Aidan slowly opened his eyes to find the night had deepened, the crescent moon hanging high in the sky, casting a serene, silvery glow. The open door allowed the moonlight to flood in, accompanied by a gentle, chilling breeze.
"So, the brat finally wakes up. How long do you plan to keep cultivating? Come out already. Whether you stick your neck out or not, you're going to get it. You messed with the wrong person." Garrick, who had been standing vigilantly at the door, perked up at the sign of movement.
Aidan squinted, gauging the situation. It seemed Elara had left?
"Hey, brat, are you listening? Get out here now! You have a room and a bed, while I'm stuck standing out here in the cold. If you don't come out, believe it or not, I'll break in!" Garrick threatened, seeing no response from Aidan.
Aidan remained unmoved, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to Garrick's growing frustration. The standoff at the doorway under the moonlit night encapsulated more than a mere dispute; it was a manifestation of the intricate dance between individual will and the expectations imposed by others.
"You wretched cur, emerge and yield at once. You have crossed the son of the Duke, and your days of ease are numbered. Prostrate yourself before the Lady and beg her pardon; perhaps she may yet find it in her heart to forgive you," Garrick bellowed, his voice laced with disdain.
It appeared the Awakened Tier ascender had long vacated the premises, leaving Garrick to guard over me. "Heh," a smirk crept onto Aidan's lips as he rose from his bed, beginning to quietly flex his limbs.
As warmth suffused his body, he stepped out of the dormitory.
"Ah, the boy finally deigns to show himself. Well then, surrender peacefully and come with me to apologize to my Lady," Garrick's ears twitched, detecting Aidan's footsteps, and he sprang to his feet with surprising agility for his size.
His frame was broad and imposing, nearly twice the size of Aidan's.
Muscles rippled across his body, a menacing light flickering in the narrow slits of his eyes beneath furrowed brows, reminiscent of a starved hyena.
Aidan's face remained impassive as he continued his approach.
"You would have done yourself a favor by coming out sooner, boy. Do you have any idea of the hardships I've endured guarding you?" Garrick sneered, his laughter cold as he advanced towards Aidan, his intentions clearly malevolent.
Just then, Aidan uttered a powerful leap, raised his fists and charged at Garrick.
"You insufferable brat, courting death!" Garrick's face contorted in rage, his fury boiling over. He swung his massive fists, towards Aidan with lethal intent.
The air crackled with tension as Aidan, with the agility of a seasoned fighter, darted beneath Garrick's thunderous blow. His movement was fluid, a testament to countless hours of meticulous training, reminiscent of a master of martial arts weaving through the onslaught of an opponent.
Aidan's counter was swift; he aimed a precise strike at Garrick's exposed ribcage. The technique was borrowed from the ancient art of boxing, targeting vulnerabilities with surgical precision. Garrick, taken aback by the sudden pain, grunted, his face twisting in a grimace.
Not to be outdone, Garrick retaliated with a vicious backhand, his arm sweeping through the air like a giant scythe. Aidan, anticipating the move, ducked and rolled to Garrick's side, leaving the blow to slice through nothing but the cold night air. This move showcased Aidan's understanding of combat rhythm and his opponent's momentum, a principle often highlighted in judo.
Seizing the moment, Aidan sprung up behind Garrick, using the momentum to launch a series of rapid strikes at Garrick's back. Each hit was aimed at pressure points, a technique inspired by the precision of Wing Chun, designed to incapacitate by disrupting the body's internal harmony.
Garrick roared in frustration, attempting to pivot and catch Aidan in his grasp. But Aidan was already moving, his steps light and purposeful, circling Garrick with the ease of a practiced dancer. He feinted to the left before darting in from the right, a classic boxing maneuver to disorient and break through Garrick's defenses.
s the intense exchange neared its climax, with both fighters showcasing their prowess and mastery over various martial arts disciplines, it became evident that neither was willing to yield. Aidan, with his agile maneuvers and precise strikes, matched Garrick's brute strength and resilience blow for blow.
