As the Eternal Sect entered, the host's ceremonial band's music abruptly stopped.

The funeral procession, without the sound of drums or music, slowly marched in Saleret's mind, and a violent burning sensation seemed to erect a tombstone.

In Liszt's anticipation.

The Lostra media released their publication just in time, barely an hour later, making its appearance at the continent martial arts meet.

The message they wanted to convey was clear: We dealt with this remnant of the previous dynasty for Aran, merits offset faults, and let's call everything off, don't pursue further.

However, this move was too explosive, and it was impossible to know how the Royal Court would interpret it, thus requiring an explanation as the coffin was opened.

And this golden commentator was precisely Saleret.

The magic beasts entering the venue were all of the glamorous and valuable types, one of which, escorted by Qiande and a group of Holy Knights, was brought in front of Gedre.

The entire venue, with over ten thousand attendees, filled with countless nobles, dignitaries, and wealthy merchants, all focused their attention on Gedre.

The High Priest of the Eternal Sect, sitting down, adorned with a dragon face helmet crafted from meteorite gold, gleaming brilliantly, resting his head on one hand, displaying arrogance.

Cicero's single eye flashed with contemplation.

"Lockhart, the things forcibly transported across the border a few days ago are below. Keep a close watch on what's about to happen."

Cicero spoke to Lockhart, the Ice Sea Superman and Imperial Guard Captain, who was also a past martial arts champion.

In recent years, the Sect had become increasingly arrogant and domineering, and the Pope's madness was beyond any cure, so who knew what astonishing event might occur later.

"Understood."

Lockhart, donned in silver-white armor, emanated a commanding and intimidating presence.

"Also, knock some sense into Gedre later."

Even without concrete evidence, it was found that this seemingly clean-background person was affiliated with the Beima Duchy, and Cicero wanted to take precautions.

"Understood."

Lockhart's gaze turned sharp as he stood at the edge of a special seat with the Black Sword Netherflame and another member. This way, he could protect Phoenix in case of any commotion and also enter the field at the first sign of danger to contain any threats.

"The Pope has also acknowledged the valor of this year's martial arts champion and arranged for a residence within the diocese, and these gifts are merely tokens of greeting."

Flowers and gold foil continued to float down from the arena sky, while at Qiande's indication, the Holy Knights under his command began opening the gift boxes carried on the backs of the magic beasts in sequence.

No one expected anything significant to happen and thought it was merely a demonstration of the Sect's financial power.

The dozen or more gift boxes were opened one by one.

They all contained rare and expensive items, gemstones, jade, treasures, silk, all unmatched in their respective fields, with a starting value of a hundred thousand Golden Dragons.

All the treasures exuded an enchanting brilliance, making the already dreamy venue even more ethereal. Gazing at these treasures was like staring through pieces of the past, a glimpse into the remnants of a brutally extreme battle, moments frozen by blood and sweat.

Among the sixteen finalists present, Louis, Ivanovic, and others had eyes fixed in a daze, regretting not being the champion. With these items, they wouldn't need to work anymore and could live in luxury forever.

Even though the audience was filled with people of power, the scale of such lavish presents was beyond comprehension, fitting only for the grandeur of the continent martial arts meet; everything seemed so exaggerated.

Yet Gedre showed no reaction, his face utterly sullen, as these items had no place on Hell Road.

The disgust for the Eternal Sect was in no way less than that of the Aran Royal Court.

Multiple Cardinal Churches had long been established in the Beima Duchy. Under the rivalry between Rodrigo the Eleventh and the Puppet King, the lords took sides, turning the country into a robber state.

To live peacefully, countless people joined the Eternal Sect, becoming religious zealots, and even students considered it an honor to attend church schools.

Subtly consuming the soul of the Beima people, absorbing talents and fresh blood back to Aran.

The cradle had also become a new tombstone, clouding the eyes of countless youths.

Gedre remained unmoved.

"Besides these gifts, there's a grander one."

Qiande paused for a moment, as per the Pope's directive, to call a name.

To name that person and show them where they stand.

She personally approached the silver-backed beast carrying the enormous gift box, her voice solemn, "This grand gift is from the decisive battle at the Old Aran Royal City many years ago, something the Emperor also dealt with, rarely seen in the world, and a symbol of honor, gifted to this year's martial arts champion."

