Chapter 3: The most fake fight leads to the most real loss
The tip of Li Ang's lance was broken off, so he simply raised his lance and threw it in the direction where there were many people, using it as a javelin to disrupt the battlefield.
Then he drew out his short axe and rode his horse around the guy holding the shield.
The opponent rode his horse half a circle to defend and counterattack, but Li Ang quickly got close to him. The distance between them was too close, and without the speed boost, the three-meter-long lance obviously had little killing power.
But just as he was busy changing the axe, Leon's attack was already in front of him.
“Bang, bang, bang…”
The opponent was quite skilled and blocked several attacks with his shield in a hurry, but he didn't notice that a player from another team rushed over from behind and shot him - this was exactly the same as what Le Ang did just now, except that the speed of the sprint was not as fast and he didn't stab the man away.
Li Ang reached out and snatched the lance from his slowly falling opponent, then moved away from him again.
Now, one of the teams still had two people, and the other two teams only had one person left, so the battle naturally turned into two teams against one team - while Leon and Forcher watched the show on the other side of the field.
The entire audience booed at this point - obviously booing Li Ang.
But the fat boss and another blond old man in the box upstairs began to applaud softly.
The fat boss stood at the side, looking very respectful. It was obvious that the blond old man was Marshall's father, the Duke of Alma.
"This boy fights very smartly... black hair and black eyes... where is he from?" Duke Alma seemed to have some admiration in his eyes.
The fat boss smiled and replied, "An adventurer from Barkley, said to be the descendant of a knight. Although his black hair and black eyes look a bit strange, there are all kinds of people in Barkley..."
Alma narrowed his eyes: "I do know a knight with black hair and black eyes...Isn't that right?"
He seemed to be remembering something from the past, frowned, and tapped his fingers on the armrest in deep thought.
On the hand guard, the golden mad lion emblem trembled with the movement of the fingers, as if it was ready to devour someone.
The battle on the field was nearing its end, and at this moment two more unlucky guys fell down on the field.
As for the remaining two opponents, one of them was injured and seemed unable to ride a horse.
Only then did Leon call out to Forcher and charge forward again.
And Forcher rode his horse towards the unfortunate man who was injured, holding his shield.
The opponent also rushed towards Li Ang with shield and spear in hand. He was obviously a brave man and knew that as long as he could get rid of Li Ang, he would most likely win the battle.
After all, Forcher, a rookie who can be seen through at a glance , is really not worth mentioning in the eyes of the masters...
The two seemed to be about to present the scene that the audience loved to see the most, with the two knights pointing their spears at each other as if in a duel.
The audience was obviously excited by this scene. They all stood up and started shouting. Some people threw flowers into the field. The scene was very passionate.
But Li Ang obviously didn't like such a famous scene - the slightest mistake would lead to death, and there was a high probability that both sides would suffer losses.
Besides, this is a competitive match, not a knightly duel representing dignity and honor.
So before he made contact, he slightly changed his angle and poked the opponent's horse's head with a shot in advance...
A horse's head is positioned much further forward than a human's - and a horse cannot block with a shield.
The expression on the opponent's face changed from determination to astonishment...
The horse only let out a short, painful neigh before falling down, its front hooves digging a deep hole in the mud.
The powerful inertia brought by the full-speed sprint directly threw the opponent on horseback far away, and he lay ten meters away groaning in pain.
Dust flew and the whole place was silent.
Afterwards, the audience burst into deafening boos, obviously very dissatisfied with this dishonorable and vulgar style of play.
But Leon didn't even turn his head. He threw down the broken lance and took out the short axe again. He knocked down the injured unfortunate guy with one axe before Forcher.
Foucher yelled at Leon in dissatisfaction: "What are you doing? Idiot! He is mine!"
Li Ang glanced at him and said with sarcasm: "He is the champion of the last real sword fighting competition. He is best at exchanging injuries for injuries. Most people who have fought with him will have some disabilities..."
Forcher looked behind the man and saw that the man who was defeated by that guy had one leg twisted in the opposite direction...
The illegitimate young master swallowed his saliva and stopped talking.
At this time, the horn sounded again, and it was obvious that the opponent who was thrown away by the horse had voluntarily admitted defeat and withdrew from the competition.
That's a wise and smart man.
They advanced successfully.
The audience booed even louder.
But Duke Alma in the box applauded and laughed, and said as if talking to himself: "This is definitely not his child... He is not so shameless..."
The most difficult multi-person melee ended smoothly, and the fat boss was beaming with joy.
Because the next semi-final is between Li Ang and Forcher.
Considering the martial arts and acting skills that Leon has demonstrated over the past six months, it looks like everyone is happy and the dinar seems to have been obtained.
Both Leon and Forcher seemed very relaxed. After all, they both felt that they could get the results they wanted.
During the half-time break, Li Ang found the fat boss again.
"Is there another bet next time?"
The fat boss was stunned for a moment: "Of course, there are in every game... The next game will accept up to 200 dinars, but the contestants cannot bet on themselves to lose."
"Then...how much can I earn by buying Focher's promotion now?" Leon rubbed his chin, his eyes full of sparkling gold coins.
"There are many people who bet on you to win. Therefore, betting on Master Forcher can earn at least 500 dinars..."
Li Ang frowned. "That's all? It's easy to tell what that idiot is like. I thought it would be at least 50% to 10%."
The fat boss shrugged his shoulders and said, "But everyone in the arena bet on you to lose, which offset a lot of the odds... In the past six months, everyone knows that you, Lord Li Ang, have never won the championship. After each semi-final, you played the most fake and lost the most realistically..."
Li Ang grinned: "Then you bet 200 for me. I don't want the winnings. How about giving me your Alice? Otherwise, Forcher may not win..."
The fat boss looked at Li Ang who was blatantly blackmailing him with an expression of disbelief in his eyes, which then turned into deep admiration in a long sigh.
Such a shameless person is even worse than I was in my past.
This young man will surely become a continent-wide arena tycoon...
"Well... I can't ride her now anyway. Oh, my beloved Alice... you have to be nice to her..."
The fat boss, weighing over 300 pounds, looked down at his belly. From his angle of vision, he certainly couldn't see his feet.
Alice is a beautiful horse with a golden mane, and Leon has been eyeing her for a long time.
