I Am the God of Games

In the end, the pearl was naturally bought by the old man.

According to him, that pearl is just a rare jewel for ordinary people, but it is a rare treasure for astrologers. It can be used to construct a glazed spirit ball to help observe the stars in the sky.

"I lost."

After the old man left, Gerald said with some disappointment.

However, his loss was only the loss of his own eyesight being wrong, and there was nothing else.

Because he didn't think he would lose to a subordinate of a traveling merchant.

In the entire city of Lancaster, he dare not say that he is the strongest, and he can't even be ranked among the top three among the city lieutenant knights, but compared with ordinary people, his strength trained since childhood is beyond doubt.

On the day Gerald left his apprenticeship three years ago, his teacher said that he was no weaker than an ordinary bishop.

As a fighter who is good at close combat and speed, if he is not far away from the enemy, he can even instantly kill the bishop of the Seven Heavenly Father Church without injury!

A mere subordinate of a traveling merchant, how could he possibly be stronger than a bishop?

When he was thinking this way, he didn't know that Mane had already arranged him clearly in his heart.

"Level 35, which is higher than the Evil Bone Archbishop, but the template is just an ordinary template, not even an elite monster..." Magnie glanced at the writing on the opponent's head, feeling disdainful.

Although there were a lot of deaths, the existence of money ability still made him bite the tail of the first-line players tightly, and crossed the threshold of level 40.

Theoretically speaking, even if he did it himself, he could beat this ignorant young man, but even today, even if he doesn't believe in evil, Manie is still a little scared of his unlucky physique that can turn magic into decay.

If something happened to him and he was smashed by this guy, wouldn't it become a joke among the players?

With this in mind, when Magne signed the contract, he said that he would let the other party fight with his 'subordinates' instead of going on the field himself.

"Where is your subordinate? Let him come here. You don't need to go to other places. Don't worry, the winner will be decided soon in the courtyard at the door..."

Gerald was still clamoring, and Magne also confirmed through the player forum that the reinforcements he had requested had arrived.

"He'll be here soon, please wait a moment."

Sure enough, not long after Manie finished speaking, there was a strange commotion outside the door.

Then, a strange figure appeared at the door.

It was a man whose body and limbs looked no different from ordinary people, holding a single-edged sword that looked extraordinarily slender in his hand-it was normal until here.

But there seems to be something wrong with the other party's head. There is a pink flounder headgear on it. At first glance, it seems that the whole head has been swallowed by the flounder. There is an indescribable weirdness...

In the field of vision that only the player can see, the word 'Mufasa' floats above the flounder's tail.

"...I don't ask you how you are usually, but in this serious situation, can you please dress normally?" Manie whispered to Flounder: "At least take off this ridiculous headgear for me." !"

"But I refuse! This is the 'Prestige Flounder Headgear' with a mocking effect that I drew from the Golden World prize pool in the previous event. It is the only one for all players! No matter how many people want it, they can't get it!" Mufasa said. He refused without hesitation, and his tone was full of complacency: "Besides, it's just a 35-level miscellaneous soldier. It's not a big task, and it won't take much effort."

Magne thought about it, and felt that what the other party said made sense.

Anyway, sooner or later, the sand sculpture attributes of the players will be exposed to Lancaster's big shot, so let him deal with such trivial matters now...

Because both sides felt that it was a one-sided crushing battle, they didn't plan to go to the practice ground seriously, but planned to settle it in the courtyard.

On the contrary, Gerald felt that Mufasa's headgear was too sculpted, and it was disrespectful to himself and the master he served, and he planned to give him some color during the battle.

As a city lieutenant knight who received an elite education since he was a child, Jerrodell is very aware of the importance of calmness in battle.

Although he has not yet reached the level of "clear mirror still water, calm waves", he will not be easily provoked by the enemy and become furious.

But for some reason, when facing Mufasa wearing a flounder headgear, as soon as he sees the large and small dead fish eyes on the opponent's headgear, an evil fire will be inexplicably ignited in his heart, and he will continue to stir and burn Touching his heart, he felt an urge to blow up the opponent.

Driven by this impulse, after symbolically probing and observing the opponent for a moment, he took the lead in attacking.

However pointless.

No matter how he attacks, the opponent can always easily parry his attack.

The other party even had enough time to say something like "the word "dangerous" didn't even appear, so it's really good." Although Gerald couldn't understand what it meant, it was obviously some kind of mocking words.

This made Gerald can't help speeding up the rhythm of his attack. The weapons of the two kept splashing out sparks as they intersected, and they also made a sound like iron hammering.

But until now, with so many sword strikes, he couldn't even touch the corner of the opponent's clothes.

Gerald had never experienced such a battle, and everything he did seemed to be useless, just a waste of effort.

"Are you only able to block!" Gerald scolded angrily, "Coward!"

Then he was easily flicked away by the opponent's long sword, kicked away, hit the wall after rolling twice on the ground, and gasped for air with his mouth and eyes closed.

"Have you surrendered?" asked Flounder.

"I recognize your horse!"

Gerald, who had calmed down a little bit because of the pain, was dazzled by the evil fire again, picked up the long sword that fell beside him, and went forward to fight again.

But this time it failed even faster.

His own sword was easily pulled away, and the opponent's blade was attached to his neck like a poisonous snake in the next moment.

"In all fairness, your sword skills are not bad." Flounder's tone was the same as before, and he didn't even feel the slightest breath, as if he was just doing some insignificant warm-up exercises: "However, your sword is just training every day Is it tempered by sparring with senior teachers? This kind of swordsmanship that has not been tempered by the danger of dying, without the slightest blood and pain, without awareness and persistence, cannot hurt me. "

"Just a commoner...then how many times have you experienced death!" Gerald asked unconvinced.

"How many times have you died? You've forgotten that kind of thing." Flounder put his sword back into the scabbard, and said calmly, "Who would remember how many slices of bread he has eaten?"