Extraordinary Rise: Starting Contract with the Silver Dragon Countess

Chapter 453 The Martial Arts Festival Concludes, the Gods Clash!
Inside the main arena of the Imperial Arena, the audience's emotions had already been completely ignited.

Cheers, shouts, and discussions swept across the entire venue like a tsunami.

Today is the final match of this year's Martial Arts Festival, a showdown of the legendary group, and the ultimate collision symbolizing the highest level of legendary players on the continent.

Of course, besides these, what excited the audience even more was...

As is customary, after today's competition, deities will descend upon the continent to bestow divine favor upon the nations that achieve rankings.

Witnessing a miracle is something most people dream of.

Amidst great anticipation, the competition officially began.

The outcome of the match was as expected.

Fyodor, the head of the Noble Academy of the Central Empire, faces off against Grand Duke Belmotti of the Emerald Palace.

Although Belmoti had overcome all obstacles and entered the finals with overwhelming force.

But most people still favor Fedor.

For the vast majority of viewers, battles at the Legendary rank are far beyond their comprehension.

They couldn't understand the true meaning behind Belmod's previous "Abyss of the Underworld" domain, which silently devoured the diamond barrier, disintegrated the Four Symbols Fist Force, and crushed the Star Tree.

They had no idea just how terrifying the power Belmod had previously displayed was.

Moreover, the name Fyodor itself is legendary: Chairman of the Imperial Education Committee, Principal of the Holy Radiance Academy, and holder of the title of "Strongest Legend" for two consecutive Noble Martial Arts Festivals.

In past competitions, he had defeated countless powerful enemies with magnificent flames and sacred fire, and was a symbol of imperial glory.

This deeply ingrained impression made it impossible for them to believe.

How could an obscure "Jade Grand Duke" from a small northwestern country be able to shake this sacred monument that symbolizes the pinnacle of the empire's legendary history?

With the announcement of Archmage Victor, the final match of the Continental Noble Martial Arts Festival, symbolizing the end of the main chapter and representing the pinnacle of the continent's legendary rank, officially began!
The two entered the final arena, the scene changed, and finally transformed into a beautiful starry sky.

Beneath the dazzling starry sky, the two floated in the vacuum, like two shadows cast by the universe.

Fyodor took a deep breath. His pride and self-esteem as a two-time "Legendary Strongest" made him determined to fight to the death, even though he knew his chances of winning were slim.

Although Chief Heisenberg already had a detailed plan for dealing with the ownership of the Holy Radiance Academy.

But the shame and defeat he felt from losing it was something he couldn't accept.

Fyodor showed no intention of testing him; as soon as Victor finished speaking, he immediately began to act.

With a sudden swing of his arm, a blazing white sphere of light instantly expanded outwards from his core.

The interior of the sphere of light was not simply a bright light, but a churning and roaring sea of ​​liquid fire, within which countless fiery dragons surged and howled.

Legendary Realm, "Endless Flame"!
The "Endless Fire" domain is almost frantically absorbing all the free energy in this starry sky, transforming it into raging fire elements.

Fyodor stood in the center of the sea of ​​fire, his body like a bottomless pit, continuously drawing power from the flames, and the magical fluctuations around him were also rising steadily.

The space rippled and vibrated, even the distant starlight was forcibly drawn towards it.

Every roaring fire serpent, every ripple in space, every starlight forcibly pulled in, all transformed into a raging torrent, forcefully pouring into Fyodor's body.

Fyodor's body began to send out dangerous signals.

The bones beneath the muscles made a slight cracking sound as they succumbed to the strain, and fine bloodstains appeared on the skin's surface, only to be evaporated into barely perceptible red mist by the sudden surge of even higher-temperature energy.

What was most unsettling was that his soul was also trembling slightly.

He was sparing no effort to concentrate all his strength, regardless of whether he could defeat his opponent or not, at least he would be seriously injured after this match.

The best outcome is a drop in rank.

Belmod's face remained calm as the "Abyss of the Underworld" spread out like viscous ink, forming an absolutely dark sphere.

The terrifying heat and energy radiation from Fyodor, enough to incinerate the void, were instantly extinguished upon contact with this darkness.

A profound stillness and coldness permeated the air, carving out a void that could not be ignited within the boiling, endless sea of ​​fire.

The flames in Fyodor's eyes burned fiercely, and amidst his fervent roar, the phantom of a magnificent furnace slowly rose from the center of the boiling sea of ​​fire.

The legendary artifact—the Eternal Forge!
With the appearance of the Eternal Forge, an immense and suffocating power of law erupted.

The Eternal Forge not only provided him with an almost limitless supply of magic power and terrifying regenerative abilities, but also frantically extracted power from the "Endless Fire" domain and even the entire starry sky environment.

