Chapter 63: Fists Against a Spear
"Since you’re here, that means the bunch of idiots have failed."
A familiar voice rang out in Lucien’s ears, making his lips curl into a smirk.
Out of the shadows stepped Kaelen’s figure, looking at Lucien with a condescending gaze. His silver-white hair caught the crimson light filtering through the canopy, and his piercing crimson eyes gleamed with barely concealed contempt.
"It seems I was right," Kaelen said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. "Though I must admit, I am surprised you survived with your Origin Realm cultivation."
He raised an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle that echoed through the trees. His gaze swept over Lucien, assessing him like one would inspect a curious insect.
Kaelen was dressed in ornate black and gold robes, the fabric embroidered with intricate patterns of dragons coiled around ancient runes. A silver pendant hung from his neck, pulsing with a faint, protective energy. His posture was relaxed, arms crossed, exuding an air of effortless superiority.
"I’ll admit, I underestimated you," Kaelen continued, his tone almost conversational. "Those seven were supposed to be enough to handle a weakling like you. But it seems you have a few tricks up your sleeve."
He took a step forward, his crimson eyes narrowing.
"Tell me, how did you do it? Did you use some cheap talisman? A hidden artifact? Or perhaps that woman of yours intervened?"
"Oh, she can’t, she’s..." Lucien began, but then he cut himself off, shaking his head.
"Hey," he said, his voice flat and cutting. "Did anyone ever tell you that you talk too much while chattering absolute nonsense?"
Kaelen’s eye twitched in anger, his composure cracking for just a moment. His jaw tightened, and a vein pulsed at his temple. But after a long, tense silence, he let out a sharp laugh, the sound hollow and cold.
"Sorry," he said, his voice dripping with false amusement. "I was just trying to let you enjoy your last happy moments. Or should I say, your last moments."
As Kaelen spoke, he stretched his hand to the side. A spear armament materialized in his grip, its golden surface gleaming with an inner light. A faint, draconic roar emanated from the weapon, its body appearing to be crafted from the spine of a dragon, each vertebrae seamlessly fused into a deadly, elegant form. The tip of the spear pulsed with unknown energy, the air seeming to still from the presence of the Armament.
Lucien raised his eyebrows at the sight. It was a fine armament, far stronger than the longsword he had been using since the assessment began.
"Do you need an armament?" Kaelen said sarcastically when he saw Lucien made no move to bring out a weapon. "I could lend you one."
Lucien, who had been planning to bring out the longsword, heard Kaelen’s sarcastic words and changed his mind. "I don’t need an armament to deal with you," he said calmly. "My fists are enough."
For people like Kaelen, with their arrogance and pride, the best way to deal with them was to crush that arrogance entirely. And what better way than to face them with nothing but his bare hands?
Kaelen was momentarily surprised by Lucien’s words, his eyes widening for just a fraction of a second. Then he burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the forest.
"I hope you don’t regret those arrogant words," he said, his voice laced with amusement and contempt. "Because I certainly won’t."
---
"Isn’t he too arrogant?"
Meanwhile, in the sky above, Sylas and Seraphina were watching the clash unfold below. Sylas shook his head in disappointment when he heard Lucien’s bold words. How could one fight against such a powerful armament with bare fists? That was sheer foolishness.
He took a glance at Seraphina and saw her expression remained unchanged, almost bored, as if she had already seen the outcome.
Unable to contain his curiosity, he asked, "Who do you think will win?"
Seraphina turned to him and said without a moment’s hesitation, "Of course, it’s my darling."
Sylas was stumped by her expected answer. He looked down at Lucien again, wondering if someone of her stature could truly be attracted to him purely by his handsomeness. She seemed completely devoted to him.
Seraphina caught his expression and said, "You don’t believe me."
Sylas couldn’t speak. If he said yes, he might offend her; if he said no, he would be lying. His words were stuck in his throat.
"How about a little bet?" Seraphina proposed, a sly smile forming on her lips. "If Darling wins, you owe me a favour. And if he loses, I owe you one."
Sylas was surprised. A favour from Seraphina was something he could never have dreamed of. But looking at the situation, it showed just how confident she was in Lucien.
He took another glance at the battle below. Was he wrong about the young man? After some contemplation, he nodded in agreement.
Seraphina smiled, her gaze fixed on Lucien below. She wasn’t even bothered by the bet. Lucien had trained before her, and she had an estimate of his true strength. It was something Kaelen simply couldn’t withstand.
---
Kaelen held his spear, his grip firm and confident. He began to circulate his Originat, and a wave of power rippled through the air. Surprisingly, he was at the last level of the Spirit Realm, and his Originat was far more condensed and refined than the others Lucien had faced.
Without a word, Kaelen charged. His spear thrust forward, the tip cutting through the air with a sharp whistle, aimed directly at Lucien’s chest.
Lucien, his fist coated with a layer of condensed Originat, met the attack head-on. He punched forward, his fist colliding with the spear’s tip in a clash of raw power.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, shaking the trees and sending dried leaves cascading to the ground. The force of the collision cracked the earth a little beneath their feet, and the air itself seemed to tremble.
Both of them were pushed back, separating by several meters. They stood in silence, their gazes locked, each assessing the other’s strength from that single exchange.
Kaelen’s smirk faltered slightly. He had expected Lucien to be sent flying, yet the young man stood firm, his fist still crackling with residual energy.
Lucien, on the other hand, flexed his fingers, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Not bad. But not enough.
They didn’t stop. As if moved by the same thought, both of them surged forward, their figures blurring as they closed the distance between them in an instant.
The clash continued.
Spear met fist in a brutal exchange of power and speed. Kaelen’s spear danced through the air like a serpent, each thrust aimed at a vital point; throat, heart, temple. But Lucien moved with fluid precision, his body twisting and weaving around each strike, his fists crashing against the spear’s shaft to deflect its deadly trajectory.
Each collision sent shockwaves rippling through the clearing. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered with every impact, and the trees around them groaned under the pressure of their battle.
Kaelen’s eyes narrowed. His attacks grew faster, more aggressive, a storm of golden strikes that seemed impossible to evade. But Lucien met each one, his movements calm and controlled, as if he could see every strike before it was even thrown.
"You’re fast," Kaelen admitted, his voice carrying a hint of grudging respect. "But speed alone won’t save you."
Lucien didn’t reply. Instead, he ducked under a wild thrust and drove his fist toward Kaelen’s ribs.
Kaelen barely managed to twist away, the blow grazing his robes. His eyes widened slightly, and his smirk returned.
"Interesting," he said. "Very interesting."
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