The beams of the searchlights illuminated the fine drizzle, falling silently, casting a solemn and murderous aura over the entire border checkpoint.

The checkpoint officer hesitated for a moment. The Great Sect Chief Priest, a position equivalent to a courtier, had been waiting here for a while; was it really for this?

"If that's the case, we must investigate thoroughly."

He knew he was at the forefront of the political-religious conflict, and no matter what, he had to hold his ground. If he lost to the sect, it would be a slap in the face for the Military Department.

It gave him immense confidence.

Even with the fierce-looking heavy-armored figures behind the young Chief Priest, he showed no fear.

Mika was uneasy, pressing his hand against his clothes. He had the bone flute given by Fen before departing, and if anything unexpected happened, he could use it for a quick escape.

When communicating with the Church Court, they claimed that the last remaining troops returned with the Dragon Corpse. Could these people really be the ones to meet us? Trustworthy? This guy seemed like a clueless rookie, like an intern fresh out of school.

"The night after tomorrow, the items must be transported to the Imperial City. Time is extremely tight, as you've seen on the schedule. This train will go directly to the Imperial City without stopping at any stations. Any delay here increases the risk of being late, and you can't take responsibility for that."

The young Chief Priest said sternly.

Mika had arrived just in time, and it was true; if the Continent Martial Arts Competition had already determined a champion but hadn't reached the arena, it would be over. Zote would end up with an unmarked grave, possibly scavenged by the homeless in the Imperial City.

"I have seen it, but there are no other annotations on the schedule. I am merely following the laws of Aran. How fast this train is has nothing to do with whether it is subject to inspection. Search it!"

The officer raised his hand slightly, and his soldiers immediately swarmed, preparing to push aside Mika, who was guarding the compartment door.

There was a strange buzzing sound.

Time seemed to stand still.

All the raindrops suspended in mid-air, and everyone present froze in their actions, with only their eyeballs able to move, and the automatically rotating searchlights were also held in place.

The scene was frozen in this frame.

Mika also felt very strange, as if the air had become solidified with molten iron, making him unable to move even a slightest tremble.

Time stopped? No, he could still think. Was it some terrifying magic?

Only what Marcus allowed could begin to move.

The restraints on Mika were lifted, and he panted lightly. Some enormous force had completely restricted his body, making it impossible to even let his chest rise and fall, breathing was difficult.

Two of the heavy-armored figures pulled the levers first, raising the iron barrier, then followed the young Chief Priest to Mika's side.

"Hurry up and depart; it'll be too late otherwise."

He gestured for Mika to step aside; he also wanted to board the train to travel together to the Imperial City.

A cold sweat trickled down Mika's back; damn it! This wasn't part of the plan. He pondered if the rank of the Cardinal was higher than the Great Sect Chief Priest.

After some deep thought, it was evident that the latter was more authoritative, clearly more top-tier. The original plan was to just get through the border check, but it was unexpected that the Church Court's own people would make an appearance. Damn Shadi, always coming up with these half-baked ideas. We're not up against bandits or robbers; these officials are cunning like foxes.

Should he use the bone flute to escape? But that time technique was terrifying; could it work?

Soon, a decision was made.

Although he lacked the combat experience compared to other members of Black Sail, the power of his Dark Demon Scripture tattoos was immense. This young guy seemed spirited, but if you weren't careful, he'd put a blade in your forehead, and even an immortal couldn't save you.

He could only use such a despicable method, distracting him with conversation, then condensing a sharp spike to pierce his skull.

The train would throw the body off in a deserted area.

"Alright."

Mika agreed, letting the young Chief Priest and his group board the train.

Thus, under that strange time technique, everyone at the border checkpoint watched in disbelief as the train engine restarted, advancing and bizarrely breaking through the suspended curtain of rain, eventually accelerating and disappearing into the distance.

All the soldiers at the checkpoint broke free from their restraints, gasped for air like they were suffocating, with the fine rain drizzling down once more.

The leading officer relaxed a bit, feeling like a weight had been lifted from his heart.

