Titan Beneath the Heavens Chapter 175

To marry a Persian girl, the groom had to prepare three things. First, a generous dowry; second, a herd of livestock and third, a good weapon to confront their love rivals. Therefore, it was said that… being a Persian groom was not easy, especially when his bride was beautiful beyond comparison!

Princess Arayna Mogadishu lived in a castle by the sea. Her father had given the palace in the city to the conqueror of Fort Istantine and knowing this made her feel unusually dejected. The conqueror was not the northern Ghazali cavalry, nor the "Yellow Faces" of the east, and also not the pirates on the Disin Sea. Why must it be the Andrews, their natural enemy, that had taken over her homeland? No matter how she thought about it, she just could not get over that fact.

On the territory of the Mogadishus, there was no one who did not know the name Arayna. The people here were used to calling her "Pearl of the Black Sea". However, not many had met the princess. Arayna Mogadishu was a fine young lady who abided to customs. Since many years ago, she had never done anything that overstepped her boundaries.

The Ottoman soldiers had built a great wall that defended the coastal border region on both sides of the Bosphorus Channel. A 32-kilometer long coastline was covered with fortifications and looming towers. To the west of the channel sat Fort Istantine. This had once been the Kingdom of the Byzantines, the descendants of the Romans. At the cliffs and valleys to the east of the channel, the conquerors that had come after had built themselves a city. The Mogadishus called it Justania, which meant "Prophet Valley". Usually, the people would refer to Istantine as the old city and Justania as the new city. A narrow channel, just like the natural boundary between the future and history, separated both the new and old cities.

It is very difficult for us to believe that to one end of this natural boundary, the law of the Persian Ottoman Dynasty was actually a scripture. The military empire under a united religious and political rule only established the five hundred over years of governance under a unified belief. However, there seemed to be shortcomings to such a belief. Perhaps this had a huge thing to do with the establishment of the true God doctrine. Being one of the three major religious bodies, the religion of the True God had been formed later. There were not many "amazing things" to be said about the founder. The scripture of the True God doctrine was passed on orally by its believers and recorded into a book for the followers of the prophets and only gradually became prevalent towards the end of the 3rd century. In the next two hundred years, there were even leaders of various sects that added on to it.

Just like this, the True God scripture was attributed to the collection of anecdotal views of Prophet Elladan's actions and way of life as the foundation. Thus, the True God sect that was of a different worldly belief had all the while held completely different interpretations of this anecdotal view collection.

In the history of the Persian Ottoman Dynasty, countless debates and armed struggles between the religious sects had taken place. These senseless disputes that the people got wholeheartedly engrossed in consumed a great amount of the military Empire's strength. It also buried the root of the nation's hatred and oppression among the lowest rung of the ruling foundation.

Incomplete statistics showed that… the Persian Ottoman Empire was constituted by over four hundred nationalities. The ruler of the Empire was unclear about these because he completely did not care. All the nationalities were subservient to the Imperial Household and the royal bodies. Their existences were like that of slaves.

In the five hundred years long history of the single religious ruling, the majority would oppress the minority; the dominant would oppress the submissive. There was no harmony between the nationalities within the Empire. As a whole, the Ottomans of the rulers seemed to adopt an uncaring attitude towards the chaos and disputes of the nationalities. They did not hope for any of the sects to emerge as champions at all. They also did not wish to see a certain tribe prosper and gain power.

As a ruler, the royal body of the Imperial Ottoman Household created disasters by sowing dissension and used intermarriages between close relatives to maintain their bloodline. It seemed that most Persian Princesses were used to undergoing this kind of complex marriages. This type of marriage could stabilize the territory and facilitate the reconciliation between the sects. However, following the passage of time, the intermarriage between the Imperial Household and the royal body had lost this significance. The main reason was that the number of princesses and princes were almost at an uncountable quantity. If they were not supported by the territory and religious leaders, these princesses and princes would simply be worthless.

"So... if you are to marry a Persian Princess, choose the most beautiful, richest and most noble!"

O'Neil Andrew Morisette merely shrugged because he was completely ignorant of the Persian Empire's history and religious culture… in short, practically everything about this country. He only knew that the Andrews and Persians were natural enemies that had been going at each other for a few hundred over years. Now, the Andrews had risen from natural enemies to conquerors!

Conquerors! This was such a fascinating address! Ever since O'Neil Andrew Morisette had discovered the precise meaning of this term, he had fallen irrevocably in love with it. As a conqueror, he could eye the tall mosque with a gaze that indicated he could not be bothered with. He could also lift the veils of female servants and dancers with playful movements. To the Persian ladies who praised the True God, this was a great humiliation. However, most Persian ladies would not resist because this would signify being subdued, utterly subdued.

