in his seat, and cast his gaze to the young man next to him under the approving gaze of Marcus.

"Elena? Why are you here? ”

"Brother, be quiet, don't let others find out, I'll watch for a while! I'll be gone in a moment! The boy pleaded bitterly.

Du Wei sighed in annoyance, ignored his naughty sister, and turned to his father, who had to discuss how to solve the recent difficulties, instead of wasting his energy on such inconsequential trivialities.

Marcus looked at the "boy" beside him with a strange expression, and instead of pretending not to notice what was happening, he looked intently at the open space in the middle, as if a wonderful game had already begun there.

The "boy" let out a long sigh of relief when he saw that no one bothered him at all, and began to look at the crowd on the stone steps with great interest again.

Charles and the caravan guards sat in the row closest to the grounds, and G&D graciously ordered a cream-filled snack for each of them, which tasted delicious.

In fact, this is also a common practice, every time there is such a grand event, it is a good opportunity for these small businessmen to make a fortune. The arena was full of loud hawkers, and the vendors who peddled all kinds of snacks to the spectators sold out of their baskets in a few moments. The fat businessman named Rael slammed his thigh in annoyance, regretting that he hadn't seized the opportunity.

The spectators sitting on the stone steps all brought all kinds of snacks, and they laughed and shared the food in their hands, large pieces of cured meat, fiery persimmons, and long enemas were constantly passed in people's hands, and everywhere was a lively and cheerful look.

G&D was eating so much that his hands were stained with oil. Charles looked at the man who was indulging in food and felt a little envious, and he wanted to eat in front of the public without any scruples like him, but he couldn't.

Several drink vendors approached Charles, complimenting Charles, who was clearly the leader, with very uninelegant quips, and pouting Charles to buy their drinks.

Charles also felt a little thirsty, and took out two Septins and handed them to the vendor, taking six bottles of "the best wine" from his hand.

He handed the extra bottle to the caravan guards around him, looked around and saw that no one was noticing, so he picked up the bottle and put it in his mouth. He barely threw the bottle into the hands of the man in front of him after taking only one sip. These black-hearted peddlers actually pour inferior sour wine into high-end wine bottles to fool people.

Charles stood up angrily, but the vendors had long since disappeared into the bustling crowd without a trace.

The "elites" of the upper districts of Djerkhara had also arrived at this time, and unlike the commoners, who had to take their seats early in the morning, their servants had already taken care of everything for them, and they just had to sit down safely under the protection of the guards. These dignitaries and, at all, those from aristocratic families, all deliberately sat alone away from the commoners, and they deliberately displayed a conspicuous nobility, and carried out conversations that the commoners were destined to not understand.

In normal times, women are not allowed to appear in public, but under the conditions of the athletic games, all girls are allowed by the family to participate in such events in the company of their families.

So, the dressed gentlemen were active like peacocks near the stone steps where the ladies were seated, and they spoke poetic words in a subdued voice, which attracted bursts of praise from time to time.

After a secret meeting with his eldest son, Count Atlas seemed to be in good spirits, and he raised his glass, the ruby on which glistened in the sunlight.

Everyone was silent at this time, listening carefully to what the master of Djerkhara had to say.

But Count Atlas didn't say anything, just raised the glass to his mouth with a smile, and nodded at the mayor below.

A short command followed, and the crowd erupted in cheers. There was a round of applause from the stands—faint and sparse at first, then louder and more neat, reverberating throughout the arena.

People invariably turned their eyes to the center of the venue, staring at the wooden door in the venue with expectant eyes.

The athletic tournament has begun!