Chapter 39: The Competition Festival, Section 5

It must be said that the black-haired man’s disguise was far from successful. Though his appearance seemed flawless, his lack of knowledge about the Moor Empire’s customs often exposed him unintentionally. Fortunately, he had a very well-known nickname: “The Lucky One.” Indeed, in just a few months, he went from a mere merchant to a favorite in the presence of the Grand Duke of Tarot, became a fleet commander, and was granted noble status. Beck’s name had always been synonymous with luck in the Moor Empire’s rumors—and this time seemed no exception. Miss Veli’s doubts vanished in an instant, as her attention was drawn back to the upcoming Competition Festival.
A once-in-a-century event among the Moors, the Competition Festival was far more lively than anyone could imagine. Yet compared to its events, the latter seemed even more appealing. As Miss Veli had explained, the number of events in the Competition Festival was truly overwhelming—ranging from literary works and musical compositions to technological inventions and adventurous achievements in new fields. Almost every discipline from various civilizations was represented here. As long as participants had the necessary skills, they could find suitable competition rules within their area of expertise. Even a lowly miner could participate in mining competitions and earn recognition.
Seeing this, the black-haired man finally understood why the Moors placed such great importance on this festival. Such a large-scale and diverse array of competitions served as a powerful catalyst for the empire’s progress. Excellence in any field could lead to both fame and fortune through these contests—how could it not inspire enthusiasm? What was most admirable was the Moor Empire’s commitment to fairness, as it completely eliminated factors such as influence, status, and race from the competitions.
What did this mean? It meant that even a humble slave could stand tall here, just like the noblest Moorish aristocrats, creating and striving with their own hands. Here, status, race, and all forms of unfairness were ruled out by the Moorish authorities. There was no need to worry about being excluded or persecuted!

A nation that dares to admit its shortcomings and is willing to correct them. A nation that dares to learn from others’ strengths and takes pride in it. This is the definition Black Hair gave to the Moors. At the same time, he truly believed that the Moors truly deserved to be the rulers of the universe. Just this breadth of mind already surpassed any human hero!!

Embracing all things, only by being inclusive can one become great!! Just by observing the Moors’ competitive contests, one can see the source of their strength. No wonder every subject within the Moor Empire looks forward to these contests with longing.

Because these contests have transcended ordinary worldly perspectives and have reached a sacred status!!

Of course, it’s also due to the Moor Empire’s almost fanatical martial culture. So despite the many types of contests, what attracts the most attention are still the military-related events. Among them, individual combat and fleet command stand out particularly.

Individual combat is divided into two parts. As Xiget once explained, one is pure combat, and the other is the competition of piloting mechs, oh, self-propelled combat machines.

Fleet command comes in various forms. It is generally divided into local battles and large-scale campaigns, with an astonishing array of variations. In some cases, the empire sets the environment, enemies, and objectives of the war for the competitors to carry out. In others, it’s simply a direct competition between competitors, each commanding a fleet of equal size to determine a winner within a designated battlefield.

The rules are simple, yet straightforward. Under the empire’s control, cheating is absolutely impossible. After all, the Moors rose to power through these practices. They wouldn’t lose sight of their race’s future under the lure of money, like humans do.

But now, these simple choices have caused a slight conflict between Veri and Black Hair.

It’s precisely because of their simplicity that it’s so hard for them to decide.

According to Miss Veri, since Black Hair demonstrated strong personal combat skills in his fight against Xiget, he should participate in the individual combat contests to achieve a better ranking. But this suggestion was met with opposition from Black Hair.

Black Hair seems more interested in fleet command.

In his view, individual combat is indeed his strength, and achieving a good ranking isn’t too difficult. But it offers no benefit to his plans. After all, no matter how brave a warrior is, they remain just warriors. They can be brave commanders who charge into battle, but they can never become the strategists who control the overall situation.