Fyodor's body underwent a terrifying change.

Once one reaches the legendary level, the body of an extraordinary being has already solidified into the most perfect and stable energy-carrying form, making it almost impossible for them to undergo fundamental physical changes.

However, at this moment, Fyodor's body visibly swelled up.

The muscles bulged and twisted like a engorged python, and the bluish-black blood vessels stretched out under the skin like thick vines, as if they might burst at any moment.

Every muscle was filled with an unimaginable torrent of energy, which had nowhere else to go but to forcefully expand this legendary vessel that had already reached its limit.

Without a doubt, the power within Fyodor had long surpassed the threshold expected of a legendary-level being, reaching a point where even beings of the same level would feel suffocated.

His face was contorted and deformed from extreme pain.

Without further hesitation, he swung his staff violently.

The Eternal Forge emitted a terrifying roar as if the heavens and earth were splitting apart, and the sound waves transformed into tangible golden-red light waves that instantly swept across all directions, suppressing even the boiling endless sea.

A beam of pure, violent white light, indescribable in its intensity, roared toward Belmody.

The power contained within the pillar of fire was enough to instantly vaporize mountains and ignite the sea.

Faced with this attack that could annihilate heaven and earth, Belmody simply waved her hand.

A faint sound, like the shattering of the void, spread through the deathly darkness.

Suddenly, a crack appeared in the core of darkness.

The next second, a cold, eerie, and pure dark vertical pupil slowly rose from the crack, blocking the path of the pillar of destruction.

Cursed Eye!

The vertical pupil was surrounded by a deadly purplish-black mist, filled with a curse aura powerful enough to corrupt living beings and distort the laws of nature.

The core of the pupil is not round, but a slowly rotating vortex that seems capable of devouring everything.

Faced with the incoming pillar of fire, the vortex at the core of the vertical pupil suddenly accelerated its rotation.

laugh--! ! !
There were no earth-shattering explosions.

The molten core jet of fire, powerful enough to pierce through stars, crashed headlong into the slowly rotating black vortex.

With no energy leakage and no heat dissipation, Fyodor's attack was like falling into a bottomless vortex.

Even more bizarrely and fatally, the powerful suction provided by the Eternal Forge has now become an aid to the Eye of the Curse.

Instead of being pulled or shaken by the furnace, the vortex used this force to accelerate the extraction of the original power of the pillar of fire, and even began to erode the original projection of the furnace.

The suction force instantly reversed; it was no longer the furnace extracting from heaven and earth, but the Eye of Curse extracting from the furnace in reverse.

Fyodor's expression changed drastically.

The light inside the Eternal Forge began to flicker violently, and the massive phantom of the forge showed signs of instability.

He sensed a cold force that ignored his laws of fire, forcibly severing the connection between the pillar of fire and his origin, and flowing upwards, attempting to corrupt the furnace itself.

The power of a curse!
Fyodor roared, igniting the core laws of the Eternal Forge.

His body suddenly burst into incandescent flames, instantly consuming a massive amount of the domain's fire element.

The front end of the pillar of fire, which had been devoured by the Eye of Curse, suddenly broke off, instantly abandoning that section of flame corrupted by the power of the curse.

And it will inject even more ferocious firepower into the phantom of the Eternal Forge to solidify its existence.

This desperate act of sacrificing his arm turned his face deathly pale instantly, and the flames on his body dimmed noticeably for a moment, clearly indicating that he had paid a heavy price.

Belmodie noticed Fyodor's weakness at that moment, and she gently waved her arm.

The black vortex in the center of the Eye of Curse suddenly stopped spinning.

It was a feeling of utter silence, of time frozen.

Then, at the center of the vortex, a chilling blackness condensed.

This tiny, dark light was silent yet swift as a flash of light.

Ignoring all the incoming high-temperature fireballs, it shot straight and precisely towards the core of the phantom of the Eternal Furnace.

With a loud boom, a pitch-black, ever-expanding void appeared in the center of the Eternal Furnace.

“Uh…” Fyodor uttered a short, unintelligible syllable.

All the flame-based protective covering his body, his robes, and even his skin had lost their luster, revealing a deathly grayness. He could no longer draw any energy from the domain and the void to sustain himself.

The previously boiling and roaring sea of ​​white fire, like a punctured balloon, gradually fell silent as the phantom of the Eternal Furnace collapsed.

Fyodor himself had no wounds, but he seemed to have lost all his energy and spirit. His demonic flames dissipated, and even his robes looked old and tattered.

Archmage Victor's voice rang out at the opportune moment, piercing through the silent star platform:

"The victor is Alfie, the Emerald Duke!"

