Once upon a time there was a greedy snake.

Chapter 230 Knowledge is power
They were competing together just yesterday, but after waking up, they suddenly decided to kill each other. This was completely incomprehensible to the locals of the Serpent God City—but for these chosen champions who descended from the sky, it was perfectly normal behavior.

After all, that's what they've always done.

When many chosen champions gather together, the birth of a new champion becomes inevitable—there can only be one champion, and the god of courage will only watch over the strongest one. This means that those who are not strong enough will become stepping stones for this supreme champion.

To unleash a sufficiently dazzling light, one must have enough fuel, which means that when these chosen champions descend into this trial ground, they are prepared to become firewood.

Simply put, they didn't even care about their own lives in order to win first place.

How could they possibly care about the lives of these local natives?

It's normal for the training grounds to be destroyed, and for all the natives to die to prove how intense the battle was. But what's abnormal is that they're even participating in some local competition. And now, directly killing the local natives is just a return to what they've experienced most often.

Moreover, these killings were absolutely necessary.

They had to kill all the local natives before the god of wisdom corrupted them, otherwise they would all be trapped here if the god of wisdom's corruption spread. The thought of going from being decisive and courageous to being a foolish person who was obsessed with technology and always ready to debate with others filled these chosen champions with murderous intent.

However, their ruthless killing plan was brought to an end before it even began.

Or perhaps, these local natives simply didn't perceive it as an attack.

Just like right now.

It was a chosen champion named Nubaton. When he realized something was wrong, he immediately grabbed his longsword and rushed into his neighbor's house—and his neighbor, the local native, was a level 412 barber.

Those of such high rank and profound expertise are most susceptible to corruption by the god of wisdom.

Such people should be eliminated as soon as possible.

However, despite eliminating him, the Chosen Champion Nubaton didn't really take it too seriously. After all, even if that old man had a level of over 400, that was only in hairdressing. In terms of actual combat, at his age, he might not be able to defeat him.

"Under normal circumstances, I might have seriously competed with you in your area of ​​expertise... but now, I can only apologize."

Nubaton raised his longsword, ready to chop off the old barber's head.

However, faced with the raised, bloody greatsword, the old barber showed no sign of even the most basic fear; instead, he wore a welcoming smile.

"Since you're here, please have a seat."

Nubaton certainly wouldn't sit down; he was there to kill people, so how could he possibly sit?
A moment later, Nubaton saw his face in the bronze mirror.

When did I sit down?

Nubaton suddenly felt a little dazed; he only remembered that it seemed like a pair of hands were pressing on his shoulders.

Then he remembered nothing. It was as if there was a gap in his memory; just a moment ago he had raised his greatsword, but now…

Where's my helmet?

It was at this moment that Nubaton suddenly realized that something else was wrong.

Yes, he remembered. He had been wearing a helmet when he arrived. Although many chosen champions would choose not to wear helmets to prove their courage, Nubaton would not do such a thing. He believed that even a lion must go all out to hunt a rabbit. If he wanted to kill people efficiently, he had to make sure his self-protection was at its best.

But now, the helmet was nowhere to be found, and even the armor on his body had been taken off at some point. As for the greatsword in his hand, it was already against his neck, constantly scraping his chin. "Not bad, you've sharpened this blade better than my razor."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old barber, who should have been killed with a single sword strike, actually shaving him with his greatsword.

As the sword blade scraped against the hairs, his beard fell off, yet not a trace of blood was visible.

"And what about your head... what kind of repair do you want?"

"I……"

Nubaton had no interest in getting a haircut; all he wanted to do at that moment was kill.

But just as Nubaton was about to get up, those hands pressed him back down.

It's simply impossible for a hunched old man to push a giant, as strong as a bear, back into a chair on the spot.

Even Nubaton couldn't understand how this was done.

"What exactly is generating this force? What am I facing?"

At this moment, fear began to grow in Nubaton's heart, the chosen champion of the God of Courage.

This was a power he couldn't comprehend at all. He couldn't even fight back. From the moment he sat down in that chair, his life was no longer his own—whether he could survive now depended entirely on the old barber's mood.

After all, that greatsword held across his neck, if it were even slightly higher, would have been enough to sever his head.

"Impossible! I will never die here!"

Nubaton gritted his teeth, summoning the courage within him. He would never be crushed by this setback; he was the chosen champion of the God of Courage!
Fortunately, he survived.

He survived after his hair was shaved down to just a few strands standing up in the middle. Although the mohawk looked rather ugly, he still survived.

As for the first thing to do after surviving, it was of course to kill the old barber. Whether it was to prove his courage, to vent his anger, or to eradicate the corruption of the god of wisdom, he had to kill the old man.

But just as Nubaton was about to retrieve his longsword and put his armor back on, he suddenly found himself back outside the door.

He didn't retrieve his longsword, nor did he have his armor or helmet. His right hand was even raised in mid-air, as if making a friendly farewell gesture.

"I am..."

It was at this moment that Nubaton vaguely remembered that he had to pawn his armor and longsword because he couldn't afford the exorbitant haircut fee.

"So... what exactly did I just experience?"

The unknown terror completely gripped Nubbat's mind.

Faced with the dark, gaping door of his neighbor's house, Nubaton turned and ran.

(End of this chapter)