Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

The thick, earthy-yellow energy field piled up layer upon layer, covering the sky and almost submerging Windsordler.

Windsordler remained calm, her pupils showing no sign of panic. Just as the destructive torrent was about to engulf her, Windsordler moved.

Those magnificent and stunning silver wings now revealed extraordinary precision and power. The slender wing bones trembled slightly, and a lateral lift force perpendicular to the flow of violent energy was suddenly generated.

Driven by this force, the wingtip drew a sharp silver arc.

Immediately afterwards, with her exquisite perception and control, Windsordler spotted a barely perceptible weak point on the edge of the destructive torrent.

Her elegant and light body was like a leaf swirling in a raging storm, clinging to the edge of a destructive torrent.

A flash of silver light disappeared in an instant, and with an extreme horizontal shift followed by a side spin, it nimbly glided to the outside of the shock wave.

A destructive, earthy-yellow torrent, accompanied by a muffled roar, grazed her wingtips and crashed into the protective barrier at the edge of the distant arena, stirring up a heart-pounding ripple of energy and a deep, resounding boom.

Smoke and magical elements splattered everywhere.

And right at the heart of this shattering and chaos, Windsordler's figure had been repositioned.

Without the slightest stumble or sway, it was like a silver moon calmly suspended above a storm after a tempest.

A tall and slender figure hovered in mid-air, its delicate yet powerful wings fully outstretched, displaying a perfect symmetrical arc.

Its entire body radiated a cool and holy silver glow, as if it could cleanse away all the filth and dust from the mortal world.

Her exquisite face remained aloof, her icy blue pupils devoid of emotion, radiating only an elegance and tranquility that commanded the sky.

The deafening noise, shouts, and screams around the arena seemed to be suddenly gripped by an invisible hand.

Countless viewers were stunned by the beautiful scene, which was like a goddess descending to earth.

It was as if I had witnessed the goddess of mythology, who was in charge of the sky and judgment, descending in person to the mortal arena.

That cool, elegant, deadly, and otherworldly beauty impacts every soul.

The atmosphere was much more subtle in the VIP section represented by Effie.

Looking at Windsordale, who seemed like a goddess descending to earth, Melantha, who had been watching the battle, raised her eyebrows almost imperceptibly.

Her red lips curved into a slightly amused smile, and her beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, as if she had remembered something interesting.

He whispered in a tone that was a mix of mockery and languidness that only Cohen beside him could hear:
"It's pretty cool. I thought this elf's wings could only be used for... um... certain 'high-difficulty' moves in bed... Ugh, why are you covering my mouth? Am I wrong?"

Cohen looked embarrassed and lowered his voice:

"Don't talk nonsense in public. There are so many ears around. Grandma, you should watch your tone."

He glanced around quickly, as if he were doing something wrong, but thankfully the deafening cheers provided the best cover.

Melanie protested with two indistinct "woof woof" sounds, and finally managed to break free from Cohen's grasp.

She pursed her lips and muttered under her breath:
"I'm just stating the facts..."

Just as she broke free from Cohen's gag, Belmody, who was sitting a little further away and still immersed in the afterglow of the battle, keenly caught her sister's subtle muttering.

Turning her head, those purple eyes, seemingly capable of seeing into people's hearts, locked onto the two of them:
"What was the Princess of Windsor doing on the bed?"

Melantha blushed slightly when her sister asked about it.

In her mind, Belmody was an elder to her and Cohen, and she couldn't possibly delve into such private topics between men and women.

He quickly laughed it off and tried to smooth things over, while Cohen also chimed in to cover it up.

However, Belmody clearly didn't believe it, his gaze fixed meaningfully on Cohen's face, his eyes filled with a complex mix of "I understand now," "Young people really know how to play," and "Explain it to me in detail next time."

Back on the arena, Darkness, the ancient war god who seemed to have stepped out of an ancient totem, was also momentarily stunned by the stunning scene before him.

That momentary lapse in concentration could be fatal on the stage of a noble martial arts festival.

Taking advantage of the brief moment when Darkness was stunned, a cold glint flashed deep in Windsordler's icy blue eyes.

Her slender fingers quickly spread open, and her long, fair fingertips danced gently in a unique rhythm, as if drawing in an invisible wind.

Immediately afterwards, an extremely dazzling light spread from her palm, outlining the shape of a bow in the air—

Its flawless, streamlined arc shape is composed entirely of the purest wind elements, containing billions of tiny cyclones flowing at incredible speeds in every part.

The surface of the bow seemed to be covered with a layer of flowing liquid starlight, sometimes displaying a cold, shimmering glow like moonlight, and sometimes returning to a near-ethereal transparency.