Figg barred his younger brother who was about to set out from the little public square behind the palace. He dragged the perplexed Oscar down from the horse and used a thought-provoking gaze to assess him.

Oscar pointed at the chaotic market, "100 cows, 100 sheep, a whole carriage of gold, a few carriages of various luxurious goods. Is there anything else you'd like to ask for?"

Figg scratched his head, "where's your knife?"

Oscar tapped the leather pocket behind him. "What do you mean?"

Figg stammered as if he was very reluctant to bring up the matter.

"Just now I said… as a Persian groom, you have to be prepared to confront your love rivals. What do you… think of this?"

Oscar shrugged and made a gesture of praying to the God of Light, "God be with me."

Figg rolled his eyes, "Uhhh… so let it be. God be with you and may you and your coachman be spared from trouble."

Oscar glanced at Wozakad Elladan on the horse, "Will we come across any trouble?"

The former Persian General nodded firmly, "Yes, definitely!" he replied with a highly shoddy phrase of affirmation.

"What kind of trouble?" Oscar used a dangerous gaze and sized up Figg. His second brother must be hiding something.

"The wedding ceremony of the Imperial Household usually has a very exciting and important program," Wozakad Elladan explained word by word. "Bride kidnapping! I'm not sure if it's this term… but this is the program. The family of the bride's side will assemble warriors that admire the bride and put on a show of bride kidnapping. Then the groom is to defeat these admirers to prove his gallantry. Only after then can he bring the bride away. To be more precise… this is the wedding customs of the Ottomans."

"Ola… I'm looking forward to it!" Oscar chuckled and again patted the machete on his back. "I have a fine blade and a Black Belt Warrior to help me escort the bride… there's nothing to complain about!"

"You don't understand…" Wozakad Elladan also stammered, "this is your business… I can't help you with it!"

Oscar's face instantly paled, "what did you say?"

"Meaning to say, you must face the princess' admirers alone," Figg finally spilled the beans.

"Ola…" Oscar groaned. "Face the princess' admirers alone? A group… or a division?"

"Not that many! There can only be ten performers in the show of bride kidnapping!" Wozakad extended his hands and gestured. "You need only face ten!"

"That isn't too bad…" Paul had slunk up to them.

Wozakad shook his head, "A few with hidden agendas usually use bride kidnapping to wreck the wedding. A situation where the groom gets killed has happened before."

Paul was stunned momentarily. At last, he could only pat the young prince on the shoulder, "you were right… God be with you… may it be so!"

Oscar glared at his second brother, "I will get back at you!"

Fogg could only smirk, "Okay, okay! Hurry off now! The beautiful Arayna is waiting for you in an exotically themed bedroom!"

Arayna's time had arrived. That was a tall and lean warrior. His appearance did not have much difference from the ordinary Ottoman warriors with their tight puttee, close-fitting armor at the waist and the dark blue velvet head wrap. The warrior obscured most of his face with a silver mask. His legs were bare and he walked into the princess' bedroom with a near perfect stride.

The warrior had a machete. This was not unusual, but this man could actually come and go from the chamber of the Imperial Household's concubines? The Persian Princess regarded the chamber of the Imperial concubines as an area forbidden to men. However, it was natural that such prohibition had no effect on the Black Belt Warrior who was half man and half god.

The handle of the warrior's sword had a greenish-black strip of cloth hanging down from it. It was a kind of black that resembled the bottomless abyss. With one's bare eyes, there was absolutely no way to determine its age and significance. However, to the Persian Ottomans, this black ribbon symbolized the mightiest that ripped through time and space and connected with the True God.

Four maids were waving massive leaf fans a moment ago, but as soon as they saw the warrior, they immediately forgot their task. The warrior gave a slight wave of his hand towards the maids crouching on the ground. The lowly servants immediately withdrew from the princess' bedroom.

Arayna was lying on the spacious bed. She was practically naked. The pure white blanket only covered her lower body.

Light from the afternoon sun crossing the sky spilled into the room from the balcony that was filled with plants. Arayna was basking in the sunlight to her heart's content. The rays of light on her body coruscated with multi-colored rays of brilliance. The olive oil, extracted through meticulous means, caused the curves on her body to take on a near perfect form and luster.

The Black Belt Warrior gazed at the princess, but there was not the slightest lust in his eyes. As a protector of the True God, the flames of his soul had already died out, and only glory and resolution cast from his faith remained.

"Is everything ready?" Arayna rolled over. The Black Belt Warrior did not turn away from the breathtaking scene before him and his eyes remained limpid.

