'F*ck! Why are there so many people here to compete in the tournament?'
Darryl muttered to himself as he went to have a look at the rules of the tournament.
The New World Royals had divided the tournament into a literary and martial arts competition.
The martial arts competition was pretty self-explanatory. It was a competition to test a cultivator's powers. On the other hand, the literary competition was to test the contestants' talents—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, astronomy and geography, and many others.
The New World Emperor decided that when the champion for the literary and martial arts competition had been selected, he would let his daughter pick who she wanted as her Prince Consort.
No matter who her daughter picked, it would still be great news for the New World. After all, many people had participated in the competition. No matter who it was, the winner would be an immensely talented person!
'It's just a martial arts marriage tournament; what's with all these extra rules?' Darryl pondered as he headed to the registration area.
"Hey, did you see Darryl Darby?"
"The Sect Master of the Elysium Gate! Did you all see him?"
There was a commotion behind him. Darryl turned around; he was stunned into speechlessness.
About a hundred meters away, First Scope and his brothers asked people in the crowd if they had seen Darryl.
He also saw Eric in the other direction. That man had a dark expression on his face as he searched for Darryl.
'F*ck! Why are they here again? Didn't I give Stella the antidote? Why would they not let it go?'
Darryl frowned. He was stunned and furious at the same time.
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