No matter how angry the audience was, it was impossible to change the final score, but Count Fastia still sat peacefully on the judges' bench, indifferent.

After two matches, the midday sun was extremely hot, and under the judgment of His Majesty the Emperor, the martial arts tournament entered the halftime stage, and the spectators also left their seats one after another, waiting for the preliminary match in the afternoon three hours later.

During these three hours, there was a hiccup around the morning's grading incident.

Inside the arena tower.

In the room belonging to His Majesty the Emperor, several imperial magnates began to argue, and the central focus was naturally Count Fastia.

The Emperor pinched the stack of letters in his hand, looked at Fastia with a calm face, and sighed, "My dear earl, do you know how much pressure I have endured in order to make you this judge, and now it has only been less than an hour, and several old guys in the imperial capital have sent me letters of complaint, asking me to change the judges, but I can't find any reason to reply, just because of your damn score." ”

"Do you know how much of a loss of face these families have caused by the rating you gave this morning?"

Fastia said lightly: "I don't let them lose face today, tomorrow they will lose the face of the empire and you, Your Majesty." ”

Hearing these words, several important ministers of the empire in the room glanced at each other, and sighed with emotion: In the entire empire, there is no one else except Fastia who dares to contradict His Majesty the emperor in the posture of a mere count.

However, the Emperor was also an extraordinary man, and in the decades since his accession to the throne, this unremarkable emperor has been torn back and forth between the nobility and the church, quietly expanding the power in his hands, and gradually promoting reforms in all aspects of the empire, rejuvenating the holy empire that many observers see as stale and rotten.

Ten years ago, when the imperial capital rebelled, foreign enemies pressed the border, and the empire faced unprecedented internal and external troubles, the emperor personally led the army to defeat hundreds of thousands of elites of dragon spears, and let the entire continent see the strong hand of His Majesty the emperor.

As an extremely intelligent monarch, the Emperor naturally would not be angry with Fastia because of a few complaint letters, not to mention that Fastia, who was born as a commoner, was originally raised by the Emperor, without the secret support of the Emperor, how could Fastia become a legendary sword saint in the mainland in just over ten years?

The Emperor waved his hand in annoyance, "I know, but dear Fastia, you have also seen that not only the nobles, but also my people are not very satisfied with your rating, I know that you don't like to compromise, but sometimes, when it is right to take a step back, can help us move forward two steps in the future, and that's politics, Earl." ”

"If it was at the Imperial Council of Internal Affairs, your words might be right, but at the Martial Arts Conference, this kind of statement is wrong. Fastia's tone was very tough, "Your Majesty, a curved sword cannot cut the spear of a dragon knight, and for the knights who are bound to shoulder the future of the empire, such a performance is completely unsatisfactory to me." ”

"The Marshal told me that the contestants of this session are better than the ones in the past, and I admit that these young men have great potential, but with all due respect, so far I do not see any of them as having the possibility of becoming the next Marshal Morgan, and I am disappointed in that. ”

The Emperor was silent for a moment, then turned his gaze to Morgan, who was sitting in the corner without saying a word.

Feeling the gaze cast by the Emperor, Morgan put down the file in his hand, "Your Majesty and Lord Earl don't worry too much, I believe that the next player on the court, Morning Star, will satisfy you." ”

"Morningstar? The Emperor frowned.

"Four years ago, there was a mysterious young powerhouse who caused a big loss to the Dragonlancers at the Caroli border, and it was rumored that his name was Morning Star, Marshal, could it be him?" Fastia raised an eyebrow.

.........

Three o'clock in the afternoon, Jupiter Colosseum.

Heine stared intently at the arena, "Who's going to be next?"

"It doesn't matter, if it's still the level of the last two games, I don't think it's necessary to watch it. The uncle behind him shook his head and yawned boredly.

"He showed up. ”

Along the stone steps at the bottom of the arena, the figure of the boy appeared at the end of the contestant's pathway, and the sunlight reflected on the hot sand made Constantine behind the mask squint slightly.

In front of him is a circular arena with a diameter of 300 meters, the ancient arena is paved with red hot sand, exuding a hot residual temperature, thousands of years ago, those brave men who moved the countries are stepping on this rolling red sand, under the gaze of tens of thousands of people ushered in their own legends.

Today, will new legends be born?

Constantine looked around with emotion at the huge arena that he had heard many times about as a child.

Father, Mother, Teacher, Siegfried...... Are you watching here?

"I came, I saw, I conquered. The boy clenched his fists and inadvertently uttered the classic quote from the mouth of the epic hero named Nibelungen in the "Epic".

I remember that Heine recited this famous sentence like a madman in the dormitory every day, and Constantine didn't feel much at that time, but today, standing in this arena that has recorded countless generations of legendary figures, surrounded by the eyes of 100,000 people, for the first time in his life, the young man felt the desire and pride of the northern warriors in his blood.

It was the Elliottard family, the guardians of Winterfell, a blood that had been passed down for thousands of years, and even the cold north wind could not freeze it.

For a moment, Constantine had the urge to tear off the silver mask from his face and walk into the arena in a dignified manner.

But the bounty hunter's cautious instinct allowed him to restrain the impulse.

He can't let his identity be easily revealed, that would bring too many unexpected troubles.

Therefore, he can only endure it.

Raising his head and holding the [Morning Light] that had accompanied him for nearly ten years in his hand, Constantine walked out of the shadow of the road, came to the sun, and came to the sight of countless people.

In the Colosseum, countless spectators looked at this ordinarily dressed swordsman with curious eyes, without gorgeous clothes and elegant armor, Constantine only wore a very ordinary civilian dress: brown leather pants and boots, a light blue long-sleeved shirt, a snow-white collar, and the only thing that stood out was the silver mask on his face.

It looks like a provincial traveler coming to Olympia for leisure and leisure, not a knight about to compete.

In this world, probably only those who know the final identity of the boy understand why Constantine wore this color outfit.

Silver arrows, blue iris shields, and brown longbows with snow-white backgrounds form the flag of the Duchy of Azerolia.

The teenager is revealing his identity and intentions to the entire continent in a silent language:

Azeroa, I'm back!