CEO in a Fantasy World 4 Read online

  Caesar could visibly see the sadness in Renee's face turn into rage, though, it was understandable, no one would want to spend their few remaining days in the middle of a war, a losing war, to boot.

  Caesar tightened his arms and brought her into his firm and secure embrace, "don't worry darling, this clan will not fall while it is within my control, nor will the trolls escape my grasp" he comforted Renee while setting her on the bed, he pulled the covers over their bodies and soon, only the sound of breathing resounded throughout the room.

  Both Caesar and Renee were relatively silent, thinking about two different things. While Caesar was currently thinking about different ways to address the war with the trolls, such as a siege, or a battle of attrition. Renee was thinking about how, or why Caesar was attracted to her. He had no connection to the fox-kin. However, he was willing to do so much for them, this made her heart feel extraordinarily warm, and soon, they both drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  The next morning, a loud banging abruptly awoke both Caesar and Renee, causing them to get out of bed begrudgingly. Caesar stretched his arms and yawned lazily before strolling towards the door and opening it.

  Caesar, with his long white hair draping over his shoulders and his half-open crimson eyes, appeared in the doorway, somewhat shocking the maid. Though his presence in Renee's room had already been widespread amongst the maids, his beautiful appearance never ceased to amaze.

  The maid stood there, tongue-tied for a few moments before she finally got a hold of herself and bowed deeply, "sir, the tournament is being held in the next hour, the clan leader has requested your presence" she said respectfully and scurried away as if Caesar was some kind of scary monster.

  Caesar smiled wryly and closed the door, he turned around and faced Renee, who was still getting out of bed, her ears were curled, and eyes squinted, her expression looked similar to a cat just awakening from their slumber.

  Her sad expression from last night was nowhere to be seen, and it appeared as though she had contemplated a lot about Musashi last night, he didn't think, nor expect she was over it. However, she seemed considerably less depressed than she was last night. This, of course, made Caesar feel somewhat happy as well.

  Instead of interrupting her, he decided to head towards the bathroom and briefly groom himself. Although he was heading towards a tournament where he was more than likely going to get dirty, he still wanted to arrive looking presentable.

  He rinsed his body and brushed his hair, afterword, he dried his body with a soft towel and took out an intricate military outfit from his storage ring. Ever since he encountered that assassin, he never took his ring off, as it contained his weapon.

  The outfit he adorned had tight black trousers, military-esque shin-high boots, a white sleeved button up shirt covered by a black blazer with military badges placed over the right side of his chest. Coupled with a pair of slick, white gloves, and a black and red military cap with a golden emblem of an intertwined dragon above the bill of the hat.

  He looked in the mirror, and his outfit on top of his glowing red eyes, long white hair, and somewhat pale skin, made him look a highly trained military general, alas, this was, in fact, Caesar's desire. No one wanted to head into battle, looking elegant while wearing a suit.

  Caesar nodded in acceptance after seeing his appearance and stepped out of the bathroom and being greeted by Renee in a snow-white dress that reached her knees, her shoulders were somewhat uncovered, and her cleavage was just barely discernible. She looked a mix of conservative and bold at the same time.

  Seeing her beautiful appearance, Caesar nodded in approval. It looked much better than the kimonos she frequently adorned, "well, shall we head out?" Caesar asked while offering his hand towards Renee, to which she nodded her head with a broad smile and locked arms with him.

  And thus, they both marched to the training grounds where the tournament was being held, even they didn't know what waves were going to be created.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The well-dressed Caesar and Renee soon made their way to the training grounds. Although Renee wasn't participating, she was, after all, one of the main reasons why many of the fox-kin warriors joined the competition in the first place.

  As they approached the considerable square arena, estimated to be about 60 meters wide and 100 meters long. It was nearly the same size as a football field back on earth. However, this was just a rough estimate.

  There were many marked squares on the training grounds. The 'barriers' were made up of either small planks of wood or string. Caesar assumed they were indicating where the battles would take place.

  While still in the middle of his thoughts, both he and Renee soon arrived at the training grounds. Their fancy clothes and striking features made them, of course, stand out more than average. Renee's beauty, coupled with Caesar's breathtaking appearance, caused many heads to turn.

  With Renee's high status, word started to spread, and soon, almost everyone was looking over, including the clan heads. This, however, was in Caesar's expectations, and his expression didn't change in the slightest. Instead, he led Renee to where her grandfather, along with the clan heads, awaited.

  They were situated in the middle of the arena-esque training grounds. They were sitting around a tall and relatively large table. Caesar assumed the reason for this was so they could spectate whichever battle they wanted to.

  He brought Renee to the table, and she sat at the second-highest seat, to the right of Musashi. Once she was seated, Caesar didn't bother making conversation with the rest and turned away to go find Soka and Falthor.

