173: Chapter 170 I Admit Defeat

[Iron-Faced Ruthless (Yanhuang): I'm going to say something unpleasant. Even if Fate Master started fighting right now—fifty-six minutes left, at his previous fastest speed, one second per match, plus one second for matching, he could win 1,800 matches at most. Adding the original 1,500 matches, that's 3,300 matches in total. Take a look at the current top ranking. 3,364 matches. 3,364 minus 3,300 is a positive or negative number, I don't think I need to teach you all basic arithmetic. But the problem is, Fate Master really can't match in one second every time, and finish every match in one second, that's asking too much. I feel like the chances of Fate Master reclaiming the top spot in the individual rankings are slim...]

"Then what if Fate Master only needs 0.5 seconds to end a battle! With Fate Master's strength, this is absolutely possible, wouldn't there be hope then?"

"Right! As long as Fate Master appears now, I believe there is definitely a chance!"

"The key is—will he appear or not!!!"

Fifty-three minutes.

Fifty minutes.

Every minute that passed on the Fate Platform, someone would re-sort Yang Hang's ranking.

Four million, two hundred thirty thousand, eight hundred twenty-one.

1,500 matches.

The ranking was still sliding, the number of matches remained unmoved.

[Fishing Light Song (Yanhuang): Everyone, I just flipped through all the System notifications, mail, and echo channels on the Fate Platform. There are no new messages from Fate Master. The last System message was still the life ring basic function debug notification from the sixteenth night. That was seven days ago.]

"No activity for seven days???"

"Could Fate Master have really gotten into trouble, or is he in secluded cultivation?"

"Secluded cultivation? What kind of cultivation are you doing on the Magic Sea?"

"What if he is actually Cultivating something? Too busy to fight the Sequence Battle?"

[Storm Eye (Yanhuang): Is Cultivating more important than the official rewards for the top ten in the individual Sequence Battle? Treasure chest quality upgrade, lifespan evolution, talent advancement—do you know what this means? This is given by the Magic Sea officials! Not from the Fate Platform, but rewards at the level of the Magic Sea world rules! Fate Master couldn't possibly not know how important this is.]

The comment section was silent for three seconds.

Then a post popped up.

[Old Wang Who Deceives Himself (Yanhuang): Let me make a bold guess—perhaps the Little Luck Technique Yang Hang ranked fourth is actually Fate Master's true ranking? That Yang Hang who dropped to over four millionth place is the real Little Luck Technique? Maybe their identities are actually swapped?]

This post received 0.3 seconds of attention.

Then it was smashed back down by a screen recording screenshot.

[Nail Householder Chen (Yanhuang): @Old Wang Who Deceives Himself, wake up, brother. I've been recording the ranking changes of Fate Master Yang Hang from the seventeenth day. Let me show you—Day 17: 1st place, 1,500 matches. Day 18: 1st place, 1,500 matches. Day 19: 1,387th place, 1,500 matches. Day 20: 37,891st place, 1,500 matches. Day 21: 381,467th place, 1,500 matches. Day 22: 2,193,847th place, 1,500 matches. Day 23, right now: 4,230,821st place, 1,500 matches. Full recording, ID confirmed, no possibility of confusion. It is Fate Master Yang Hang himself. 1,500 matches. Unmoving. Six days.]

The moment the screen recording evidence was posted, the last bit of room for self-deception was blocked off.

The comment section was filled with long sighs.

"Sigh—"

"I accept it. Fate Master really isn't fighting this time."

"What on earth is going on..."

Forty-five minutes.

The battle for the top ten was white-hot to the extreme.

Hans Weber 3,373, Victoria 3,343, Zheng Yuanshan 3,341—every time it refreshed, the numbers jumped.

The gap was constantly narrowing.

Victoria and Zheng Yuanshan were biting tightly, the gap with Hans shrank from thirty-six matches to thirty matches. President Shen Qing, Zhang Haotian, and Solomon followed closely behind, the gap between the second and tenth place was no more than seventy matches.

Every minute, the rankings changed.

Lin Ke rushed from eleventh to ninth, only to be pushed back by Jackson.

Park Jun-ho dashed from fifteenth to twelfth, with Fritz biting tightly.

Jack jumped from eighteenth to fourteenth.

The entire top one hundred was churning crazily.

But the eyes of all Yanhuang Survivors still drifted towards that number from time to time.

