"Tell Lady Mila what's happening here!" Felix Bradley, head of the institute, barked at Brown Bradley beside him. Brown gave a curt nod and urgently dispatched a guard.
On the stage, silence reigned. Caesar leveled his halberd at Remus and uttered a single word.
"Come."
The word snapped Remus back to reality.
"You… do you think reaching the eighth level makes you my equal? The energy level is not everything! You advanced too quickly—you clearly lack real combat experience. Against me, even at the sixth level, you should stand no chance!"
"Come and test those words," Caesar replied flatly.
"You're overestimating yourself! Brother Remus, leave him to me—I'll grind his face into the stage!" one of the youths in the group burst out, unable to contain himself.
"Go then. Kill that brat for me," Remus sneered, patting his shoulder.
The youth vaulted onto the stage with a flourish. "If I don't finish you within five attacks, I'll throw away my great name—Bori!"
"I don't care about your name," Caesar said, voice calm but eyes gleaming. "But I'll stake my life in the contract. If I win, you'll owe me five thousand gold coins. Do you dare?" He smirked inwardly. Easy money delivering itself to my doorstep.
Bori hesitated for only a few seconds before answering, "Agreed."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Five thousand gold coins—a fortune, even for noble bloodlines.
The referee quickly inscribed the wager into the contract, had both parties sign in front of everyone, then leapt clear of the stage. "Begin!"
Caesar's face twisted into a cruel smile. He let his aura pour out like a tide. "Come, my precious five thousand gold coins. Show me how you'll defeat me in five strikes."
Bori stiffened. For a moment it felt as though Caesar's frame swelled, his presence towering. He was no longer a boy but a lion, and Bori no more than a rabbit before him. The killing aura—sharpened by twenty-six years of survival among beasts—stabbed straight into his heart.
He cursed himself for stepping up first, but with no retreat left, he roared and charged, broadsword thrust forward.
"Hmph." Caesar's snort carried the weight of contempt. He raised his halberd with one hand, waiting until Bori crossed into range.
BOOOOOOM.
A flash of white split the air as the halberd descended. In a single instant, the blade sheared Bori's broadsword clean in half, then bit five centimeters into the stone floor, leaving charred scorch marks along the edges of the gash.
Before Bori even realized what had happened, Caesar's fist slammed into his nose, crushing his face inward and sending him hurtling off the stage.
Silence. Absolute silence.
This wasn't a duel of equals—it was a predator toying with prey.
And that halberd strike—white flame still licking at the ruined stage—etched itself into every spectator's mind.
"Hehe… so this is the power a perfect Major Heavenly Law carries." Robin chuckled under his breath, while Peon stared wide-eyed, as though seeing a god descend to earth. I've been living under the same roof as this monster…?
From start to finish, Caesar hadn't moved from his spot. It had ended in a single second. He reset the halberd upright at his side and spoke softly.
"Who's next?"
This time, there was no mockery from Remus's group—only fear. This wasn't the fight they had imagined. They were supposed to be the predators, not the prey.
Their plan had been simple: humiliate Caesar in front of everyone, let Mila appear at the peak of drama, then use the chance to approach her. And if she didn't show? Kill the boy and erase the stain of his "lie."
But now? Did Caesar even need Mila to appear?
Damn it. Retreating from someone two levels lower and years younger? I'd never raise my head again. Remus clenched his teeth, forcing himself to calm. Even if he's strong, he can't possibly leap two whole levels to fight me.
He knew no one else from his group would step forward again. To waste more pawns was to lose more face. So he leapt onto the stage himself.
"I admit—you're strong. Out of respect, I don't intend to kill or cripple you anymore. Let's make this a friendly duel between rivals."
"Rivals? You think too highly of yourself." Caesar shook his head.
Remus's jaw tightened. "Don't push me too far! I won't sign a contract permitting death or crippling. Anything else is negotiable."
"…So anything short of killing or maiming is fair game? Fine. Let's sign it word for word."
Remus's stomach turned cold. It was a trap, but one he had no choice but to walk into. He signed.
"Begin!" the referee barked.
"Hyaaa!" Remus lunged, broadsword flashing. Caesar shifted into a more serious stance, meeting the strike head-on.
"Wait… aren't those the basic halberd forms from the library handbook?" a professor muttered. His words drew others' attention.
When they saw it was true, sighs spread through the stands. The boy was using the cheapest, most common halberd techniques—movements anyone could purchase with coin.
How could such trash contend against a noble's heir?
The duel stretched to a full minute. Blades clashed a hundred times, yet neither side gained ground. For Remus, this alone was a victory—he had not been crushed instantly like Bori. Laughing, he roared, "Haha! You're better than I thought. But this ends now! I haven't even used my secondary Law yet. Once I do, the fight is mine!"
He retreated, closed his eyes, and sparks began to dance across his broadsword.
"It's the Secondary Heavenly Law—Fire Shards! The newest, most coveted law discovered by His Majesty himself!" an onlooker cried. "Marcus Rufus truly dotes on his son."
Excitement rippled through the crowd as crimson fragments multiplied around Remus's sword, heat washing over the arena.
When his preparation was complete, Remus opened his eyes and laughed. "You let me finish condensing it? Are you overconfident, or just an idiot?"
"Neither," Caesar answered coolly. "I just don't want anyone saying I bullied you when I unleash my own Law."