Catastrophe Card King
Chapter 1741 - 529: I Have Entered the Holy Realm

Chapter 1741: Chapter 529: I Have Entered the Holy Realm

"King of the Gladiators Challenge" is the liveliest competition in the Southern Continent.

It’s like the World Cup from Leonard Churchill’s previous life.

Especially the finals, which have always attracted numerous nobles from the Three Great Kingdoms to watch the event live.

Whichever city hosts it, each final attracts millions of spectators from all over the Southern Continent to join this dueling feast.

Due to the war this year, the finals were held in Giant Spirit City at the far south.

This also brought a massive influx of outsiders to the city.

On this day, at the central Gladiator Arena in Giant Spirit City.

Leonard Churchill arrived early, but spectators had already started to trickle in.

On the tall stone steps, there were people everywhere.

The posters of the top ten finalists in the gladiator competition were hanging at the most conspicuous position of the main entrance of the arena.

A row of betting booths at the entrance was crowded with bettors placing their bets.

This is a gambling frenzy for the Commerce Guild, and also an annual occasion where gamblers become rich overnight.

Leonard Churchill, holding a betting handbook, walked while flipping through it, occasionally muttering, "Tsk tsk, the major Commerce Guilds this time even brought tens of thousands of War Slaves here... That Lord of Soldier Calamity, isn’t he thinking of starting a slave rebellion?"

Speculating, he had already reached an empty corner.

He figured out the direction, patted his pocket, and suddenly a twisting vortex appeared on the stone wall in front of him.

Leonard Churchill stepped in, the scenery around him changed, and he was already in the basement of the Gladiator Arena.

This is where the competing gladiators rest.

It’s also the best opportunity to get in touch with Barre Shepherd.

...

Before long, Leonard Churchill changed his face, swapped places with a staff member, and then swaggered past.

He had spent some money beforehand and knew Barre Shepherd was in cabin number 9.

So, he went straight there.

Because Barre Shepherd is a slave, his cabin is a cell. Not only guarded by soldiers, his limbs and neck were also locked with heavy iron chains and an explosive collar.

Leonard Churchill had just walked over when he saw Barre Shepherd, who was meditating cross-legged in the cage.

After advancing to the Seventh Rank, this old man’s mental state seemed even better.

Leonard Churchill only took one look, and from his long rhythmic breathing, he could tell that his strength had likely improved again.

Yet before he could speak, the old man suddenly opened his eyes, apparently not surprised: "Leonard Churchill, long time no see."

Leonard Churchill was also slightly surprised, and greeted: "Senior, how did you recognize me?"

Barre Shepherd replied calmly, "Appearance may change, but the air doesn’t change."

Listening, Leonard Churchill was a bit shocked, "Senior, has your realm improved again?"

As of now, he himself couldn’t identify someone merely by their air.

He then said, "But it seems like you knew I would come?"

Barre Shepherd still had that detached expression, seemingly without much hope of escaping: "Master Merlin had someone send word to me, saying that you might come."

"Oh."

Leonard Churchill then realized.

When he saw Noah Wright in the Death Domain, he guessed that Master Merlin must also have come to the Southern Continent.

The two seniors are close friends, surely they would find a way to rescue.

But to think, Master Merlin’s method was to wait for him to come to the rescue?

Ha ha.

Funny old men.

Leonard Churchill self-mockingly chuckled.

Since he has already seen the person, and Barre Shepherd is not going anywhere for now, Leonard Churchill gestured with the betting handbook in his hand and simply asked, "By the way, Old Man, I saw your record. How did you manage to lose a few matches previously?"

"Lose?"

Barre Shepherd scoffed disdainfully, "Except when I first came to the Southern Continent and was caught by an Eighth Rank Grandmaster of the Extreme Intent Wave Fist sect, when have I ever lost?"

Listening, Leonard Churchill wasn’t surprised and said, "Oh, right. I thought as much. It must be the organizers scribbling nonsense."

Thinking about something, he reminded, "But senior, be more careful. I suspect the organizers might create an upset this finals. You might face difficulties in your match."

Barre Shepherd’s character can’t be concealed; if he fights even once, bettors will recognize his strength is very likely to win the championship.

Subsequent bets might completely lean towards Barre Shepherd, turning upsets unlikely and causing ethical bankruptcy.

Fighting fair and square, Leonard Churchill doesn’t think Barre Shepherd would fear anything.

But he’s worried about the organizers pulling some tricks.

Like poisoning, for example.

Listening, Barre Shepherd remained indifferent: "I know. Those people had me throw matches before, I didn’t agree. They won’t let me live. This time, there must be a very strong contender among the participants. I sensed his air before..."

"Oh..."

Listening, Leonard Churchill didn’t say more.

Since Barre Shepherd was aware of the situation, there was no need for him to worry.

Although the old man might lack a bit in emotional intelligence, his wisdom is indeed high.

As he spoke, Leonard Churchill flicked Gamil’s Omnipotent Key into the cell.

The explosive collar on Barre Shepherd’s neck was the highest tier of encrypted collar, only a specialized key could unlock it. It was his primary restraint.

By giving Barre Shepherd the Universal Key, it was now up to him when he wanted to break free, not the slaveholders.

Barre Shepherd’s hands and feet were shackled, and he didn’t grab it, but the card that flew to his side was delicately controlled by an air current and hidden in a dark place.

Having accomplished his aim, and considering that the competition would start soon, Leonard Churchill, smiling, asked another question: "Senior, I bet on you winning. Your next match is against ’Black Sword’ Marikas. How many rounds do you think you’ll take to win the match? I’m planning to place more bets."

"You kid..."

Upon hearing this, Barre Shepherd rolled his eyes speechlessly, but after a pause, the old man said with the calmest expression the most contradictory words: "Which number of rounds has the highest odds? Help me place a bet too."

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