Chapter 65: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing
Kaelen charged at Lucien again, his spear leading the attack with lightning and wind swirling around its tip in a deadly vortex. The golden dragon coiled around the weapon roared, its form crackling with draconic energy as Kaelen closed the distance in an instant.
The spear thrust forward, aimed directly at Lucien’s chest, a strike meant to pierce through flesh and bone, to end the battle with a single, decisive blow.
But Lucien didn’t dodge.
He stood his ground, his expression calm, almost bored. As the spear tip hurtled toward him, he raised his hand, not to block, but to catch.
Time seemed to slow. The wind howled, lightning crackled, and the crowd held its breath.
Lucien’s fingers closed around the spear’s shaft, just inches from his chest. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, cracking the ground beneath his feet and sending debris flying. But Lucien didn’t budge. His grip was like iron, his arm steady, his gaze locked onto Kaelen’s widening eyes.
"Well," Lucien said, his voice calm and mocking, "that’s enough play for now. And you’re right, we aren’t equal."
He tightened his grip on the spear, and for the first time, Kaelen felt a tremor of genuine fear.
But sensing this fear rising within him, his heart surged with anger. How could he be afraid? How dare he feel such weakness before this insect?
"Go to hell!" Kaelen roared. From the tip of the spear, familiar circular runes appeared, and a lightning bolt was discharged at point-blank range.
With how close the spear was to Lucien’s chest, there was no way he could dodge such an insane lightning bolt. The crowd gasped, many already imagining the outcome.
Or did he even plan to dodge?
The crowd watched as Lucien was swallowed by the lightning bolt. They shook their heads, feeling pity for his fall. He shouldn’t have offended Young Master Kaelen.
The light faded, and smoke cleared. Kaelen’s chest heaved, his eyes fixed on the spot where Lucien had stood. A smirk began to form on his lips.
But then—
"Is this all you’ve got?"
Lucien’s mocking voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Kaelen’s smirk froze. His eyes widened in disbelief. The crowd fell into stunned silence.
Lucien stood there, completely unharmed. His clothes were slightly scorched, but his skin remained unmarked. In his hand, he still held the spear shaft, his grip unyielding. His gaze met Kaelen’s, calm and unimpressed.
"You’ll need more than that if you want to kill me," Lucien said, his voice flat.
"And this spear will be good to use," Lucien added, eyeing the armament in Kaelen’s hands.
With a sudden surge of strength that overwhelmed Kaelen, Lucien snatched the spear from his grasp. Kaelen stumbled back, but instead of panic, a snicker escaped his lips. He didn’t believe Lucien could conquer the spear armament. He was waiting for the backlash, the moment the spear rejected its unworthy wielder.
Lucien held the spear in his hands. Suddenly, a gigantic golden dragon, covered in lightning and wind, erupted from the weapon, its roar shaking the very air. Kaelen smiled, as if he could already see Lucien’s unexpected end.
But to his shock, the dragon didn’t attack Lucien. Instead, it reduced in size, coiling around Lucien like a pleased serpent, slithering around him in joy and excitement.
Kaelen’s mouth opened, wanting to speak, but no words came out. He was too shocked to form a single syllable. His vision blurred, and he coughed out blood in sheer disbelief. He felt as if he had been hit by a rollercoaster, one moment soaring, the next crashing into the ground.
The Spear Armament was one of their ancestral treasures. It had been entrusted to him because of his talent and physique. Now, watching it accept another so easily, he felt as if the sky itself had fallen.
Meanwhile, Lucien examined the armament. Its name was Tempest Dragon Spear, and it seemed far more powerful than he had initially thought. There were seals on it, layers of restrictions that limited its true power.
He placed the spear into his Origin Ring and turned his attention back to Kaelen, who was on the verge of madness from sheer rage.
"Thanks for the armament, Young Master Kaelen," Lucien taunted, his voice dripping with mock gratitude.
Kaelen coughed out another mouthful of blood, this time from pure, unbridled anger. His fists trembled, his pride had been shattered.