"Everything is ready!"

The princess nodded and once again buried herself in the brocade fur. The lion skin bedding made her think about her groom!

Narcissus Fierce Tiger? The faith of their natural enemy was really too strange. Those were two completely different things!

The Black Belt Warrior averted his eyes and his gaze came to a halt upon a vase of narcissus. He recalled that the princess had brought it back from Andrew's territory. Initially, the girl had carefully watered it and raised it with all her heart until the narcissuses had bloomed.

"You're… sure you want to do this?"

Arayna gave a groan. The sunlight was progressively raising the temperature but this intensity was not sufficient to describe the flames in her heart.

"I have been waiting for this day all my life. I have previously thought that this would be a dream! Now that it has actually happened, I must hold fast to it!"

"But… the royals do not wish to see any bloodshed!" the Black Belt Warrior was a little hesitant, but he still had to say it. "The Andrews already aren't our natural enemies! No matter how much you refuse to admit it, you need to recognize this as an undeniable fact."

"Remember Yakta!" Arayna had suddenly lost her patience. She abruptly sat bolt upright on the bed. Her voluptuous breasts jiggled in the haste of her fury. "That man has murdered Yakta! Yakta was my teacher and also yours!"

The Black Belt Warrior shook his head, "Yakta died on the battlefield! There's nothing to complain about. Even the True God will not…"

"Enough!" Arayna lifted the embroidered quilt and leaped down from the bed. She was indeed naked. "Don't bring up the True God! If you still remember your belief and teachings of the prophets, you should be clear about what it signifies for us to accept that pagan!"

The Princess chose a simple knight uniform for herself and also wrapped a dark blue silk cloth around her face.

The Black Belt Warrior eyed the Princess doubtingly, "you shouldn't do this! The True God only taught us the way to regard this world justly. The scriptures that we recite daily can only be summarized with one word, which is – love, and not slaughter!"

"Yes… love!" Arayna groaned softly, but her gaze became even more resolute. "The Andrews provide my Emperor father with protection, but I'm the bargaining chip for the compromise of both sides. Does the True God consider this just? If this is just… why do I not feel even the slightest love for my groom, merely anger and hatred?"

"You're sure… you don't love him?"

Arayna's deep violet pupils contracted abruptly as if she had been startled. She seemed to have heard the most absurd statement in the world. "By the True God, what are you saying?"

The Black Belt Warrior shook his head lightly. He already did not feel like saying anymore. The Arayna he knew only too well had completely transformed into a different person after that tragic Narcissus trip ended! She had trained her swordsmanship manically as if she had been possessed. She mumbled to herself like a mentally ill and poured out her worries to that pot of Narcissus.

Be it love or not, it did not matter. This marriage was actually pretty simple. Just as what Arayna said, the Mogadishus provided the bargaining chip and in exchange, the Andrews provided protection.

O'Neil Andrew Morisette finally viewed the majestic ocean. That deep, distant, sky blue lightened his mood, but only slightly. He still had tons of things to worry about.

The channel emitted a resplendent luster under the scorching sun. A few four-mast schooners of the Persians were bobbing on the surface of the clear, gleaming ocean. The sailboats made Oscar reminisce about his childhood. During his younger days, he had fiddled with various sailboat models in the bathtub and dreamed of conquering the ocean.

The bride escorting procession made up of the Red Tiger knights went through the streets of Fort Istantine. This multi-ethnic metropolis prepared fitting praises and flowers for the new conquerors. When the Andrews, the natural enemies, established their presence, they did not encounter powerful local opposition as anticipated. Both the historical remains of the God of Light and the monastery ruins of Fort Istantine had declared a fact to the people, which was, the territory of the God-chosen warriors was originally here and they had merely returned.

The Narcissus knight procession entered the main gatehouse of the fort by the great coastal wall at the edge of the city. The trumpeter within the castle sounded an upbeat and festive tune. The Oprahseb Lighthouse that was known far and wide had its lights lit in broad daylight. Bosphorus Channel and the essence of the Disin Sea's coastal area exuded a fresh, captivating style in the eyes of the Narcissus knights. The house of the Ottoman nobles relied on the shore and mountainous topography. The complex golden Persian building was decorated by the invigorating ocean breeze, the forest, and the bright-colored rowboats.

The authority class of Fort Istantine piled up a foundation of rocks in the area at which the sea ebbed and rose and upon that foundation, they built a delicately sculptured wooden residence. The fragrance of the sycamores wafted throughout the shiny wooden residence, while Persian roses exhibited a diverse array of colors on the cliffs and thicket that had the channel behind it.