The entire bow exudes an indescribable sense of powerful beauty, so light as to seem weightless, yet containing the immense power of a storm capable of tearing mountains apart.

Its very existence is the embodiment of the ultimate wind, a perfect testament to the winged elves' control over the sky.

This longbow, formed in an instant, hung silently at Windsordler's fingertips.

Together with her cool and aloof face and magnificent silver wings, they form a stunning picture symbolizing the judgment of the heavens.

Just as everyone was lost in thought, the bowstring trembled slightly, emitting a clear, icy sound as ice shattered.

A dazzling, pure, and ethereal silver arrow, accompanied by a piercing shriek that seemed to tear through space, pierced the tip of Darkness's bone club with unparalleled precision in the blink of an eye.

The latter had no time to react at all.

Immediately afterwards, a dull yet clear sound, like a giant bubble bursting, was heard.

The earth dragon phantom that had been gathered around Darkness instantly crumbled, and the raging ley line energy scattered like a runaway wild horse.

The bone club in Darkness's hand is like a conduit for the power of the totem. When the bone club is attacked, Darkness's power immediately goes out of control.

"Ugh—!"

Darkness let out a painful roar, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot.

His monstrous ferocity was fully ignited, his thick arms bulging with muscles like intertwined steel wires, forcefully suppressing the backlash of excruciating pain and the tremendous vibrations of the weapon.

The ochre-red totem on its back, belonging to a giant bear, and the dark gold patterns of a raging lion on its arms, suddenly shone with a dazzling light, like a branding iron.

Power, pure and savage power, once again filled his entire body.

Without pausing for a moment, his enormous feet, like battering rams, stomped fiercely on the arena floor.

The arena beneath their feet shattered with a crash, and several stalagmites, each three or four meters in diameter and with jagged stone spikes covering their edges, pierced through the floor and shot into the sky like the fangs of a bloodthirsty ancient earth dragon.

At the same time, the bone club had been swung into a deadly fan-shaped windmill. Darkness's massive body, under the reaction force of the trampling, was like a siege ballista fired from its barrel, carrying immense momentum as it fiercely pounced into the sky.

In mid-air, the silvery light of Windsordler's wings surged.

Instead of taking to the air to avoid it, she went straight to meet it head-on.

We glided down at a breathtaking angle along the outermost stalagmite.

It moved so fast that it left only a trail of rapidly flowing silver light in the viewer's eyes.

In that instant of swooping down, the bowstring emitted three short, consecutive, soft tremors.

Three arrows!
Three arrows made of pure wind element, moving at a speed far exceeding Darkness's ascent, struck precisely the three lit totems on Darkness's body.

puff!puff!puff!
There was no earth-shattering explosion, only three muffled sounds, like the puncture of a giant airbag.

Those were the three energy hubs where the totem warrior's full power converged.

The moment the arrow pierced through, the raging totem's power, like a giant beast whose blood vessels had been forcibly choked, abruptly ceased.

The dazzling ochre and dark gold light flickered as if short-circuited, then quickly dimmed and went out.

Darkness's ferocious charge came to an abrupt halt, its massive body seemingly losing all power, and it shuddered violently in mid-air.

Just as his strength collapsed, his movements froze, and his body was exposed, Windsordler had already descended to a low altitude diagonally below him.

Without any pause, a more refined, pure, and destructive silver-white arrow silently appeared on the bowstring.

The action of drawing the bow was faster than the transmission of thought.

A silver ray of light pierced through the momentarily frozen space and precisely entered the center of Darkness's chest, which was wide open due to the sudden interruption of power.

The speed was so fast that it was stretched into an extremely thin silver thread.

In the next instant, Darkness's massive body crashed down like a puppet with its strings cut, slamming heavily into the center of the already torn and mangled arena below.

Dust drifted and settled above the shattered arena.

Windsordler fell silently from the sky, landing lightly on the edge of the ring.

The silver wings behind him slowly folded, and his icy blue eyes remained cold as he swept over the opponents in the deep pit who were no longer capable of fighting.

Darkness Ego slowly rose to his feet, kneeling amidst the rubble and scorching energy marks.

Its massive body trembled slightly, and deep shock and bewilderment lingered in its eyes.

Too fast...

The enemy's arrows were moving at speeds far exceeding the limits of Darkness's muscle and nerve reaction speed.

He vividly recalled that fleeting yet eternal moment in his mind; even with his current precautions, he was utterly unable to withstand the arrows.

Darkness slowly raised the remaining half of the handle and a small section of charred bone fragment as a tribute to the warrior.

"Eifine, 'Elf Ranger' Windsorwinder wins, with 3 points."

