"Nice to meet you, brother. Please go all out in our fight and don't hold back."
In the vast arena, the young girl with dark green hair gazed across at the young man opposite her, a light smile on her face, as if to put him at ease.
"You're just a fifth-rank Star Armor user, aren't you? Not holding back at that level might be... a bit risky." Muria smiled back at the girl who was only a head shorter than him.
"I heard you're only a fourth-rank Star Armor user yourself," she replied, her expression growing serious. "Is your martial skill really strong enough to compete with me?"
"Brother, my Star Armor is called 'Sky Cloud.' It's custom-made for me by the family and is far superior to any mid-grade Star Armor you might have encountered."
"Well then, I look forward to seeing it in action. And don't worry about me holding back—if you have the strength, I'll respond with everything I have."
"Are you really that confident, brother? Have you not considered the possibility of losing?"
"I was born three years before you. If I can't keep ahead of you with a three-year head start, then I'd be a disgrace as a brother," Muria replied.
In his true form, Muria was a being on par with deities, possessing divine insight. Reincarnated, with three extra years to hone his skills, if he couldn't defeat a local talent, he might as well smash his head against a wall.
"Since you're so confident, let's begin!" Desilee raised her hand, and a bracelet on her wrist began to emit a brilliant light. One by one, pieces of armor appeared, quickly attaching to her form-fitting suit.
In less than three seconds, Desilee stood clad in a Star Armor of white and purplish-red hues. The bulky armor increased her height to over two meters, while six floating Star Armor drones hovered around her. She also wielded a nearly two-meter-long gun charged with visible energy, radiating an aura that made one's heart race.
As Desilee prepared, a pure white aura enveloped Muria, lifting him gently into the air. His vast martial energy swirled around him, attempting to take shape. However, each time it coalesced into a rough outline, it quickly collapsed, as if something were still missing.
...
"He's manifesting his aura into form… remarkable. The boy's talent is truly frightening, especially in this era where martial arts have withered away," an elderly, stooped man muttered as he appeared in the stands, his eyes filled with interest as he watched Muria.
"I remember seeing him just three days ago, and he hadn't reached this stage yet. Now, he's already broken through. His progress is terrifying! Truly a little monster."
"Lord Long!" Several stewards immediately lowered their heads upon seeing the elder, who had once again come to the arena because of Muria. This man held a position so esteemed within the family that even the family head would bow in respect.
"How did he manage to cultivate so far, all on his own? It's hard to believe," the elder murmured in admiration, his previously dim eyes brightening.
"Lord Long, would you consider giving him a bit of guidance?" Steward Paes asked cautiously, his eyes lighting up with hope.
Paes knew a bit of the elder's background. Although he appeared to be a carefree old man, sunbathing in the estate every day, this elder was a living relic from a bygone martial era.
"No, no. I'm too old and lazy for that. I don't have much time left, so I'd rather spend it quietly, enjoying the sun," the elder chuckled, politely declining.
"That's a shame. Without guidance, Jeros's martial potential might go to waste. Apart from resources, a good teacher is essential in martial cultivation." Paes couldn't hide his disappointment. As Muria demonstrated greater strength, his standing in the family continued to rise.
Low-rank martial artists meant little to the Douglas family, but a high-rank martial artist was an entirely different matter. A potential Martial Emperor was someone worth the family's full support—a figure who could ensure the family's lasting prosperity.
"Who says he lacks guidance?" the elder replied with a smile. "Besides, I'm hardly qualified to teach a talent like him. Five hundred years ago, when I began my martial training, my own teacher called me the least talented of his students."
"Your teacher was mistaken. After all, you've lived to this age," another steward flattered him.
"No, he wasn't wrong. All my fellow disciples were far more gifted," the elder sighed, a hint of sadness crossing his face. "I only survived because I was too weak. If they were still here, each of them would be stronger than I am now."
The stewards exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond. Although elderly themselves, none of them were even a century old, and in comparison to this elder, they were mere children.
Three hundred years ago, a catastrophe destroyed the age of martial artists, wiping it from history. Many details of that era had been lost or become taboo.
"Back to sunbathing for me. I'll just wait for the end of my days," the elder said, disappearing before the stewards.
...
"Brother, put on your Star Armor!" Desilee's armored form rang with the clink of chains. Three chains extended from her wrists and encircled her body, while diamond-shaped crystals floated around her.
"I'll wear it if necessary," Muria replied, glancing at his sister's fully equipped battle gear. As a Star Armor user with metal control, even a first-rank user could mimic a swordmaster.
With sufficient rank and compatibility, a Star Armor user could even control a thousand swords simultaneously, but managing so many weapons required incredible mental calculations. Otherwise, one might accidentally hit oneself.
Clang! A sword over a meter long appeared before Muria, and as he gripped it, arcs of sword energy radiated from the blade, leaving clear cuts in the ground around him.
Swish! Swish!
The moment Muria took hold of his sword, Desilee launched her attack, though she refrained from using her gun, opting to wield her nearby weapons against him.
Chains with spear-tipped ends shot toward Muria, while razor-sharp diamond-shaped metal shards flew at him. Under Desilee's control, these seemingly inconspicuous metal fragments hurtled toward Muria at high speeds, whistling through the air as if to pierce him through.
"A clever little girl!" Muria chuckled. For a Star Armor user, this kind of attack required minimal energy expenditure, costing mostly the user's stamina.
"But endurance is my forte. Trying to exhaust my energy with this tactic won't work."
Gripping his sword, Muria countered with swift strikes, deflecting the incoming weapons with waves of sword energy.
After fending off Desilee's initial assault, Muria didn't linger in place. He surged forward like a beam of white light, closing the distance to his sister for close combat—a martial artist's specialty.
Seeing him charge, Desilee remained calm, commanding her armor to create more distance while her floating drones fired to impede his approach.
But with the arena's setup, Muria and Desilee were separated by less than three hundred meters—a distance he closed in an instant.
"Surrender, sister. This close, you've already lost!" he shouted, mere thirty meters away.
"You haven't destroyed a single piece of my Star Armor equipment yet. How could that count as a loss?" Desilee replied coolly. To her, the fight was just beginning; even in close range, she still had ways to fight back.
"If you won't surrender, don't cry out in pain when I start hitting you." Muria brushed aside a laser beam and deflected a diamond-shaped projectile with his sword.
"Don't underestimate me, brother. My compatibility rate is 20% higher than yours," Desilee said in a slightly agitated tone. Since the match began, she had sensed her brother's dismissive attitude and found it frustrating.
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