The Great Mogadishu Emperor only possessed a ferry crossing that was used exclusively by the Imperial Household members. Although this ferry crossing could not fully display the royal house's boldness, the various details of the decoration and structure on the granite pile portrayed its given historical and capital glory and extravagance.

The locals referred to this pillbox-styled ferry crossing as Maqeeda. This was the name of a Great Mogadishu Emperor. The Mogadishus of Maqeeda at that time did not care about the empty treasury of the Imperial Palace and spent a period of over forty years to construct the giant fort that stood on the coastline. Its domed roof design was undoubtedly the best in the world. It was put together from two thousand over marble slabs after meticulous calculations.

The dock where the Imperial Household's ferry was berthed was huge. The spacious dock was one of the best works of Abdul Jedda, a fabled construction master of Persian, during his later years. Master Jedda's works were all over the great royal territories of Persian, but only the "Maqeeda Castle Port" was unique. This closed off ferry crossing in the form of a fort was more like a dock. It utilized the load-bearing technology of the Roman Baroque buildings and its extremely heavy peak was fully supported by twenty-four massive pillars! Not only that, Master Jedda, in

in order to address the problem of the sinking foundation of the shore, put to use the casting technique of shells, limestone, and crushed bluestones and finally produced a succinct masterpiece that surpassed that of the East and West, which integrated the construction skills of various ethnics.

The thing that caused O'Neil Andrew Morisette to be left in awe was not the outrageous castle ferry crossing, but the luxurious internal décor of the Imperial Mogadishu Household's ferry. The Titan prince was riding in the private ferry of the great royal. This huge twenty-nine meters long sailboat actually had more than ten rooms of different sizes and functions. Every cabin was painted with enamel and filled with gold carvings.

"Ola… is this a palace?"

The entourage of the Imperial Mogadishu Household upon hearing this, beamed with pride. Figg shot a look at his bumpkin-like brother, "You're so naïve… you haven't been to Justania, opposite the channel! The capital cities of the Kingdom will simply appear like undeveloped villages compared to it!"

"Really?" Oscar gasped in anticipation.

"Of course!" Figg arched his eyebrows, pleased. His expression was one that only conquerors would have. "When we arrive in the Mogadishu's palace, shall I help you hold your jaw? I'm worried it may drop onto the ground."

Oscar shrugged, "Are you talking about Baqeeda Palace?"

Figg nodded. He still recalled the first time he strode into Baqeeda Palace. It seemed that… he just kept supporting his jaw.

"Ola… if it really is as you say, then let it be my Summer Palace…"

"You're dreaming!" Figg struck the high-spirited master with all his might.

Normally, all the people would take Fort Istantine and Justania for a single city. However, that was not the actual case. Both the names represented completely different historical periods, just that after experiencing the long rule of the Persian Romans, they no longer cared to look into the historical sources.

As the new city on the left bank of the channel, Justania was entirely a territory of Persian culture. Here there were brightly colored flat-roofed buildings while in the noble community where the nobles and privileged class gathered, it was filled with circular domed roofs that symbolized the cosmos and tall worship buildings.

The field of view on the ferry dock was limited. However, the locals of the place still could catch sight of Prophet Sailimi Mosque that towered into the heavens. This was the main temple of the Mogadishu clan's honored Palimahmat Sect. It was the direction where countless disciples on both shores of the channel faced during their morning and evening prayers.

The Narcissus knight procession reorganized themselves at the dock of the Imperial Household at the east coast. Justania did not have a spacious street, merely a mountain road that could only accommodate six horses and deep, noisy allies.

The dark-skinned Persians were watching on either side of the street. Due to the Great Mogadishu Emperor, the Narcissus knights reserved a considerable amount of armed forces. This was the last symbol of the Mogadishus whose tyranny once reigned. With pikes in hand and round shields before their bodies, the Ottoman warriors were as terrified as the onlooking crowd. Their pikes had once pierced through the chests of the Narcissus knights and their shields had once been covered by the marks from sabers, but now… they had to welcome their archenemies as guards.

However… the enemies no longer existed! The Empire of the Ottoman warriors and the glory that lasted several hundred years had already crumbled. Without the protection of the Narcissus knights, their land and women would have been thoroughly robbed by the Akangens [1]. Their perseverance and belief would also have to yield to the more powerful sects.

Under the odd ambiance, the welcoming procession of the Narcissus knights passed through the market, the town square, the Prophet Sailimi Mosque that was a replica of Saint Sophia Church. Lastly, they arrived at the public square of Baqeeda Palace and following the advanced agreement, arranged themselves into a tight formation.