As the referee announced the victory.

The gazes of the audience below, initially drawn by Windsordler's stunning beauty and goddess-like presence, gradually transformed into deep awe and genuine admiration.

The battle ended so quickly that it gave the illusion that it was over before it even began.

Windsordler's composed demeanor, as if strolling leisurely, defusing her opponent's fierce attacks, and her decisive final strike, all demonstrated her formidable strength. Darkness's earth-shattering power was evident to all; he was also a highly regarded figure in the Eastern Empire, widely recognized as having the ability to challenge for a place in the top sixteen.

Defeating him was already difficult enough, but Windsordler won so easily.

In addition, Windsordler's illustrious status as a former cabinet minister of the Central Empire and a disciple of the Holy Archmage Victor, coupled with his profound background in the Central Empire, naturally gave him extremely high prestige and support among the general public.

Although she was now under the banner of Effie and had become his queen.

However, after Her Majesty the Empress publicly announced the engagement, the vast majority of ordinary citizens subconsciously regarded Effie as an integral part of the empire's vast territory.

Therefore, the glory brought by this victory is no different from the glory of "our" empire to the audience, and the sense of pride in sharing in it needs no further explanation.

Waves of applause and cheers rose and fell in the direction of Effie.

Amidst this celebratory atmosphere, the high-ranking officials in the core area of ​​the Central Empire's VIP section also wore polite smiles.

Prime Minister Hayes' smile deepened. He turned slightly to the side and raised his glass to Foreign Secretary Beren Windrunner, who was seated beside him, his voice filled with undisguised approval:
"His Highness Windsor's strength is indeed formidable. I am familiar with this totem warrior of the Eastern Empire."

He definitely has the strength to reach the top sixteen. Your Highness's easy victory over him means you should have no problem advancing.

Beren offered a few polite words of modesty, but an untimely voice rang out from the side:

"What a pity, it would be great if I could represent our Central Empire in battle."

Beren Windrunner's smile froze instantly, then turned grim. Prime Minister Hayes' smile also faded considerably, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly, revealing a hint of displeasure.

To say such things in this context, after Windsordler's recent victory, is extremely inappropriate and practically ruins the atmosphere; the intention behind it is also quite intriguing.

Before the two could react, Chief Heisenberg, who was not far away, spoke up:

"Director Oberon, His Highness Windsordler has never been a citizen of the Central Empire."

She holds a public office in the Empire because of her outstanding talent and the Empire's needs, as well as out of respect for His Majesty.

Who she represents is her personal will and choice.

We bear the heavy responsibility entrusted to us by the empire, and every word and deed we make represents the empire's magnanimity and breadth of vision.

Please, Director, refrain from making such remarks again.

The one who interrupted just now was Ignatius Oberon, the director of the Magical Resources Management Committee of the Upper House of the Noble House.

Since Chief Executive Heisenberg had already personally reprimanded them, Prime Ministers Beren and Hayes could not say anything more.

The three high-ranking officials of the empire exchanged glances, their eyes briefly meeting, and a tacit understanding was reached.

This quickly smoothed over the unpleasant incident.

The shockwaves from the second arena had barely subsided when the horns of victory echoed from the fourth arena.
Isabella also successfully defeated her opponent, adding another resounding victory to Effie's tally.

In the area where Effie was located, the long-suppressed excitement finally found an outlet.

Cheers and excited whispers filled the air between the seats.

Regardless of the controversy surrounding Isabella and Windsordler's backgrounds, at this moment, they represent Effie.

Two players won the first round of the group stage, which boosted the morale of the country.

However, while some bask in glory, others are mired in shadow.

While almost all the first round matches of the group stage have been settled, with wins, losses, and points recorded on the screen, there is still one arena where fierce competition continues.

It was Cohen's group, number one.

The number one arena still drew many eyes, and the air was filled with a tense atmosphere of stalemate and uncertainty.

This was the longest and most dramatic battle of the first round.

Finally, amidst countless closely following gazes, a decisive energy surge erupted on the number one arena.

The dazzling magical light and the cold metallic clang abruptly ceased.

The result was frozen.

However, this result immediately made Prince Violet of the Northern Empire, who was watching the game from the VIP seats, look very unhappy.

Because the losing side in this match was a player from the Northern Empire.

He was fighting a "mechanical sorcerer" from the Kingdom of Taren.

In the assessment of the Northern Empire and even all empires, this should have been a match with no suspense whatsoever.

As a result, the highly anticipated fighter from the North, after displaying a breathtakingly powerful aura and superb fighting skills at the start, seemed to sink into an incredibly viscous quagmire.