The crowd watched in stunned silence. Everything had changed before their eyes like a scene from a play.
Kaelen couldn’t take it any longer. His pride shattered, his armament stolen, his dignity crushed, he charged at Lucien in a blind rage, his fist swinging with reckless fury.
"Like I said, this was enough play," Lucien said calmly. For a split second, his aura shifted, something ancient, something primal, pressing down on the very air around them.
"Kneel."
The word was not a request. It was a command.
Kaelen, mid-charge, suddenly felt a primal aura descend upon him like a mountain. At that moment, his Draconic bloodline and Tempest Dragon Physique immediately withdrew, cowering before an unseen force. His body gave out, his knees buckling as he crashed to the ground, forced to kneel before the very man he had mocked.
Some in the crowd gasped. Jaws dropped. They had watched Kaelen, the arrogant dragon-blooded young master, kneel at the command of a stranger.
Even Kaelen himself was still trying to comprehend what was happening. His body had moved on instinct, but it felt as if his pride, his arrogance, his very identity had been trampled underfoot.
He was defeated in the talent he had prided himself on. His ancestral armament was stolen and subdued before his eyes. And now he was forced to kneel like a common servant.
He hated Lucien. His anger burned like wildfire, consuming all reason. He wished he could strangle Lucien, make him regret ever offending him, but that was an unrealistic dream. The truth was bitter and absolute.
"Honestly, I thought you would be wise," Lucien chided, shaking his head slowly. "But it turns out you’re just a fool who thought he was smart."
He looked down at Kaelen, his gaze cold and unfeeling.
"Well, you’ll have to pay for your foolishness."
Kaelen sensed something off in Lucien’s tone. A flicker of fear crossed his face. "You can’t kill me!" he spat, his voice cracking. "That’s a violation of the assessment!"
"Do I need to kill you?" Lucien’s smirk widened. "I just need to repay what you planned to do to me."
Kaelen’s blood ran cold. He understood exactly what Lucien meant. The same fate he had planned for Lucien, wasting his cultivation, leaving him helpless, was now being turned back on him. His eyes widened in terror as the realization sank in.
He began to crawl backward, fear gripping his heart. He would rather die than have his cultivation wasted, to be reduced to nothing, to become a mortal in a world where power was everything.
"If you do this, you will face the endless revenge of my clan and from me!" Kaelen threatened, his voice trembling. Perhaps Lucien would hesitate if he knew the consequences.
Lucien paused. Then, unexpectedly, he burst into laughter, deep, genuine, mocking laughter that echoed through the clearing. Kaelen stared at him in confusion, unable to understand what was so funny.
Lucien bent down, bringing his face close to Kaelen’s, his smile fading into something cold and serious.
"Okay, as man to man, let me knock some sense into you," Lucien said, his voice low and steady.
"Tell me, what world are we in? And what is the law that everyone knows?"
Kaelen fell silent. He knew the answer, but his pride refused to let him speak.
"Okay, let’s put that aside," Lucien continued. "Now that you know I’m not the weak cockroach you thought I was, why don’t you consider that my background might not be as simple as you assumed?"
He paused, letting the words sink in.
"Or do you think your family is the strongest? If they were, why are they still just a vassal force of Draktharion City? There’s more I could say, but this should be enough to make you realize your foolishness."
Kaelen’s expression turned ugly as the weight of Lucien’s words crashed over him. He had underestimated the young man before him. He had judged him by his aura, his appearance, his sickly frame, and now he was paying the price.
He looked at Lucien and realized the truth. This man wasn’t a sheep wandering into a den of wolves.
He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Lucien walked closer to him, wanting to take care of him. The battle had a destined end; it was just Kaelen’s fault for kicking an iron plate over something as simple as stumbling into each other.
Kaelen dragged his body backward across the ground, his mind racing. He didn’t know what to say. He realized Lucien’s background seemed stronger than his. And if it wasn’t, that meant Lucien simply didn’t fear his clan or family.
But there was no way he was taking this lying down, watching as he became wasted.
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