“You’re not worth my swing,” Maxwell said, tone colder than moonlight. “Send out whoever passes for your strongest.”
A faint, icy smile traced his lips, as though he were watching a child’s tantrum. “What did you say?” Maximilian’s veins bulged. “You’re courting death!”
He gripped the axe. A brutal aura billowed from his frame, dark and heavy as iron fog. Black mist erupted around him, condensing into jagged armor that clacked into place over muscle and bone.
Sky and earth dimmed. Clouds rolled like bruises across the heavens. Even Onneas and the others felt their brows draw tight, the weight of that aura pressing on rib and lung.
Maxwell exhaled a single, bored breath. “That’s it? A toddler would be fiercer.”
To him, Maximilian’s full power looked like a wooden sword waved by a child.
Laughter rippled through the onlookers, sharp and derisive. Enaricus laughed so hard tears glazed his eyes.
“Are you blind? Maximilian Stonehelm ranks among the best on level seven, yet you call him weaker than a toddler?” Enaricus wheezed between guffaws.
Maxwell’s glance cut across the distance. “You serve the Celestial Palace?”
“Exactly. I am the Third Hall Lord. Frightened yet?”
Maxwell sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “When did the Celestial Palace sink so low? Even rubbish can claim a hall now, such a pity…”
The regret in his eyes felt almost paternal, as though watching a favorite student squander promise.
Enaricus froze, then exploded. “Who the hell are you to mock me, mock the Palace?!”
“You’ll learn my name soon enough,” Maxwell murmured, voice soft as falling ash, and twice as final.
Maxwell tipped his chin toward the Fiend-Titan Sect’s hulking leader. “You get exactly one strike. Make it count.”
Maximilian blinked, his brows knitting above small, startled eyes. “What are you talking about?!”
“Just what the words say,” Maxwell replied, a cool smile flickering across his mouth.
From the rear of the crowd, Jared watched Maxwell soak up the spotlight, envy burning like acid in his gut.
I have to climb faster. The stronger I become, the more chances I’ll have to shine like that…
Maximilian snorted. “Hmph! I’ll even give you three strikes, and you’d better know those are the only three you’ll see.”
With that, the giant lowered his Mountain-Cleaving Axe, arrogance rolling off him like heat from a forge.
Under his breath, Jared muttered, “Idiot…”
Maxwell sighed. “Now you don’t even have the one I offered.”
A gentle breath escaped Maxwell’s lips as steel whispered from its sheath.
Swish!
An almost lazy sound, gone as soon as it arrived.
No one saw the blade move. The titan simply toppled. While the corpse fell, his flesh burst apart, scattering in a grisly spray of crimson shards.
That casual slash had not been one sword stroke but a storm of blades, each cut precise enough to carve the monster into morsels before his knees touched dirt.
Every spectator gaped at the butchered remains, frozen in disbelief.
An immense hush pressed on the field until the air felt thin, one could have heard a pin drop.
Beads of sweat slid down Enaricus’ forehead, gathering at his jaw before falling like tiny, terrified tears.
Maxwell shook his head, almost rueful. He had offered the man a single chance, it was a pity the fool refused.
Esorin stared at the scattered flesh, the weight of the moment darkening his face. Still, pride kept his spine stiff. The Malevolent Path Hall stood at his back, and that was no small shield.
“So that explains your audacity, Jared,” Esorin scoffed, voice slick with sarcasm. “You brought muscle. But do you truly believe one swordsman can face the might of the entire Malevolent Path Hall?”
Jared gave the elder a single, dismissive glance and said nothing.
Well… Another clown who has no idea whom he’s provoking…
Maxwell’s gaze slid to Esorin, a faint grin curled. “The Malevolent Path Hall? They’re nothing.”
He had once founded the Celestial Palace, a bastion that shook continents. Years of decline did not erase the blood in his veins.
Esorin’s brow tightened, he had not expected so brazen an insult.
