The Deadly Assassin Robin (Tristan Storm) novel Chapter 1120

"Our bet expires at midnight tomorrow," said Aeron, his face a mask of anger.

"The bet isn't over, you can't claim victory yet!"

Eryndor chuckled, "Aeron, you're deluding yourself. No one would believe that you could enlist the aid of the world's top fighter within such a short time. I've witnessed every scheme in Elaria. This bet is over. Destiny itself confirms it. Bastien is gone, vanquished by the Divine Drakebane. Glenoril's agency rights in Southeast Aurientia belong to me. Surrender, Aeron. Perhaps I'll grant you a small regional concession."

Aeron snorted, "Everyone in Elaria knows about this bet. Force my hand, and you'll lose everyone's trust!"

"Is that so?" A burly man stepped forward. This man was none other than Thorne Winterstrike, the number one fighter in Elaria.

"Aeron, your gambit failed. Bastien, the top warrior of Sakurania, is nothing but dust now. What's your next move? You're just delaying the inevitable. No one in Southeast Aurientia can withstand my Iron Fist. Just surrender."

Aeron, Ryden, and the several sturdy bodyguards behind them immediately tensed up.

If they could not defeat Thorne, Aeron knew that would mean the forfeiture of Glenoril's Southeast Aurientia agency rights.

The precious gem that they had fought with blood, sweat, and a large sum of money would be gone.

If Thorne made a move now, that would be the end.

The sudden appearance of Thorne sent a wave of astonishment through the assembled onlookers.

Although Aeron and Eryndor were relatively unknown, Thorne—the undefeated top fighter of Elaria—was a household name.

Overwhelmed by their combined public pressure, Ryden's face twisted with rage as he shouted, "Thorne, Eryndor, this is outrageous! The terms of the bet are valid until midnight tomorrow! Demanding a surrender now is completely unreasonable! Do you really think your status gives you the right to ignore all sense of fairness?"

Thorne's eyes narrowed as he turned to Ryden. "A challenge, then?"

Cornered, Ryden's defiance ignited. "I'll challenge you! Your reputation is all talk. I'm not afraid!"

Thorne laughed, "Very well, I'll teach you what it means to be ignorant."

A loud whoosh sent the crowd scrambling back, in fear of being caught in the crossfire.

Their faces lit up with feverish excitement.

"The number one fighter in Elaria is going to fight Aeron's son!"

"This is even better than any paid entertainment!"

"This cruise is turning into a spectacle!!"

"Who will come out on top? Can Aeron's son withstand Thorne's assault?"

"Highly unlikely!"

"Thorne's skill is undeniable!"

"Rumor has it, he's clashed with Bastien, Sakurania's Warrior Champion, in epic battles with no clear winner!"

Thorne launched himself forward like a human juggernaut.

Ryden threw up his arms in a desperate attempt to block, but Thorne's Iron Fist tore through his defenses, sending him crashing into the wine cabinet.

His body writhed in agonizing spasms while coughing out blood.

Thorne sneered. "You're nothing but an insect. Don't even think about challenging me."

Aeron's face paled, his eyes wide with fear. He started coughing vigorously.

Eryndor chuckled coldly. "Still clinging to the hope of tomorrow, Aeron? There's no way you're becoming Glenoril's agent in Southeast Aurientia. You're hopelessly outmatched."

Aeron's voice shook with desperation as he declared, "I've asked for Mr. Drakebane's help—the very man who took down Bastien!"

Thorne and Eryndor were both rendered speechless with shock. "What did you just say?"

Aeron cackled as he continued, "He's on this very ship. Still feel so confident?"

Thorne and Eryndor's bodies went rigid, tension rolling off them. "The Divine Drakebane?" They exchanged uneasy glances, brows knitted with concern.

How has Aeron managed to gain the support of such a legendary figure?

If his claim is true, our victory is anything but certain.