The moonlight was bright, illuminating a perched structure where a man stood leaning, the light faintly reflecting off the matte metal of his red armor.
The man rested against a stone pillar, arms crossed, his head slightly tilted forward, allowing his hood to conceal most of his face.
Only his long blonde hair escaped the shadow, falling gently over his shoulders. At his waist rested a rapier, a finely and elegantly forged blade, whose black sheath contrasted with the faint glow of its ornate hilt.
It was then that he sensed a presence.
His sharp senses picked up the approach even before the voice echoed through the silence of the night.
A man emerged from the darkness with a mischievous smile, his dark skin highlighted by the sparse glow of distant torches.
His long, curly hair was partially tied back, leaving some loose strands framing his sharp face, and at his waist hung an ornate scimitar.
The visitor stopped a few steps away, tilting his head slightly to the side, as if analyzing his interlocutor with amusement.
"Hiding from someone?" he asked in a teasing tone, his white teeth gleaming in a predatory smile.
The man in red armor lifted his gaze without changing his posture. "Aren't you afraid that he'll find you wandering so freely?"
The visitor chuckled, a hoarse sound filled with disdain.
The warrior furrowed his brow and continued, "You're the one who warned me repeatedly about the target's instincts, weren't you?"
The warrior, dressed in common desert garb, waved his hand dismissively. "Forget about that, use whatever disguise you want. I came to tell you one thing: don't stay in his presence, don't even meet with him."
The statement made the red-cloaked swordsman raise an eyebrow beneath his hood. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice firm but tinged with slight hesitation.
The desert warrior let out a sigh and stepped forward, his expression growing even more animated, with a touch of madness. "Hahaha, I was watching him from several miles away with the Clairvoyant Eye. I followed every step he took. But then, while that guy, Gertan, was talking about me, I managed to read his lips…" He paused, his eyes narrowing. "And I reacted with a faint killing intent. Very faint. Almost imperceptible."
Silence settled for a moment, dense as the night itself.
"And yet," he continued, his eyes gleaming intensely, "the boy sensed something. As soon as I reacted, he seemed to feel it—his instincts are dangerous. If you so much as interact with him, he might sense your intentions."
The certainty in his words made the man in red armor thoughtful. He lowered his gaze for a moment, his fingers instinctively sliding over the hilt of his rapier.
Then, he sighed. "Alright… I'll come up with an excuse to leave. But I wonder if you're not being overly cautious."
The desert warrior let out a loud laugh, echoing between the alley walls. "I just don't underestimate the brat!" His eyes shone with amusement, his posture remaining relaxed. "I've never failed a job, and this time I was sure I would—but I was lucky enough to get information about him from one of his former traveling companions."
The hooded man's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
The other's grin widened. "Ah… it was a monkey," he laughed again.
"We didn't find him directly. But he boasted about the Red Wolf endlessly in a bar in Begaritt. Heheh… And when I went looking for information, the mage in my group pointed directly to the person who had been drinking and partying with the monkey. That guy knew a lot about the boy. It was truly lucky… Or maybe it was fate?! HAHAHAHA!"
Only the warrior's laughter echoed. The cold wind blew through the alley, lightly rustling the garments of both fighters.
"That boy is quite abnormal… he was unlucky. If he were just two years younger, I wouldn't act against him—you know, I don't kill children," the desert warrior said after stopping his laughter, looking up at the sky as if recalling something. "But don't worry, the plan will work. Just don't meet with him and do your part."
He waved his hand carelessly before spinning on his heels and leaping, his feet lightly touching the wall before propelling him onto the rooftops above. In seconds, he disappeared among the buildings, like a shadow sculpted by the wind.
The man in red armor remained still for a few moments, merely watching the empty space where the other had stood. Then, he let out a long sigh and turned, leaving the alley with firm steps.
"That guy…" he murmured to himself, his tone laden with exasperation. "He really doesn't act like an emperor…"
And then, without looking back, he walked into the darkness.