This "mechanical sorcerer" is like a tireless worker ant, with an endless array of mechanisms and traps at his disposal.

Whether it's the fog that obscures vision, the sticky metal net that restricts movement, or the small mechanical puppets made of metal and crystals that fearlessly pounce and entangle, they are all gradually eroding and disrupting the rhythm and strength of the Northern Empire's contestants.

After nearly thirty minutes of fierce fighting, the mechanical sorcerer unexpectedly summoned his own puppet beast, defeating his opponent in one blow.

The chill emanating from His Highness Prince Violet almost suffocated the surrounding staff.

Leaving aside Windsordler, who, although nominally representing Effie, was actually a member of the Middle Empire.

Their Northern Empire was the first to be defeated by a kingdom.

Grand Duke Roland of the Western Regions Empire interjected:
"A peak ninth-tier 'mechanical sorcerer' is indeed rare."

Moreover, her natal puppet beast is of a high level, its rank is probably on the verge of becoming legendary, infinitely close to a true extraordinary being, and is definitely not comparable to an ordinary puppet.

This is a formidable enemy; the Kingdom of Taren is very well hidden.

The Kingdom of Taren comes from the Land of Dragons, and it is able to coexist with a powerful and domineering nation like the Eastern Empire on the Land of Dragons.

The kingdom, which has sent top assassins like Hrud to the Silver Group, is far more powerful than it appears on the surface.

The brief break ended before the audience had fully processed the shock of the Taren Kingdom's victory over the Northern Empire.

The light screen shifted, revealing the list of contestants for the second round.

Cohen's name was still not on the list for this round.

However, Melantha's name was mentioned, and her participation unsurprisingly attracted a lot of attention.

When Melantha's slender and voluptuous figure appeared on the arena, she instantly attracted countless gazes.

Her appearance is undoubtedly top-notch, in no way inferior to Windsordler and Isabella, who have just entered the competition.

It is another kind of wild and charming beauty that is extremely impactful.

But more importantly, she represents Effie!
After the Bronze and Silver Group matches, Effie has transformed in the hearts of countless viewers from an unfamiliar, remote country into a synonym for something full of controversy, mystery, and great potential.

Everyone is eagerly anticipating what kind of performance this stunning beauty, representing Effie, will deliver.

Melantha's opponent is an "enchanter" from a kingdom, a young man wielding a runic staff and surrounded by a soft aura of energy.

"Enchanter" is a recognized magic-based class with huge potential in the late game but relatively weak survivability in the early game.

This player was clearly experienced, immediately setting up layers of runic shields and elemental barriers around himself, with dangerous fluctuations gathering at the tip of his staff, assuming a standard defensive counter-attack stance.

Just when everyone thought this would be a classic clash between mages, or a thrilling battle of offense and defense—

Melantha's figure instantly transformed into a burning crimson phantom, without lengthy incantations or elaborate spell initiations!

Her figure seemed to merge into the space itself, ignoring the tens of meters between them, and swept in like a scarlet storm of destruction.

The moment the enchanter's eyes widened in horror, the runic shield, which had been layered and was strong enough to withstand repeated attacks from spells of the same rank, shattered layer by layer.

The enchanter felt his solid magical barrier being torn apart as if it were made of paper. The next moment, everything went black, the world spun around him, and his consciousness was instantly cut off.

He didn't even get a chance to cry out before he was sent flying backwards, stiff as if he'd been hit head-on by a battering ram.

Instant kill!

A truly swift and decisive kill.

The entire process, from the ringing of the match bell to the opponent flying out of the ring, took only a few seconds.

The entire stadium seemed to have been muted.

Immediately following was an even more intense shock and uproar:

"It's...it's over?!"

“What the hell!

What just happened?

"That beautiful woman punched the enchanter, who was covered in shields, and sent him flying?"

"Are all the people in Effie this fierce?"
"His Majesty the King of the Silver Group can one-shot everyone, and the beauties of the Gold Group can also one-shot everyone?"

This completely unexpected and almost brutally overwhelming victory instantly made Melanza the focus of attention, even more dazzling and talked about than the victory itself.

In the VIP section, all sorts of complex gazes were focused on the figure that gracefully leaped off the stage.

"Where did His Majesty Corleone find such a formidable lover?"

This level of strength is probably not far from the legendary rank.

Almost all the discussions carried an implicit, ambiguous message.

Young, powerful, stunningly beautiful, and playing for Effie—to onlookers, this is the most plausible and alluring interpretation:
This must be yet another secret lover of His Majesty Corleone, who is nicknamed "Lord of Romance" and has a harem of the most beautiful women on the continent!
That's what word-of-mouth is all about! (End of Chapter)