Book 3, Chapter 133


Young Mensa’s eyes were full of fear and obeisance, but the lightning bolt had left his entire body numb. He couldn’t speak a word. Richard slowly drew the sword on his back, “You wanted to know what this sword was for, no? It’s to split open your throat.”

He then placed the sword on Young Mensa’s throat and lightly pressed on it, drawing blood.

A heart-wrenching scream pierced through the sky from one of the viewing platforms, the skies above Richard’s head suddenly growing dark and gloomy. An overbearing force fell down from up high, a silhouette heading in Richard’s direction. Unprepared as he was, Richard couldn’t even move his fingers in the face of this assault. The attacker went beyond the level of a normal saint, reaching legendary might.

Unable to resist, Richard merely shut his eyes in acceptance. It hadn’t crossed his mind that the Mensa Family would be so daring, openly flouting the sacred rules right under the Emperor’s watch.

‘So be it. If I die here, the Mensas won’t last more than ten years.’ Richard shut his eyes, awaiting his fate. In his last fleeting moments, he thought to himself that at least he had gotten some interest back for Gaton. As for what came after, that wasn’t his problem.

*BAM!* A heavy thud sounded beside Richard, but it wasn’t the attack he had been expecting. He lifted his head in suspicion, seeing a bulky man struggling to stand up as he bled profusely from his head. He was puking blood non-stop, unable to even speak properly. The man looked down at his waist, only to find a piece of cake! The cake was embedded deep into his body, still intact, but just looking at its position one could tell that any bones nearby had been smashed to pieces.

Richard looked at the bulky man’s face and immediately identified him as Duke Mensa’s brother, Earl Kane Mensa. This level 19 saint was the one trying to attack, but now he lay heavily injured on the ground by a soft cake. Blood continued to gush out of his throat as he was left unable to struggle any longer, falling to the ground.

Something flashed in Richard’s head and he turned his head towards the viewing booths. Emperor Philip was wiping the cake crumbs off his fat arms, saying unhappily, “What a waste of my dessert!”

He then stood up, “The fight is over, there’s nothing left to see.” Just before he stepped out, however, he suddenly thought of something and said to someone beside him, “Stay behind and make sure all of them adhere to the rules of the duel. I don’t want anyone challenging Emperor Charles’ laws.”

“You can rest assured, Your Majesty!” the follower said with determination.

Richard had already stowed his sword away, walking casually towards the exit of the arena. Duke Mensa was already waiting outside, expression stern and voice quivering, “Richard! You… You’re good. You’re quite good!”

Richard calmly wiped at the blood on his hands, “I’ve always been good. It seems like your beloved son is the one who isn’t.”

Duke Schumpeter had a similarly cold look on his face, his eyes narrowed, “Indeed, you’re quite good to make enemies of both the Mensas and Schumpeters! But I’ve seen far too many amazing youths in the past fifty years. All of them eventually become a set of bones. I can only give you one piece of advice; whenever you leave Faust, be sure to watch your back!”

Richard suddenly started laughing out loud as he pointed at Dario, “A mere Schumpeter has the audacity to threaten me?”

The Duke’s expression immediately grew wonderful; the surrounding nobles were making digs at him. If not for the protection of the Mensas, the Schumpeters would already have been chased out of Faust. Duke Mensa was the only reason Dario still possessed his seat.

Richard stopped smiling, casting a piercing gaze in the Duke’s direction as he said mellowly, “But that’s okay, Your Grace. I won’t mind such a small fault. After all, I am going to be helping you check whether Miss Rosie’s body is as attractive as her face. I hear you haven’t married her yet, so sad!”

Mensa’s face warped into a look of insanity. “Richard!” he shouted as he drew his sword in one go, “I’ll kill you!”

The sword was drawn, but it could not go through. A pair of fair, feminine hands placed themselves on the Duke’s, looking soft and gentle yet completely neutralising old Mensa’s level 17 strength. He was left unable to attack or defend.

