Why Did You Summon Me?

Chapter 28: It All Depends on the Theatrics



Chapter 28: It All Depends on the Theatrics

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

The Voidwalkers were in a cacophony of debate, churning out batch after batch of theories and conspiracies and makeshift answers to his previous question.

However, the Archmage, perhaps being the more grown-up among the group of "grown-ups", copied his old disciple’s thoughtful expression as he was examining the gold coin.

"Hmm? Is that gold coin a token of approval?... Ooh, looks like you’ve got a fan here!"

That’s not the point. Baiyi shook his head solemnly, then carefully kept the coin back into his pocket. There was a very light wisp of green Chi Prowess lingering on it when I took it. That presence— came from a Legendary-tier fighter. I’d erased it already, but I still can’t get it out of my head…

"I’m impressed with your observant nature and understand your caution. But this is probably not as suspicious as you think it is." The Archmage replied good-naturedly. "If I were you, I would think that someone out there just found your skills admirable and wanted to say hi." He lowered his voice. "Whatever it is, you can’t expose your true identity here so don’t let that shake you."

… I guess you’re right. I must have gotten a bit too worked-up. Thinking back on his performance critically, Baiyi had confirmed that he had concealed his true strength pretty well— that person would probably not be able to discern the truth. A mere Legendary-tier could not possibly outdo him.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Alright. Let’s get back to these louts and see what they’ve got for our next performance…

"Me! Me! Me! Use my technique already! Simple yet super practical, no slip yet totally hip! The ladies will love them!" The Caveman declared loudly with a kind of thundering confidence.

Are you kidding me? Let me list out your techniques—CHOPSLAY! CHOP-HARDER-SLAY! TWO-HANDS CHOPSLAY! JUMP UP AND CHOPSLAY! CHOP-THE-HARDEST-SLAY! Let us ignore the incredible 'diversity' of your techniques— you managed to conquer and commanded the loyalty of three millions savage tribes back then because you possessed the strength of the gods, alright? Your body was blessed by your Tribal God to be indestructible too, remember? If not how else would you be able to complete your conquest with a technique that seemed like something a ten year-old came up with when someone said 'karate'?

In fact, out of all the thirty-three Voidwalkers, your entire movesets are literally the only one I could not replicate in any form! Do you honestly even think that the spectators, no matter how uncultured they might be, would enjoy your brutal and violent art of fighting?

When Baiyi’s brain momentarily froze with an explosion of ridicules, Undine Dole was residing comfortably far away as she watched the scene unfold. With a thoughtful "Hmm", her furrowed eyebrows relaxed as her voice lightened up in surprise.

"He removed my Chi Prowess! How very clever of him…"

The black Soul Armature beside her laughed heartily, "I told you this one has that specialness in him, didn’t I? Regretting not betting on him now eh, lass? It’s 1 to 288 gold coins now!"

"I, unlike you, am not the slightest bit interested in that small amount of money," Undine replied indignantly, her eyebrows furrowing again. She really had never been bothered by money— it was her Soul Armature that bothered her. It had been years but the Soul had never shown any intention in changing his wayward attitude.

"So what made you change your mind about him, lass? I thought you hated this show, said it was boring and totally unhelpful to your mission to find useful fighters."

"…Or, was it because of the way he stripped off his opponent’s clothes right in front of the spectators that turned you on?"

"Shut. Up." Her face darkened instantly.

Being aroused just by watching men’s clothing being ripped off from a gladiator fight? That’s low. What changed Undine’s mind was what she saw and how he had reacted to her test. Being a keen observer with eyes as sharp as a hawk, she had caught sight of slight ripples in the air surrounding Baiyi’s sword when he had struck— the ripples were unnatural in its distortion, almost as if it was a Qi Blade. Yet, the man had joined the Intermediate Level fights and not those that were higher.

Why?

She had tossed the coin— a way to show her admiration and interest in that odd man and also as a way to test his true depth.

Then the man had not only detected it but he even snuffed it out.

Undine, the savant known by the title "the Butterfly Saint of Swords", was not only as beautiful and swift as the beats of a butterfly’s wings, she was also a true prodigy even when compared with others of the same rank. But then her little trick was discovered and dismissed in an instant by a random Rogue Knight in black cloak.

Nothing would excite a Legendary fighter as much as a curious case of a swordsman possessing only Intermediate Level of power but yet had the dexterity of a real expert. Undine picked up a glass of red wine with her slender fingers as she sat down, her fair long legs clad in black silk socks was crossed and resting on the couch.

She was waiting for his next performance and this time, no details would escape from her sight.

Very soon, after the talkative announcer blabbered through his long script of introduction, Baiyi was once again introduced on stage. The difference this time, however, was that the announcer had not dared to expound on the awesomeness of his opponent. Instead he electrified the crowd by hammering, again and again, on how many more rounds Baiyi can win with his current winning streak. The arena was roaring with even more excitement and anticipation.

At that time, facing Baiyi was a fighter with a sturdy shield held up in front of him. He had a pair of watchful eyes that spoke of years of experience clashing with swords and staring down at blades coming close to his neck.

