(Leo Von Saimon: He was considered a genius among geniuses, a boy capable of mastering the imperial sword style at a very young age. Not to mention, his magic held enough potential to become a high-ranking mage, even within the prestigious Magic Tower.)
"Leo at this age should be at the third star, not to mention he's a prodigy among geniuses," Cain thought, his gaze lingering on Leo with a mixture of disdain and mild amusement.
"But I don't think he'll defeat me today. After all, I'm at the sixth star. Although I can only use three of them right now, those three stars enhance my body—circulation, senses, strength, speed, agility—and provide resistance against the cold. The star within my heart channels mana throughout my body," Cain mused, a proud smile curving his lips.
Leo, on the other hand, was growing increasingly impatient, his aura flaring as he unleashed a surge of red mana that melted the snow beneath his feet.
"Oh, no doubt, he's a genius. Releasing mana as an aura to warm his body and fend off the cold? Interesting, but very... basic," Cain thought to himself, his mind already formulating a strategy as he watched Leo's movements.
Without a word, Cain moved, his form blurring into the mist that surrounded them. He became one with the fog, an ethereal figure that seemed to disappear and reappear with the shifting winds. In a swift, almost imperceptible motion, Cain struck, his blade slicing through the air with lethal precision.
Before Leo could react, he felt the impact—a sharp, sudden force against his sword. He looked down in shock as his weapon split in two, the severed blade falling helplessly to the snow-covered ground.
Leo's eyes widened in disbelief. He had been so confident, so sure of his own strength, yet Cain had shattered that confidence in an instant.
Cain reappeared before Leo, his expression cold and detached. "You're powerful, Leo. But power alone isn't enough. It never has been," Cain said, his voice calm yet filled with an underlying warning.
The red aura around Leo flickered, his rage struggling to maintain its intensity in the face of Cain's overwhelming presence. "How… How did you…?" Leo stammered, the words catching in his throat as he tried to comprehend what had just happened.
Cain didn't respond immediately. Instead, he simply observed Leo, his eyes narrowing slightly as he weighed the boy's potential against the dangers of unchecked pride.
"You've got talent, but talent without discipline is nothing more than a ticking time bomb," Cain finally said, his voice low but firm. "And you, Leo… you're not ready for what comes next."
With that, Cain turned away, the mist swirling around him as if he were a phantom of the snow itself, leaving Leo standing there, his breath ragged, his pride shattered like the sword in his hand.
Leo stood in shock, unable to comprehend how Cain had defeated him without even breaking a sweat. Despite resorting to using mana, he still couldn't overpower him. A look of anguish and desperation washed over Leo's face as he searched for Cain, only to see him standing tall, completely unfazed, and meeting the count's gaze without flinching.
Patrick glared at Cain with disgust and a burning, murderous intent. He couldn't help but feel a wave of anger and disappointment at Leo's defeat, especially at the hands of Cain. The count was both surprised and infuriated by Cain's talent with the sword—talent that Leo, despite all his training, couldn't match. Cain's speed, precision, steadiness, balance, and instinct were comparable to someone with years of battle experience. Patrick found himself questioning how Cain could possess such a high level of skill.
"You…," Patrick began, but was cut off by Leo's sudden outburst.
"Cain!! I challenge you to another duel," Leo demanded, his voice shaking with rage.
"Are you not satisfied with the duel you just had?" Cain responded dryly, his tone calm and sensible.
"You clearly cheated! There's no other way you could have beaten me," Leo spat, his pride wounded deeply.
Cain paused for a moment before a slow, mocking smile spread across his face. "...Ha, haha, HAHAHA!" Cain's laughter echoed in the cold air, each chuckle dripping with contempt. To him, cheating was utterly unnecessary in this battle. His years of experience in his past life stood as a testament to his superiority in the art of combat.
