Strongest Grimoire Of The Gods

Chapter 162: Continental Event (3) Play

As they took a bow, Augustus sat back in his chair.

"Tsk..." He spoke in a low tone, "That peasant still isn't here... bastard." Augustus suddenly gritted his teeth in anger.

The other emperors faced him.

For a few seconds, there was silence.

And then, Karax Haou of Zasea said something:

"Don't spoil the surprise... soft skin." He said in a deep and calm voice, facing forward.

Augustus raised a brow, looking toward Karax with an offended look on his face:

"What did you just call me? You dare wish to speak like that again, you savage brute?" Augustus retorted in irritation.

This prompted Karax to slowly turn his head toward the emperor of Rock Saelfine, a hint of malicious intent unable to help but leak out of him.

Syelthus shook his head in disappointment on seeing this.

"Fools..." Dhum said under his breath, equally disappointed.

In the mix of this small altercation, Julius' voice interjected: "Stop... both of you."

On hearing this, both Augustus and Karax glanced toward Julius, who had a stern look on his face.

Augustus rolled his eyes before sitting back even further into his throne.

Karax, on the other hand, had a different reaction: "Don't tell me what to do, kid." He exclaimed, abruptly standing up.

"Where are you going?" Julius asked.

"I'll be back before the main event." Karax exclaimed before disappearing.

Julius exhaled.

'Children... I have immature children as emperor comrades...' He also shook his head.

Soon after this, the other empires showcased their artwork.

The Douden Federation showcased a marvelous moving statue made of iron.

Ovalantis showed a small galaxy created before the eyes of the very people within the arena.

And finally, Zasea showcased a monstrous beast that threatened to destroy the entire arena itself, scaring the shit out of some folk.

However, none of these came even close to surpassing Edenharl Garden's art.

In the end, over half an hour passed before it was finally time for Rock Saelfine's art team to have a go.

Augustus seemed bored up until this point.

But now, he rose slightly in his seat with a smile on his face as he saw dozens of slaves line the stage.

"Finally... something that actually seems fun." He said.

Dhum looked at him, thinking: 'Damn demon... he only fancies things that result in slaves getting hurt.

If it wasn't for his position, I would have buried him by now.' He clenched his jaw.

The crowd looked on with anticipation and slight anxiety as to what Rock Saelfine had in store this time.

Every time their art was shown, it would usually result in a horrifying ending where something would go very wrong... on purpose.

The people on stage were easily identifiable as slaves due to the metal shackles on their hands and feet, but other than that, they wore different clothing than that of a slave.

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Some were dressed in brown robes, others in pristine clothing and robes.

Others were clad in knight's armor, and others were wearing simple attire.

"This... is a play of how Tyr defeated the Black Merchant Guild!" One of the slaves exclaimed.

The crowd paused for a moment, taking this slightly shocking revelation in before applauding in amusement.

And so, the play went on.

A young man dressed as Tyr was painted in a golden color.

He also had lanterns on his shoulders which were burning in a golden flame—giving the illusion of what Tyr looked like in the newspapers and media videos.

The fake Tyr stood before three other figures, the fake members of Judgement.

They were all dressed similarly but were hideous compared to the real group.

Despite this, they had a full-on brawl against multiple other members who were dressed in brown robes and knight's armor.

There was also one taller figure who resembled a fake Black, leader of the guild.

In the play, the members of Judgement fought with the Black Merchant Guild members as Tyr took on Black.

As the battle seemed to be lost, in a final display of power, Tyr took down the villain and grabbed his heart from out of his chest.

Of course, the fake Tyr grabbed a fake heart.

He raised it in the air as the crowd cheered, and crushed it, causing fake blood to explode all over the stage.

As the applause settled, the fake Tyr walked toward the crowd and faced them while panting.

"I... will be the king!" The valiant Tyr exclaimed, causing an amused and surprised reaction from the crowd, like a parent listening to the bold wishes of their child.

Then, a golden crown appeared on Tyr's head, matching his golden flames and skin.

The play ended with that brilliant display, and the crowd erupted into a roar of cheer and applause once again.

However, in the process of the celebration, Augustus' voice broke through the noise: "Blasphemy!" He screamed in anger all of a sudden.

The crowd immediately quieted down on hearing this, fearful and confused.

Augustus stood up, a vein popping out of his forehead in anger.

The slave playing as Tyr turned and faced the emperor with a fearful expression.

"W-what is the matter, your glory?" He said in a meager, shaky tone.

"Slave..." Augustus began to speak, clearly seething with anger, "Not only do you speak back to me... as if you and I are equals... but you dare wear a golden crown in the presence of the Emperor!?"

A wave of gasps fueled by shock and realization washed through the crowd.

The slave paused for a millisecond before quickly taking the golden crown off his head.

"I-I am terribly sorry!" The slave fell onto his knees, "The crown represents Tyr's golden powers.

It did not mean to offend your authority at all, your glory!"

Augustus snarled, "Damn slave still wants to blabber in my ear... hawk tuah!"

The Emperor spat in the direction of the slave in disgust before continuing:

"No king in this continent dares to wear a golden crown.

Even those from the largest kingdoms below the five empires... or even those ruling the five empires... besides me, and me alone!" Augustus' voice echoed through the deadly silent arena.

The slave was on the floor, panting into the ground with wide eyes of horror.

With a disdainful expression from Augustus, the slave exploded out of nowhere from the inside.

Their blood and organs were splattered across the stage, as a gasp rippled across the crowd.

"Do not forget thy prestige!" Augustus roared, "I alone wear the golden crown!"