---
Rygar, Eidar, and Eris walked through the bustling streets of the capital, accompanied by Gertan, the North Saint assigned as their group's guide. The city was brimming with energy as they made their way toward the headquarters of the North God Style.
Ghislaine, Lilia, Aisha, and Skoll had stayed at the mansion. Ghislaine had mentioned that she had fought a North King before and wasn't interested, choosing to stay and take care of the others. Perhaps that wasn't the only reason. Rygar knew she was still affected by Sauros' death, so only the four of them continued forward.
Gertan was strong. The previous day, he had defeated Eidar. His techniques were peculiar, using his sword as the core of his combat.
The blade could alternate between soft and rigid, granting extraordinary unpredictability that disrupted the opponent's flow, making any attempt at maintaining a consistent rhythm useless.
Against Eris, he had also emerged victorious, but there the difference lay in pure strength and speed. Eris had put up a decent fight, but in the end, she was overpowered.
However, when he faced Rygar and Ghislaine, Gertan was defeated instantly. Just a single Longsword of Light from Rygar was enough to end the fight.
As they walked, they chatted animatedly, and Gertan told them about the North God Style headquarters.
"In the past, our dojo housed a North God and three Emperors. They were the Second North God and his three subordinates. But that was two generations ago, and it's assumed they have all passed away. However, there is no confirmation since they left the headquarters while still young."
Finally, they arrived at the headquarters.
It was a peculiar place.
Built from raw stone, it rose around a small hill, like a fortress sculpted by nature and refined by the hands of the warriors who trained there. Stone platforms had been erected around the hill, forming a structure that seemed to challenge the sky.
Gertan guided them, "The first floor is accessible to all practitioners, regardless of their strength. The second floor is restricted to advanced-level warriors or higher. The third floor allows entry only to saint-level warriors, and finally, the fourth floor is exclusive to those who have reached the level of King or higher. I myself don't know what's up there, hahaha."
The platforms were filled with warriors training. The sound of clashing swords echoed through the air, blending with the shouts of instructors and the impact of strikes against stone dummies.
Some warriors were performing individual exercises, refining their posture and breath control, while others dueled intensely, their blades sparking as they clashed. There was a vibrant energy in the place, an atmosphere saturated with the spirit of battle.
Gertan led them to a large platform on the ground floor.
"This is the challenge platform," he explained, pointing to the center. "Just go there and declare the name of the one you wish to challenge."
Rygar looked around and noticed the number of warriors gathered. There was a certain tension and anticipation in the air. The structure resembled a coliseum, where only the strongest stood out.
He then turned to Eris and, with a slight smile and an expectant look, said:
"Eris, go there and challenge as many advanced-level warriors as you can in a row. I want to test your progress."
Eris did not hesitate. Her gaze ignited with determination.
Rygar knew how much she had been training.
She was incredibly talented, and now, equipped with high-quality armor, a cape that increased her agility, and a sword with the same effect, personally crafted by the God of Ore, he believed she was close to the Saint level. But there was still a long way to go—after all, she was only nearly eleven years old.
Eidar watched in silence, his eyes keenly observing the unfolding events. Gertan, on the other hand, let out an excited laugh.
"This is going to be interesting," he said, crossing his arms. "Their pride is going to be shattered! Hahahaha!"
Eris stepped forward, her posture exuding confidence.
She entered the platform and, crossing her arms with a challenging gaze, firmly declared:
"I challenge any warrior here ranked at the advanced level! In any style!"
Her arrogant tone and confident stance provoked mixed reactions. Some warriors laughed, while others were irritated by her boldness. A muscular swordsman, with disheveled hair and scars scattered across his body, leaped forward, laughing.
"Girl, do you think we're all just playing around here?"
Before he could finish his sentence, Eris had already moved. Her body propelled forward with astonishing speed.
The warrior barely had time to draw his sword before a clean slash cut across his chest, sending him flying backward. He crashed heavily to the ground, groaning in pain, while Eris remained firm, pointing her sword at the next opponent.
