Chapter 45: Galactic Arena Tournament

Galactic Tournament

The Galactic Tournament, organized by the Gula Consortium, commenced under the watchful eyes of countless spectators.

Saints from across the world, having returned from their rigorous training, donned the Sacred Cloths of their guardian constellations and fought with all their might for the coveted Sagittarius Gold Cloth.

The first day’s grand battle featured Seiya of Pegasus clashing against Geki of the Bear. Geki, the Bear Saint, possessed the strength to strangle a black bear with his bare hands. Though only sixteen, his towering stature and robust physique made him many times stronger than the frail Seiya.

Yet, no matter how many muscles one had, they were of little use before a Saint. In battles between Saints, everything depended on the power of one’s inner cosmos—the greater the cosmos, the more tremendous the force unleashed.

As Seiya’s throat was gripped tight, suffocating, he awakened to the power of his cosmos, shattering Geki’s arm in an instant. He then delivered a flurry of kicks, smashing Geki’s Bronze Cloth to pieces.

With a deft flip, Seiya landed gracefully on the ground.

Naturally, Seiya instantly drew the attention of the other Saints. Even Jabu of Unicorn looked on in alarm.

With a victory worthy of a hero, the flashes of cameras lit up the scene in a frenzy—surely, Seiya would be the headline in tomorrow’s news.

In the audience, Feng Zhe yawned. These bronze-level brawls held not the slightest interest for him.

The second match, Hyoga of Cygnus versus Hydra’s Ichi, was even duller. Hyoga, with an air of indifference, easily won using his unique, frosty cosmos. Hydra’s Bronze Cloth was shattered by just one of Hyoga’s punches.

“Are Bronze Cloths really this fragile?”

Feng Zhe pondered the nature of the Bronze Cloths. While it was true that overall, Bronze Cloths fell far short of Silver or Gold Cloths in both material and resilience, they were still among the eighty-eight Sacred Cloths.

Granted, the Cloths could automatically repair themselves within their cases, but this seemed far too fragile.

“It seems I must hasten the improvements to the Bronze Cloths when I return to the Sanctuary.”

Thinking of the Sanctuary, Feng Zhe felt another wave of frustration. As the acting Pope, he was indeed too busy, with many matters left unattended.

The third battle, at least, was worth watching: Seiya of Pegasus versus Shiryu of the Dragon.

Perhaps it was the memory of the Holy War seventeen hundred and forty-three years ago, and his close friendship with the then-Dragon Saint, Dohko.

When Feng Zhe once again saw Shiryu wearing the Dragon Cloth, a spark of anticipation arose within him.

Sure enough, as the battle began, Shiryu pummeled Seiya until the latter coughed blood and could no longer rise.

“Interesting. Shiryu has already reached the level of a high-tier Bronze Saint.”

Among these fighters, aside from Seiya whose strength swung unpredictably, Shiryu was clearly the most stable. Evidently, Shiryu had not wasted his time at the Five Old Peaks.

At that moment, Feng Zhe faintly heard the urgent voice of a young woman, desperate to enter the arena.

With a soft laugh, Feng Zhe leapt down, and before the woman—named Shunrei—could react, he struck her with a swift karate chop, knocking her unconscious.

He gently helped her to a seat at the side and refocused on the match.

To Feng Zhe’s surprise, Shunrei soon woke and began clamoring to see Shiryu.

Helpless, Feng Zhe leaned close and whispered something softly in her ear.

At once, Shunrei’s pupils contracted; she seemed deeply afraid of Feng Zhe and dared not raise her voice again.

“That’s better. Don’t worry, Dohko won’t die. Just watch the match.”

Shunrei nodded, though she still eyed Feng Zhe warily, clearly distrustful.

On stage, Shiryu unleashed punch after punch, thoroughly thrashing Seiya.

Feng Zhe watched with relish. He was curious to see just how much of a beating the Pegasus Saint could withstand.

At that moment, Shiryu’s gaze strayed to the audience and landed on Shunrei dressed in red.

“Shunrei!”

Hearing Shiryu’s voice, Shunrei could contain herself no longer and shouted, “Shiryu, Master is gravely ill, but it should be nothing serious!”

She glanced at Feng Zhe beside her, and as Shiryu’s eyes followed, they suddenly widened in recognition.

“You are…”

Just then, Seiya, swaying unsteadily, forced himself to stand once more.

It was as if Shiryu had been jolted to action; he turned back to Seiya and unleashed his ultimate technique with utmost seriousness.

Rozan Rising Dragon!

A phantom dragon coiled around Shiryu, its aura fierce and bloody, swallowing the frail Seiya in its wrath.

Seiya was blasted from the stage with such force that even Feng Zhe closed his eyes.

“Seiya has lost.”

That was Feng Zhe’s verdict, and Shiryu agreed, preparing to leap from the ring. Yet, Seiya moved once again.

“Hm?”

Feng Zhe’s eyes drifted to the dais where Lady Saori sat.

At the crucial moment, it was Lady Saori’s cosmos that revived Seiya.

“No wonder. That explains why, after so many brutal blows, Seiya could still discern Shiryu’s weakness and strike it so perfectly.”

So, Lady Saori had been enhancing him all along!

Feng Zhe smiled faintly, then spoke softly to Shunrei, “Take this talisman to Shiryu and tell him to place it over his heart.”

Shunrei, though puzzled, obeyed without question.

Shiryu gave Feng Zhe a meaningful look, then pressed the charm over his heart.

Pegasus Meteor Fist!

Seiya, back on his feet, unleashed over a hundred punches, all of which Shiryu blocked. Not a single mark appeared on the Dragon Shield.

In return, Shiryu shattered Seiya’s bracer with a single blow.

Seiya, battered and bruised, stood up again like an unyielding cockroach.

The crowd saw no hope for Seiya, but only Feng Zhe regarded Lady Saori on the dais with disapproval.

Once more, Seiya’s hypersensitivity flared, and by exploiting the principle of the strongest fist against the strongest shield, he forced Shiryu to destroy his own Dragon Shield at the cost of a bloodied head.

As the fight raged, Shiryu was about to strip off his Cloth entirely and challenge Seiya to a bare-knuckle duel, but a glance at Feng Zhe, who shook his head, made him reconsider.

He abandoned the idea and instead used Rozan Rising Dragon again.

Seiya, for his part, repeated the same few moves—Pegasus Meteor Fist.

Apparently dissatisfied with the result, Lady Saori further amplified her support.

Feng Zhe arched an eyebrow in resignation. “Such willfulness.”

Indeed, this time, Seiya saw through the Rozan Rising Dragon and, as he unleashed Pegasus Meteor Fist, several blows reached supersonic speed.

Shiryu was struck several times.

At last, Seiya noticed that in a fraction of a second, as Shiryu swung his Dragon Claw, his heart was exposed.

Seiya struck decisively, while Shiryu countered with Rozan Rising Dragon.

Seiya's fist landed squarely on Shiryu’s heart.

Shiryu was hurled from the stage, a depression visible over his heart where Seiya’s heavy punch had landed.

Seiya collapsed, utterly spent, while Shiryu’s heartbeat stopped.

A sudden hush fell over the arena.

No one saw that, on Shiryu’s heart, the talisman soaked in Athena’s blood allowed a single drop of divine blood to seep into his heart.

Instantly, Shiryu’s cosmos reawakened and his body began to levitate.

Lady Saori rose to her feet and shouted, “Who is interfering?!”