System's POV

Chapter 724    Flipping The Chessboard Of Fate

"You want to do what?!" Tristan, who was over the moon due to Roland's victory over Clark, looked at the teenage boy as if the latter was high on drugs. "You want to give the Ashford Clan a chance to make a comeback?! Are you out of your mind?!"

Thirteen took out a handkerchief from his pocket and calmly wiped his face that was hit by the flying spit from Tristan's mouth.

He also made sure to wipe Tiona's head before glancing at the enraged Field Marshal, who was looking at him in disbelief.

"Yes," Thirteen replied. "First, we need to pacify the Ashford Clan. Let's not forget that we are still in their territory. If we don't throw them an olive branch, do you really think that they will just allow this tournament to carry on peacefully?

"Their Seeded Candidate is already out of the picture. That means they now have less to lose. In other words, they can be bolder under the mindset that since they can no longer win anything, no one else deserves to win. You already know how vile the Ashford Clan is. Do you really think that they will take this lying down?"

Thirteen rested his chin over the back of his hand as he stared at the Field Marshal, who quieted down a bit as he pondered Thirteen's words.

Knowing that it was best to strike when the iron was still hot, the teenage boy once again started to talk.

"If the Ashford Clan is given another chance, they will not resort to any foul and vile means to hurt the participants of the tournament. In fact, they would feel grateful and feel like they owe the Central Government a favor.

"This is a win-win for everyone. No one needs to get hurt, and the competition can proceed peacefully. Isn't this the best-case scenario? With their cooperation, regardless of who wins this competition, they would not be able to say anything because they had been granted a second chance.

"Besides, the Seeded Candidates of the Prestigious Families also lost to my Squad Captains today. I'm sure they really hate the Central Government right now."

The more Thirteen talked, the more Tristan realized that this was indeed the case.

He didn't expect Zion's Squad Captains to actually win against the Candidates of the Prestigious Families, which would certainly cause an uproar among them.

Now that he was able to think calmly, Tristan also realized that giving everyone a chance might not be a bad thing!

"As I mentioned earlier, everyone will be appeased by this outcome. Also, I already sent a message to the Patriarchs of the Prestigious Families, telling them that their representatives still have a chance to fight once more in the competition.

"Not only will the Ashford Clan owe us, but the Prestigious Families will also follow suit. Heck, even the other representatives of the Monarch Clans would also have a chance, so they will definitely behave during the duration of the tournament."

Tristan didn't reply right away. He was carefully considering the pros and cons of Thirteen's proposal.

"You're taking a gamble," Tristan said in a solemn tone. "Also, even if I agree, Father might not agree to your proposal."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Sir," Thirteen replied. "I talked to the Grand Marshal before you, and he already agreed to my proposal."

The corner of Tristan's lips twitched as he looked at the no-good brat who talked to him last about his proposal.

"Why didn't you talk to me first?" Tristan asked with a frown.

"… Because I know that you are a man of outstanding character," Thirteen praised. "You will definitely agree because you are wise and can see the bigger picture."

Thirteen said more compliments, making Tristan smile despite knowing that he was simply being flattered.

In any case, being praised by Thirteen felt inexplicably nice, so he was now finding his proposal more acceptable.

Of course, Tristan didn't know that the main reason why Thirteen talked to him last was that, even if Tristan agreed to his proposal, it would still be shot down if the Grand Marshal didn't agree to it.

Simply put, the one calling the shots wasn't Tristan, but the Monarch of the Central Government.

Thirteen simply didn't want to offend his Superior Officer, so he made sure to compliment him a lot, making him feel embarrassed.

"Just tell me one thing—are you confident that our people will win this tournament?" Tristan asked.

"My people will win," Thirteen replied in a heartbeat. "That is guaranteed."

Instead of agreeing to Tristan's statement, the teenage boy used the word "My" instead of "Ours."

Tristan didn't really pay attention to Thirteen's wording because he believed that both of them were on the same side.

In a way, he was right.

They were on the same side.

