Revive Rome: Wait! Why not make the empress fall in love with me first?
Chapter 47 - 47 38 Promotion to level 2

47: Chapter 38: Promotion to level 2 47: Chapter 38: Promotion to level 2 Barbarian Warrior’s weapon was knocked away, and he knelt on the ground, weakened.

Sigrdrifa forcefully delivered an axe blow that nearly shattered his ribs, leaving him unable to rise from the ground.

Dropping the broken weapon he held, Aske’s gaze swept the ground and casually picked up a Two-handed Greatsword.

The spectator stands erupted completely, with many spectators almost simultaneously standing up and shouting the nickname “Viking” excitedly, their voices nearly piercing the heavens.

At the other end of the Duel Arena, a blood-soaked Saiotis dropped his weapon and knelt to surrender, his eyes filled with frustration and fear of failure.

The Barbarian team leader, nicknamed “Ice Plain Wolf” Yeate, a Northlander with a bristly beard, turned around with a mocking smile, his face smeared with red ochre battle paint and flames seemingly burning in his eyes.

“Vikings?” His voice was cold and hoarse, as if abraded by sandpaper, “Just a flock of weak Sirius lambs daring to name themselves after the heroes of the North?”

These words provoked the masses, and the audience booths nearly exploded on the spot, with many spectators even climbing onto their chairs, yelling furiously at him.

In the VIP box, the expressions of the Imperial Guard officers were also grim, only Michael remained expressionless, his eyes slightly gloomy.

An explanation is needed here: historically, the Ancient Solomon Republic conquered Sirius militarily, while Sirius, with its advanced cultural industry, in turn, conquered the East Solomon.

Today’s East Solomon Empire has completely embraced the culture of Sirius; citizens are keen on watching Sirius dramas and films, reading Sirius novels and poems, and even their speech and writing used the Sirius language rather than Latin.

However, racial identity is absolutely non-negotiable.

Inheriting from the Ancient Solomon Empire, the identity of the Solomon people is what the citizens of Constantinople are most proud of.

Calling them “Sirius people” equates to calling them “primitive,” which is an action more malicious than killing them.

Thus, Aske explained in a low voice for a few moments, and Sigrdrifa then understood, responding “Oh, that’s terribly malicious.

Are you going to duel him?”

“Duel?” Aske asked.

“He insulted your race.

To restore your honor, you should challenge him to a holy duel.” Sigrdrifa logically stated, “Here, take my axe, and throw it at his feet.”

What my race, I’m actually Chinese, okay?

Aske thought wryly to himself, but stuck in this NPC body it was hard to explain, so he simply took her axe and threw it at the feet of the “Ice Plain Wolf.”

“I accept your challenge,” Ice Plain Wolf sneered as he picked up the axe from the ground.

He had observed the cooperation between Aske and Sigrdrifa in killing enemies, which left him both amazed and fearful, knowing full well he couldn’t beat the two of them together, so he deliberately insulted Aske to provoke him into initiating a duel, thereby forcibly creating a one-on-one situation.

“Let’s make it quick,” Aske said, lifting up the Two-handed Greatsword.

Both men armed, they charged at each other simultaneously, their figures instantly passing by each other.

Aske turned around, dropping the Two-handed Greatsword onto the ground.

Ice Plain Wolf, maintaining the position of his slash, suddenly discovered with horror the intense pain spreading from the left side of his neck to his right abdomen.

“…So fast… When did… his sword…” he mumbled, mouth agape, unable to make any sound.

His thoughts shattered into fragmented snippets as his body swayed and he collapsed to the ground, succumbing to severe, life-threatening injuries.

Before the host could announce the final victory result, order in the spectator stands had already completely collapsed.

Numerous young citizens clambered over the railings, hoisting Aske up in the pose of a victor, howling as they began a parade around the arena.

The rest picked up the weapons of the defeated and the dead, raising them high as they followed the parade, singing the victor’s ballad.

Not until the frenzied celebration dispersed was the Duel Gold Cup delivered by Sadric.

According to Duel Arena rules, it should be hoisted collectively by all the Red Team gladiators.

However, looking around, Aske saw that only Sigrdrifa stood by his side of the three remaining, as Saiotis, who had surrendered to survive, had long disappeared.

“Then it shall be this way,” Sigrdrifa winked at him, smiling to reveal a mouthful of white fine teeth, and together with Aske, they lifted the Duel Gold Cup amid cheers and applause from the audience.

Subsequently, the “Daily Champion”—without a doubt—also fell to Aske.

Sadric led him to the honor room inside the Duel Arena, which displayed the various memorabilia of previous “Daily Champions.”

Aske was first required to take a photo, then he left a hand and footprint in the mud, following which he received a medal made of Magic Copper.

“At last, we come to our award segment,” Sadric cleared his throat, his face bright with a smile, “A prize worth 500 pounds, which can also be converted into cash.”

“What rewards are available?” Aske asked, having prepared in advance.

“The most popular are, of course, weapons and armor,” Sadric produced a catalog, “Let me see, the most redeemed is a set of ‘Lawbreaker’ Armor + Shield, cast entirely from Magic Copper.”

