Chapter 815: The End of the Tournament

Chapter 815: Chapter 815: The End of the Tournament

Ethan observed the domain’s desolate horizon, where smoke plumes from past battles were slowly beginning to thin out. The calm within the dimensional plane felt heavy.

"How long do we have to wait?" asked Ethan.

The frost princess took a step forward, adjusting her robe while gazing at him with respect and bashfulness.

"Only two days out of seven have passed, great hero," answered the frost princess.

"Five more days?" Ethan muttered, letting out an annoyed click of his tongue. "Tch... what a nuisance. If I murder everyone present, do you think they’ll call the tournament over?"

In an instant, a bloody aura erupted from Ethan’s body, flooding the hill with a necrotic pressure so overwhelming the air turned heavy as lead. All the surrounding cultivators, including the frost princess, began trembling in terror, feeling their hearts shrink at the possibility of being wiped out in the blink of an eye.

The only one who remained unflustered in the face of the threat was the blind monk, who merely adjusted the rosary in his hands with a serene expression.

"Do not frighten the children," said the blind monk.

"Haha, it was a joke... just a joke," said Ethan, snapping his aura back inside and letting out a smile that lit up his face.

Upon seeing that careless, dazzling smile, every woman present let out a sigh of relief, feeling their hearts skip a beat. Beside him, Isabella pouted with jealousy, clenching her fists upon realizing Ethan was merely teasing her and making her mad on purpose, without her being able to vent in public.

Before anyone could utter another word, a thunderous crack echoed high above. In the middle of the red firmament, a spatial fissure began tearing open, revealing the golden light of the imperial colosseum outside.

"It seems they have observed enough," commented the blind monk, raising his head toward the rift. "It is time to leave."

Without hesitation, the survivors of the allied kingdoms began taking flight, rushing toward the exit to leave that hell behind.

Isabella, seizing the moment, let herself fall against Ethan’s chest, letting out a soft groan of fatigue.

"I’m exhausted...", whispered Isabella, looking up at him with lazy eyes.

Ethan smirked with mutual understanding. Knowing she was merely acting pampered to get his attention, he scooped her up and carried her like a princess. Isabella rested her head against his neck with satisfaction as Ethan deployed his energy and soared toward the spatial fissure into the world outside.

As they crossed the spatial rift, a tide of roaring applause welcomed them into the Golden Sun Grand Colosseum. Hundreds of thousands of spectators shouted from the stands, celebrating the return of the survivors and the victory of the Soaring Dragon faction.

Ethan descended smoothly onto the floating platform, keeping Isabella held in his arms while raising one hand to wave at the crowd.

Isabella, feeling the hundreds of thousands of eyes fixed upon them, began kicking her legs.

"Put me down... put me down!" whispered Isabella, her cheeks burning red.

"Weren’t you injured and exhausted?" asked Ethan with a mocking smirk. "Come on, no need to push yourself. Everyone will understand if you feel indisposed."

"Shut up! Put me down right now or I won’t talk to you!" exclaimed Isabella, digging her nails into his shoulder.

"When I’m fucking you I don’t need you to talk, haha," whispered Ethan near her ear, letting out a chuckle. "Besides... sex and silence? Where do I sign?"

"You’re an idiot!" replied Isabella, biting her lip.

"The idiot who loves you the most," whispered Ethan before giving her earlobe a quick bite, causing a shiver to run through the princess’s body as a sudden rush of arousal washed over her.

Isabella hid her face against his chest, stifling a moan as her breathing turned heavy.

"I hope all of this ends quickly...", whispered Isabella, her voice trembling with desire. "I can’t wait to celebrate."

Ethan gazed down at her flushed face, letting out a soft chuckle as he adjusted his grip around her.

"It seems the quiet princess has quite a side to her...", said Ethan with a playful gleam in his eyes. "It’s surprising."

Isabella pursed her lips with a mix of mischief and annoyance, tightening her grip around Ethan’s shoulders.

"No one ever said I was demure...", whispered Isabella, staring straight at him. "Haven’t you noticed?"

"Yeah, I love that about you," replied Ethan with a faint smile.

"I doubt it," insisted Isabella, suspicious. "You keep saying more and more about being demure... You probably like those prude bitches like that skinny, flat-assed whore of a frost princess."

Ethan merely chuckled on the inside, maintaining his composure before the cheering crowd. Over the years and through his experience with women, he had learned a fundamental lesson: never defend one woman in front of another; that mistake could easily cost you an entire month without fucking.

"What, aren’t you answering?" insisted Isabella upon seeing his silence, digging her gaze into him. "Tell me... do you like that bitch that much, huh?!"

Ethan continued raising his hand, waving to the stands and smiling broadly while pretending not to have heard a single word, effectively avoiding any confrontation. Isabella, noticing the attention of all the most important figures in the empire fixed upon them, chose not to push things further in public and settled for hiding her flushed face against his chest.

Following the exchange between the couple, the imperial crier’s voice boomed across the colosseum, amplified by runic formations that shook the stone structures.

"Making their entrance are the heroes who braved the imperial tournament and emerged victorious!" shouted the crier. "The chaff has been separated from the wheat, revealing only the brightest promises and future pillars of the empire!"

Following the announcement, the crier made a ceremonial gesture with his golden staff, indicating the path toward the main platform.

"Please take your seats in the chairs designated with your respective names so the awarding ceremony may begin," concluded the crier, bowing.

Ethan walked with elegance without letting go of Isabella until he reached his assigned seat, under the watchful and stunned gazes of the continent’s most powerful figures.