"Next!"
The laughter stopped. The healer ran to tend to the first defeated warrior, while the other swordsmen now looked at the girl with seriousness. A new challenger stepped into the arena.
"Okay, little girl… looks like you're something after all."
He drew two swords and took an aggressive stance. Eris charged forward with unstoppable momentum. This opponent was more prepared and managed to react better, exchanging blows with her.
However, Eris's brutal and direct style forced him to retreat until he, too, fell, defeated. His scattered fighting style couldn't withstand the young warrior's rapid and relentless attacks.
The succession of battles continued. The third opponent lasted longer. The fourth, even more.
With each battle, Eris felt her body growing tired, but her fury and determination kept her devastating pace. Sweat dripped down her face, but her eyes shone with challenge.
By the time she reached her eighth opponent, both were panting and wounded.
The exchanges of blows were fierce, sparks flying with each clash of swords. Eris pushed her energy to the limit and, with one final burst of speed, struck.
Her opponent was caught off guard, stumbled, and failed to react to the swift attack. But before Eris's blade could cleave him in half, Rygar intervened, stopping the strike with his own sword.
He stepped forward and healed the wounded warrior before holding Eris, healing her as well. She looked at him, breathing heavily, and he smiled.
"You defeated three more than I expected. Your fighting spirit is truly impressive. You did well, but you've already lost quite a bit of blood. It's best to stop here."
Eris's eyes gleamed at the praise. She seemed to regain her energy instantly, standing up with a determined expression and saying:
"Yes! I will keep improving and catch up to you!"
There was something more in her gaze, something Rygar didn't notice.
The sun was high in the sky. Rygar looked at Gertan, who confirmed with a nod, and then shouted:
"I challenge the North King, Hasjulian, the Red Death, to a duel!"
The entire dojo fell silent for a moment. Then, a warrior shouted:
"Hey, brat! Just because you kids are a little strong, you think you've gone crazy?! He's a North King!"
The man drew his curved sword and leaped into the arena. He was a North Saint.
But as soon as he landed, a bolt of lightning pulsed from Rygar's hand, illuminating the platform and striking his body directly. He was hurled against the wall, breaking part of the structure and ending up buried in the rubble.
Silence fell once more.
"What was that?! What kind of magic is this?!"
"And it was chantless magic!"
"Was that lightning?!"
People murmured in shock. The healer was also stunned until he felt a hand on his shoulder. A deep, firm voice spoke:
"Don't worry. Go and heal him. This will serve as a lesson..."
The man who had spoken was immense, nearly two meters tall. His skin was dark, his hair and beard were gray, and he carried a colossal sword on his back. His armor, made of leather and blue dragon scales, reflected the sunlight.
He walked toward Rygar, who still had sparks flickering from his hand, and observed him with interest.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Leader of the Iron Legion. The Flaming Beast. The Red Wolf. And recently, you've gained another title…"
Rygar furrowed his brows.
The man smiled and continued:
"So you don't know? 'The Lightning Emperor.' That's what those who were on the ship with you called you."
Rygar was surprised. That title existed?
The man crossed his arms and declared:
"Allow me to take the place of the opponent you challenged earlier. Hasjulian is indisposed today. It seems he contracted a serious illness and went to the palace for treatment."
Rygar narrowed his eyes and asked:
"And who are you?"
The man smiled confidently and replied:
"I am Lwis Navaro. In case you're curious, I'm a half-blood of the human and demonic races. I am also a North King, known as the Immortal Warrior."
---
Hello! If you want to support my writing, check out my subscription P@treon
By subscribing, you will get access to up to 20 advanced chapters of the Webnovel (I will add more in the future) and polls to decide various things about the story.
Your support will encourage me to continue writing more chapters! Check it out here: pa treon.com/DaoistJunkYard
---
Special Thanks
Thank you to Manuel Martinez Marichal, Jerôme and Shadow for becoming member on Patreon!