"Leo, you know nothing," Cain said, his voice now firm and serene as he narrowed his eyes, his hand resting on the hilt of his sheathed sword. "You only train under a master in a controlled environment, with all the protection and comfort of a prince. But…"
Cain's voice grew colder as he continued, "You've never experienced what it's like to kill a being stronger than you. I imagine the only things you've hunted are a few wolves, and that was probably just for sport. Meanwhile, I trained by hunting black bears, solely for the purpose of survival," he finished, his eyes locking onto Leo's with a chilling gaze. In one swift motion, Cain drew his sword and pointed it directly at Leo's throat.
Leo froze, his breath catching in his throat as he stared down the blade, feeling the icy touch of fear creeping up his spine.
"Our methods of training and fighting are worlds apart. You train for honor, but I train to become strong. In short, compared to me… you are nothing." Cain's voice was as cold as the winter air, his eyes narrowing as he spoke. The intensity of his murderous intent radiated from him, his blue eyes piercing through Leo like those of a predator—cold, calculating, and lethal. To Leo, Cain's eyes looked like those of a wolf, a creature that he should flee from as fast as possible.
"How dare you say that?" Patrick interjected, his voice filled with indignation and rage. He glared at Cain with even more contempt than before, unable to tolerate the insolence directed at his son.
Patrick stepped forward, grabbing Cain by the left shoulder as if to stop him. But in an unexpected turn, Patrick caught a glimpse of Cain's eyes—cold, terrifying, and filled with a killer's resolve.
"How can someone have such a look at that age?" Patrick thought, a shiver running down his spine at the sight of Cain's expression.
Aquí tienes una versión más detallada del final del capítulo:
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"Answer me! How dare you speak like that to someone of noble blood?" Patrick's voice shook with barely contained fury, his eyes boring into Cain with a mix of outrage and disbelief.
Cain, unfazed, merely tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a smirk that was both arrogant and calculating. "Ehhh!! But I'm just being honest when I say he's nothing compared to me. It would be worse to lie to him, wouldn't it?" Cain's voice was laced with a mocking tone, his gaze never wavering from Patrick's. "Tell me, wise man, how does one gain better battle experience? By facing death head-on or by practicing trivial exercises in a safe, controlled battle?"
The room seemed to grow colder with Cain's words, as if his confidence and disdain for their nobility had sucked the warmth from the very air. His smile was no longer just arrogant—it was the smile of someone who had seen and survived more than anyone in the room could fathom, and it dripped with malice and contempt.
Patrick's face twisted in anger, but Cain could see the flicker of doubt in his eyes. The count knew that Cain was speaking the truth. No training in the safety of a noble's estate could compare to the brutal reality of staring death in the face, where every mistake could be your last. Yet, even with this knowledge, the sheer insolence of Cain's words made Patrick's blood boil.
Patrick turned his gaze to Leo, who stood frozen, his earlier bravado shattered by Cain's ruthless honesty. The humiliation in Leo's eyes was clear, his pride in tatters as the weight of Cain's words pressed down on him. Patrick felt a pang of bitterness—he couldn't deny the truth of Cain's words, not when they were so plainly demonstrated before him.
The tension in the room was palpable, as if at any moment it might snap like a tightly wound cord. Cain, however, remained perfectly composed, his icy blue eyes locking with Patrick's. He knew he had won this confrontation—not just with Leo, but with Patrick as well. The power dynamics had shifted, and it was clear who now held the upper hand.
Patrick clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to contain his rage. Cain's calm, almost bored demeanor only fueled his anger further. Yet, Patrick was forced to swallow his pride, knowing full well that he couldn't openly challenge Cain's words without appearing foolish or weak in the eyes of others.
"...You speak boldly for someone of your age," Patrick finally managed to say, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "But mark my words, Cain—your arrogance will be your downfall."
Cain merely chuckled, the sound low and filled with dark amusement. "Perhaps," he said, his voice soft but dripping with certainty, "but not today."
As Cain turned to leave, his presence seemed to linger in the room, like a shadow that refused to fade. Patrick and Leo were left standing there, the col
d silence that followed feeling heavier than the words that had been spoken.