1,500.

Four millionth plus place.

Ranking dropped again, the win count remained unmoved.

Unmoving.

Forty minutes.

[Worried Old Chen (Yanhuang): Forty minutes left, I won't speak anymore, I'll just wait here. What if—what if Fate Master suddenly comes online at this moment?]

"I'll wait too."

"Wait."

"+1"

"+1"

Thirty-five minutes.

1,500.

The air was suffocating.

The posting speed in the Symphony Realm slowed down instead. It wasn't that no one was speaking, it was that they couldn't post. All comforting words had been said, all analytical angles had been exhausted.

All that remained was to wait.

Thirty minutes.

[Fishing Light Song (Yanhuang): Half an hour left. Still 1,500. I'm going to make a judgment I don't want to make—Fate Master has a high probability of not participating in the battle.]

Under this post, no one refuted.

Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen seconds.

Then some new voices slowly emerged in the comment section.

"I know everyone is waiting for Fate Master. But... shouldn't we also look at the other brothers and sisters on the leaderboard?"

"Old Man Zheng has been fighting with his life these past few days, he's over sixty years old, and now he's ranked third."

"President Shen Qing is also in the top ten, and Zhang Haotian is too. Little Luck Technique Yang Hang is also there."

"Right. Even if Fate Master has something to do and can't fight, these people are also our Yanhuang."

[Storm Trooper (Yanhuang): I'm going to say something that might get me scolded. Fate Master really hasn't fought individual battles for six consecutive days, we don't know the reason. But regardless of the reason, in the last thirty minutes, time is already insufficient, miracles cannot happen, let's give our support to those who are fighting hard on the battlefield. Chief Zheng Yuanshan is still thirty-something matches away from the top spot, and President Shen Qing and Chief Zhang also have a chance. Thirty minutes, there is still a chance for a comeback, everyone don't be too discouraged.]

The number of replies to this post exceeded ten thousand within three seconds.

"Well said!"

"We still have a chance, Yanhuang is still here!"

"Charge, Old Man Zheng! Charge, President Shen Qing! Charge, Instructor Zhang!"

"Thirty minutes, enough! I believe in them!"

The post was frantically reposted, cited, screenshotted, and spread throughout the entire Symphony Realm.

The attention of the Yanhuang Survivors moved with difficulty, bit by bit, away from that motionless "1,500".

It turned to Zheng Yuanshan.

It turned to President Shen Qing.

It turned to Zhang Haotian.

It turned to those names still fighting desperately on the battlefield.

Meanwhile, in another corner of the screen, Victoria, who had just finished a battle, immediately started another one.

Three seconds.

Match successful.

Her consciousness was once again pulled into the consciousness battle space of the Sequence War.

A boundless black ocean.

There were no two suns in the sky, only a cold white light source hanging directly above, illuminating the battle sea surface into a deathly pale color.

The wind and waves were huge, the roaring wind whipped up waves several meters high.

The rules were simple—one side dies, the other side wins.

Victoria stepped on her Silver Grade Houseboat, not far away was a young man with a similarly Silver Grade Houseboat.

In his early twenties, slightly curly brown hair, holding a round shield half a person tall, the shield surface shimmering with sea-blue water ripples. His stature was not tall, but his standing posture was as standard as if he had been trained.

Victoria's right hand had already rested on the hilt of the sword of the sea at her waist, ready to go.

Oliver Bennett opposite did not raise his shield.

He recognized Victoria at first sight.

He stood in place, the round shield hanging by his side, his lips moved a few times, the expression on his face changed from shock to excitement, and then from excitement to some kind of conflict.

"You, you are Saintess Victoria..."

His voice was nervous with excitement, "I am also from the Fog City Camp, my name is Oliver Bennett, 21 years old. My weapon is the Silver Grade Tidal Shield."

"I am not any Saintess, just a lucky Fog City Survivor." Victoria said seriously, "Time is precious, let's begin."

Oliver didn't move. His Adam's apple rolled, as if he had gathered great courage.

"Saintess, listen to me, I... I know you are currently rushing for the top spot. The time for every match is very precious."

He took a deep breath.

"So I concede."

Victoria's hand drawing the sword stopped.

"This victory is given directly to you." After Oliver finished this sentence, he felt relieved, as if he had unloaded a burden, "You are the Saintess of Fog City, you are everyone's—"

"Shut up."