Chapter 856 Being Made Fun Of (Part One)
Oaks may fall, but the reeds can withstand a storm. Is it not better to bend than to break? Destruction always pursues the strong.
Olivia knew this, and so did Zen.
Zen had no idea about his own capabilities before he entered the Talent Tablet. Even if he did have countless skills, was it really necessary to have that label "Celestial Position" added right before his name? What did it even mean, anyway?
It must have meant so much validation for such a recognition.
Suddenly, a majestic aura rained down before Zen. He turned around and saw that it was an ogre war lord. Even if he had seen a number of them in his existence, he was still in awe every single time. However, the majority of them were not friendly at all.
"A tenth-level war lord?" Zen's eyebrows furrowed out of intense curiosity.
"That's an ogre seat owner," Olivia whispered into Zen's ear, eyes fixated on the creature right before them.
"You brat. You think you're some hotshot, huh, having carved your name this big?" Malcom's voice rang throughout the entire town, causing everyone's ears to ring.
The words that came out of Malcom's mouth gave Olivia some palpitations. Her heart started to pump loudly, as if threatening to escape her chest. It had been one of the many things she feared. If Malcom killed Zen at that very moment, the humans could have done nothing but watch.
"What's the problem then?" Zen asked, his eyebrows twitching from the anger that was brewing inside of him. Unlike most, he wasn't at all afraid of Malcom.
Strange gazes were everywhere. Some expressions were so easy to spell out. Almost all of them were wondering where in the world Zen mustered up such confidence to stand up to someone like Malcom in that certain way. 'Is he asking for his death?' they all thought to themselves.
Every race that existed would have agreed that someone as skillful as Zen had an unfortunate fate. Ogres came for someone like him. They wanted him gone.
The war between the humans and the ogres was personal, so the other races just watched the ongoing banter from a distance, staying safe from that kind of trouble.
Malcom let out a laugh so sinister that it crept almost everyone out in sight. "I don't th
e tenth floor, it was occupied by tenth-level war generals, where talents from all races gathered.
The tenth floor was a force to reckon.
In order to reach the higher levels of the tower, the war generals cultivated their skills in the secret room and worked harder than most warriors on the other floors. It was tight.
Due to the conniption between Boris and Zen, those war generals had sneaked out of the secret room to watch, too.
In one of the spectator stands sat a young woman dressed in a long, green robe. Her hair floated through the thick air and her eyes were sharp as knives. Her name was Cheryl Mu, a divine-level talent of the Demon Night. A sight to behold.
On the tenth floor in the Tower of Sin, Cheryl and Boris were always compared. The two of them were the most powerful talents among the young throughout the Sea God Continent.
Keeping to herself at all times, Cheryl had also been doing her training in the secret room. A spell of Time Law was cast on her training room, which meant that ten days inside it was one day in the outside world.
The two, Cheryl and Boris, had fought twice in the past. However, both of the fight resulted in a draw. Despite this, Cheryl still felt like she had suffered defeat.
According to the rules of the arena, if both sides fought to a standstill, then they would exchange their Lucky Light. During those two fights, Cheryl had stored up a lot more Lucky Light than Boris. It was something that rankled her.
Olivia knew this, and so did Zen.
Zen had no idea about his own capabilities before he entered the Talent Tablet. Even if he did have countless skills, was it really necessary to have that label "Celestial Position" added right before his name? What did it even mean, anyway?
It must have meant so much validation for such a recognition.
Suddenly, a majestic aura rained down before Zen. He turned around and saw that it was an ogre war lord. Even if he had seen a number of them in his existence, he was still in awe every single time. However, the majority of them were not friendly at all.
"A tenth-level war lord?" Zen's eyebrows furrowed out of intense curiosity.
"That's an ogre seat owner," Olivia whispered into Zen's ear, eyes fixated on the creature right before them.
"You brat. You think you're some hotshot, huh, having carved your name this big?" Malcom's voice rang throughout the entire town, causing everyone's ears to ring.
The words that came out of Malcom's mouth gave Olivia some palpitations. Her heart started to pump loudly, as if threatening to escape her chest. It had been one of the many things she feared. If Malcom killed Zen at that very moment, the humans could have done nothing but watch.
"What's the problem then?" Zen asked, his eyebrows twitching from the anger that was brewing inside of him. Unlike most, he wasn't at all afraid of Malcom.
Strange gazes were everywhere. Some expressions were so easy to spell out. Almost all of them were wondering where in the world Zen mustered up such confidence to stand up to someone like Malcom in that certain way. 'Is he asking for his death?' they all thought to themselves.
Every race that existed would have agreed that someone as skillful as Zen had an unfortunate fate. Ogres came for someone like him. They wanted him gone.
The war between the humans and the ogres was personal, so the other races just watched the ongoing banter from a distance, staying safe from that kind of trouble.
Malcom let out a laugh so sinister that it crept almost everyone out in sight. "I don't th
e tenth floor, it was occupied by tenth-level war generals, where talents from all races gathered.
The tenth floor was a force to reckon.
In order to reach the higher levels of the tower, the war generals cultivated their skills in the secret room and worked harder than most warriors on the other floors. It was tight.
Due to the conniption between Boris and Zen, those war generals had sneaked out of the secret room to watch, too.
In one of the spectator stands sat a young woman dressed in a long, green robe. Her hair floated through the thick air and her eyes were sharp as knives. Her name was Cheryl Mu, a divine-level talent of the Demon Night. A sight to behold.
On the tenth floor in the Tower of Sin, Cheryl and Boris were always compared. The two of them were the most powerful talents among the young throughout the Sea God Continent.
Keeping to herself at all times, Cheryl had also been doing her training in the secret room. A spell of Time Law was cast on her training room, which meant that ten days inside it was one day in the outside world.
The two, Cheryl and Boris, had fought twice in the past. However, both of the fight resulted in a draw. Despite this, Cheryl still felt like she had suffered defeat.
According to the rules of the arena, if both sides fought to a standstill, then they would exchange their Lucky Light. During those two fights, Cheryl had stored up a lot more Lucky Light than Boris. It was something that rankled her.