...The final match of the Noble Martial Arts Festival came to an end under the incredulous gazes of everyone.

Countless eyes, whether from the VIP boxes high above or the crowded and bustling ordinary stands, were fixed intently and incredulously on the two figures in the "Mirror of the Sky".

Fyodor, the legendary Chairman of the Imperial Education Commission, a man known as the "Undying Flame," the uncrowned king of two consecutive Noble Martial Arts Festivals, and the undisputed strongest legend.

They were defeated without any power to resist!

The so-called "final battle of the Noble Martial Arts Festival" has completely overturned the perceptions of all viewers.

It was hardly a fierce battle or a showdown.

This is a crushing, one-sided, utter, suffocating crushing.

From the start of the battle, to the disintegration of Fyodor's desperate attack, and then to the severe backlash that left him kneeling and unable to rise... throughout the entire process, Belmod displayed unfathomable strength.

Even ordinary viewers who had no concept of legendary-level power clearly understood what this meant at this moment.

That wasn't a difference in tactics or skills, nor was it an imbalance in form or luck.

That's an absolute difference in strength!

Fyodor was already at the pinnacle of legend, the zenith of human martial prowess below this saint.

So, there was the calm and collected Belmodi standing on the field...

Just how incredible and terrifying was her strength?

Inside the council hall of the House of Nobles, one of the highest symbols of imperial power, the air seemed to freeze, so heavy that it was almost suffocating.

The breathtaking battle scenes on the giant magic crystal wall have disappeared, leaving only the emblem symbolizing "victory" imprinted on Effie's banner, so glaringly obvious.

The cold glow of the curtain wall reflected on the faces of the powerful and wealthy people in the hall.

Although Belmotti had demonstrated unfathomable power in previous matches, and although Chairman Fyodor had stated before the final battle that his chances of winning were slim.

But when the bloody reality was laid bare before them, the bigwigs of the House of Nobles still felt a tremor deep in their souls.

That's too powerful. This is only the mid-stage of the legendary level. Once Belmody advances further, could she possibly be on par with a saint?
It's incredible.

Regardless of what outsiders say, the title of "Strongest Legend" was won by a contestant outside the five great empires for the first time, and Effie became the only country to win three championships in a row since the Noble Martial Arts Festival was first held.

This achievement is so glorious that it illuminates the entire historical scroll of the Demon Tide Continent, and its weight is enough to make the five great empires feel breathless.

This means that Effie's depth and breadth at the level of top-tier superhumans has reached an astonishing peak.

After the competition, the wrap-up work for the Noble Martial Arts Festival will begin.

The statisticians of the Noble Martial Arts Festival organizing committee were working diligently and systematically.

Magical runes flickered, and on the virtual sandbox formed by the giant water mirror spell, the performance data of all participating countries' representatives in the four different groups (Bronze, Silver, Gold, and Legendary) appeared densely.

Wins, rankings, performance ratings, rule compliance... every point represents the future allocation of national resources, influence on discourse, and even the delicate balance between continents.

It also signifies the imminent arrival of divine favor!
Although a tedious final check is still needed, the result is already a foregone conclusion.

With three championships and one runner-up finish, Effie's points are far ahead of all competitors, including the five major empires.

Finally, the most sacred moment arrived.

The dean of the Imperial Royal Magic Academy, the highly respected Archmage Victor, dressed in a star-patterned robe symbolizing the supreme power of magic, slowly walked into the center of the grand hall that had already been prepared.

High-ranking envoys and representatives from various countries stood solemnly on both sides, the atmosphere so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Archmage Victor, with a solemn expression, unfurled a scroll woven from special materials, on which were inscribed with the detailed final statistics of this year's Martial Arts Festival using secret techniques.

A deep, clear voice began chanting in a distinctive, prayerful rhythm—

"By the contract as witness, in the name of fairness... we hereby report the final results of the 974th Continental Noble Martial Arts Festival..."

As he chanted, powerful magical energy began to gather in the air above the Great Hall.

The complex magic circle lit up with a pure and sacred white light, like a flowing galaxy.

The information inscribed on the scroll, every character, every point, was enveloped in magical light, detached from the material medium, and transformed into pure streams of information.

Ultimately, all the information converged into a pure and radiant light that reached the heavens and the earth.

Archmage Victor of the Holy Land raised his hands high, his voice booming and majestic, piercing through the hall and reaching the heavens:

"...Therefore, on behalf of all the participating nations of the Martial Arts Festival, we hereby submit our final judgment to the supreme witness who sits atop the chain of order and oversees the ironclad laws of contract and fairness—His Majesty Cavendish Libra, the God of Contract and Fairness!"

