Continent Martial Arts Competition site.

The stage is suspended in the sky above the arena, and after the performances are completed, it becomes the "Sky Arena" for the championship battle. The Champion of the Continent Martial Arts Competition, the epitome of strength in the world, must showcase grandeur.

The soundproofing is excellent.

Even though the cheers of the audience outside and the music performed by the Prism Sound Core Orchestra were already exhilarating.

But the backstage dressing room of the suspended stage remains quiet.

Qili, as the biggest star, is to transition from past to present, and will perform in the middle of the event.

In front of the full-length mirror, several stylists surrounded Qili, touching up makeup, refining details, and arranging the adornments on her costume.

Yet Qili feels no sense of nervousness, whether in the East or West of the Narrow Sea or on the Southern Continent. She has attended countless grand ceremonies and is completely in her element.

Because the event is organized excellently by the Aran Military Government, such opportunities to gather wealth for the national treasury annually are few, necessitating comprehensive escort and support.

Not only does the Evgeny Consortium provide stylists, but the organizers also supply court-appointed etiquette officers as stylists.

"You are simply... a perfect work of art."

The court stylist was at a loss for words, working with Qili for the first time and not knowing what to say, only able to describe her as the most perfect creation of beauty and Holy Spirit vows.

The mysterious and hazy aura gave birth to inscrutable symbols, akin to the untold secrets in a library.

Her shadow is not her follower but an independent ghost, the sum despair of all admirers who die for her.

Like a maze, every moment gazed upon her carries all unfinished regrets, becoming an eternal, unsolvable mystery.

The court stylist couldn't hold back and used a string of exaggerated praises for her.

Not that he was dim-witted; even without any ethereal arcane energy fluctuations, she possessed a bizarre magical power.

"Thank you."

Qili could only respond this way.

She was aware that she possessed a kind of charisma that seemed to lower intelligence; many commercial tycoons or regional powers, no matter their accomplishments, become silly after meeting her, saying odd things.

It's not annoying, she's just completely accustomed to this situation.

Qili never ventures into disputed areas, only living safely in the First World, and she always encounters such individuals.

Because Qili has tremendous versatility, capable of carrying any type of styling.

In many ceremonies attended, aside from specific themed promotions coordinating with the organizers, stylists often choose a solemn and slightly divine royal style by default, as Qili can fully carry it, with looks and body undisputed, and her posture and demeanor can withstand any scrutiny.

This time, Qili's styling was different, with a planned scheme prepared in advance.

The costume is a concrete representation of life's tension, a black and gold classic luxurious backless long dress—the textures and lines of the back like a statue kissed by moonlight, radiating a gentle, cool light, and a blasphemous climbing wicked pleasure desire ladder, the embellishments of the skirt's neckline and twining floral patterns like time gilded phantoms.

Styling and costume are integrated.

Her eyes are tributaries of Almazbek (the longest river west of the Narrow Sea), hiding untamed wildness, flowing over all silent desires.

The red on her lips, in a desolate world, makes desires sprout, burns loneliness.

Due to her unique melancholic aura, her beauty even evokes wistfulness.

The stylist continued to arrange her lush, black long hair.

"That assistant you mentioned, are they here yet?"

Qili asked her assistant, with a voice that's naturally exquisite due to her vocal profession.

She needed to confirm this since she had never encountered such talent from the Eternal Sect before, supposedly a place of detachment and abstinence, such odd occurrences, she pondered what had gone awry.

In her free time, Qili also enjoyed reading novels.

But Western Continent novels... are somewhat perverted.

Gore and killing were long eliminated; nuns facing terrifying monsters, overweight 300-pound priests are even more nauseating than adversaries.

Not that Qili liked reading such novels, but the ones that sold well on the market usually had some sort of explosive plot.

There were no thematic restrictions here; as long as you didn't dabble in ideologies or print pamphlets, you could write anything.

"Yes, a Holy Professor came by just now saying so, but they only just arrived."

To avoid affecting Qili's state, the assistant hadn't proactively mentioned it.

After the performance, this suspended stage will serve as the Sky Arena and will likely be wrecked by those beasts. Personnel will retreat to the rehearsal lounge behind the arena following the conclusion.

And that assistant will meet Qili in the lounge where she rehearsed earlier.

"Damn..."

Qili could only hold back those two words.

Fearing that the assistant might be as frightening as novel priests.

"You will accompany me later."

Qili said to her assistant.

The assistant also broke into a sweat, admitting many details were omitted fearing they'd impact Qili's state.

The Eternal Sect's methods were far more aggressive than the Military Government. These priests were eccentric; once arrangements were made, nothing was left to chance.

The Eternal Sect held feudal power, requiring female Holy Professors under 30 to serve the Dragon Lord, while men were unbothered.

The assistant triumphed in a fierce battle, wanting to meet Qili was a given, the arrangements complete.

"Alright."

The assistant could only respond perfunctorily.

The Eternal Sect's idea was for the assistant and Qili to quickly get it over with in the lounge, but on the surface, they couldn't say that, formally only allowing a private meeting with Qili.

The assistant could only wait to inform her later, fearing she might throw a fit and refuse to perform, an eventuality that would have the Evgeny Consortium suffer from the Aran Military Government's wrath, not to mention the Eternal Church's.

Could they decapitate millions of heads?

Performance site.

The artistic program mid-September went on one after another, with the atmosphere exuberant, landlords and nobles from all over the world placing bold bets on the championship.

"I still have to thank you, without you, I'd probably never see this in my lifetime."

Galen clicked his tongue in wonderment.

This suspended stage is the magnum opus of the Magic Energy Industry, with impeccable lighting effects created for performances, complete with glitter sprays and ribbons, and it even spews fire.

Outside, the organizers have coordinated large-scale fireworks displays continually going off. For the Aran people, whose national religion is the Eternal Church, today feels like a holiday.

The goal is to have everyone dizzy and urging them to place their bets quickly.

In the Western Continent, men generally dominated, with few male performers in the shows. The organizers understand this, with a parade of beauties, beauties, and more beauties.

Let your little head rule your big head, quickly place bets, and if you win, you earn enjoyment.

"No need to thank me, you've helped me a lot too."

Gren was unmoved by the performance, having already left Liszt's fate to be decided by the heavens, while all-in bets have entered the finals.

She never expected to get this far; once she got the money, destroying East Sea International was still difficult, but buying one person's life was more than enough.

Today's audience comprises influential figures and invited guests.

The head of Lostra's Chess Games Company, Priests from the Holy Spirit Church, representatives from the Pedian Atomic Heart Church, members of the Outer Heaven Visitor Alliance, all hosted generously by Lin Jun, are present.

The largest event of mid-September, attendees are revelling as if on stimulants, with orchestras not only performing energetically but also interacting with the audience, with nobles abandoning pretense and hollering along.

Mika had already pinpointed the location, knowing where the lounge was.

Not stepping out to see the performance site would be a disservice to this night.

He pulled the brim of his hat low, wore an armband with the Dragon Lord's Emblem, and scanned his identity card to enter the performance site, blending in among the audience.

There was still some time before Qili's appearance, but the current show on stage was already fiery enough.

The bodies of historical sinners, fragments of ancient King's Devices, Flying Dragons from the stars, legends of the Overlord Bloodline.

Large portraits about to circulate worldwide.

All these were cast aside.

Now he was uninterested in world wars, only in the poster silhouette on the wall of the SS Fuma Keqing Revenge's cabin.

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