His title still sounded ludicrous— 'The Unmovable Wall'— but he himself was anything but. Unlike the previous opponents, he did not provoke Baiyi. In fact, after watching closely, Baiyi saw that this man had real substance.

Good. Very good. I thought they were all going to be comedians! Finally, someone worth having a match with had finally appeared. They finally took Baiyi seriously— he was so touched, he could almost cry.

Now that a more capable actor had arrived, he could finally use the suggestion the Thane had came up with: the re-enactment of that one clash of swords between nobles. It was the most beautiful dance of silver blades the Thane had ever seen; The artistic choreography, the sparks that was created from the clashing of blades, the jaunty glint of the blades transcended into ringing metal echoing in his ears— it was both visually and technically flawless.

Of course, back then the nobles were not acting— they were truly fighting with all they had. Regrettably, they were both mere Master-tier fighters, which of course made their fights looked like childsplay compared to the Walkers. It was a gorgeous fight regardless of how weak it was and it was aesthetically appropriate to be used right in the center stage of the arena.

Baiyi memorized the flashbacks in his mind as he did all he could to re-enact the scene. Striking fanciful parries, launching barrages of attaque au fer , whirling out of harm’s way, drawing his blade at the precise moment to his flank when the opponent had tried to draw out an opening. The two were lost in the melee, as each quickly shifted between guards and ripostes, playing a symphony weaved from metals and sparks as swords and shields met.

The sparks ignited the spectators' excitement as if they were gasoline. Ovations and exclamations rose and fell like tides as they watched, each cheer rising steadily in intensity every time it was requested. What was more— those among the crowd who had shown nothing but disdain towards Baiyi in the beginning had begun to cheer and called out to him to show support.

Who would have known that this cow— er, Sven the Rogue Knight could hold his own so well? Could it be that his previous fights were lame because those previous foes were just too unworthy for him to display his true sword skill?

If he wins this match, he would have to face an even stronger opponent… Doesn’t that mean he is going to show off even more of his real skill?!

He’s got to win! The crowd came to the same conclusion independently. They started giving ovations and cheers only to Baiyi.

"Beat that iron wanker, mate! Bloody show him!"

"I’m in love with you already, Sir Rogue Knight! I love your name and your outfit!"

"Pwn that noob like a boss! I know you still have some ultimate moves left! Unleash them already! "

The opponent might still be holding his shield and he did not suffer any heavy damages but yet his heart felt like it was cut— by the crowd's clear bias. Imagine being the one who had to parry this show-off’s strikes— he felt like he could barely keep himself alive in the melee but that asshole was so obviously just fooling around!

He knew that Baiyi's level was way above him. So how did he enter an Intermediate-tier battle? Most importantly, what was he even thinking? He knew he had left many unintentional but deadly openings for his foe to exploit— the fight could have been over minutes ago. But when all Baiyi had to do was to perform a basic lunge, he turned his sword sideway and executed a slow-moving horizontal slash; then when his attack missed Baiyi, exposing an opening for a critical riposte, that dude performed a fancy backward somersault instead of pressing on!

The fighter swore his eyes had started to tear up. That asshole did not come here to compete, he was here to perform! It’s an arena, not an opera house! Please stop making fun of me!

To be fair, back when Baiyi had wanted to be serious, he was pitted against two D-list actors. Now even if there was a serious opponent doing his best, Baiyi had already lost any mood for a real fight.

In the end, the fighter was sick and worn out from this physical and mental torment. He raised his hand in frustration and was declared the loser of the match. Before he left the stage, he turned around and looked at the man he had not been able to land a hit on with pure dejection and hatred.

Hey, what’s with that gaze? I performed very exceptionally, even if I do say so myself! What are you so mad about? Baiyi replied in his mind. He could not understand why they were all taking it so seriously, seeing as how to him it did not matter at all. To him, they were all just as good as actors.

"The Rogue Knight had pushed the Unmovable Wall into despair ! Three strikes in a row! This cloaked enigma is on a winning streak— just as I had predicted! All foes before him are just preys waiting to be served!" The announcer shouted above the raving spectators. "His bounty has increased to 40 gold coins, my friends, would he be satisfied with his success and packs up to go home to his family? WILL WE BE ABLE TO WITNESS AN EPIC TWELVE CONSECUTIVE WINS TONIGHT?!"

The crowd screamed and cheered, clearly moved by the excitement. Their wallets and money pouches seemed to have a big hole as they showered Baiyi with gold coins.

"Meh, this is more like it." Baiyi glanced at the piles of coins before him. Even if the arena took 50% of the income, there were still 1000 gold coins left. He also had a side income— the commission he would receive from the betting. He might have spent a little too much time on this but he was earning a lot of money.

"I think I’m starting to like this place," Baiyi said as he kept all of the coins.

Just then, he saw two new coins coated in the same green Chi Prowess as before.

What the hell? He erased the Chi Prowess immediately without changing his expression and then turned around to signal that he would continue with the tournament.

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