Four Split Personalities

If we set aside the crucial factor of logic, there seems to be some indescribable connection between Ramollok, who directed a large-scale war, and Motan, who was twice forced to sit in the commander’s seat.

Even following logic, Motan feels that if the other party studied the two battles he was in charge of commanding, they could likely glean some insights from the tactics used by the Diser Delegation.

After all, any successful commander inevitably has a personal style, something akin to a ’label’.

In certain circumstances, this ’label’ can even be more reliable than any form of identification.

Therefore, when Ramollok immediately identified Motan as the tactical designer for the Diser Delegation, the latter didn’t try to resist anymore.

"If I were truly considerate, I wouldn’t have asked Sir Foster to find a way to get you to participate in the [Warfire League]."

Ramollok chuckled self-deprecatingly, brushing his nose awkwardly: "I hope, Black Vatican Priest, you don’t mind too much. After all, as fellow commanders and both clergy, it’s really hard not to face my desire to ’play a round’ with you."

[Play a round...]

Perhaps it is so. Compared to facing those mutated creatures, compared to facing those heretics with twisted personalities, engaging in a bloodless, injury-free simulation in such a peaceful environment can indeed be described as ’playing,’ but—

To be honest, no matter what, Motan didn’t want to ’play’ with this person in any form.

There is a fundamental difference between the two.

Motan and Ramollok are people from two different worlds.

At least, from the perspective of the former, this is the case.

So, Motan and Ramollok should not intersect in any way, in other words, they have extremely poor compatibility!

At least, from the perspective of the former, this is the case.

But the latter clearly doesn’t think so.

Or perhaps, precisely because he does think this way, it makes him all the more eager to ’play a round’ with Motan under such circumstances.

"That’s what I’m saying~"

Ramollok suddenly laughed, shrugged, "If I’m eliminated too soon, I won’t encounter Black Vatican Priest in the later matches. Aiyaya, just thinking about it makes me feel a lot of pressure."

Motan was slightly taken aback, surprised, "What do you mean by this?"

"What do you mean?"

Ramollok casually took off his monocle, lightly wiped it with the hem of his robe, and said in a cheerful tone, "It’s literally what I said. If I can’t make it to the top sixteen, I won’t be able to meet you. To be honest, I’m actually not very good at this kind of strategic game, so I’m quite nervous."

"Make it to the top sixteen?"

Motan ignored the latter half of Ramollok’s sentence, exclaiming, "That’s not right, Chief Priest Ramollok, you should be a special invitee like me. Captain Foster told me that special invitees..."

"Special invitees can directly start from the top thirty-two, without going through the qualifiers or the first three rounds of the main event. Theoretically, that’s correct."

Ramollok laughed helplessly, spreading his hands, "But there are only six spots for special invitees. If there aren’t enough, they can choose someone from the seeded players to directly enter the top thirty-two. But if there are too many, although it’s rare, it means someone has to ’humble themselves’ to play in the earlier rounds."

Motan blinked blankly. This was something Foster had never mentioned. All the information he had from beginning to end was that, as a special invitee, he could directly start from the top thirty-two.

"Hehe, that’s how it is. Captain Foster told me that there were three rounds of invitations for the [Warfire League] this time. All six people invited in the first round declined, and in the second round, including you and me, four out of six declined. Three out of four invited in the third round accepted."

Ramollok smiled and winked at Motan, patiently explaining, "And before they sent out a fourth round of invitations, I proactively approached them, stating that as long as Black Vatican Priest could participate in the [Warfire League], I would also accept the invitation. As a result... hehe, after you agreed, there was one more special invitee."

Motan finally understood, nodding, "I see, so Chief Priest Ramollok you..."

"Actually, using Foster’s words, the organizers could completely find a way to gather another person, like that student Batty Arthur, to expand the number of people who can start directly from the top-thirty-two to eight."

Ramollok smiled, putting his monocle back on, and said merrily, "Because according to the rules, in the thirty-two to sixteen matches, special invitees only compete against other special invitees. Therefore, the intensity of the [Warfire League] matches from thirty-two to sixteen is even higher than the finals, since there are three matches of gods duking it out. And in Captain Foster’s opinion, even if there’s one more special invitee entering the top sixteen, it’s entirely acceptable, it’s just..."

Motan frowned, "You refused?"

"Yes, because I’ve already caused them enough trouble, there’s got to be a limit to the privileges of the privileged class."

Ramollok wagged his finger, saying calmly, "So although I apologize to Batty, I still asked Captain Foster for a main event spot, meaning I’ll start from the two hundred fifty-six to one hundred twenty-eight matches, and only after three rounds might I be divided into your group."

Motan tugged at the corner of his mouth, casually paying a compliment, "I didn’t expect Captain Foster to actually agree to let you start from the beginning main event rounds, it seems somewhat unfair to other competitors."

"Our participation itself is inherently unfair to other competitors."

Ramollok said lazily, indifferently glancing around at the increasing number of competitors: "However, since there are no rewards except for the top three, it’s not particularly unfair."

Listening to Ramollok’s tone, it was hard to imagine he was the same person who jokingly claimed earlier that he was ’very nervous’.

Just then, a strong wave suddenly swept through the air, and a thin middle-aged man wearing glasses suddenly appeared in the center of the arena. Simultaneously, everyone present, including the audience, quieted down in unison. Based on Motan’s analysis, on one hand, this indicated that the competition was about to start, and on the other hand, the man in the center of the arena, who looked extraordinarily serious, had a significant background.

"Richard Ducasse, aged forty-eight, is the youngest dean in the history of the [Dan Slave Military Academy]."

Seeing Motan curiously eyeing that middle-aged man, Ramollok explained in a breezy tone, "Although only at Advanced Stage in power, he is reputed as the strongest naval expert on the entire continent. It’s said that thirty years ago, he was a sailor in the secondary fleet of the Skalan Duchy. Not long after, the [Tide War] broke out across the Southeast Continent, with the Sea Tribe launching a large-scale invasion that wiped out two powerful empires. People were in panic, and soon, initiated by the Violet Empire, the [East Sea Imperial United Fleet] covering half the continent was formed."

Motan nodded thoughtfully, continuing, "So, this Dean Richard is..."

"Starting as a sailor, it took him only two years to earn the rank of grand marshal in the Scarlan Empire and was appointed as the Supreme Commander of the [East Sea Imperial United Fleet] before the final battle."

Ramollok praised the middle-aged man, who looked much like a full-time school dean, with admiration: "Dean Richard is undoubtedly a top-tier strategist."

"A strategist, huh..."

"Indeed, just like us~"

Chapter 1264: End

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