But a fleet commander is completely different. As long as one can demonstrate outstanding command skills, they will receive far more attention than those who fight individually. After all, the Moors started with giant ships. The value of an excellent fleet commander far exceeds that of any warrior.
Unfortunately, his suggestions still seemed absurd in Miss Veli’s eyes. She couldn’t understand why Blackhair would abandon his greatest strength and pursue such a highly competitive field—something that clearly went against his family’s interests!
For the first time, tension arose between them. After five failed attempts at communication, Miss Veli even refused to see Blackhair again, keeping him completely out of her room.
“What an obstinate girl. It’s strange why everyone thinks she’s the best successor to the Grand Duke of Tarot.”
That was Blackhair’s sigh as he spoke to the monkey in his room, feeling somewhat helpless. This competition was a rare opportunity for him to enter the imperial elite. If Veli ruined it like this, he would never agree.
“Maybe she just wants to prove herself too much? Boss, don’t forget—before you showed up, that girl was always being excluded,” the monkey replied carelessly, laughing while fiddling with a small knife in his hand.
It was already the ninth day since they arrived in the Barbarian Star Region. The competition was just one day away, yet they still hadn’t chosen a category to compete in. Saying they weren’t anxious would be a lie. But getting into a serious conflict with Miss Veli was also something Blackhair didn’t want. So both sides kept holding onto their last lines of defense.
“Maybe,” Blackhair said helplessly, shaking his head again, frustrated by the girl’s mindset. “But I don’t have any more time to play around with her. Monkey, go now and register in my name. If Veli refuses to support us, our path ends here. I think this is probably what the other grand dukes would like to see.”
“Oh?” The monkey was stunned. “Boss, are you really decided? You must know what the consequences will be. Without the support of the Grand Duke of Tarot, those bloodthirsty lords will tear you apart.”
“Then it depends on whether they have the guts,” Blackhair sneered disdainfully. “Sometimes, respect has to be fought for. As long as I can win first place in fleet command this time, I doubt anyone will want to be my enemy!”

“First place?” The monkey grinned and laughed. “Sure enough, that’s what you had in mind. Alright, I’ll go right away.”
With that, the monkey flipped over and skillfully performed a somersault, leaping to the door. Just as he was about to leave, the door swung open on its own. Outside, Miss Veli stepped in with a pale face.
“I’ve made up my mind,” she said, ignoring the stunned expressions of the two people in the room. Her face was as stiff as iron.
“Since you, Beck, like to take on the most difficult tasks, I, Veli, can’t hold you back. Lord Beck, I hereby grant you full authority to represent the Grand Duke of Tarot and compete in any tournament you desire. As soon as you leave this room, you can sign up!”
“However, I must remind you one last time, Lord Beck. Fleet command is always the most competitive, hottest, and attention-grabbing event in these tournaments. Since you represent my father, you must not lose in the first round. Under any circumstances, you must make it to the quarterfinals. Otherwise, don’t blame me for not speaking up for you in front of my father.”
A silence fell over the room. Blackhair and the monkey both showed surprised expressions. They couldn’t understand why Veli had changed her mind at this final moment. But now, it was clear that Blackhair’s path would be much easier. Looking at Veli’s pale face, Blackhair suddenly smiled.
“Thank you, Miss Veli. You’re still the most understanding girl—my queen in my heart.”
Without answering, Veli stared coldly at Blackhair. After a long while, she finally snorted.
“Smooth talker. You’re still that eloquent gray merchant, Beck. I hope your skills in fleet command match your eloquence. I doubt I’ll be disappointed.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Blackhair smiled. He reached into his pocket and, when he pulled his hand out, there was a shiny red stone. He flipped it in his hand, and it glowed beautifully.
“Because I’m the lucky Beck, accompanied by the Goddess of Luck.”
Seeing the stone, Veli was stunned. The familiar color and pattern—she certainly recognized it. It was the gift she had given Blackhair at their first meeting, the key to the White Swan warship. She never expected Beck to still carry it all this time.
“Sigh…” The coldness on her face gradually melted away, and her expression became complex. After a long sigh, she glanced at the stone again.
“Beck, work hard. Don’t disappoint me or my father. Whether the Castle of Sighs shines or not depends on you.”

“As you wish, my queen.” The black-haired man laughed heartily and left the room…