An Understated Dominance - Chapter 2317

“Grand Sorceress, these treasures are too valuable. I can’t accept them,” Azalea said, surprised by the beautiful array of items in front of her.

When Abigail had previously given her the Elysian Amulet and Gerandium, it had already caused some stir. Accepting these new treasures would surely make her a target of jealousy and resentment among the Mystic Arts Order members.

“Valuable? I earned all these from the betting pool I set up. I didn’t spend a dime. Just take them, and don’t worry. If anyone talks, I’ll handle it,” Abigail replied, glancing around.

The nearby Mystic Arts Order members were startled and quickly looked away, pretending not to notice. They knew well what Abigail could do. After becoming the Grand Sorceress, she quickly dealt with any dissent within the Mystic Arts Order, using swift and harsh methods.

Anyone who opposed her, from elders to disciples, was either imprisoned or killed, spreading fear throughout the order.

But after her reforms, they were amazed to see the order not only survive but thrive. It attracted many talented new disciples and became more united and stronger than ever.

Eventually, they realized that those Abigail had removed were like parasites in the Mystic Arts Order. They had hoarded power and resources for themselves, caring little for the guild’s growth.

Some even controlled the basic pathways for disciples to advance, making it nearly impossible for those without connections to access resources or rise in rank.

When Abigail took charge, everything changed. Though her methods were strict and ruthless, she was fair and just. Because of this, she earned the loyalty of all the disciples.

Within the Mystic Arts Order, Abigail held all the power. No one dared to challenge her, for those who did would pay with their lives.

Azalea felt uneasy. Abigail had always treated her well and provided her with the best. Although Azalea could handle any jealousy from others, she worried about Abigail. As the Grand Sorceress, Abigail’s favoritism might invite criticism from the other disciples.

“Please, stop turning down my offer,” Abigail urged. “Think of these treasures as a loan. You can return them after you win the match.” She hoped this would convince Azalea.

Abigail believed that if Azalea won, it was only right to reward her with the treasures.

“Okay, I’ll borrow them for now,” Azalea finally agreed. With the idea of a loan, she felt less pressure to refuse.

After the second match wrapped up, the third match was set to begin.

Oron stepped forward and announced, “We’re starting the third match. Contestants number three and 30, please come to the ring.”

As soon as he finished speaking, a figure jumped from the crowd, performing flips in the air before landing gracefully in the ring. It was Jermaine, known for his hat and the long sword strapped to his back.

As the chief senior disciple of the Soultech Union, Jermaine was famous in the martial world. The audience erupted in cheers as he appeared.

“Giant! Come up here and face your doom!” Jermaine called out confidently, pointing at George, who stood below the ring. His voice was filled with determination.

Both Jermaine and George knew who their opponents were, having shown each other their number balls earlier. George responded with a throat-slashing gesture, taunting Jermaine.

Jermaine was frustrated. Now he was determined to defeat George with all his strength in the ring.

A deep, rumbling laugh echoed through the venue.

George, towering at over six feet six inches and with a muscular build, walked toward the battle ring with an intimidating presence. As someone passionate about fighting, he had been waiting for this moment to show his true power.

“Martial artist from Dragonmarsh, meeting me will be the worst mistake of your life. Soon, you will know what hell feels like!” he declared.

As he stepped into the ring, his shoulders flexed, and his muscles gleamed in the sunlight, shining like black obsidian.

“Hmph! You think you can scare me? Just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean I’m afraid,” Jermaine replied, maintaining a cold and fearless look. He had faced many strong opponents before, and he had come out on top.

Though George’s muscles looked strong, Jermaine knew that strength alone wouldn’t win the fight. He was confident that his skills would allow him to outmaneuver George.

“Fine. I hope you hold onto your courage when I’m standing over you later,” George sneered, eyeing Jermaine like he was already beaten.

“Enough talk! If you have the guts, come at me!” Jermaine shouted, drawing his long sword with fierce determination.

George paused for a moment, glancing at Oron. He remembered what had happened to Bill earlier and wanted to stay alert until the match officially started.

“Are both contestants ready?” Oron asked, looking at them. After they nodded, he announced loudly, “Great. The third match officially begins!”

As soon as Oron finished speaking, Jermaine sprang into action.

“Go to hell!” He launched forward with powerful strides, lunging at George like a tiger, his long sword ready.

He swung it quickly towards George’s neck, a blur of movement. In his mind, he thought, “What good are those muscles? I can take you down with one clean strike!”