It took a small amount of time, using methods such as calling through the Terminal, teleporting to Jinzhou and then teleporting back to Septimont for verification, before Noah reached a conclusion.
The Septimont he arrived at through the door constructed by Encore's ability was the real Septimont.
This meant that Cristoforo's script had already overlapped with reality.
He did not see Cartethyia, because Cartethyia was on the previous page of the script. Cartethyia also could not find him, because he was on the next page of the script.
Even when he used Encore's ability to imagine a door that led directly beside Cartethyia and stepped through it, the area beside him remained empty.
It was not that Encore's ability had failed. He and Cartethyia were separated by a "page" of the script. Even if the two were close enough to touch, they could not see each other.
"As fellow fantasy-type abilities, Cristoforo dog's power is still overpowered."
There was only one way to break the deadlock now. Noah took out his Terminal and dialed Augusta's communication:
"Ephor Augusta!"
"Yes, Mr. Noah, what is the matter?"
"I hope you can accelerate the progress of the gladiatorial tournament and compress the entire schedule as much as possible. Name your conditions—as long as I can fulfill them."
As long as reality met the corresponding requirements inside the script, Cristoforo's script could cover reality ahead of time.
At that point, he could truly enter the script, deal with the Threnodian Leviathan, break the script, and rescue Cartethyia.
"The Grand Gladiatorial Tournament is held once every four years. Countless people of Septimont have honed their martial skills just to shine in this competition. Honor is more important to Septimont gladiators than life itself."
Augusta's steady voice came from the Terminal:
"In principle, compressing the schedule is not allowed. But—I agree to your request!"
"Thank you. As thanks, during the next high tide period of Septimont's hunting grounds, I will help Septimont overcome the difficulties together."
After those words, Augusta's voice on the other side of the Terminal carried a hint of a smile:
"Good. I will arrange it right now and do my utmost to compress the ten-day schedule to the shortest possible time."
After hanging up the Terminal, Augusta began to take action. Noah did not put away his Terminal but continued to call people:
"Shorrie, Shorrie!"
"Here."
Shorekeeper's projection appeared:
"How may I assist you?"
"Connect me to Shorekeeper."
"Connection established."
Shorrie paused for a moment before continuing:
"How may I assist you?"
"Is Buling at Black Shores? Or is she in Septimont?"
"She is working overtime at Black Shores."
"Have her come to Septimont to see me as quickly as possible. Thank you for the trouble."
"I will teleport her to Septimont within one minute. Please wait a moment."
Although she said one minute, in reality it was only a short twenty seconds. Buling, with light blue short hair pressed down by a headset and wearing a black vest, was teleported over.
Buling, who had been suddenly teleported, steadied herself and looked toward Noah, about to speak.
"Skip!"
...
Obtained item: Buling's Wonderful Eye Copper Mirror.
This mirror looked ordinary on the surface, but in reality it possessed a certain restraining effect against Cristoforo's script.
Through the mirror, one could unilaterally see through the obstruction of the script's "pages" and view events that had occurred on another page.
In the original plot, Rover used this mirror to learn about matters related to Mya. Now, Noah used this mirror to search all across Septimont for traces of Cartethyia.
Soon, he used the copper mirror to reflect two rapidly fleeing illusory figures. One was Cristoforo, and the other was "Avidius".
"As expected, this is Cristoforo's doing." Noah's expression sank, his voice full of killing intent:
"Cristoforo dog, you've truly lived long enough!"
In the illusory figures, Cristoforo urged while running:
"Think of a solution, say it already!"
"According to what you said, Imperator has already been revived, but in your script world, Fleurdelys cannot replenish the power that belongs to Imperator."
"Avidius"'s voice was extremely hoarse, his footwork no slower than Cristoforo's:
"And the most important thing inside Fleurdelys's body is the balance of power. If she uses the power I bestowed upon her for a long period, her imbalanced body will collapse on its own without attack."
Pondering Leviathan's words, Cristoforo finally understood:
"In other words, as long as we keep forcing her to take action, she will go berserk and suffer qi deviation on her own?"
"Correct!"
After receiving the affirmative answer, Cristoforo stopped running and regained his usual composure.
The script in his hand glowed. His body turned intangible as he turned to face Fleurdelys who was treading through the air. The corners of his mouth lifted:
"Your Holiness the Saintess, now—the roles of attacker and defender have been reversed."
Invisible power flowed out from the red script in his hand. One after another, Tacet Discords attached with Dark Tide and with ferocious appearances crawled out from the ground.
The Glory Lion Statue, polluted by Dark Tide until its entire body was pitch black, flew over from the sky and landed squarely in front of Fleurdelys, raising its sharp axe toward her.
The scene reflected by the copper mirror ended here.
"I didn't see Phrolova."
Noah breathed a slight sigh of relief.
If it was only Cristoforo and Leviathan, Cartethyia should be able to handle it.
Augusta had already promised to do her utmost to shorten the gladiatorial tournament process. In just a few days, the real gladiatorial tournament would reach its end.
In a few days, Noah believed Cartethyia could hold on.
But after these few days, whether Cristoforo could hold on would depend on his own fortune.
"I was still too lax."
Noah learned from the lesson and reflected on himself:
"I shouldn't have soaked in any bathhouse. I should have tried to speedrun faster. That way Phrolova wouldn't have escaped, and Cartethyia wouldn't have been lost."
On the other side.
The council hall.
"Ephor, we have compressed the schedule. Now not only are there competitions during the day, but we also have to hold all-night competitions. The arena is in use 24 hours without interruption."
"We changed the gladiatorial tournament from a points system to an elimination system, and we also canceled the right for teams to change teammates."
"Each team only has one chance to lose. After two losses, they will be completely eliminated, until the true champion who wins till the end is decided."
The person in charge of the gladiatorial tournament handed Augusta a schedule:
"The schedule has already been compressed to the shortest. From the original ten days, it has been compressed to only five days remaining."
Only compressed by five days?
Augusta frowned and carefully looked at the schedule, discovering that every day's events were truly packed full. Not even one more match could be squeezed in.
"No, the time is still too long!"
"But Ephor, it really cannot be compressed any further."
"Why can't it? The arena is so big. Can it only accommodate two teams fighting at a time?"
Picking up a pen, Augusta divided the circular arena into four equal parts:
"For the subsequent matches, eight teams can enter the arena each time. Go back and recalculate the time and number of sessions. Notify every team before dawn."
"This..."
The person in charge was dumbfounded on the spot:
"Ephor, this is something that has never happened before in Septimont. If we do this, wouldn't it be blaspheming the glory of the arena?"
"Glory exists in the heart, not in form. Just carry out this matter as I said."
Faced with questioning, Augusta's gaze turned cold:
"If any short-sighted nobles come looking for trouble, tell them to come talk to me directly. As for the senate, let them make noise as they wish. I can suppress it."
Hearing this, the person in charge could say nothing more and could only go down to arrange for people to recalculate the sessions and time.
In less than half an hour, they calculated the result.
"All the matches added together—the total schedule is one and a half days!"
"Are you crazy? With this arrangement, the underground casinos can open two hundred betting rounds in a single day. Those gamblers won't even have time to place all their bets, and it's only for one and a half days."
"The noble lords of Septimont are going to earn a lot less money now."
"Which class are you from? A commoner who doesn't feel bad for himself but feels bad for the nobles instead?"
"Compressing so many events means we ourselves will earn a lot less money too."
Thinking about how many shiny Shell Credits would fly out of their own wallets, the person in charge's eyes immediately turned red. He growled at his subordinates:
"Raise the arena ticket prices!"
"Raise them five times!"
"Sell them by the hour!"
...