Chapter 428

Chapter 428: The Final Match of the Bonfire Gathering

The finals adopted an elimination system.

Previously, the rankings of the slave warriors from the Wolfspider tribe had also followed elimination rules. Unfortunately, their poor imitation led to five final participants instead of a proper number.

In such cases, one contestant always received a bye.

Mason, ranked first, got two byes while Midi fought through two battles before finally facing him.

That chaotic final clearly lacked proper organization. Only slave warriors would participate in such an event without the binding blood oath.

The official bonfire gathering finals now had sixteen participants. Positions were decided by initial draws, followed by eighth-finals, quarter-finals, semi-finals, and the championship to determine the strongest warrior.

When the four arenas merged, Mososbury City’s host announced the champion would receive three Dragon Breath Potions and fifty thousand black gold coins.

"Hmm? What about the Fighter Selection for Mososbury City?" Midi frowned slightly.

He’d been too focused on studying opponents and preparing for battles to learn the gathering’s rules. The reward announcement puzzled him.

Dragon Breath Potions were valuable, but Midi’s alchemy skills made them attainable. Fifty thousand coins meant little. The crucial Black Dragon Conference qualification hadn’t been mentioned.

"Patience, friend," said Zaknavan, another finalist, with a knowing smile. He explained:

The bonfire gathering didn’t guarantee selection for Mososbury City’s Fighter Selection. The gap between tribes and the city’s major families was vast—sometimes even the gathering’s strongest warriors couldn’t match average family fighters.

In such cases, the event merely served the families’ publicity needs, unrelated to the Black Dragon Conference.

To prevent tribes from pure showboating while enforcing loyalty to Mososbury City, finals results weren’t directly tied to fighter selection.

Ultimately, the city council designed the gathering to serve their interests, not help scattered tribes. Its true purpose was luring and controlling wilderness tribes through tempting rewards.

Simply put, attracting major families’ attention required extraordinary personal power.

Warriors matching Mososbury City’s elite fighters would easily gain recruitment and selection qualifications. Mediocre ones might become guards but never advance in the Conference.

Other factors like potential, background, and history mattered too—including conflicts like "being enemies with the Death Scorpion family."

Thus, Wolfspider warriors needed overwhelming strength for families to consider them worth angering enemies.

"But you’ll be fine," Zaknavan added unexpectedly.

"Comforting me?" Midi raised an eyebrow.

"Observation from attending gatherings as a City of Fierce Wind family agent," Zaknavan grinned. "The key lies in weapons."

The dark elf nodded at Midi’s towering greatsword with open admiration.

"Ah." Midi instantly understood.

The Black Dragon Conference centered on dark elves, though other races participated.

Due to their racial traits, dark elves often favored professions emphasizing agility, ranged combat, and magic, while remaining weaker in frontal assaults. Though Midi was a human matching dark elves in build, those who’d witnessed his ferocious swordplay knew the hidden power within his unremarkable frame. To the dark elves, Midi now fell into the same category as Risen the Black Dragonkin—labeled as “meat shield,” “frontline powerhouse,” and “humanoid monster.”

While such roles’ effectiveness in selections was debatable, practitioners like Midi would undeniably become core assets during actual ruin expeditions. This was why Zaknavan claimed Midi’s worth far outweighed potential troubles. Apart from the Death Scorpion family, any city council-backed clan would likely offer Midi membership. Yet first, he had to survive Ulhan. The icy resolve in Ulhan’s expression promised a life-or-death clash—failure here meant no future.

“Let’s make a deal,” Zaknavan said lightly, patting Mason’s shoulder. “If we face you in the eliminations, don’t humiliate us. Go easy, and we’ll owe you a Favor.”

Mason snorted, pride preventing him from pleading, though he knew resisting was futile. Midi didn’t scorn Zaknavan for this. As a reincarnator, he leveraged unique advantages, often forced into action—if he retreated, no one could replace him. Yet he understood Zaknavan’s pragmatism. The dark elf had bet on him early, building trust. Now, with Zaknavan desperate to qualify for Mososbury City’s fighter selection, Midi saw no reason to refuse.

“Agreed,” Midi answered solemnly.

“Zaknavan, where’s your warrior’s pride?” Alexis’s cold voice cut in.

“I know it’s improper,” Zaknavan admitted, sighing as he gazed at the arena’s looming Dragon Head. “But my true battlefield lies elsewhere. I’ll use any means to become Mososbury’s fighter.”

He must have something to protect, Midi mused, glancing at Alexis. “Plenty of dark elves wield dual blades or daggers. What’s your plan?”

Alexis’s true trump card was mind-related abilities, though outwardly he posed as a dual curved blade-wielding Ghost Cry. His Level 62 peak strength dominated the Wolfspider tribe but paled against Level 64 adversaries like Risen and Ulhan. Midi doubted Alexis would expose his secrets publicly. Would he reuse the Illusion Array as a targeting spell? Yet Mososbury’s major families in the stands wouldn’t be fooled.

Alexis met Midi’s probing with icy disdain. “Don’t flatter yourself for crushing Uday or earning Zaknavan’s fawning. My methods are none of your concern—you’ll witness them soon enough.” Ghostfire flickered in his eyes as cheers erupted—the final match draw was announced.

Midi’s gaze sharpened. His path to victory required defeating Ulhan first, then Risen, before confronting Alexis in the finals. Two top contenders blocked his bracket, while Alexis’s side held no equal.

“Fate’s Choice drained all our luck,” Rot sighed.

“Or this is its trial,” Midi countered, smiling.