Chapter 468

Chapter 468: Warrior Thor

Originally, in Risen’s condition, he hadn’t even qualified for the Fighter Selection and was considered worthless.

But after Midi’s visit brought him a seventh-grade Calming Potion, he recovered enough to earn his family’s qualification for the selection.

Yet now, sitting in the contestant area below, the Black Dragonkin wasn’t watching his own family’s three core disciples. His gaze fixed instead on the seating section of the Death Scorpion family.

There sat Simon, eldest son of the Death Scorpion family, now at peak-level 65 and occupying the chief core disciple’s seat.

Beside him was Alexis.

This former Wolfspider tribe chief warrior had betrayed his people, defeated Risen to gain status, and been recruited by the Death Scorpion family. Within a month, he’d become a core disciple without even needing to participate in the selection – now sitting proudly beside Simon.

"Alexis…" Risen narrowed his eyes at his elevated rival.

He bore no grudge against the Flame Serpent family for abandoning him. Worthless beings had no survival rights in the Shaded Realm.

What burned in his gut was never understanding how Alexis had defeated him that day. Being used as stepping stone left his pride bruised.

"He’s the type who devours men whole without spitting bones," Zaknavan remarked nearby. "I remember Alexis rising fast in Wolfspider too. Though found like the rest of us, he skipped slavery to become warrior, then Great Warrior in record time."

"He’s… opaque," Mason sighed. "Avoiding fighting him in the selection might be a blessing."

Midi’s influence had forged this unlikely trio – Zaknavan, Mason, and Risen from different families, united by marginal status and drawn to Midi’s team proposal.

Provided they survived this selection.

"Hope we don’t face Midi," Risen grumbled. "At least not in the preliminary round."

Black Dragonkin disdained holding back in the arena, even against benefactors.

"You think trying harder would beat Midi?" Mason snorted, rolling his eyes.

Risen’s scaled face flushed. Before he could retort, tsunami-like cheers erupted from the stands.

The Death Scorpion family’s core disciples had arrived.

Fourth-ranked Nym – Level 64 master assassin.

Third-ranked Akdina – Level 65 small success gunner.

Second-ranked Loki – Level 65 peak Ghost Cry, silent as always.

These three made Death Scorpion seem comparable to other families. Then came the game-changer.

Thor. Death Scorpion’s chief core disciple.

Battle Mage.

Level 67 small success.

Level 67. Let that sink in.

Other Three Major Families’ heads all stood at Level 67 peak. Their hidden Great Elders? Maybe Level 68.

Meaning this rising star already matched major family heads in Personal Power.

His cultivation wasn’t just a step above the other core members of the family—it surpassed them by an entire level!

When Thor, the chief core disciple of the Death Scorpion family, rose to his feet, the arena first fell silent, then erupted in shock and clamor.

The arrogant core disciples from other major families, who had earlier stood tall with unyielding pride, instinctively lowered their heads at the sight of Thor.

All of them were at Level 65, none able to break past that barrier. Yet Thor, only twenty-three years old, had already reached Level 67.

The absence of Level 66 now seemed like an impassable chasm, separating the True Expert from those who merely posed as strong.

No words were needed. Thor’s mere presence declared it all—

The Death Scorpion had endured for a thousand years, and it would remain Mososbury City’s first family for ages to come.

“‘Warrior’ Thor…” Simon’s face darkened. His own peak Level 65 should have placed him among the city’s top young elites.

But Thor’s appearance instantly reduced the chief disciples of the Three Major Families to second-rate status.

How could Simon, always prideful, stomach this?

Yet Level 67 was too overwhelming. Even simmering with resentment, Simon dared not speak recklessly.

They weren’t even comparable. If Simon was a genius among elites, Thor’s power rivaled that of a family head.

What competition could there be?

Frustrated and powerless, Simon sought to redirect his rage. After glaring hatefully at Thor, he turned his attention to Death Scorpion’s selection team below.

A cold smirk twisted his lips. “Hm? That foolish human who insulted me… Did he even qualify for the selection?”

“Oh?” Alexis’s expression shifted slightly.

Though never clashing directly with Midi, Alexis’s psychic senses gave him sharper insight. During the bonfire gathering, Midi—though Level 62—had handled Level 65 practitioners easily, likely hiding trump cards.

Death Scorpion was strong, but surely Midi wouldn’t fail to qualify.

“That wretched Master Hawke invited that human to humiliate me. Now the family’s higher-ups must be censuring him,” Simon sneered, malice dripping from his words.

Meanwhile, Risen, Zaknavan, and Mason noticed Midi’s absence too.

They’d planned to discuss tactics if matched against each other in the selection. But Midi was nowhere in the preparation area.

“Impossible. With his strength, how could Death Scorpion deny him a spot?” Risen frowned.

“Internal politics?” suggested Zaknavan, his own past persecution in the City of Fierce Wind coloring his thoughts.

All three tensed. While they didn’t need Midi to strategize, his absence spelled danger. Even if they became fighters, surviving Crystal Dragon Fortress without him seemed unlikely.

As Simon gloated, Alexis grew suspicious, and the trio worried, a commotion broke out at the arena’s main entrance.

Midi had arrived.

After two weeks in seclusion, he’d learned the selection’s location too late. Rushing there on an underground lizard, he found the city council’s guards barring the sealed entrance.

He raised Death Scorpion’s banner, but his outdated “high-ranking alchemist” badge—not yet replaced with “core member”—only deepened the guards’ suspicion.

A familiar venomous voice cut through the tension.

“Midi Asreks! A selector arriving late—do you mock the Mososbury City Council?” Simon marched forward with a retinue, Alexis trailing silently.

Across the entrance, Risen and the others paled. Late arrivals could still join if they arrived before the blood oath. But Simon’s public confrontation risked inflaming the situation—turning tardiness into rule-breaking, costing Midi his qualification.

Midi blinked, then grasped their scheme. A faint mocking smile flickered across his lips.

“The council surely understands occasional delays. It’s trivial. Will you really block my entry?” he replied casually.

“Audacious!” Simon roared—feigning anger while inwardly rejoicing. Had Midi been humble, Death Scorpion’s influence might have saved him. But defiance? Now the council would have to choose between a human outsider and a core disciple’s dignity.

“You exaggerate, Mr. Simon,” Midi said lightly, his calm grating on Simon’s nerves.

“Disrespecting the selection and council rules insults the Dark Dragon God! I demand your disqualification, even if you’re Death Scorpion’s—”

A bone-chilling aura froze the air across hundreds of meters.

Then he appeared—tall, commanding, radiating power.

Warrior Thor, Mososbury City’s undisputed champion.