  Caesar had ordered Soka and Falthor to head towards the furbolg clan last night. He was curious as to what transpired during that night. He repeatedly surveyed the surroundings using his superior senses until finally, after a few minutes of searching, he caught sight of both Falthor and Soka walking together.

  He didn't hesitate to quicken his pace and approach the both of them. As he was walking, he scrutinized them and couldn't see any outward injuries. This did raise his suspicions. However, it was possible that the furbolg clan wasn't getting attacked.

  Thinking to here, he soon arrived in front of both Soka and Falthor, who stopped dead in their tracks once they caught sight of him. Relief visibly filled their eyes once he appeared, and they bowed deeply.

  "Sir, we tried meeting you last night. However, you were not present in the meeting room," Falthor opened up first while straightening his back.

  Caesar nodded his head in response, "ah yes, I was busy training my body at the time…" he spoke truthfully and paused for a moment before continuing "did any problems arise at the furbolg clan?" he asked after a moment of hesitation.

  Hearing his question, Soka hesitated for a moment before answering… "when we arrived. The battle was already over. Bodies belonging to both the trolls and furbolg’s littered the ground, very few survivors remained," he replied with a somewhat downcast expression.

  This information caused Caesar to crease his brows and click his tongue, "where are the remaining survivors?" he asked.

  "Both me and Falthor secretly escorted them inside of the stronghold, they are currently residing next to the gnomes," Soka replied honestly.

  Caesar stroked his chin and looked east, the rain clouds were still forming and looked denser than ever, even now, he could smell the moisture in the air. He suddenly turned towards Soka, "tell Rakan to bring those two traitors, and also, I want you to scout the near troll stronghold, we need to know when and how they will attack,” he said before turning towards Falthor.

  "As for you, I need you to destroy the competition in the tournament, I need you to get a name for yourself and become respected," Caesar spoke briefly before turning around and heading towards the registration table.

  "Yes, sir!" they both shouted from behind Caesar and scrambled away to complete his orders.

  Their words, however, did not enter into his ears as he was amid deep contemplation, 'if t
hey already know that we are recruiting smaller clans, the chances of them attacking soon would be logical. I need to prepare…' he thought inwardly and soon arrived in front of the registration table.

  A young and cute looking maid with short brown hair was currently writing down numbers on a small squarish piece of paper. She handed a separate piece of paper to all warriors who wanted to participate, each document having a different number written on it.

  The line was relatively small as both Caesar and Renee arrived late, most of the warriors had already registered, and soon, it was his turn at the counter. The young maid, without even raising her eyes, handed Caesar a piece of paper that held the number 13 on it.

  "Thank you for registering, next!" she called out and starting writing yet another number on the paper.

  Caesar didn't dally for too long and walked away; he awaited the start of the tournament and was quite curious as to how it was organized. There were no microphones or speakers in this world, so organizing 500 or so people would be, in fact, difficult.

  That, of course, only applied if you were alone, if you have many organizers assisting you, the task becomes much easier. Thus, Caesar stood alone for about another hour or so, until finally, Musashi stood up from his chair.

  "Ahem," Musashi cleared his throat and presumably amplified the sound of his voice by some sort of magic.

  "As no more warriors are signing up, it is time to start the tournament. As you may have already heard from your respective clan head, there are two rewards at stake in this tournament. Not only will you gain fame and have the chance at becoming a clan head, but if you are to win, you will also be able to either challenge me for the position of clan head or take my granddaughter's hand in marriage. Both of which would immediately make you the next heir." Musashi reminded all of the warriors present and relit a fire in their eyes.

  "WHOAAAA!" a few fox-kin roared in excitement at his words, alas, after a few moments, Musashi raised his hand and silenced them.

  "Do not forget the rules, you are not allowed to use fatal attacks, nor are you allowed to use an edged blade unless you are confident in not injuring the opposing party. Thirdly, you may not use this tournament to settle personal grievances, that is all" Musashi roared from his large podium and sat back down on his chair.

  After a brief moment of silence, Faust stood up from his chair and cuffed his mouth, "numbers 401-500 report to the eastern side of the training grounds, 301-400 to the northern side, 201-300 to the southern side, 100-200 to western, and finally, 0-99 report to the middle of the training grounds.

  Caesar once again glanced at his paper, which possessed the number 13 and walked towards the middle of the training grounds. There were about ten prepared small wooden arenas already awaiting him in the middle, each having a number written on it.

  He inspected each piece of wood that had an assortment of numbers on it and assumed that the warriors numbered 1-20 were going to fight first. Thus, he found the small arena with the number 13 on it.

  He walked inside and once again waited until his opponent was ready, it appeared as though most of the fox-kin were confused while searching for the arena they were meant to fight in. He could see a few elite soldiers directing some lost souls, which further proved his theory that there were many organizers present.

