Chapter 170

Chapter 170: The Attention of Flying Sail

“Father, if you’re concerned about Lionheart Arena, should I send agents to investigate?” A young yet steady voice echoed through the seaside villa.

The speaker was a black-clad youth with a broad crimson sash around his waist. His dark complexion and athletic build mirrored the Flying Sail family head’s appearance, marking him as a seasoned seafarer. This was Shalan Flying Sail—first heir and eldest son of the family. Though appearing carefree, his sharp eyes noticed his father’s pensive expression and immediately volunteered.

Yet this time, an unexpected voice interrupted.

“How eager, brother. But need we provoke Elder Faye by prying?” Wells countered, seizing his rare chance to challenge the favored heir.

“Wells! Who permitted you to speak?” Shalan barked, face darkening.

“Should I stay silent while you make enemies for our family? Your clumsy spies would only offend a warrior who defeated nine arenas single-handedly.” Wells scoffed, startling the other Syndica siblings—since when had this delicate-looking youngest brother grown spines?

“Your proposal?” The Flying Sail patriarch’s gaze settled on Wells.

“Father, I met this ‘Count of Saint Tower Island’ when his ship Star of the South docked here.” Wells spoke carefully. “With Lionheart Arena’s rise and his combat reputation, this hollow title becomes political capital. Even major maritime families can’t ignore him now.”

The family head’s eyes glinted—Wells had waited months to reveal this.

“I propose hosting a tea party under my personal name to observe him. No risk to the family—only my reputation suffers if things go wrong.”

“Nonsense!” Shalan snapped. “We can’t associate with some mystery charlatan!”

Mystery? Wells nearly laughed. Compared to the Sword of Victory and Guardian who’d toppled kingdoms, the Flying Sails were minnows.

“Approved.” The patriarch cut off further argument. “Handle it flawlessly, Wells.”

“Yes!” Wells’s eyes shone.

*

Next morning, a gilded invitation reached Lionheart Arena. Midi smirked at the parchment. His pawn Wells had exceeded expectations—not only baiting the family head’s interest but organizing a youth gathering of every major maritime clan.

Signing as “Count of Saint Tower Island”, Midi accepted. The name Faye (assigned by the Queen of Magic and Mist Sorceress Alice) stayed hidden, along with his earthshaking true identity.

*

One week later, Wells’s neglected coastal manor swarmed with carriages. Though sixth heir properties were usually remote, today’s event drew West Coast’s elite youth—some curious about the arena conqueror, others sent to gather intelligence.

Parking became status theater—noble heirs “accidentally” blocking rivals while lower-born parked blocks away. The square resembled kicked anthill until scarlet chaos erupted.

Six armored crimson horses tore through, toppling carriages in their wake. Guards froze at the Yunlang family crest—Faero Bay’s top maritime clan, Red Lotus Arena’s backers.

The carriage halted rudely at the entrance. Wells paled—he’d never invite these rivals. This reeked of his brother’s meddling.

His worst fear materialized as a flame-haired beauty emerged, flanked by her handsome knight.

“Miss Silvia! What brings you here?” Wells choked out.

The Yunlang heiress smiled poisonously. “Why, to meet the fool who stole my Red Lotus Arena.”