The Church Court's forceful breach, with the Great Sect Chief Priest involved, didn't offend the Pope and could be explained to the higher-ups; it was unbeatable.

"Bring out some wine; damn, I almost lost my hat."

Feeling somewhat unlucky, the officer said to the soldiers. What kind of magic was this, really? The Church Court's people were too strange.

On the train.

Now within Aran's territory, having crossed the western border and passing through several provinces, including Aisnor Province, it would take another two days to reach the Imperial City.

The frontier wasn't like the heartland; even with Aran's abundant resources, it's impossible to have streetlights along every stretch of railway.

Although the railway hadn't been built west of the Narrow Sea yet, within Aran, the network was crisscross, the Empire's veins all open, trade speed advancing rapidly, dramatically increasing the economy, further consolidating the Royal Court's influence. Whether the anti-imperialists, whose throats were choked, would make a last-ditch counterattack remained uncertain.

The slight vibrations of the railroad ties induced a gentle jolting. Outside was pitch dark, the only illumination coming from the carriage's interior lights.

Marcus clearly sensed the unsettling atmosphere on the train. Except for the bishop, other members of the sect were anxious and fearful of meeting his gaze.

He entered the last carriage where Zote's coffin was stored, preparing to verify.

"Lord Chief Priest, you must be tired from waiting so long. I brought you a cup of water."

Mika was terrified, not daring to remove his Dragon Face Helmet. His own wanted posters were everywhere, and he was considered one of the Nether Star Plague People.

Marcus did not refuse.

Mika, seeing his trick working, steadied himself not to let his hands shake, and handed the wooden cup to Marcus.

Marcus didn't mind, bringing it to his lips to drink in one go.

Truly sorry, a young guy is still young. I hope you're not a rookie chef; otherwise, dying like this would be too unfortunate.

The runic tattoo on Mika's hand wriggled, filled with killing intent.

A coarse iron spike shot out in less than an instant, aimed at Marcus, too fast for anyone to react!

A metallic clang.

As if stopped by an invisible power plate, the spike was repelled, even shattered into runes, flowing back into Mika's body.

He survived this!

Mika was greatly shocked, this guy was too strange. He was sure: an opponent he couldn't defeat even at full strength!

What to do? Jump off the train now and use the bone flute to escape?

"Hand over the item."

Marcus extended his hand. He felt something was odd; he'd already talked to Liszt at the museum. Hadn't he informed his subordinates?

Pirates... always a ragtag band of mutual suspicion.

"Screw you!"

Mika didn't hesitate, preparing to break the window and escape, but it was the same as earlier—his legs seemed rooted, unable to move.

"You can't exhibit this item; otherwise, it would hasten destruction."

Marcus approached the helpless Mika and took the metal bottle containing Carrie, adding, "I'll ensure you reach the Imperial City; anything after that is not my concern."

He looked at Zote's coffin, filled with emotion, intending to ask something more.

"Damn."

Mika had only one thought: this guy was full of riddles.

At this moment.

Evening of September 7th, Imperial Arena, Round Three.

Advancing from this match would lead to the bloody fourth round on the 8th, among sixteen.

And finally, the climax of the Stargazing Festival on the 9th.

As the female host finished her announcement, the battle officially began.

Surely, by now, Mika would have entered Aran and was on his way here, Saleret mused. But all depended on him fighting into the final round.

He took two blades from the weapon rack.

The viewers, Gren and Galen, had long been thrilled by the matches, Gren placing all his hopes on this invincible Ghost Eye Mad Blade.

The external clamor roared for a while, but under the martial spirit, it gradually faded to silence.

All he saw was the opponent getting closer and closer.

Saleret erupted, dual blades slaying the enemy.

Like a Dream: Martial Arts Arena

The sword dances, petals flying into formation.

Cold glint sweeping with no trace.

Blood splatters, rouge grows cold.

The north wind howls across sharp blades.

Striving for victory, striving for victory.

Only fear to return defeated, drenched in regret.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.