Chapter 175

Chapter 175: The Belated Bet

Liufeng stood frozen.

Before coming to meet the Count of Saint Tower Island with Silvia, he’d rehearsed every possible scenario in his mind. He’d studied every battle Midi fought since arriving at the West Coast – from crushing experts at Zhenlu Arena to defeating all Nine Great Arenas. He’d analyzed Midi’s Techniques, tactics, and the raw power behind each sword strike. He’d even investigated Midi’s teaching methods at Lionheart Arena to gauge his true strength.

Confidence had filled him. Even if he couldn’t win, he believed his preparations would keep him in an undefeated position.

But now, staring up at this mountain-like sword descending upon him, Liufeng realized how laughable his planning had been. This wasn’t a sword strike – it was an entire mountain crashing down!

Beneath the collapsing sea surface and towering waves, Midi’s overhead slash radiated such overwhelming force that Liufeng’s body locked in terror. No ordinary human could withstand a falling mountain. Maybe a level 50 peak-level expert with rare gifts could. Perhaps Xuzu Kingdom’s valley-dwelling elders might survive. But Liufeng? Never.

As the blade fell, everything became clear. This explained Midi’s calm agreement to the duel, his indifference during the ship’s destruction, his casual use of Support skills. No elaborate battle plans were needed. Just one strike.

One strike to shatter Liufeng’s glass-fragile schemes.

Thunder boomed across the water. A forty-meter wave erupted. Like autumn leaf in a storm, Liufeng vanished beneath the sea.

"This…this can’t be!" Silvia pressed trembling fingers to her lips, staring at the water column still rising from the impact. The pearl of Faero Bay, spoiled daughter of the Yunlang Family Head, showed public distress for the first time.

None noticed. Every family disciple present stared transfixed at the churning waters where Midi stood. Only wind and crashing waves broke the silence. True silence – the kind that follows absolute shock.

They’d all read reports of Midi’s "instant kills" in Faero Bay. Heard stories of single-strike victories. But words on paper couldn’t capture this.

Not until now.

Not until they saw sea itself dent under sword force. Not until they witnessed a Xuzu Kingdom psionicist – level 48, master of telekinesis, scion of national Arenas – get erased like chalk from slate.

This was power.

Many tried to speak. Throats moved soundlessly. Hands clenched white. Legs trembled. Their bodies confessed what minds resisted – primal fear before power that could split oceans.

How long they stood? Minutes? Hours? The massive crater in the sea slowly filled. Waves stilled. When calm returned, a lone lifeboat drifted shoreward.

The lifeboat was the one Liufeng had failed to destroy, left intentionally by Midi for their return to shore.

On the narrow deck lay the unconscious psionicist Liufeng, drenched from head to toe. The once-imposing Xuzu general now resembled a soaked lobster hauled from the sea, his former dignity utterly absent.

Beside him stood Midi, still impeccably groomed. The contrast between the bedraggled challenger and the composed noble couldn’t have been sharper.

Under the watchful gazes of the crowd, the lifeboat drifted ashore over the next hour. Without waiting for assistance, Midi casually hoisted the unconscious Liufeng like a sack of grain, carrying him into the tea pavilion before dumping him onto a leather couch.

"Faye, is he…?" Wells ventured nervously.

"Merely unconscious," Midi replied.

Though hostile, the man’s intentions stemmed from national duty rather than personal malice. Midi saw no reason for underhanded tactics. Pressing his palm to Liufeng’s back, he forced out the ingested seawater. A pungent vial waved beneath the psionicist’s nose soon roused him.

Liufeng awoke coughing brine, his throat burning with salt and shame. The disappointed stares of the assembly and Silvia’s withering gaze left him speechless.

Before the humiliated general could collect himself, Midi’s voice cut through the silence: "Now that you’ve lost, shall we discuss the wager’s terms?"

The words struck like dagger thrust. Liufeng’s earlier confidence evaporated as he recalled his fatal oversight – in his eagerness to defeat the Count of Saint Tower Island, he’d neglected to name his own stake. The victor now held absolute bargaining power.

Cold dread seeped into Liufeng’s bones. As Xuzu’s official envoy, any disgrace would reflect on his nation. Refusal meant destroying Xuzu’s diplomatic prospects, while compliance might cost his position. The general’s composure cracked, revealing raw panic beneath.

Noting his opponent’s distress, Midi turned to the flame-haired noblewoman nearby. "Though Liufeng lost, this remains Yunlang’s wager. Will you honor the debt, Miss Silvia?"

The previously haughty heiress met his gaze warily. "What do you demand, Count?"

"Nothing burdensome." Midi’s smile held wolfish charm. "Twenty three-masted full square-rigged ships should suffice. Consider the matter settled."

Shocked gasps rippled through the room. Twenty warships!