Chapter 228: Newcomers
Soon, the two fiery streaks slowed down as they approached Tournament Island, gradually losing their blazing speed.
They descended gracefully, coming to a halt about five meters above the ground. As they hovered, their forms became more distinct: they were three-meter-tall humanoids, each with a glowing halo above their heads, one male and one female.
His skin was pale purple, casting a muted glow. His face, stern and uncompromising, bore sharp, angular features.
Eyes like molten fire burned with an intense, red-orange hue. Massive, curling horns jutted from his forehead, dark purple and adorned with golden bands near the base.
Long, pointed ears twitched slightly while two curved tusks extended from his lower jaw, enhancing his fierce look. A bifurcated beard, as purple as his skin, hung from his chin.
His hair, cascading down his broad shoulders, was the same deep purple, wild and untamed. The armor he wore was intricately designed, shoulder plates with elaborate engravings and gold trims catching the dim light.
His chest was protected by a large, ornate piece with a glowing purple gem at its center. Gold and purple intertwined throughout his armor, each piece meticulously crafted to fit him perfectly.
The woman beside him was a blend of human beauty and reptilian menace, her skin shimmering like polished jade.
Dark, intricate green scales adorned her forehead, forming a V-shape that accentuated her sharp features. Her golden, slit-pupiled eyes glowed intensely, their gaze piercing.
Her dark, lustrous hair was pulled back, revealing more of her striking, scaled skin at her temples. Small, pointed horns subtly emerged from her hairline, curving back gracefully.
She wore a form-fitting garment that mirrored the serpentine texture of her skin, dark and scale-adorned, highlighting her lithe physique.
A live serpent with emerald-green scales coiled around her shoulders and chest, moving with a slow, sinuous grace.
[A/N: I have attached images referencing their appearances at the end of the chapter. Give them a look.]
Everyone's attention on Tournament Island fixated on them, their curiosity piqued as they wondered who these mysterious newcomers were.
Only Felarial and Jay held the knowledge of their true identities. The distinctive Halos hovering above the newcomers' heads revealed their allegiance unmistakably—they were members of the Sentinel Order. Felarial was acutely aware of the Sentinel Order's formidable reputation. In the vast expanse of the Universe, few factions could rival one-tenth of their might, with only the Fiend Race posing a significant challenge. The Sentinel Order stood far ahead of any other faction, their influence and power unparalleled.
To join the Sentinel Order was no small feat; it required one to possess a Grade-7 or higher Innate Talent. The Order's hierarchy was strictly determined by the grade of an individual's Innate Talent.
Those aspiring to join with Grade-7 or Grade-8 Innate Talents needed to be at least Tier-7 and had to endure a rigorous Trial that occurred once every hundred years.
It was a grueling test of strength, skill, and resolve, designed to weed out all but the most exceptional candidates.
On the other hand, individuals with Grade-9 and Grade-10 Innate Talents enjoyed certain privileges. They could bypass the Trial and join the Order before reaching Tier-7.
These extraordinary talents were immediately taken under the Sentinel Order's wing and received unparalleled nurturing and training.
Felarial had accumulated this knowledge through painstaking research. He had once entertained thoughts of participating in the upcoming Sentinel Order Trial and had gathered every piece of information he could find.
The limited entries made the competition the fiercest in the entire Universe, and even in his prime, Felarial had doubted his chances of being selected.
The selection process was merciless. The standards were so high that even Felarial, with all his strength and experience, felt inadequate.
Yet, the position of a Sentinel, regardless of one's place in the hierarchy, was revered by countless beings across the Universe. To be a Sentinel was to be part of a legendary elite, a status that commanded respect and admiration.
As Felarial stood there, the weight of his memories and aspirations bore down on him. He recalled the countless hours spent training, and the bitter taste of doubt that had accompanied him every step of the way. Even though he knew he might only be a part of the lowest rung, the honor and reverence associated with being a Sentinel were undeniable.
The presence of the newcomers, with their radiant Halos, reignited a flicker of the old dreams within him. They were living symbols of what he had once strived for.
The Tournament Island buzzed with whispered speculations and awed murmurs, but Felarial and Jay remained silent, each lost in their thoughts.
As the Tournament Manager, Felarial approached the newcomers to receive them officially. He flew towards them, his senses heightened, and quickly deduced that they were both at least Tier-7, judging by their effortless flight using Energies as their source.
As they conversed quietly with one another, Felarial greeted them with respect. "Greetings, Sentinels!"
The Sentinels merely glanced at Felarial, not bothering to return his greeting. Instead, they bluntly asked, "Was it you that killed the Subsidiary Fiend Monster?"
Felarial paused for a second, carefully considering his response. "Indeed," he answered. "It was as strong as a Tier-4 Mid-Phase lifeform. The monster was so hard to kill that I had to use the protection my Master left on me."
He skillfully wove lies with truth, ensuring not to involve his benefactor, Jay. The truth about his Tier-8 Master placing a protective measure on him was real, but Felarial had already used it during a previous life-threatening situation.
The female Sentinel, her demeanour authoritative and imposing, asked while absentmindedly petting the serpent adorning her neck, "Who is this Master you speak of?"
Felarial responded curtly, without taking offence, "My Master is a Core Elder of Laniakea MegaCluster's Nebula Sect."
She then looked into thin air, as if searching for something unseen. Felarial knew she was accessing the System records that only Sentinels had the privilege to use, intending to verify his identity.
He stood patiently, hoping she wouldn't uncover the truth. Within a mere two seconds, she raised an eyebrow and blurted out, "You were once at the peak of Tier-7?"
Felarial nodded, faking an expression of sadness and shame. The female Sentinel gave him a pitiful look, sympathizing with his apparent misfortune.
She didn't probe any further, satisfied with the background check. They believed he was the one who had destroyed the monster and the portion of the Tournament Island.
The missing section of the Tournament Island no longer seemed suspicious to the newcomers. They knew that even a fraction of an attack from a Tier-8 lifeform could obliterate the entire island, let alone just a portion of it.
Felarial exhaled quietly, relieved that his ruse had worked. His heart pounded in his chest, but outwardly he maintained a composed demeanor. As the Sentinels accepted his explanation, he sighed in relief.
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