Greedy Wolf locked eyes on the iron-masked man, a burly figure radiating malicious intent. There was no mistaking it-this guy reeked of battlefield energy, the kind that sends shivers down your spine.
Sizing him up, Greedy Wolf asked, “So, you’re the one calling yourself Liam John, the butcher who wiped out the two major families of the Western Frontier?”
The masked man didn’t answer. He just took a stiff, almost puppet-like step toward Greedy Wolf. His jerky movements were unnatural, like someone was pulling his strings.
What the hell? Is he… being controlled?
The thought gnawed at Greedy Wolf’s mind.
Suddenly, a young man nearby sneered, his face twisted in smug satisfaction. “Why don’t you take a wild guess? Liam John, take him out!”
With a dramatic wave of his hand, the stiff figure began advancing on Greedy Wolf, his movements deliberate and heavy, as though every step carried the weight of destruction. The air in the Fcon Hotel seemed to tremble under his presence, and from beneath the iron mask came a primal, beast-like aura.
“It’s him! That’s the one who killed Beckett!” Georgia Adams gasped, clutching Kayden Scott’s arm tightly, her voice trembling with fear.
Kayden placed his hand over hers and spoke calmly, “Don’t worry. I’m here.”
At his touch, Georgia felt a strange calm wash over her, as though his presence alone was enough to chase away her fear. Kayden Scott truly had a magic about him.
Meanwhile, Greedy Wolf’s brows furrowed deeply. This iron-masked man moved like a soldier from the battlefield, like… Liam John himself. But how? If it really was Liam John, what on earth had happened to him?
Once, they were brothers-in-arms, risking their lives together. Now, they were about to cross swords. Anyone would feel the sting of betrayal in this situation. But there was no time for sentiment-victory was the only way to claim the right to speak.
Gritting his teeth, Greedy Wolf raised his golden blade. With precise footwork, he closed the distance between himself and the iron-masked man, charging forward with deadly intent.
The iron-masked man remained eerily calm, his steps slow and measured. Greedy Wolf narrowed his eyes, muttering under his breath, “Stop acting all mysterious.”
With a swift motion, Greedy Wolf struck, aiming for a clean kill by slashing the man’s throat. Yet, to his shock, the blade didn’t connect. The masked man caught the blade bare-handed, as if he could read Greedy Wolf’s every move.
What? He caught my blade… with his hand?
Greedy Wolf’s eyes widened in disbelief. This wasn’t just skill-this was familiarity, as though the iron-masked man knew every move Greedy Wolf would make before he made it.
Up close, Greedy Wolf peered into the man’s eyes through the mask. They were lifeless, devoid of spirit, as though they belonged to a corpse. Yet, deep within, he caught a faint flicker of pride-pride of the battlefield.
“Liam John?” Greedy Wolf whispered the name like a curse, his voice tinged with desperation.
The masked man gave no answer. Instead, he struck out, landing a devastating punch squarely on Greedy Wolf’s chest.
The blow sent Greedy Wolf sliding back across the floor, his boots barely grazing the ground as he struggled to stay upright.
It was the same kind of punch that had killed Beckett Robinson, but Greedy Wolf wasn’t so easily defeated. He was near the Grand level, his Chi providing a protective barrier that absorbed some of the force. Still, the attack was monstrous, forcing him back a full ten meters. If Kayden Scott hadn’t caught him, he would’ve been sent sprawling.
Even so, blood sprayed from Greedy Wolf’s mouth, and he hunched over in pain. This wasn’t like fighting the usual small fry-this guy packed serious power.
But Greedy Wolf wasn’t about to back down. Straightening himself, he charged forward again.
The two clashed, Greedy Wolf attacking relentlessly while the iron-masked man parried with cold precision. Their duel was raw and primal, captivating the onlookers, who watched every move as though mesmerized.
Their skills seemed evenly matched, each attack countered perfectly. Finally, after exchanging another brutal set of blows, both fighters stepped back, breathing heavily.
From the sidelines, the young man laughed maniacally. “See that? My Liam John is unstoppable! How’s that, Kayden? Pretty damn impressive, huh?”
Greedy Wolf clutched his chest but still looked defiant. “Defender… he…”
Before he could finish, Kayden Scott stopped him with a calm hand. “Lend me your blade.”
“What? You’re going in?” Greedy Wolf hesitated. Kayden wasn’t known for using knives-his specialty lay elsewhere. But without questioning further, he handed over the golden blade.
Kayden Scott examined the weapon with a cold, calculating gaze before turning to the laughing youth. “You’re way too full of yourself. That laugh of yours really pisses me off.”
“Oh? And what are you gonna do about it? Ha! Ha! Ha!” The youth’s arrogance was as grating as nails on a chalkboard.
Kayden’s eyes flashed with icy resolve. “Die.”
With a flick of his wrist, he hurled the blade. It flew through the air with a piercing whistle before embedding itself in the youth’s leg. The smug smile vanished instantly, replaced by a grotesque grimace of pain as he collapsed to the ground with a thud.
“Ahhh!” the youth screamed, clutching his leg as blood pooled around him. His confidence shattered, he glared up at Kayden in terror. “You… you fight dirty!”
Kayden took a slow step forward, his gaze piercing. “I told you-I don’t like your laugh.”
“Liam John! Kill him! Kill him now!” the youth shrieked, his voice cracking.
The iron-masked man advanced, his fists clenched tightly before releasing them, palms down. Suddenly, an invisible gust of wind rippled from his hands, stirring the air ominously.
Kayden’s eyes narrowed. Deathly Palm Strike. The same move that had once defended Seclela’s borders, now turned against him.
“Traitor!” Kayden roared, surging forward in a blur. With a lightning-fast motion, he seized the masked man by the throat, his grip unrelenting.
“Do you really want to fight me?” Kayden bellowed, then delivered a crushing blow to the man’s chest.
The iron-masked man flew backward, crashing into a chair with a deafening crack. The force shattered not only the chair but the two nearby tables as well.
As the dust settled, the iron mask cracked and fell away, revealing a face drained of life. His eyes were hollow, his features rugged and scarred.
But it was the scar running across his face that made Kayden’s expression shift.
It really was him. The man he had been searching for all this time-Liam John.