The onlookers discussed in hushed tones. The elderly were recounting the previous war stories and the young were mulling over the leader of Andrew who resided on the "Magical Beast". As for the children, they were the most innocent group. They were still at the age where they looked up to heroes and yearned to engage in combat. The Raytheon in murals naturally could not compare to the real thing before their eyes. The children squeezed into the gaps between the shields. They weaved in and out among the Narcissus knights but all their intentions of touching the "Magical Beast" failed. Baqeeda Palace's castrated chamberlains would remove the children from the procession one after another.

O'Neil Andrew Morisette's Raytheon inherited two of the noblest lineages in the world. It only had to slightly bow its head and ear-piercing cries would escape from the people for its thick neck and figure that was as perfect as a bow. The Raytheon turned its ears, trying to catch every source of sound. Under the fretful atmosphere filled with all sorts of sounds, it stomped uneasily on the spotless white flagstones, producing a metallic rumble of horse hooves.

"Good boy! Good boy!" Oscar calmed little Oslu. Just when he was about to lose his patience as well, the huge gates of Baqeeda Palace flew open. The Ottoman warriors that lined both sides of the public square immediately blew their horns. The soldiers guarding the gates gave an ancient salute to the Narcissus knights and then they sank to their knees beside the horses of the conquerors.

Oscar was a little perplexed, but his brother leaped off the back of his horse freely. Figg Andrew Tibotty stepped heavily onto the human bodies that acted as dismounting stools. He could feel the flexibility and tremor of the "dismounting stools". This realization made Figg heave a contented sigh, but his younger brother averted his head derisively.

With an agile movement, Oscar leaped off the horse on the other side and helped the soldier that had prostrated himself on the ground. He had fallen with everything that he could possess as a conqueror, but when he saw the machetes hanging on the waist of the Ottoman warriors, he developed a strong sense of belonging. This sense of belonging was the deep impression left by his continuous listening to litanies and the few near perfect sword dances when he was young.

A Narcissus officer violently struck a "dismounting stool" that was distracted using his riding crop.

"Don't block the way!"

All around, the Ottoman warriors directed their attention towards them. They saw that there was a distinct lash mark on the soldier uniform of their fellow compatriot.

The warrior who had taken a beating locked eyes with O'Neil Andrew Morissette. Although he could not read his opponent's expression, he could feel the peace and tranquility in it. Without the expected fury, the soldier withdrew.

Oscar's gaze swept over the crowd present on the scene and looked at the deep palace gates. Suddenly, he felt could not wait any longer. Totally different from his previous disapprove; he tried his best to visualize his bride's appearance. He even prayed to the gods that the third wedding of his life would be unique.

Although the Titan Prince's imagination of Baqeeda Palace had a fair amount of magical tint to it, the luxury and extravagance of the palace still made young Oscar pale. Regarding the extravagance displayed in the palace, Oscar could only understand it as… the ruler of the Mogadishu tribe detested gold and porcelain and hated enamel household utensils and agate crystals.

The parts within view all had their original color obscured by the sunlight and brilliance of the golden tools and only the dark green enamel pillars and crystal lampstands that made one dizzy were shining with golden rays. Compared to the uniform decoration of the Eastern palaces, the Persians loved the sunlight, land, flowing water and the color green even more. Every room in Baqeeda Palace had windows and balconies that provided good lighting set up. A few circular domed roofs that were not set with gold carvings were replaced by glass and crystal. All sorts of green shrubs were planted in the palace. However, one would by no means come across a porcelain flower pot because the constructors of the palace had left loose, fertile soil on the ceramic tiled floor.

Within the great hall, gold-painted pieces of furniture were in picturesque disorder. Most of them were chairs and soft beds that had enormous cushions. Bright rays of light spilled onto the furniture from the skylight and an oversized Persian cat had settled itself onto it, forming a harmonious scene with the women on the rug.

Under the leadership of the Great Mogadishu Emperor, the men weaved in and out beside the group of women. This crown prince did not seem to mind others nitpicking at his wife. He was observing Oscar's expression. If the young commander found someone that he took a liking to in the imperial harem, he did not mind sharing that wonderful thing with his son-in-law. This was one of the customs of the Imperial Persian Ottoman Household. The royals used the ability of their wives to attract men in determining the worth of that woman.

Passing through rooms upon rooms of the palace, when more than a hundred gorgeously dressed women had made an appearance, the Great Mogadishu Emperor finally came to a halt before a huge door.

The great royal that was sparkling with the brilliance of precious stones bowed to the young Titan prince, "You have given me livestock and in exchange, I hand over my most precious riches over to you!"

