quaila

"That bastard!", Miguel exclaimed furiously as they continued on their horses.

"You know what he meant?!", Mercury asked with a longing expression.

"Weren't you told?!", Miguel threw a glance at him.

"Right before he spoke, these black clothed bandits came in and killed him directly."

"After killing him, they ran off, having me chase them. Their escape plan was solid and to me who had no idea that they were coming was only able to get a piece of their garment."

Mercury narrated.

"That was how you were framed?", Miguel asked.

Mercury nodded and sighed.

At that time, they had arrived at the gate, facing the angry mob already going violent.

"What's going on?", Miguel subconsciously asked as he got down from the horse he was on.

Mercury got down from his horse and said nothing as he glanced around the auditorium.

……

In the ring.

One of the throwers decided to forfeit, afraid to end up killing an innocent person like the last person after holding the knife for a long time with trembling hand.

On seeing this, Misha walked forward.

"There's no need for that, you already won!", Misha tapped the last thrower who was about to throw.

Phew!

Misha's face froze as he saw the knife fly out of the last throwers hand regardless of what he just said.

Some persons had already looked away after the second to last guy forfeited, but as soon as they heard the loud shouting of others around they turned back and saw the knife standing at the other side of the board, pinned on the last circle.

"I can't disappoint my father!" The thrower smiled.

Misha was stunned, it took him a while to recover.

He turned to the thrower and subconsciously asked: "who are you?"

"Jane, Jane Dushia!"

The young girl said with a confident smile.

As soon as her voice fell, Misha's face became even more surprised.

"You are James' daughter...", He added looking at her.

After her nod, he looked up and smiled.

In Quaila, it can be said that skills and trained or developed abilities can be transferred from parent to child.

Misha gritted his teeth and couldn't help but wonder how much different his life would be if his ancestors had heightened their skills; wouldn't he be a grand master now.

Misha has long been watching these matches and every decade, this thought always popped up in his head. It's not like he doesn't like his job, but he naturally wished he could be so much more because of what he saw people do.

There has been times when he was bullied on stage, but with gritted teeth, funny commentary, wisdom and in most cases the intervention of Quailian guards he escapes.

Seeing this young girl with such an ability, he couldn't help but remember these events.

A guard needed not to come to inform him before he knew who won this match.

"The ruler of Precillia, Jane Dushia!"

Misha announced with a loud shout.

The crowd this time was a bit moody, the loss they witnessed made them to cold.

Jane didn't really care about this, all she wanted was to get back to her father whom she felt she had made proud.

"Next up we have Sticilian masters!"

Misha spoke as he turned to the ring door.

At this time, some Quailian guards stood around the ring making a circle around it; an inner ring of persons.

Everyone knew what to expect and so were extra vigilant.

This matches were the ones whose leaders were decided by violence. If only these guys knew that the last match potentially had a death tendency they probably would have made this ring earlier.

The guards were there incase the battle escalated and someone or something is about to fly out the ring; it was the function of these well paid and trained guards to prevent a tragic outcome.

With these arrangements made, only one person walked out through the ring door, moving slowly with a prideful expression.

When the crowd saw him, they were stunned.

Isn't this Timothy?

They recognized him by his face, but couldn't help but wonder what happened to the broken leg they knew him with.

"There's no one else on the stage!"

"Who's he fighting with?!"

"What happened to his broken leg?"

"Did he suddenly grew a new leg?"

They asked themselves as Timothy got closer to Misha who was stunned as well.

The best they had seen the most powerfully healer they had do was healing a blind and restoring youth, how as this man able to grew another leg now? And he is not even a healer.

"Even though I am not a Pregillian, I can with almost fully know the questions of so many of you, and unlike the pregillians, I won't leave you in the dark...", Timothy spoke into the amplifier with a smile.

"Woah!"

"Ahhh!"

"Gross!!"

The crowd exclaimed as he pulled his trousers up.

They could clearly see vines intertwined up into the upper part of his trousers covering the joint between these vines and his legs.

"This is the product of Helilia and Phytillia. Creative don't you think?!", The man said as he smiled turning towards Palmer's direction; his hidden message being that he was more creative that Palmer.

He went on still smiling: "There are other things that my creativity has helped me achieve, so many of wish I would like to share with you all."

"My people know this and you can see that none came forward to compete, they know that no one can rule better than me! No one!", He added as his face slightly turned from smiling to slightly serious.

"Let me through!!!"

"I passed the test fair and should allowed to be in the ring!"

They heard someone yelling from the ring door, obviously trying to get people's attention; mission accomplished.

On hearing this, Timothy frowned slightly and turned to the ring door.

The man at this time, empowered crowd's attention had broken free from the guards who shamefully walked away.

"You... You may have been able to silence everyone, but you one silence me!", the man said as he pointed at Timothy and walked closer.

To be continued……