The arrival of the middle-aged monk instantaneously hushed the entire training ground.
It was only when he gradually tamed his imposing presence that whispers began to ripple through the crowd.
“Who is that? He looks powerful.”
“Of course he is. He’s Oron Foyer, the disciple of the Ancient Sage!”
“Ah, that explains it. I’ve heard he’s incredibly strong, nearly on par with Kaden, another disciple of the Ancient Sage. It seems the rumors are true.”
“Well, with Master Oron here, I doubt anyone will start any fights today.”
As Oron stood in the center, the crowd started murmuring. Today was the Combat Tournament held by the Sacred Wrym Summit, so security naturally was the top priority.
If things got out of hand, it wouldn’t just be a feud between sects-it could turn into a big fight.
Alliances were frequent in the martial world, and a skirmish between a few could drag others in. If that happened, matters would quickly spiral out of control.
So, when the Frostzard Manor was about to throw the first punch, Oron stepped in promptly to avert a riot.
“Today is the day of the Combat Tournament at Sacred Wrym Summit. If you’re eager for a fight, let’s settle it in the battle ring. Remember to follow the rules and keep things civil.”
Oron bowed respectfully to the Frostzard Manor group. Then, he turned to Abigail and her friends and bowed again. Though polite, his tone was firm.
“Who is this blasted monk blocking our path? Do you have a death wish or something?” Luke glared fiercely at Oron and ignored his words.
His bold attitude made his disciples uneasy. Despite Frostzard Manor’s power, they knew they weren’t ready to challenge Sacred Wrym Summit.
Lambert Ramsfeld, an elderly man with a distinguished goatee, stood behind Luke. He whispered, “Mr. Harding, this man is Oron Foyer. He’s from Sacred Wrym Summit, a disciple of the Ancient Sage. We shouldn’t mess with him.”
Lambert was ready to face the Mystic Arts Order for Maurice’s sake, but he wouldn’t risk angering Sacred Wrym Summit. After all, no one in the martial world dared to mess with the Sacred Wrym Summit.
“Oron? Who cares? I don’t care who he is. Anyone who tries to stop me from getting revenge will regret it!” Luke shouted angrily.
“What an idiot,” Abigail muttered as she ignored Luke. She sat down and watched the situation unfold like it was entertainment.
With Oron from Sacred Wrym Summit present, she knew she didn’t have to do anything.
“Mr. Harding, we’re in Sacred Wrym Summit’s territory. It’s not smart to ştir up trouble with so many powerful sects around,” Lambert warned.
Despite Frostzard Manor’s influence in the northwest, they couldn’t risk angering other major sects at Sacred Wrym Summit.
“I have to avenge my father, don’t I? What does being wise have to do with it? Should I just sit back while the killer gets away?” Luke yelled angrily.
“Well…” Lambert hesitated.
He didn’t pay much attention to Luke when Maurice was alive. He just thought Luke was a bit impulsive.