But they didn't have the same people under them.

After careful consideration, the Field Marshal also thought that this was the most peaceful way to resolve the conflict between the Central Government, the Monarch Clans, and the Prestigious Families.

"I hope I don't regret this," Tristan muttered.

"You won't regret it," Thirteen replied. 'Besides, your father already agreed. Even if you disagree, the proposal is already set in stone.'

Of course, Thirteen didn't say his thoughts out loud and pretended that Tristan's opinion mattered.

Even though it didn't really matter.

After gaining the Field Marshal's support, Thirteen left the office and connected with Athena, collaborating with her to make his plan work out.

He had no intention of doing things halfway.

The moment he decided to move, he decided to go all out.

An hour later, Thirteen sat in the living room of their residence in Glory City.

His sister, Shasha, noticed that he looked a bit exhausted, so she offered to give him a shoulder massage.

Thirteen was more than happy to accept his sister's offer and enjoyed her shoulder massage.

Usually, his father and mother would ask Shasha to give them a shoulder massage back at home.

Because of this, she had become an expert in giving shoulder massages, even studying how to give a full body massage so she could do it well if she had to.

A few minutes later, Sherry and Erica entered the living room.

They had just returned from the short celebration due to Roland's victory, which was held in a restaurant not far from Thirteen's home.

Thirteen told everyone that he couldn't go because he was still busy dealing with matters concerning the tournament. Since this was a valid excuse, no one thought that he was just avoiding the celebration.

Roland, who had also regained consciousness, had a small bandage under his chin, which made him look funny.

Fortunately, he didn't have a recollection of what transpired after he lost consciousness, or else, he would be cursing Zion for taking jabs at him during his defenseless state.

"You should have gone to the party," Erica said as she sat on the couch across from the teenage boy, who was currently enjoying Shasha's massage.

Sherry sat beside Erica and looked at Shasha with great curiosity.

Seeing that Zion looked comfortable under her touch, she decided to ask Shasha later to teach her how to give shoulder massages as well.

"Unlike you happy-go-lucky people, I need to do some damage control because not many are happy with the outcome of the matches," Thirteen replied as he swiped on the tablet in his hand.

"What can they do if they lose?" Erica smirked. "Now that they are eliminated from the tournament, they can all just roll over to the side and cry."

Tiona gave Erica a pitiful gaze because the Sorceress wasn't aware that Thirteen planned to give the losers a second shot in the tournament.

Of course, he didn't plan to tell this to anyone.

At least not yet.

It was a surprise he intended to unravel on the Fourth Day of the Tournament after all the group matches had ended.

Suddenly, Thirteen's communicator gave a notification, making him glance at who sent him the message.

When his gaze landed on the name that sent the message, he knew that he had to reply to it as soon as possible.

**** n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Somewhere in the Rigel Continent…

A notification sound reached the ears of the Death Lord, who was sitting cross-legged inside his cave.

Erasmus had sent a message to Zion earlier, asking the latter if all the preparations were ready on his side.

Reading the reply Thirteen had sent him, the glowing flames in the Death Lord's eye sockets blazed brighter.

As if waiting for that moment, a purple portal appeared in front of him, and the God of the Apocalypse, Metatron, appeared on the other side of it.

"I just received Thirteen's message," Metatron said as he beckoned for Erasmus to enter the portal. "I hope that, with your presence, the doors of the Apocalypse will open sooner."

A faint smile appeared on Erasmus' face as he propped himself up and walked toward the portal.

"I don't know if the Apocalypse will come sooner or not," Erasmus stated. "But I do know of one thing."

"And that is?" Metatron asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Thirteen will do everything to achieve his goals," Erasmus answered. "He's even using me to achieve it."

A faint chuckle escaped Metatron's lips, showing that he didn't mind it.

He and his partner had the same goal in this lifetime.

Since the only one who had his absolute trust was Thirteen, he would do everything in his power to play his role.

He would enter the world of Solterra and prepare for the day when the teenage boy flipped the chessboard of Fate.

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