Chapter 1649 Turbulent Sea of the Frenzied Trolls <TOC> Chapter 1651 They Have Arrived
Translator: SumTLMan
The young man who appeared to be around 14 or 15 years old is none other than “Phantom Moose,” Trom!
As Trom stepped out, the door behind him gradually vanished, reappearing behind another rock formation.
Trom stood on a solitary rock, his face etched with a touch of solemnity. He had not expected to face such a challenging environment in this competition.
He scanned his surroundings. The gloomy ocean was relatively calm; there was no sign of sea trolls yet. But the scent of blood in the air made him slightly uneasy. Unable to resist, Trom closed his eyes and extended his mental tendrils, attempting to preemptively sense the conditions on the water’s surface.
At that moment, a commentator’s voice resounded with a crisp tone, “It seems that our Phantom Moose contender is quite cautious. After all, he’s up against sea trolls. However, sensing for sea trolls at this point, is it adding pressure or relieving it?”
Trom could hear the commentator’s voice but paid it no heed, continuing to probe the waters instead.
“Perhaps a friendly tip is in order,” the commentator’s voice suggested mockingly. “The sea trolls are currently hibernating in a specialized formation and will only awaken after the competition begins. So, Phantom Moose, you’re unlikely to find them now. Instead of focusing on the ocean, why not pay some attention to your adorable fans?”
The somewhat teasing tone of the commentator’s voice caused Trom’s expression to stiffen momentarily. If this were a regular arena, he might indeed pay attention to the mood of his fans. But right now, he couldn’t see anything beyond the dome, so how could he pay attention? He’s not some narcissistic individual like the Spring Waltz, who could flaunt charisma even when facing thin air.
Unperturbed, Trom remained in his position, eliciting a sense of disappointment from the commentator’s voice.
In the outside world, on the judges’ panel, Angel muttered under her breath, “Why do I feel like the commentator’s voice this time is tinged with malice?”
“Perhaps they’ve changed the commentator?” Farina, standing beside Angel, heard his murmur and casually responded, “It’s not a bad change; the audience seems to be reacting well, at least.”
After teasing Trom, the commentator once again adopted a serious tone: “Now, introducing our second contender: the Philosopher.”
The word ‘Philosopher’ flashed across the screen. Simultaneously, within the Boundless Arena beneath the dome, a door swung open on another rock outcropping about ten meters away from where Trom was standing.
Stepping out from behind the door was Onassis, who appeared to be around the same age as Trom.
Onassis was dressed in his usual, somewhat dated gray-black wizard robe. His expression was somewhat stiff, and he naturally exuded an air of academic stuffiness — entirely incongruent with his youthful face.
Upon emerging, Onassis showed no emotional reaction to the surrounding ocean. He stood properly on the rock, his gaze turning to Trom not far off, and gently nodded.
“The currents will carry my regards to you,” Onassis murmured softly.
The sea breeze carried Onassis’s words to Trom’s ears. However, Trom seemed perplexed, apparently not understanding the message.
Fortunately, at this moment, the commentator chimed in——
“The Philosopher, as always, speaks with a ceremonial eloquence, albeit an archaic one,” said the commentator. “Is this catchphrase of Berlov from the morning or the evening? Is it sarcastic toward Trom or is it a genuine expression? Probably, only the Philosopher himself knows.”
The commentator’s commentary continued to baffle many in the audience. The question of who this ‘Berlov’ might be also remained a mystery.
Farina considered herself a voracious reader, yet she found herself shrouded in confusion.
Observing this, Angel leaned in and softly explained, “Berlov is the villainous master thief in the novel —Twilight Pearl Crown—.”
The novel tells the story of a merchant guild that obtains a long-lost treasure known as the Twilight Pearl Crown. Despite their best efforts to keep it hidden, the news reaches Berlov, a notorious master thief.
As the saying goes, “possession itself is the original sin.”
During a cruise dinner hosted by the merchant guild, Berlov infiltrated the event and made his move. When disguised as the master of ceremonies, his opening line was, “The currents will carry my regards to you all; good morning.”
By the novel’s end, not only does Berlov acquire the Twilight Pearl Crown, but he also manages to sink the entire ship, leaving him as the lone survivor sailing away on a lifeboat.
As he watched the distant merchant guild gradually sink into the ocean, the sound of terrified and despairing laughter emanated from the ship. The master thief spoke the novel’s final words: “The currents will carry my regards to you all; good evening.”
“I see,” Farina said, her mind suddenly enlightened upon hearing Angel’s account.
So, the commentator’s commentary makes sense now. Whether Berlov’s catchphrase corresponds to “morning” or “evening” aligns with his “entrance in the morning” or “final bow in the evening” in the book.
“Indeed, as the commentator pointed out, Onassis’s way of speaking is too obscure,” Farina shook her head. Not only is it enigmatic, but it also carries an air of displeasure. It gives the illusion that an academic-type wizard is deliberately showing off before you, all the while maintaining a solemn demeanor.
“That’s his style, unfortunately not everyone can appreciate it,” Angel said, glancing towards the dome above. Clearly, Trom is among those who can’t.
Trom intentionally pulled his antler hat low, tucking the two tufts of hair that framed his face behind his ears, assuming an appearance of deliberate inattentiveness.
Although Trom seems to be quite put off by Onassis’s pedantic manner, he doesn’t respond. Perhaps he’s also familiar with Onassis; almost everyone who has engaged with him ends up driven to the brink of madness.
Trom may not understand the power of words and philosophy, but he instinctively chooses to avoid it.
Observing Trom’s behavior, Onassis showed no signs of discomfort on his face. He simply sighed lightly, “Yet another soul fallen onto the path of ignorance.”
After sighing, Onassis lifted his head to look at the sky.
It seemed as if, through this overcast sky, he could see the situation outside the dome.
“The Philosopher seems to be paying attention to what’s happening outside. Is he watching his admirers? But this isn’t his usual modus operandi,” the commentator mused. “I’m really curious, who does The Philosopher want to see? Could it be the rumored Philosopher Scholar who is both his rival and kindred spirit?”
In the original context, the commentator’s voice is audible to Onassis, but he evidently has no intention of responding. Instead, he slowly diverts his gaze and refocuses his attention on Trom.
For at this moment, only the last minute remains before the start of the competition.
A countdown appears on the screen.
Both Onassis and Trom enter the final stage of preparation.
Accompanied by the commentator’s light chuckle: “Be vigilant for the sudden appearance of sea trolls; best of luck to both of you.”
The competition officially begins!
Although the commentator has specifically cautioned that sea trolls may appear at any time, the sea surface remains as tranquil as ever. However, the clouds overhead seem to have descended lower, and the air seems to have grown more suffocating.
Chapter 1649 Turbulent Sea of the Frenzied Trolls <TOC> Chapter 1651 They Have Arrived