Journey to Become the Zenith

A Warning That Cannot Be Ignored

"...I suppose," he said, reaching for the drink, "it would be rude not to."

Victor smirked faintly.

"Now that sounds better."

For a brief moment, the tension between them loosened—not vanished, not forgotten—but shifted into something quieter, more controlled. The kind of tension that didn’t explode... but waited.

Victor watched Shawn lift the mug, the way his movements remained disciplined even in something as simple as drinking. It reminded him of something distant. Old.

Very old.

Just like them...

There was a flicker in Victor’s gaze, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

Men like Shawn—

He had seen countless of them before.

Commanders.

Generals.

Men who stood at the peak of human pride and discipline.

Men who carried both honor and calculation in the same breath.

For a moment—

Victor almost laughed.

Instead, a faint smile formed.

Back then... they would’ve died before bowing like this.

It stayed on his mind, yet he shoved it away.

Buried too deep, some truths just fade away on their own.

A piece of meat went into his mouth, chewed without rush, silence filling the space between bites.

"I can see your sincerity," Victor said, his tone calm but carrying a faint edge beneath it. "But what will you do... if I don’t want to forgive you?"

A slight tilt of his head brought those gold-flecked eyes straight to Shawn.

"If apologizing was enough for things like this... the world would’ve been a much more peaceful place."

Silence.

Laughter spilled through the room, voices rose and fell, glasses tapped now and then - yet none of it reached them quite right. Sound existed elsewhere, muffled, as if behind glass.

Now Shawn lifted his face all the way, eyes locking with Victor’s, steady.

"What is it you want, then?"

Just as Victor opened his mouth, the barmaid reappeared, sliding dishes onto the wooden surface. Heat rose from the plates, carrying a deep aroma of seared meat that wrapped around them fast.

Victor didn’t waste time.

He reached forward and started eating.

Not slowly.

Not politely.

Hungry.

For the past few days, he hadn’t had a proper meal, and it showed. He tore into the food without restraint, movements efficient but completely lacking in what most would call manners.

Shawn watched.

And for a brief second—

His expression shifted.

No table manners at all...

The thought came naturally.

But he didn’t say it.

Instead, he took a sip of his drink, eyes still occasionally drifting toward Victor.

After a few moments, Victor spoke again—mouth no longer full, but still focused more on eating than conversation.

"You should eat too," he said casually. "Since you’re the one paying for this."

Shawn shook his head slightly.

"It’s alright. Eat as much as you want. I don’t need to eat right now."

Victor shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

And just like that—

He went back to eating.

The conversation paused.

But it didn’t feel empty.

Shawn sat there, watching.

Not just Victor’s actions—but everything around him.

The way people avoided getting too close.

The way no one dared interrupt.

The way the space around this one man felt... different.

He doesn’t even realize it...

Or maybe—

He does.

Time passed quietly.

Minutes.

Marked only by the gradual disappearance of food from the table.

Then—

Victor stood up.

Just like that.

No warning.

No signal.

Shawn blinked slightly, caught off guard by the sudden movement. He immediately stood as well, his brows furrowing.

"Huh... is that it?" he asked. "Aren’t you going to ask for something more?"

Victor paused.

Then turned slightly.

"No need," he said simply.

His voice wasn’t loud.

But it carried.

"The actions of your brother were nothing more than a dog trying to bite more than it could chew."

There was no emotion in those words.

Just truth.

"Things like that mean nothing to me," Victor continued. "It didn’t even serve as a proper warm-up."

Shawn’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Not in anger—

But in realization.

"His scheming was also subpar," Victor added, almost dismissively. "He couldn’t even push Videl into a corner... much less me."

A brief pause.

Then—

"And your men didn’t do anything wrong."

That—

Shawn didn’t expect.

"Your lieutenant was actually pretty good," Victor went on, his tone shifting slightly—not praise, but acknowledgment. "He managed to make me use two new techniques I just learned."

That line stayed.

It lingered.

Because it wasn’t mockery.

It was evaluation.

" So all in all," Victor finished, glancing briefly at the empty plates, "the meal you paid for... is more than enough."

Silence.

Shawn slowly sat back down.

"I see."

There was relief in that breath.

Subtle.

But real.

Victor turned fully now, ready to leave—

Then stopped.

"Oh, one more thing."

Shawn’s body tensed slightly.

Victor’s gaze met his again.

And this time—

Something changed.

"I’ve forgiven you... for now."

The words were calm.

But heavy.

"But next time..." Victor continued, his voice lowering just enough to carry weight, "if you try to provoke me—whether it’s your brother... yourself... or anyone from your family..."

It came.

Not slowly.

Not gradually.

All at once.

An overwhelming pressure descended.

Invisible.

Silent.

But absolute.

Shawn’s breath caught.

His body froze.

It felt like something was pressing down on him—something vast, something beyond comprehension. Not killing intent. Not mana.

Something else.

Something that didn’t belong to this world.

His legs trembled slightly under the weight.

His chest tightened.

But no one else reacted.

The bar continued as it always had.

Laughing.

Drinking.

Unaware.

It was only him.

Only Shawn.

Victor stood there, unmoving.

"Expect no more mercy."

The words echoed—not in the air, but in his mind.

Shawn couldn’t respond.

Couldn’t move.

"If you don’t mess with me... I won’t bother you."

Simple.

Final.

"That’s all."

A pause.

"I hope you remember my warning."

And just like that—

It vanished.

The pressure disappeared as if it had never existed.

Shawn staggered slightly, catching himself against the table.

His breath came back in uneven pulls.

Cold sweat ran down his back.

Victor didn’t look at him again.

He simply walked.

And left the bar.

Shawn remained there.

Standing.

Frozen.

His mind struggled to catch up with what had just happened.

That wasn’t killing intent...

It wasn’t mana...

Then what was it?

His hands trembled slightly as he slowly sat back down.

For the first time—

He felt it clearly.

Fear.

Deep.

Unshakable.

What kind of monster have you provoked... you stupid brother...

The thought came naturally.

His jaw tightened.

I need to warn father.

That much was certain.

Under no circumstances... must we provoke Victor.

The memory of that pressure lingered, like something carved into his bones.

This wasn’t a fight.

It never was.

It was suicide.

After a while, Shawn steadied himself. His breathing returned to normal, his posture straightened once more—but the weight in his chest didn’t fully disappear.

It wouldn’t.

Not anytime soon.

He placed the payment on the table.

Stood up.

And left the bar.