Mensa grew angry beyond words, but when he looked up it was as though a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head. Seeing the androgynous face in front of him, his anger was frozen in an instant. Anyone with a modicum of knowledge about the royal family would recognise that this was one of Emperor Philip’s followers. This person seemed like they could only lick His Majesty’s boots, but they had served by Philip’s side for more than twenty years, weathering multiple political storms.

“His Majesty has decreed that the rules of the great Charles shall not be broken!” a sharp voice rang out.

Duke Mensa’s expression turned from enraged to thoughtfuly, “Please rest assured, the Mensa Family has millennia of glory and honour behind it. We will not renege on our promises. Rosie!”

Rosie took a step forward, expressionlessly standing beside the Duke.

Duke Mensa looked at Richard, “The bet was for her to strip for you. I don’t think a third party should be involved, am I right?”

Richard smiled, “Exactly.”

“Great! Rosie, head back with Richard for now. Remember to follow his instructions; the Mensas are not a family without honour.” The Duke turned around and left the moment he finished his sentence, not bothering with Dario whose face had turned green in discomfort. He didn’t even bother to take another look at his own son’s dead body.

The entire Mensa Family was no different. They left Rosie alone.

Richard smiled, waiting for Dario and Duke Mensa to leave before signalling to Rosie, “Let’s go!”

He gathered his men and headed back towards the floating island, Rosie silently following behind. However, only a few steps into the walk and he felt a weird stare on him. Turning around, he saw a delicate-looking youth staring at him from a small distance away. Seeing Richard look in his direction, he turned away and left in a hurry.

Looking at the receding back, Richard turned towards Fuschia, “Who is that?”

Fuschia was quite familiar with Faust’s nobility, “That should be Raymond Joseph, famous for his breadth of knowledge and intellect. He is a rare Mage of Soremburg, and an aspiring runemaster himself.”

“A familiar name; he definitely isn’t someone simple. Thankfully, it looks like he isn’t long for this world.”

Fuschia was instantly shocked. She could tell that Raymond had a weak physique, but it wasn’t easy to draw a conclusion like Richard’s without more knowledge. She felt like this youth had become a stranger over the span of two duels. But then again, perhaps she had never understood him.


In an unseen corner, Raymond took out a handkerchief and covered his mouth, coughing heavily. His back trembled in the midst of his fit, the white handkerchief stained crimson by the time he regained control of his body.


Flowsand was running towards the Church of the Eternal Dragon with heavy footsteps, as though she wanted to crush the marble flooring under her feet. “I shouldn’t have given you the Twin of Destiny!” she muttered through gritted teeth, “You should just have died to that Mensa fellow. You heartless creature!”

Behind her, Noelene forced a smile and pretended she hadn’t heard anything.


The noble families reluctantly started to leave the arena, most still embroiled in heated discussions about the duels. That crimson lightning bolt was the centre of attention; these battles would definitely capture the minds of the people for a long time.


Ever since they left for the teleportation temple up till they reached Richard’s study, Rosie silently followed behind Richard without a word. Nobody from the Mensa Family followed her at all, the Duke sending his “beloved” granddaughter into an enemy base by herself.

No matter where she was, Rosie had the beauty and presence to make her the centre of attention. Many even called her the pearl of the Mensa Family. Seeing her follow Richard back to his island, many discussions sprang up between the shocked populace of Faust. Information about the bet between Richard and the Mensas was spread throughout the city in what seemed like an instant.

Back in the library, Richard sent the steward out to bring a bottle of red wine before having everyone return, leaving him alone with the beauty. Only then did he realise his face was turning an abnormal white. Still, he didn’t speak of it and instead calmly chugged down a mana potion. He then opened the bottle of wine calmly, pouring out a glass for himself. He’d only had one glass brought over; he obviously didn’t intend to play the part of a good host.

It took quite a bit of time for the mana potion to kick in, allowing him to feel better. Still, he felt a discomfort inside his body that left him empty. Such was the impact of his Archeron bloodline; he didn’t know yet that many of his internals had been burnt.

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OMA's Thoughts

Translated By: JT

Edited By: Theo

TLC'ed By: OMA