A surge of fury instantly rose within Fletcher as his gaze swept across the twelve lifeless bodies on the ground. This troop of twelve men was of his own training, not as powerful as the famed “Twelve Golden Armored Guardians” from Battlefield, but they were still warriors he’d poured immense effort into grooming.
And this old bastard had just killed them mercilessly like that! Such an intolerable situation left Fletcher seething with rage.
He lifted his head and shot the old man a deadly glare.
The moment their eyes met, the air inside the estate became thick with tension, suffused with smothering, palpable killing intent.
The old man glared back at Fletcher with bloodshot eyes. He growled enunciating each word with cold clarity, “I warned you. By dragging others into this, you’re only adding to the senseless death toll. Stop your pointless struggle and fight me directly. I promise, your death alone would suffice. Got it?”
A cruel gleam flickered in Fletcher’s eyes as he replied, his voice cutting through the air like a blade, “You dare spill blood in my place. You’re gonna cost your life!”
With that, Fletcher clenched his fists, which ignited with a fierce, glowing red flame.
“Show me what you can do, Firefist! Dying by my hand will be the greatest honor of your life!”
The old man spread his arms wide. The next moment, a violent wind blew over the courtyard and sent the leaves swirling wildly. The wind roared to life, growing stronger and stronger. It whipped up clouds of dust and bent branches to their breaking point. Some onlookers stumbled back, nearly knocked off their feet by the sheer force.
Such incredible power!
Utterly astonishing!
There was no denying that the old man held formidable internal energy. With just a wave of his arms, he threw the place into this tempestuous chaos. Such superhuman power terrified those present. Fletcher studied the old man closely and guessed in heart that he was likely at the Grand level.
To summon the storms freely required abilities beyond the ordinary-only those at or beyond the Grand level could wield such might. The mark of reaching this level was that one had the capacity to wield one’s own internal energy freely, which meant one already held true grand power. That’s why it’s called the Grand level.
Yet Fletcher felt no fear. Even though he had just ascended to the Grand level himself, he remained calm as if his mind was a still lake, undisturbed by the winds of chaos!
Ten years on Battlefield had erased any trace of fear from him. In that decade, he had faced everything horrible he could imagine. It could be said that surviving on Battlefield was no different from clawing his way out of hell. Thus, at this moment, in his eyes, it was the old man who should beg for his mercy.
There was no one he had a reason to fear-no one except the Defender of the South, the war god who ruled every battle.
“Come on then! Show me if you deserve the title of the pride of Battlefield! Show me the power of Firefist, of Zodiac Generals!” The old man stared at Fletcher. He wore an expressionless look, but his words dripped with contempt.
Fletcher slowly aimed his fists at his opponent. His eyes were glued to the old man, much like a beast locking onto its prey. Gritting his teeth, he growled, “Then I’ll show you if I deserve it.”
As the words left his mouth, the flames on his fists flared, blazing like molten steel being forged in a blacksmith’s fire. His fists glowed a deep red, like the name, Firefist! Three years! It had been three years since he had truly fought, three long years without throwing a single punch since leaving Battlefield!
To be honest, he had been aching for this fight long before. He only hoped his opponent wouldn’t disappoint him!
“Come on!” The old man let out a roar at Fletcher, deafening like the roar of a dragon or the growl of a tiger. For a split second, a tempest of invisible energy was unleashed and surged toward Fletcher. The force of this shout whipped Fletcher’s clothes into a frenzy and even sent stools toppling over. Some onlookers were knocked off their feet. The old man’s formidable power was on full display. Many guys around were sweating bullets for Fletcher.
“What the hell… is he even human?” gasped the crowd. It felt like their whole world was upended at the witness of such a spectacle. This was the kind of scene they thought only existed on television, and they had never imagined it would unfold right before their eyes.
In an instant, more people fled. They were all terrified that they could be the next casualty. Soon, only those significant figures and Fletcher’s family remained on the scene.
In truth, many things in this world are beyond the comprehension and acceptance of ordinary people. The education of the new era has locked their perceptions and understanding in a box. People tended to confidently talk about Seclela’s rich culture and long history. Many thought they already had enough understanding about it by merely watching a couple of videos, reading a few articles, or skimming through some novels.
In truth, they were utterly ignorant of Seclela’s rich culture-the Warriors hidden in this place, its traditional medicine, and its authentic history!
They could only see things through their narrow lens, all while adopting a smug attitude of “I trust only what I see with my own eyes!”
The courtyard had grown noticeably quieter. Fletcher looked around, then squared his shoulders and took a step forward.
A roar erupted from behind the old man, echoing like a dragon’s cry. This thunderous bellow triggered a ripple effect, turning the heads of many passers-by outside toward the Atkinson family!
Fletcher revealed a grin. He fiercely stomped down hard on the ground and then charged forward pushing against the invisible flow of energy. His fists clenched tightly as he got into an attacking position. In an instant, he stood face to face with the old man. Without hesitation, he waved his fiery red fists and struck a punch on the old man.
With a resounding thud, his fist landed hard on the old man’s body, but the spectacle he had imagined-where the elder would be sent flying by this punch-did not happen. Instead, the old man didn’t move a muscle, and there was not even a flicker of change in his expression.
Fletcher knew the force behind his own punches. There was no way the old man could take this strike without feeling any hint of pain.
Fletcher was confident in his strength. He admitted that this old man held great power, yet it was hard to believe that his punch didn’t make this guy reveal even one second of weakness. Fletcher furrowed his brows deeply. He shot an incredulous look at the old man, who seemed to anticipate the result. The old man flashed a smug grin, and with a voice that dripped with malice, he said, “What’s the matter? Is this all the strength you can muster? Where’s your pride?”
Fletcher’s cheeks twitched with indignation; this was the first time he had encountered such open disrespect. The old man wasn’t just belittling him-he was crushing him at every turn, even taking jabs at his ego! He seized every opportunity to mock him!
What the hell! He thought he could act at will here?
This was Inassea! This was the Atkinson’s place!
Fletcher channeled all his strength into one hand. Gritting his teeth, he stated word by word, “The fight is just getting started.”
The old man kept observing Fletcher with a scornful gaze before bursting into laughter. “Started? It’s already over!”
As these words left his mouth, some changes occurred in the old man. His muscles suddenly tensed, becoming as rigid as steel, as if the veins were on the verge of bursting forth. Fletcher barely had time to react before he heard the old man unleash a thunderous roar. With that powerful shout, Fletcher was violently propelled backward. He was sent backward for over ten meters.
From start to finish, his feet never left the ground, so to outsiders, it appeared as though he was simply sliding backward on his own. It took him a good distance before he finally came to a stop, nearly falling on his face. In the end, he managed to steady himself, dropping to one knee on the ground. The sheer force of the old man’s internal energy was astonishing. It was unbelievable that he could send him stumbling backward so effortlessly.
What level was he at? The Master level?