Just as Aidan landed his powerful roundhouse kick, Garrick, driven by sheer determination, caught Aidan's leg in a last-ditch effort. Using his considerable strength, Garrick twisted, attempting to throw Aidan off balance. However, Aidan's training allowed him to react instinctively, using the momentum to flip and land gracefully on his feet, a move reminiscent of capoeira's acrobatic finesse.
In the swirling dance of fists and feet, Aidan found himself momentarily gaining ground, but such fleeting triumphs were hardly destined to endure.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he grappled with Garrick, whose endurance seemed boundless in comparison. The chasm between their physical capabilities loomed large.
Meanwhile, Garrick's movements became more fluid, his body warming to the challenge. With each strike, his speed increased, shedding the numbness and sluggishness inflicted by the cold, revealing the true prowess honed through decades of relentless practice.
"You're no match for me, lad," Garrick taunted with a savage grin. His wealth of combat experience emboldened him to assail Aidan's spirit with words.
"My current vessel may only be eighteen summers old, lacking in the refinement of training and physical prowess," Aidan think in his mind, his resolve unyielding as ice. Forged over five centuries of trials, his determination remained unshakable.
Suddenly, Aidan's entire body lit up with 33 Ascension Sigils, and a powerful wolf leaped out from the shadows, sinking its teeth into Garrick's calf in one swift motion.
An intense wave of agony surged through Garrick's nerves, catching him off guard and nearly causing him to faint from the pain. He cried out in alarm, his voice tinged with fear, "You're using Essence Conduits in combat here—it's against the clan's rules!"
"So what?" Aidan sneered coldly. His mastery of the clan's rules was never about adherence but about understanding and exploiting them.
"How is this possible?!" Garrick's mind raced with fear as he felt the threat of death closing in from all sides. He hastily kicked the wolf away, his fighting spirit extinguished as he made a desperate attempt to retreat.
"Think you can just walk away?" Aidan's laughter was icy as he pursued,He and his wolves attacked from two sides, one on the left and the other on the right.
"Help!!" Garrick's cries echoed through the silent halls of the academy as he fled for his life, his voice carrying far in the stillness.
As Garrick's blood loss increased, his movements slowed. Suddenly, his vision darkened as a gaping maw, reeking of blood, lunged towards his neck with ferocious intent.
In desperation, he raised his arm to block, but the wolf's jaws clamped down viciously on his flesh, a scream of agony trapped in his throat.
Aidan arrived from behind, swiftly drawing the dagger he carried and cleanly severing Garrick's head, pronouncing his death sentence.
Garrick felt a chilling sensation wash over him, as if he had just plummeted into an abyss.
In the next moment, his vision spun wildly, and he saw his own feet, his chest, his back... and the severed stump of his neck.
Then, he was enveloped in total darkness.
Garrick was dead.
As the guards arrived on the scene, witnessing the gruesome sight, whispers of shock and terror rippled through their ranks.
"Murder!" one guard exclaimed in a hushed tone. "Aidan has committed murder!"
The guards couldn't help but shudder, feeling a mixture of fear and dread. Aidan, a frail sixteen-year-old, had just slain a powerful adult with nothing but his wiles and his wolf. Such was the power of an Ascendant!
Aidan's expression remained impassive, as though he had just completed a mundane task like eating or drinking. This nonchalance sent a chill down the spines of the guards.
Garrick's severed head lay on the ground, eyes wide in an unyielding stare.
With a detached air, Aidan raised his foot and kicked the head away, causing the guards to recoil in shock.
Approaching Garrick's quivering body, Aidan observed the trembling form and the spreading pool of blood beneath it. The first rays of dawn pierced through the mountain peaks, casting a faint glow into the academy.
Under the dawn's light, sixteen-year-old Aidan walked with measured steps.
To his left, a pack of fierce wolves trailed behind him.
In his right hand, he dragged a headless corpse.
As he walked, the crimson trail of blood stained the dark blue stones beneath his feet.
The guards, trailing behind, watched in stunned silence, a cold dread gripping their stiffened bodies.