Oscar nodded, "That's right!"

The Palace's chamberlain immediately opened the huge doors. Outside the door was a vast clearing. What made it difficult for Oscar to believe was outside the doors, spread out following the topography of the mountain, was actually… a theatre? However, Wozakad Elladan, who had been reserved all the while, reminded the groom that this was the battleground of the wedding.

The battleground of the Imperial Household wedding was not much different from the semicircle theater of the ancient Roman era and the Persians merely added their own decorations to this building. The semicircle, hilltop theater was not more than thirty meters from top to bottom. It was connected to Baqeeda Palace and in the direction of the fighting platform, a massive wall stood, covered with relief sculptures and decorative motives. The massive wall still had a spire and that was the watchtower of the palace.

Ottoman nobles had filled the battleground. However, there was not a single clergy. It seemed that this was the agreement of both wedding parties.

The appearance of the conquerors did not stir a commotion on the scene. This was probably the most peaceful wedding ceremony in the history of the Imperial Mogadishu Family. A true Persian wedding ceremony would always be accompanied by the deafening sound of drums and relatives and friends that were making a racket.

The bride sat on the rug at the center of the fighting platform alone. She was draped in a dark red wedding dress and a veil decorated with diamonds obscured her face.

Oscar sized up his new wife. Strangely, his previous yearning had vanished into thin air. The Persian Princess sat there stock-still, as lifeless as a dead fish laid out to be slaughtered. Oscar could not help but feel a little suspicious. Had something gone wrong somewhere? In his subconscious, he recalled the Persian bride was not as she was now.

The Titan Prince inclined his head slightly and turned to face the Mogadishu royal. "Tell me, what should I do?"

The great royal clapped his hand and more than ten warriors that sat on either side of the Princess immediately got up.

"Defeat them and then you can bring my daughter away."

Oscar also stood up, "then… how does it count as a victory?" It seemed that he did not want to waste any time.

The Great Mogadishu Emperor measured up the young commander of Andrew calmly. "When you have won, I will naturally see it."

"So be it!" Oscar left his seat and walked slowly towards the center of the battleground. Ten identically dressed Ottoman warriors gradually spread out, forming a fan formation that had a repressive nature around the Titan Prince.

Oscar came to a halt at the center of the formation. He removed the leather purse on his back.

Eight Ottoman warriors stepped out of the formation and raised their machetes and greeted the groom according to the custom practiced for countless generations. Oscar tapped the leather purse lightly and the pouch immediately loosened and fell to the ground. However, that gleaming machete had the people completely captivated.

"Anti Dragon Scale!" someone shrieked from among the Persian nobles.

"It really is Anti Dragon Scale!"

Oscar slowly gripped the hilt of the blade and then lunged the machete out violently. The Anti Dragon Scale emitted a bright sound. This sound penetrated into the heavens and resounded for a very long time in the skies of its native land. Oscar felt every throb of the hilt. That was his blood surging and also the cry from the soul of the blade.

The eight Ottoman warriors who had stood out could not help but exchange glances with each other. What was Anti Dragon Scale? They had all heard and seen on the murals of the temple. They were merely warriors who served the True God. They were not worthy of the battle invitation extended by the Great Ottoman Kahlifa's warrior of God.

Oscar observed the eight sword wielders carefully. The position and angle in which they stood were extremely odd. The teaching of the Black Belt Warrior, Wozakad Elladan told the youngster that he was about to experience a formidable knife formation.

"Withdraw!" a sweet-sounding voice suddenly traveled out. Oscar's attention was instantly captured by the source of the sound.

A female warrior with an elegant figure emerged. She was aware that the man at the center of the battleground had already taken note of her long since. She had to admit that this man was difficult to deal with. This was because his thoughts had all the while been on her and the Black Belt Warrior. As for the other eight sword wielders, he only looked directly at them a while ago.

"Everyone withdraw!"

Relieved, the eight warriors heaved a sigh. Under the murmurs of the crowd, they swiftly withdraw from the battleground. Oscar watched all these, somewhat suspicious. He did not expect a single machete to have such a huge impact.

"The Anti Dragon Scale is a keepsake bestowed by the True God. You're a child of Andrew; how did you come to have it?" the female warrior whose face was obscured brought forth her question in the crisp Titan language.

Oscar shrugged. He felt regret over the disrespect in the other's words. At this moment, any move that provoked the Andrews would receive the cruelest beat down! It was such a shame to the woman's figure and her superior gifted tongue.

The Titan Prince who had made up his mind paid no attention to the inquiry of the female warrior. He circled his machete around his chest.

