Civilization Chronicles: Rise of the Divine Creator

”Um... excuse me, Your Highness... but...” One of the young lords from a neighbouring province hesitantly asked, ”Do you... perhaps... own your own bakery?”

”Tina doesn’t just own Princess Bakery, she founded it! She also works there together with Brother Jake, Sister Jenny, and Sister Jessie whenever she gets the chance,” Eris happily announced, drawing another round of gasps from the surrounding crowd.

Some of the youths who were more recently arrived and were unaware of this little fact until now were curious about why Princess Christina had started a bakery.

Some were more interested in what such a bakery was selling.

Still others were aghast that a princess was engaged in such ’low-brow’ work.

Fortunately, before another round of questions, comments, and arguments could break out, Allina signaled the start of the final match, drawing everyone’s attention back to the stage.

.....

Timothy Balfour and Gabriel Roth were two of the strongest, most outstanding members of the Rockwell Kingdom’s younger generation, but in a somewhat ironic twist, there wasn’t actually anything particularly special about them.

Neither of them had astonishing Innate Talent, unparalleled combat sense, or shockingly robust physiques. In fact, even those who knew them well would be hard pressed to name a way in which either Timothy or Gabriel stood out from the rest of their peers.

Of course, it wasn’t like they were ’ordinary’.

Timothy was a Balfour, and Gabriel was a Roth, so their starting positions were naturally far above those of most of the noble youths of the kingdom, much less its masses of commoners, but that hardly made them unique.

No, what set these two apart from the rest was solely their personal accomplishments.

In other words, Timothy and Gabriel had earned their current strength and status the old-fashioned way, through countless hours of cultivation and years of dedicated training.

They were the product of sheer hard work, which actually made others admire them even more than if they had simply been naturally blessed by the Heavens.

It wasn’t like true geniuses didn’t also put in incredible amounts of time honing their strength; for instance, Christina’s training regimen was so intense it bordered on self-harm. However, Timothy and Gabriel were always held up as examples who proved that if one put in enough effort, they could still stand amongst the strongest even if they weren’t the most talented.

For this tournament, however, there could be only one winner, so the moment Allina gave the go-ahead, both Timothy and Gabriel shot forward, spear meeting sword in the centre of the ring as the two young men focused all their attention on their opponent, blocking out the roar of the crowd around them.

The stalemate only lasted for a second before the two youths separated again.

Stepping in, Gabriel swung his sword in an upward slash, only for it to be parried away by Timothy.

After neutralizing his opponent’s attack, Timothy sent out a straight thrust towards Gabriel’s chest, a blow the latter intercepted and deflected away.

An overhead sword chop was deftly dodged.

A low spear sweep was agilely leapt over.

Timothy and Gabriel continued exchanging blows like this, each of them attacking, defending, countering, then attacking again in a brutal and deadly rhythm.

It was a textbook display of skill, technique, and sharpness, one that the younger kids watched in awe while the old masters nodded in approval.

Timothy was more forceful and aggressive while Gabriel had greater finesse and precision.

Again, neither of them was a prodigy with their chosen weapon, but the skills they had repeatedly drilled and practiced were all executed to a near flawless degree.

The two young men seemed basically equal in terms of skill, making it impossible to predict who would emerge victorious.

Hundreds of clashes occurred as they moved around the ring, both of them angling for better striking positions while limiting exposure to their opponent’s weapon, searching for openings to take advantage of while showing none to the enemy.

Only after 15 minutes of intense close-quarters combat did they truly separate again, both Timothy and Gabriel breathing hard and dripping with sweat.

As they faced off against one another again, the rest of the younger generation held their breath in anticipation, eager for the match to resume.

On the older generation’s side, however, most of the masters present let out a sigh and shook their heads.

”It’s a pity.”

”Indeed.”

”Well, there could still be a surprise.”

”There could be, but that would require one of them to make a big mistake, which seems unlikely.”

”Ultimately, it all comes down to strength.”

”Doesn’t it always?

”Not always. There’s been a few examples today where that wasn’t the case.”

”True, but 9 out of 10 times, it’s the stronger fighter who comes out on top.”

”Fair enough.”

Although they spoke in hushed tones, most were powerful Spirit Realm Cultivators, so they could all hear one another clearly.

From the perspective of these veteran’s warriors, it had been obvious who would emerge victorious for some time now, and sure enough, just 3 minutes later, Timothy’s spear slipped through a small opening in Gabriel’s defences and struck his chest hard.

Gabriel winced and was forced back 3 steps before he managed to stabilize his footing and raise his sword.

Before he could return to the melee however, Allina shouted, ”Stop! Winner, Timothy Balfour!”

Gabriel looked unwilling, but he didn’t raise any objections, knowing that the last thrust had landed cleanly.

If their weapons hadn’t been blunted, he would have been impaled by that blow rather than knocked back by it.

It took him a couple seconds, but the Young Lord of the Roth Family managed to compose himself and let out a sigh, saluting his opponent respectfully before turning to leave the stage.

Timothy naturally returned the gesture. He may not have liked Gabriel, but he still respected him as a fellow warrior.

He also knew that the deciding factor in this match was simply that his cultivation was higher, granting him slightly more endurance and slightly more strength.

He wasn’t a superior warrior, he just managed to outlast his opponent.

Still, a victory was a victory. On a real battlefield, no one could complain if their enemy was older or had higher cultivation; at the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was who was alive, and who was dead.