Chapter 164

Chapter 164: Counterattack

How many years had they endured?

How many setbacks and sufferings had they weathered?

How much time and Mental Energy had they poured in?

After all these trials, Lionheart Arena had finally found a savior in Midi. Against all odds, the arena had begun to rise—only for someone to shamelessly demand control over their hard-earned progress and claim authority over them?

They even dared to demand Lionheart Swordsmanship, the very foundation of the arena! The sheer audacity!

Who could tolerate such treatment?

The disciples’ hearts burned with uncontrollable anger as they glared at the smug representative barking orders.

Seeing their united fury, Midi judged the timing for application of heat was right.

“Finished?” Midi arched a brow, his icy stare pinning the representative.

“Yes. Lionheart Arena has one week to comply. Otherwise, the Union will enforce Penalties.” The representative stood tall, unflinching despite being surrounded by nearly a hundred disciples. He’d faced bigger crowds.

He was certain Midi would fold. No arena defied the Union’s conditions—the strongest faction in Faero Bay—unless they wished to shut down.

Yet Midi showed no fear, anger, or hesitation. His calmness was unnerving, like still water hiding unfathomable depths.

The representative’s confidence wavered.

“Good. I have questions,” Midi said, voice sharp as steel. “Where was your Union months ago when Zhenlu Arena broke every rule to challenge Lionheart? Where were you when they sent hordes of level 40 experts?”

The representative froze.

What could the Union have done against Zhenlu’s martial fanatics? Everyone knew the answer, but voicing it was impossible. He stayed silent.

“And when Zhenlu strong-armed arenas in prime locations for pennies—where was the Union then?”

Cornered, the representative snapped, “Zhenlu’s actions are irrelevant! Don’t shift the topic, Elder Faye!”

“Shift? No. I’m exposing your Union’s true nature.” Midi’s tone cut like frost. “For all your bluster, you’re cowards who prey on the weak and cower before the strong.”

Before the man could protest, Midi gestured. Dickson stepped forward, grinned, then drove a fist into the representative’s gut.

The level 20 representative crumpled, foaming at the mouth. Dickson’s technique ensured agony without unconsciousness—leaving him a trembling ragdoll on the paladin’s fist.

“Toss him out.” Midi’s casual order carried steel. “Since your Union respects only force, let’s demonstrate Lionheart’s strength.”

The once-proud representative was dumped outside like garbage, a spectacle for all Faero Bay.

It took thirty minutes before flustered Union officials retrieved their disgraced face.

A formal envoy had entered standing; he left broken.

Petty disputes might be smoothed over. But this public humiliation? The Union’s reputation demanded absolute retaliation.

Their hall now held thirty-two officials from sixteen historic arenas. Though not the largest or strongest, these institutions held Faero Bay’s oldest human networks and city council ties. For generations, even major maritime families had treated them with deference.

But now?

Just a small arena established barely thirty years ago, without even a single level 50 peak-level expert, yet daring to make such a move!

They must be completely crushed!

The thirty-two seated officials reached unanimous agreement before discussions even began.

The real question was method. They couldn’t let Faero Bay’s citizens perceive this as petty revenge, yet needed to regain face while demonstrating the Union’s absolute authority.

Today’s debate focused on merging these conflicting goals into one devastating strike.

But as these pampered officials—accustomed to controlling others’ fates—began brainstorming, shocking news arrived.

Lionheart Arena had started issuing challenges!

Not to one, but sixteen arenas simultaneously!

Impossible!

Officials exchanged bewildered glances.

Yet seasoned veterans soon smiled and congratulated each other—their dilemma solved! Lionheart Arena’s recklessness provided perfect justification for its destruction.

Though rumors claimed Lionheart’s mysterious young elder could kill level 40 experts instantly, the officials dismissed this as propaganda. Only Lionheart disciples had witnessed Midi’s skills, and rival Zhenlu Arena wouldn’t corroborate claims from Faero Bay’s local competitors.

Even if the tales held truth, what mattered?

They weren’t fighting some upstart like Zhenlu Arena, but sixteen united houses with centuries-old martial heritage and dozens of experts. What could one man achieve against such might?

Let them challenge!

Sixteen officials swiftly agreed—maintain defensive positions.

Meanwhile across Faero Bay, public opinion mirrored the Union’s. None believed in Lionheart’s gambit.

Some deemed it arrogance from recent victories. Others thought desperation—a doomed last stand to preserve dignity for future revival.

None understood Midi’s true perspective.

Sixteen arenas? Level 40 experts?

To Midi’s overwhelming power, they meant nothing.

His grand challenges simply accelerated Lionheart’s rise, using established names as stepping stones.

He knew his real enemy was Zhenlu Arena, backed by the Delos Empire. But with both sides avoiding open war after Zhenlu’s recent loss, these local arenas made perfect targets—training disciples while building reputation.

To Midi, the sixteen stood like varied castles: energy arts arenas, Sanshou fighter schools, judo dojos, swordsmanship halls, even archery ranges.

He assigned six neutral arenas (neither strong nor weak against Lionheart Swordsmanship) to disciples. Two teams led by Dickson and Randall would each tackle three, testing their skills.

The remaining nine—strong and weak alike—Midi claimed for himself.

Soon Lionheart disciples marched from their arena in orderly columns.

A plain black carriage followed, rolling leisurely toward upper Faero Bay’s central broad path.

Here stood Midi’s first conquest.

White Dove Arena.