Then, he spun the point of his blade towards the direction of the sun. The warm current circulated on the blade. Oscar's thoughts drifted into the distant time and space. A silent prison cell, a tattered rug, sunlight brought in a shaft of light through the iron window. The shrine radiated with serenity and peace via the incense burner.

The female warrior was infuriated by the other's manner! She thrust a narrow female sword into the air! The Mogadishu royal who had witnessed all these could not help but cover his face. This female warrior who came from the temple was actually vowing a battle to the death!

Oscar's eyes widened abruptly. The figure of a teenager emerged in his mind. The teenager was brandishing his sword silently in a prison cell. The glint of the sword swept in every direction as if encompassing all living things beneath the heavens.

In practically a split second, the female warrior's face became stiff. The man's silhouette had vanished without a trace before her eyes! She only felt a breeze brush past her. The warm spring breeze ruffled her hair, but she did not feel the cold that penetrated her bones. She subconsciously glanced to behind. The man was actually crouching on the ground. His arm was held before him with the Anti Dragon Scale in his hand!

"He… has already drawn his blade?" the female warrior's consciousness plunged into complete panic. She had not even started, but the opponent had already finished! This was the showdown she had imagined and also a kind of humiliation, a humiliation that was far more painful than that experienced years ago!

The Black Belt Warrior suddenly supported the female warrior by the shoulder. "You've lost!"

Oscar stood up from the ground and also swiveled around to face the female warrior behind him. "Yes, you've lost!"

The female warrior's shoulders were trembling. She shook off the Black Belt Warrior's massive hands fiercely and without a backward glance, rushed down the fighting platform. Not long after, a great bang of a door traveled out from the direction of the palace.

"Black Belt Warrior?" the remaining blade wielder inquired respectfully.

"Black Belt Warrior!" Oscar raised his machete and nodded at his opponent.

The crowd of Persian nobles once again erupted in earth-shaking cheers. What had become of this world? The Anti Dragon Scale had suddenly shown itself! Furthermore, the leader of the Andrew Family was actually a Black Belt Warrior! He had even inexplicably defeated the top-notch swordsman that was nurtured by the temple. However… there were a few people present that had managed to observe the Titan Prince's attacking move. Wozakad Elladan was one of them. To be more precise, he was so excited he was trembling. His student being declared to be a Black Belt Warrior was not a surprise in the slightest. This was because his student had already mastered the true essence of the machete. The machete originated from the Ottoman tribe's ancient worship of the moon god. They moon god. They believed that it was the wane of the new moon that dominated the survival and destruction of all living things in the world and the machete was the symbol of such power. It vanished during the waning moon.

The Black Belt Warrior on the battleground finally sprung into action! It had been ages since he had performed a sword salute to anyone, but his movements were as natural as the rising and setting of the moon.

O'Neil Andrew Morisette's gaze moved slowly, following the shadow of the other's sword. He did not feel any pressure for this empty, imaginary feeling, but instead felt a great tremble to his soul. He gave a violent shake of his hand and the pitch-black gleam of the blade immediately flooded out.

The Mogadishu tribe's Black belt Warrior did not use the "wane" of the machete to counter his opponent's attack. With incredible speed, he met it with the perfect "circle". The two crescent blades sparked brilliant and enticing fireworks in the air. The violent clash of metals caused the two battling men to be within an arm's reach of each other.

The Black Belt Warrior circled the scene slowly with the youngster opposite him. They maintained similar steps. Their eyes only saw the point of the other's blade and the various details of the body. This subtle rhythm made up a difficult to describe melody. The swordsmen who were in sync with each other were like spinning dancers.

Oscar was the first to break the impasse! His first lunge already bore results. The person, or perhaps it was his blade, caused the Anti Dragon Scale soldier of God to develop an ingrained fear. His moves evidently came to a standstill at the moment both the blades clashed and then the force that was imposed onto the Anti Dragon Scale vanished rapidly!

Just this slight hesitation was sufficient to determine the outcome of the decisive battle! The Titan Prince was completely engrossed. His machete sliced through the spring breeze, broke through the sound barrier and swept towards the enemy's throat like the surge of the crashing tide.

The Black Belt Warrior did not choose to parry. Instead, he used the back of his blade to block the opponent's Anti Dragon scale. However, his eyes were confused b the jet-black scabbard.

"This is the left hand!" the Black Belt Warrior only hesitated for half a second. His machete, upon coming into contact with the scabbard immediately flew, spinning away. The sharp, gleaming blade spun one round slowly and then accelerated with unbelievable speed until it collided with the chest and abdomen of the Titan Prince.