The crowd erupted, whispering among themselves.

It was time for the Eternal Sect's traditional spectacle of humiliation, a familiar sight each year.

But this time, it was different, going a bit too far.

Because 'Emperor' had gradually become a derogatory term, in public occasions, Aran people should refer to the king as the "King."

In other words…

Under the Pope's direction, Qiande openly named the Emperor in front of countless eyes, calling you out.

Gren and Galen could sense the shift in the atmosphere, with the previously celebratory crowd now bearing a serious attitude, focusing on current political intrigues.

"Old Aran?"

Though Gren was well-taught and literate, his cultural knowledge was purely at the level of Heaven Port.

"It's a dragon, right."

Galen, being Aran, immediately associated this, having never seen a dragon in his life.

"Something Father dealt with back then?"

Phoenix was uneasy but under Cicero's gaze, remained firmly seated on the throne.

The evening was meant to elevate Phoenix's prestige, such matters shouldn't ruffle him, or how could he inherit the royal mandate?

Cicero, fearing chaos, motioned again to Lockhart.

Lockhart, too, placed a powerfully steady hand on his sword, ready for any unforeseen developments.

The largest gift box, carried by Holy Knights, was placed in front of Gedre, over a bed of flowers and gold foil, producing a rustling sound.

Bai Xing and Xiao Long had seen real Flying Dragons before, nothing surprising, but others had not experienced such sights.

Kai Deng's eyes flashed, pondering deeply, as he stared at the massive gift box, wondering whether it was the dragon called Fafna that had died, or was it Garscek?

Indeed, the Black Sail winning the battle at Mulong couldn't have been without a cost.

Instantly, associating it with those two Dragon Girls.

Qiande personally unpacked the gigantic gift box over three meters long and over a meter wide, untying the gilded ribbon, pulling away the luxurious silk covering.

What emerged was an exquisitely carved wooden box, made from the top-notch material.

No one would think of it as a coffin.

"People all believe the Emperor's dragon capturing prowess was unmatched back then, but there's nothing much to it."

Under the Pope's auspices, Qiande naturally dared to boast unrestrainedly.

Saleret took a deep breath.

As innumerable eyes awaited to glimpse the legendary Flying Dragon.

Qiande broke open the sealing wax and soon... lifted the lid of the coffin, pushing it aside.

The disguise technique performed by professors of the Pedan National Academy only worked in an enclosed environment, once exposed, the magic power dissipated, quickly revealing its original form.

Inside the box was indeed the remnants of a dragon's corpse, its body a sacred relic filled with magical materials, adorned with horns and scales.

But it didn't take more than ten seconds…

A peculiar spell power mist began emanating, some structure of magic technique's stability ruined, magic power turned into rising steam and vanished.

Revealing, unmistakably, a corpse!

Just as Qiande claimed, it was something the Emperor dealt with during the Old Aran Royal City battle many years ago, but not a dragon.

But the hunted prey of Old Aran, the deputy head of the Secret Department, Zote, stepped on by Liszt and his group in the recent newspaper exposé!

Distant spectators couldn't see clearly what it was, sensing only the frenzied commotion in the front rows, and people from the Royal Family's special seats and military government, as well as many international guests, many stood up.

An overwhelmingly dark mania engulfed the entire venue.

"How is that possible?"

Even Qiande was panic-stricken, retreating two steps, nearby Holy Knights sensing something amiss, hurriedly re-sealed the coffin.

The jaws of the sixteen finalists around nearly dropped to the ground; many didn't recognize Zote, yet had familiarized from the explosive recent news.

As the Second Prince, Phoenix was completely stunned, frozen in place, only turning his eyes toward Cicero.

Now it seemed hiding or playing deaf wouldn't be viable.

Cicero now finally understood the timed news release reason, but… was still in shock from witnessing that person, unable to recover for a long time.

Liszt.

Has overturned the world.

And at the church's special seating.

"Quickly... quickly bring that adjutant here!"

The High Priest pounded on the armrest of his throne, instructing the Time Sword from the Judgement Court beside him.