If one day Priscilla's emblem awakens, then there should no longer be any warrior on this continent whose strength can surpass hers.

This is Priscilla Valentino, the princess of the kingdom.

"Daughter! Don't be so arrogant in front of outsiders. Look, that gray-armored knight standing in the very center of the arena is the warrior who has won ten consecutive victories today!"

The king raised his hand and pointed to the knight standing in the center of the arena.

Priscilla gazed down at today’s winner from her vantage point.

Inside the arena, as the howls echoed all around, raising clouds of yellow sand, the victor's body stood firm and unmoving amidst the sand's shadows, his powerful aura evident.

The Gray Knight wielded two heavy double-bladed greatswords in each hand—great swords that originally required the use of both hands to wield.

Today, this muscular knight seems to be able to wield his weapon with ease, even with just one hand.

He walked towards the King and Priscilla;

His footprints on the yellow sand were deeply visible. Yet his gait did not appear clumsy at all; on the contrary, it exuded an air of authority.

He planted his two swords upside down in the ground and gave the King of Valentino a respectful knightly salute.

He then peered through the gaps in his helmet, casting a menacing glance around as he searched for and "invited" the remaining opponents to engage him in a fierce battle.

Those eyes seemed to be already savoring the wine of victory.

The mere sight of him wielding his greatsword was enough to inspire fear—and almost all the other knights who had not yet gone into battle cowered in the same way.

If they were touched by those two giant swords, they would undoubtedly be seriously injured, even if he spared their lives—they were almost all trembling with fear.

In other words, if no one else accepts his challenge, the Gray Knight will be the winner today.

The knight then looked at the king, eager for him to confirm his victory.

The king, through his men, bestowed upon him a cup of fine wine, and they drank together. The king then asked, "Warrior, you seem to be from outside the capital. What desire compels you to come to the capital and join the Royal Knights?"

He loosened the chin of his helmet, revealing his parched throat. Then he downed the crystal wine in his glass in one gulp.

"My long-cherished wish, besides joining the Royal Knights, is also to marry Princess Priscilla as my concubine!"

"..." The yellow sand stopped, and there was no sound.

The Ash Knight's arrogant words echoed in the air, freezing the atmosphere like a coagulant.

Before Wang answered the giant, no one dared to utter a sound, let alone swallow their saliva; they even had to carefully consider the sweat that was about to be produced.

"What?"

Those are taboo words.

Fan was so surprised that he stopped bringing the wine to his lips.

Priscilla jumped up on the spot, glaring angrily at the Gray Knight who seemed to be talking nonsense, too angry to speak.

"What kind of hero would dare to make such a bold request? Take off your helmet, warrior," the king said, pointing at him. His voice was devoid of any anger, but rather chillingly calm.

"Hehehe..."

With a strange, chilling laugh, the Gray Knight removed his metal helmet, revealing a face full of fleshy muscles. His face displayed a fierce and malevolent expression.

“My king, I will be loyal to you, as long as you will grant me the princess.”

Unexpectedly, the knight who won ten consecutive games today is actually a giant from the south—he is a barbarian living in the south of the continent of Valentino, who has long lived a free and unrestrained life, thus developing a savage character that is no different from that of a wild beast.

In Priscilla's eyes, the giant in front of her could hardly be called a knight; he was merely a beast clad in iron.

However, this savage and uncouth man actually boasted that he wanted to marry the princess.

What angered Priscilla even more was that he actually wanted her to be his "concubine"!

Because of this, her fair face turned bright red with anger.

Fan covered his lower face with his hand, trying to hide his barely suppressed laughter, which he almost let out. At the same time, he was also quite dissatisfied with the giant's frivolity and arrogance.

"What is the king's decision? I command 30,000 brave warriors in the southern border. A single decision from the king can either bring them all under his banner or incite them to seize the southern lands and establish their own independent kingdom!"

Faced with the giant's rude and impolite language, which could almost be called a threat, the king did not reply, as if there was no need to reply.

No one dared to breathe.

The giant, seemingly enraged by the king's disregard, raised his fist and roared, "The warriors I command are all fierce fighters! They don't even consider the Royal Knights a threat! Today, I too am the victor in the Royal Knights' training exercise..."

Fan looked behind the giant and interrupted his rude remarks without hesitation.

"No, there is still one opponent you have not yet defeated."

"Aren't my opponents all cowering like rats today, too afraid to utter a sound!"

"Warrior from the Southern Border, look behind you."

The giant turned around and saw a knight in pure white armor standing by the gate outside the dueling arena, the one used for knights to enter and exit. He seemed to be about to step into the arena.

Those who entered were wearing ordinary helmets, making it impossible to see their faces clearly;

All that could be clearly seen was a loose, leaf-like white braid hanging down the back of his head, making the knight appear quite young.

However, the pure white armor was worrying. No matter how you weighed it, it was only as thin as paper, and its defensive capabilities were very weak.

At the same time, it appears incredibly light.

His physique was far smaller than that of the giant from the southern barbarians, and his imposing presence was no more intimidating. Even his armor was thinner than the other man's.

Moreover, this knight did not carry any weapons such as spears or swords. Instead, he walked barehanded, his steps upright and brave, without looking back, onto the yellow sand of the arena.

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