  After waiting for another quarter of an hour, finally, his opponent stepped into the ring. He was relatively tall, standing at 6 feet, his muscles were bulging, and his face was clean-shaven. His hairline was receding, and overall, he looked like a strong middle-aged man.

  The middle-aged man looked left and right for a moment before setting his eyes on Caesar, "M-Mr strategist… are you, perhaps, my opponent?" he asked, hesitantly.

  Caesar nodded his head in response, "why yes, of course, I am, do you see anyone else in the ring?" Caesar asked with a chuckle.

  The middle-aged man gulped audibly and glanced at the approaching referee nervously. Once the referee arrived, he raised his hands in the air and shouted, "begin!"

  Many eyes were glued on to this particular arena as not only was Caesar present, but it was also the first fight in the tournament. However, they could only sigh in disappointment at the very next moment.

  "I SURRENDER!" the middle-aged man roared and ran away to hide his embarrassment… who could blame him? Nearly all of the elites had seen him singlehandedly take on the 13 clan heads, let alone a mere foot soldier like him. If he stayed, he was courting death!

  The man's loud outburst caused Caesar to smile wryly, he looked towards the referee and titled his head to the side, "am I that scary?" he asked.

  The referee, who was a young man, gravely inspected Caesar's outfit and piercing red eyes before nodded his head up and down. "Yes," he replied curtly.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Caesar stood in the small, squarish arena, alone. If he was to be perfectly honest, he was quite disappointed with his opponent's sudden surrender. One of the main reasons he wanted to join the tournament in the first place was to showcase his strength. However, it was posing to be more difficult than he had initially thought.

  The spectators that were looking forward to the match could only sigh in disappointment and shift their attention elsewhere. This development caused Caesar to furrow his brows in aggravation, alas, there was nothing he could do besides waiting for the next match.

  He sat cross-legged on the cold, stone floor and spectated the other matches. He had forgotten to ask for Falthor's number. Thus, he had to scan the entire training grounds to look for him. Thankfully, Falthor's appearance was relatively easy to spot, and soon, Caesar laid eyes on a very tall man with long, wavy black hair.

  He and another warrior were glaring at each other in the ring. His opponent was a thin man with short brown hair. He had a defined jawline and relatively sharp facial features. From a spectators point of view, it appeared as though the brown-haired man and Falthor knew each other.

  While Caesar was in the middle of these thoughts, Falthor rushed towards the man with what appeared to be an unmatched might. The ground cracked with every step he made, and his hair seemed to float in the air. Falthor closed the distance between him and the brown-haired man within a matter of a few seconds, and soon, he raised his right fist and struck towards the man's face.

  The brown-haired man, who still maintained a calm expression, ducked down and dodged the right hook by the width of a hair. However, Father wasn't finished yet, he lifted his left knee, and without even giving the man time to react, he blasted him out of the arena.

  Blood escaped from the brown-haired man's nose and mouth as he flew through the air. Loud cheers reverberated throughout the training grounds, and the referee raised Falthor's right hand in response.

  Seeing this, Caesar nodded his head in approval and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. Falthor was, indeed, doing as he had instructed, making his battles as flamboyant as possible. The only problem being that Caesar had nothing to do until his next fight.

  Caesar lazily swept his gaze across the training grounds and spectated a few boring fights to kill time. After waiting for about another half an hour, the second match was finally going to start, and Caesar's opponent slowly approached the small ring.

  He had greasy, long black hair, a long face, and loose looking clothes. The man had an absurdly long tongue that rested outside of his mouth, causing Caesar to furrow his brows in disgust. To top it all off, he wielded two steel daggers.

  The referee looked at the man's sharp weapons hesitantly, "are you positive you won't accidentally injure the opposing party?" the referee asked to which the man replied with a light chuckle.

  "Don't fret, I'm certain." He said while winking in Caesar's direction.

  The man entered into a well-trained fighting stance, placing one blade in front of the other while facing Caesar. If one looked closely, you would be able to faintly discern an almost inconspicuous liquid on the blades.

  This caused Caesar to smile, and without notifying th
e referee, Caesar also entered into a fighting stance. Instead of using a weapon, he just raised his fists. There was no need to wield his scythe.

  The referee glanced between Caesar and the wicked-looking man for a few moments before reluctantly raising his hands and roaring, "BEGIN!"

  Although the referee started the match, neither Caesar nor the sinister-looking man moved. Instead, the man curled his lips and started speaking. "I can hardly wait until I win this tournament, I'm going to marry that beautiful empress and pop out dozens of kids, hell, I won't even let her rest at night. Don't worry. I'm not a selfish person. I'll let you and some of my other buddies have a turn too," the man said with a loud laugh.

  Caesar's expression didn't contort in the slightest at the man's words. He knew that getting riled up would be playing right into his hands. Thus, instead of answering with words, he would respond with actions.