“This mysterious mineral can shield you from the influence of Extraordinary Power, protecting you from any spiritual ability attacks and disturbances.

If you choose Mithril and Aurum instead, you can only select weapons, and those come without any Array.”

“Next would be medicine rich in Spirituality.

We have a large 500 ml bottle of Life Essence Stamina, which can completely heal your injuries or any disease dozens of times.”

“Also, there are Magic Potions and Magic Potion Recipes, but they’re all Duel Sequence tier, you might not be too interested in those…”

“How much for the Magic Potion?” Aske interrupted him.

“Currently, we only have Level I Magic Potions, each priced at 400 pounds.” Sadric blinked, “The recipe goes for 100 pounds each.”

“I’ll go with the Magic Potion, ‘Sharp Weapon I’,” Aske said, “Convert the rest into cash.”

Sadric didn’t speak, just clapped his hands, and soon a servant brought over a bottle of Magic Potion.

The bottle labeled “Sharp Weapon I” had a metallic silver-white color, with chaotic and sharp lines, as if containing innumerable tiny iron fragments, slowly swirling around the center.

“Is there a quiet room?” asked Aske.

His “Perfect Physique X” had been completely assimilated during the duel, so he could immediately consume another Magic Potion.

“Yes, we have an East Solomon style meditation room,” Sadric replied.

He led Aske to a small compartment at the end of the hallway, unlocked the door with a key, and then turned and left.

Aske entered the compartment, sat on the only cushion, and opened the bottle of Magic Potion.

Upon drinking the Magic Potion, his eyes immediately widened.

All his hair turned silver-white and stood straight up like a hedgehog or porcupine on alert.

His veins bulged all over his body, trembling and buzzing as if thousands of blades were slashing inside.

A hot foulness climbed up from his esophagus to his throat, bringing intense, knife-like pain.

He knew it was the conflict between “Perfect Physique X” and “Sharp Weapon I,” so he forcefully suppressed any reaction.

Suddenly, a gash burst open on his face, clean as if sliced by a blade, followed by a second, then a third…

Countless gashes burst open all over his skin, and combined with his cold, impassive facial expression, he looked almost like a blood-soaked demon.

Eventually, the gashes slowly closed and healed, leaving only faint fresh scars.

He took a deep breath and stood up.

“Sharp Weapon I” had been preliminarily metabolized, and extensive knowledge about sharp weapons flooded his mind—some were familiar to him, but much was new.

In his previous life’s game, even in fully immersive VR games, it was impossible to instill memories into a player’s mind.

Thus, the effect of consuming “Sharp Weapon I” in the game was to provide system corrections and data visualization when the player used sharp weapons.

Now, however, Aske gained complete knowledge about using sharp weapons like an NPC, deepening his understanding of this world’s combat system.

He advanced to level 2, taking another step towards becoming a “Weapon Master.”

The next Magic Potion was “Evasion I.”

Taking the remaining 100 pounds as a reward, Aske left the arena, only to see Sigrdrifa waiting outside.

The extremely slender androgynous beauty, currently not wearing any armor, continually attracted the attention of passersby.

“Where’s your armor?” Aske asked.

“It was confiscated by the Duel Arena,” Sigrdrifa replied dejectedly, not hiding the annoyance in her tone.

“No worries,” Aske consoled her, “since you’ve joined my team, we’ll certainly equip you with weapons and armor.”

“That’s good,” Sigrdrifa’s face immediately lit up with a smile.

The joy of a weapon enthusiast is that simple.

In the red team’s underground training area of the Duel Arena, Saiotis silently stared at the Duel Gold Cup, which no one wanted and carelessly strewn on the floor, his expression complex and lost.

It turned out, the person he had always viewed as an enemy had actually never considered him a threat from beginning to end.

…

After bringing Sigrdrifa back to the ancestral home, Aske pushed open the door, only to see a young girl rummaging through the living room.

Hearing the door open, she abruptly turned her head.

“Are you…

Mia?” Aske tentatively said, recognizing the girl named Mia Xinkuimani from the Thief Guild, who had once helped him obtain Spiritual Material.

Mia’s expression froze, a fleeting look of guilt passed over her face, then she quickly adjusted to act as if nothing had happened, and said:

“Cough cough, our guild recently discovered a batch of luxury goods entering the market, so I was sent to investigate if any nobles, due to financial strain, were planning to sell furniture for money.

I ended up tracing it back to your house…”

“Ah, if you’re short on money you could have just told us, things like silver cups, silver candlesticks, paintings and so on, our guild can buy them at a very reasonable price.”

“A thief?” Sigrdrifa looked at her, then asked Aske.

“No, no, no,” Mia hastily explained, “how could I steal from Lord Achilles?

I know him, we’ve had dealings and done business before.”

“I have indeed been selling things lately,” Aske ignored her defense, simply stating, “The Church Knights came to my house earlier and broke many things, so I’m just selling these damaged goods.

Miss Mia, you’re a bit late, I reckon most of the stuff has already been sold.”

“That’s good, that’s good,” Mia subconsciously echoed, unsure what was actually good about it, then suddenly asked, “Did you form a Mercenary Group?”

“Yes, I did.

Why?”

“Do you need a Thief?” Mia showed a flattering smile.

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