Om-! ! !
That pure beam of light seemed to pierce the boundary between reality and the divine realm, transforming into an invisible entity, carrying the results of the most outstanding military achievements of the entire continent in a way that transcends the concept of time and space.

They were teleported directly to the throne of the god who held the law of "contract and fairness".

The gaze of the gods will witness and confirm the ultimate glory and ownership of this grand event that will shape the future of the continent.

……

The divine realm, Cavendish Libra's divine kingdom.

At this moment, the ancient deity who held the power of "contract" and "fairness" froze for a rare instant, his face, which was originally calm and as precise and cold as a scale.

He had just received and deciphered the final results of the Noble Martial Arts Festival, which Victor had transmitted across the dimensional barrier.

Is it Effie again?
The champion of the Legends Division was also Effie?
This is really unbelievable.

In the long enough years for mortal civilizations to rise and fall, Cavendish has witnessed the rise and fall of countless mortal heroes, and the rise and fall of countless kingdoms.

He has seen many unexpected events and dark horses.

But someone like Effie, with such incredible speed and unparalleled brilliance, leaped from the edge of the mainland stage to the top, winning three championships and claiming the highest glory...

Even by God's standards, this situation seems too shocking and abrupt.

According to the ancient divine covenant and the oath of the origin of the martial arts festival, after each festival concludes, the gods jointly bestow divine blessings, reward the brave warriors, and inspire the mortal world.

But this blessing is not decided unilaterally by Cavendish; rather, it requires a simple vote by the Council of God—or rather, the assignment of tasks.

Cavendish's figure transformed into an invisible torrent, piercing through the boundaries of the planes and instantly appearing in the prophetic plane.

Madora wasn't surprised by the result; after all, it was that country, and he wouldn't be surprised by anything that happened there.

The key issue now is who to send down to preside over this so-called divine blessing.

In the past, these kinds of "blessing errand runners" were basically hard and tiring jobs.

It requires a considerable amount of divine power to descend to the mortal realm and condense a stable avatar that can exist in the present world. The divine grace bestowed is also a real consumption of primordial power, often a thankless task.

Therefore, in the past, "hosts" were usually appointed arbitrarily:
Whoever has the leisure time, or which deity suddenly takes an interest in traveling to the mortal world, will accept the task, whether willingly or unwillingly.

Those sent down were mostly incarnations of deities of moderate power.

But this time the situation is completely different.

First of all, the name Effie itself has become the eye of the storm stirring up the temple of the gods.

Since that council of the chief gods that revealed its astonishing potential, countless deities have secretly set their sights on that land, each with their own agenda.

A rapidly rising human nation with enormous potential.

The importance of the upcoming Covenant of the Gods and the subsequent "War of Nations" is beyond doubt.

Furthermore, with the announcement of the covenant of the gods approaching, apart from some extremely covert operations, the gods have, in principle, significantly reduced their direct contact with the prime material plane in accordance with the rules.

In order to avoid suspicion of prematurely interfering in the mortal process and to maintain the core fairness of the covenant.

This "Blessing Host" is almost the only legitimate and open opportunity for the gods to descend to the mortal realm before the covenant officially takes effect.

Which god wouldn't want to seize this opportunity?

Under the guise of bestowing blessings, they actually engage in understanding, probing, and even initial contact.

This foreshadows the future struggle for discourse power and the guidance of faith in the great war between nations.

The question of "who to send down" was instantly imbued with political significance and strategic value far exceeding the act of "presiding over the blessing" itself.

This has become a crucial move on the chessboard of the gods' games.

Madora's "gaze," composed of countless threads of fate, seemed to pierce through the mist, scrutinizing the restless, bright, or dark wills deep within the void.

Who wants to go down? Who can go down? Who can achieve the best balance without triggering new disputes?
After much deliberation, Madora looked at Cavendish:

"Why don't you go down there yourself?"

You represent the rules and the oath itself; your arrival carries the most credibility and best embodies the sacredness of this blessing!

Cavendish pondered for a moment, just about to agree.

Without warning, the space beside him was soaked into a pure, dark color that seemed capable of swallowing all light, followed by a low, eerie laugh:
"When did His Holiness the Prophet, a representative of the Lawful Faction, start leading the way in breaking the rules?"

In the heart of that ever-churning darkness, the figure of Erebus, the god of darkness, slowly emerged, and coldly stated:
"Has the Noble Martial Arts Festival ended?"

At this sacred moment, shouldn't we follow tradition and publicly select that lucky and devout executor to descend to earth and spread divine grace?

"Your Excellencies of Order, did your actions just now cross the scales of justice, attempting to appoint someone privately in the shadows?"

(End of this chapter)