Pillar of Yita

They are not the most outstanding group; because those who shaped the dynasty have long departed, one might say they are not qualified inheritors.

Odin thought of Ragnarok’s previous chairman, and couldn’t help feeling a bit ashamed. Personally, he hadn’t disgraced Ragnarok, and his achievements were not below the previous chairman.

But as a chairman, he fell far short.

During the domestic tournament’s peak period, there were once six Ten Kings, six spots in the world tournament, and among them, three ranked top three in the world, holding a significant advantage.

But now, only two remain. Ye Hua is still relatively young, but he himself is about to leave. After his departure, the domestic tournament area would only have one Ten King left—a level almost as low as the weakest Central Asian and North African tournament areas.

It’s ”almost” because there’s still an advantage in middle and lower-tier strength.

But with such results, how could they face the predecessors of the previous generation?

Odin was lost in thought for a while before speaking: ”Loofah has also entered the Hall of Thousand Doors. I can’t really explain to you what that place is; if you want to become a top Alchemist, it is an essential process.”

Fang Hong seemed a bit surprised, having hardly ever heard of such a thing.

Odin wasn’t surprised at his reaction: ”Most people have little chance to hear of these things, because the Tower Guard won’t easily open the Hall of Thousand Doors unless the price is steep.”

”...So only the Grand Guild and the military have the capacity to achieve this. Loofah took the path of the Rose Cross Army back then, with Nether providing a guarantee, and her subsequent performance lived up to the expectations of those who favored her then.”

Fang Hong finally understood the meaning behind the previous conversation at the door with Anluose. He hesitated and couldn’t help but ask: ”Mr. Odin, do you plan to let me enter the Hall of Thousand Doors...?”

Odin tossed a silver leaf in front of him—the token to enter the Hall of Thousand Doors—but continued answering: ”You are not qualified enough—”

Seeing Fang Hong pick up the leaf, this King of Warriors replied: ”I am not an Alchemist and have never entered the Hall of Thousand Doors. All I know is that the place is located at Summer’s End Tower—in the west here, deep within the Brown-Red Forest. It’s one of the most legendary places in the Southern Region. There are a thousand doors within the Hall of Thousand Doors, but how many can be opened depends on each person’s capability.”

He continued: ”Being able to enter the Hall of Thousand Doors requires Alchemists to open at least thirty doors; if they can’t open thirty doors, it means they haven’t even reached the threshold.” He looked at Fang Hong and said: ”If you can enter it, it means I haven’t misjudged you, but if you can’t, consider it as a reward for the Fenris affair.”

Odin seemed to recall something, let out a slow sigh: ”Years ago, the Tower Guard here owed me a favor, promising to do two things for me, and these two opportunities I used on the Hall of Thousand Doors. Even if it fails, the lives of Fenris’ one hundred thousand people justify that favor.”

Fang Hong held the silver leaf, momentarily lost in thought.

He asked blankly: ”Then how many doors did Loofah open back in the day?”

”Apart from Nether, Loofah never told anyone. But I don’t think it’s a small number; I’ve heard from Nether that no one in the guild’s history has reached that number—including herself.”

”Of course, Nether isn’t actually much,” Odin replied, ”after all, their guild has had two Craftsman Ten Kings in history.”

To call Queen Nether ”not much,” in the domestic arena, probably only this King of Warriors had such authority.

But at this moment, Fang Hong’s mind was entirely elsewhere. After hearing Odin’s words, he grew even more curious about the Hall of Thousand Doors, and just asked: ”So Mr. Odin, your guild’s history should have records too, right?”

”Two hundred and thirty doors.” Odin answered concisely.

Fang Hong thought for a moment, feeling that although he wasn’t comparable to Loofah, at least he shouldn’t fail to open thirty doors.

His thoughts were clearly written on his face, and Odin sneered at him, shaking his head: ”Don’t get your hopes up. At your current level, I find it difficult for you to open the first thirty doors—”

He paused: ”This is one of the ultimate trials for Combat Artisans, not to mention the Invoker; historically, few Natives have participated in this trial, almost none unknown, some having achieved fame even before entering the Hall of Thousand Doors.”

”Take Loofah for example; when she entered the Hall of Thousand Doors, she was one of several newcomers favored by major guilds,” Odin lifted his head: ”What about you?”

”Taking a sip of Elf Liquor and you’ll sleep for a whole day—”

Fang Hong blushed, couldn’t help but cough. But what does this have to do with Elf Liquor? Except for Dwarves—most Combat Artisans don’t drink due to its effect on calculative power. As for Dwarves, it’s because these underground dwellers often double as miners and warriors.

When these rigid folks really drink too much, they roll up sleeves, grab their combat axes, and straight into a melee.

After coughing, he asked: ”But in that case, Mr. Odin, why did you bring me here?”

”Didn’t I just say?” Odin answered, ”Mainly because of the Fenris affair—and also, your combat power is somewhat unbearable, yet there’s still a bit of potential, not completely hopeless.”

Fang Hong appeared dejected, thinking was he that bad? Coming from the Elf Ruins, especially after the Traveler’s Rest journey, he always felt he was barely teachable.