O'Neil Andrew Morisette's machete had also left his hand at that moment. The Black Belt Warrior's blade throwing technique was already as easy as pie to him since long ago. The two machetes met by chance in the air. The acceleration of the spinning created a massive force. The machetes flew upwards upon colliding. Two figures soared into the air. They caught their respective weapons and then during that brief moment they brushed past each other, exchanged numerous blows!

The whole sky that was dotted with stars surrounded both the forms of the top-notch swordsmen. When they landed on the ground due to gravity, a new form was born! The Titan Prince used the leverage from the last collision of the machetes to do a flip. He spun the blade in his left hand outwards and it struck on the Black Belt Warrior's backhand.

The Black Belt Warrior's expression was unusually dignified. He used his elbow to hit the scabbard that was studded with black diamonds! With a clang, the scabbard flew and landed in a corner of the battleground.

Oscar landed, followed by the Black Belt Warrior. However, the people could tell that the commander of the Andrew Family was calm and composed while the strongest Mogadishu warrior's left arm was shuddering mildly.

"Stop!" the Great Royal's shout finally rang out. The middle-aged man who was brimming with vigor left his seat and strode into the battleground. He then held onto his son-in-law's arm.

"Go on and take her!"

O'Neil Andrew Morisette gazed at the scabbard, which had landed at a distance. The Black Belt Warrior had already picked it up.

"Here!" the warrior knelt down on one knee and offered the scabbard with both his hands.

Oscar took the scabbard and turned towards his wife. His current state was even more like a conqueror than any point before.

"Rise and follow me!"

The princess got up. She was of a very tall height that almost came close to her husband's forehead.

Oscar heaved a gentle sigh. He was already indifferent to the sight of Arayna. He only remembered that this princess had once followed the Mogadishu's assassin unit and ventured into Narcissus territory and even took away many lives of knights. However, now… she was actually his wife? This was something that only heaven would know!

The chant of evening prayers traveled out from the silent palace. The True God's apostles stood on the tower of the Prophet Sailimi Mosque and sang the prayers from the scriptures. The noisy Justania was extremely quiet. Aside from the resounding, suave sound of chanting, there was not any other sound that could be heard, as if the whole universe had at this moment stopped moving.

The believers of the True God threw themselves onto the ground devoutly on the streets and in various worship buildings. They called out in unison and prayed to the True God that was far above in the heavens to grant them luck and blessings. O'Neil Andrew Morisette had already witnessed the religious custom of the pagans on more than one occasion, but each time, he was moved by this united spirit!

The drifting clouds in the sky and the lights over the great land reflected the ancient religious scriptures. The efforts of the believers of the True God created a scene that caused one to be on the verge of going mad and our little Oscar just decided to go mad at that moment! He abandoned his wife of a different tribe. However, to be more precise, it was his wife who cast him away. The Persian Princess did not seem to be very fluent in the Titan language. She did not respond towards her husband's words. When the entire palace was praying, Oscar was finally certain that this was not the thing he wanted.

The commander of the Andrew Family rode on his Raytheon and dashed over the mountain road. He arrived at the temple of the swordsmen before sunset.

"I'm looking for the female dancer on the wedding battleground!"

The defenders that were guarding the door bowed respectfully. Their gazes inadvertently fell onto the other's machete, which resulted in an even more intense devotion burning in their eyes!

Oscar saw the female warrior in one of the pavilions by the beach! The female warrior was wearing flimsy cotton clothing. The fiery light of the setting sun lit up her skin and hair. The ocean breeze lifted the hem of her clothes and exposed her smooth and round legs and solid belly.

She was practicing the ancient yoga techniques and did not seem to have any intentions of bothering about the man.

O'Neil Andrew Morisette stepped onto the soft rug and held the woman's waist with both his hands.

The woman stopped her actions but did not seem to resist.

"I've won, is there a prize?"

The pagan girl opened her purple eyes and gazed intently at the man before her. This man… was not someone she wanted! However… why did she close her eyes as his lips gradually edged closer? Why did she allow him to tear at her cotton clothes as he pleased?

"By the True God, rescue the confused Arayna!" the woman prayed anxiously. Her soft body moved under the man's touch. Her eyes were distant but still held stubborn rays of light.

When O'Neil Andrew Morisette's mind and form had received the most intense and fulfilling satisfaction, he bit the woman's ear.

"Arayna, this is what I want!"

The ocean breeze and the man's words caused the body of the princess of a different tribe to shrink back. She lay down in her husband's embrace, not making any comments regarding the man's crazy talk. However, she thought… if this were really the karma that the True God had in store for her, then she would try to endure it.

Chapter end