Ge Jin's massive frame halted completely.
A heavy silence settled over the area. The breathing between them grew coarse and deliberate. Slowly, the towering green figure turned his head, white, gleaming eyes fixing upon Minori with a cold, unreadable stare.
"You're trying to provoke me, human alchemist."
Ge Jin's voice was thick and gravelly, the kind of voice that had long ago discarded warmth. Though his tone seemed emotionless, his clenched jaw and halted retreat betrayed the truth—Minori's words had struck a chord.
Like a stone dropped into still water, they sent ripples through the ogre warrior's thoughts.
In that moment of stillness, Ge Jin realized something.
He had lingered in the Baharuth Empire too long.
What began as a journey to hone his strength had somehow turned into routine. He met Osco, the Imperial Arena operator, trained endlessly, and fought countless matches. Yes, he had gained power—through combat and learning martial forms of mankind. But had he not already learned what he needed?
More martial techniques? Was that enough to justify staying?
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Ge Jin's gaze, but he quickly buried it. His stare fell upon the short, thin young man before him.
"Don't overestimate yourself," he growled.
"I've heard all kinds of smooth-talking humans."
"Your words don't even rank among the cleverest. Do you think I'm just some dumb brute, easy to manipulate with a few flowery phrases?"
His voice darkened with threat. "Don't test me. I'll kill you."
With that final declaration, his body tensed, and a suffocating aura spilled outward like a storm preparing to break.
"Wh-What a monster…"
The small black hound at Minori's side instinctively tucked its tail, backing several paces with wide, fearful eyes.
Minori shot the creature a brief glance and waved it away. "You don't belong in this kind of fight. Go."
Then he turned back, lifting his chin as he addressed the giant ogre.
"How about a duel?"
The sleeves of his loose white robe shifted, revealing a short magical staff slipping into his palm.
Ge Jin blinked, then scoffed. "Are you joking?"
"I've already wasted enough time on you, foolish alchemist."
In all the Baharuth Empire, no warrior could match him. And yet this alchemist—famous for potions, not power—dared to challenge him?
Disinterest flickered across his face. He began to turn away again.
But Minori spoke once more, calmly and deliberately.
"Abelion Hills."
"You've heard of it, haven't you? A wild frontier ruled by demi-humans and alien races."
"But what you probably don't know," Minori said as his tone sharpened, "is that among them are ten warriors known as the 'Ten Outstanding.' Each one stronger than any human hero you've seen. Some even exceed that."
Boom!
Ge Jin spun around. The casual detachment in his gaze was gone. His white pupils burned like frozen steel. "Where is this place!?"
Minori didn't answer right away. Instead, he raised the wand in his hand and triggered its power.
An invisible pulse rippled outward.
Ge Jin merely stood there, unflinching.
"A silencing field," Minori explained flatly. "No sound leaves this space. The wand's power is spent now—but it served its purpose."
He glanced at the staff again—useless now without magical recharge—and tucked it away without regret. Money could buy more. He had no reason to waste skill points on such a trivial spell.
"Are you done?" Ge Jin asked coldly.
"I am." Minori met his gaze evenly. "Let's begin."
Ge Jin, known as the "Martial King," prided himself on the warrior's path. He did not kill those who surrendered their arms. He fought for spirit and strength. To earn his recognition, one needed power—not clever words.
Minori understood this.
That was why he chose to show his strength now.
With a sharp motion, he summoned magic—swish! swish!—and two Fire Archangels materialized in blinding bursts of white flame.
Ge Jin's eyes narrowed in surprise, but his lips twisted into a smirk.
"So this is your trump card?"
"I'll make sure you learn the difference between hope and delusion."
Waterflow Acceleration!
Boom!
Ge Jin's foot struck the ground, and his towering body surged forward with astonishing speed—far faster than any being of his size had a right to move.
In a flash, he was in front of the summoned archangels.
Without giving them a chance to strike, he reached out with both hands, seized their heads, and slammed them together.
BOOM!
A thunderous crack split the air. The sheer force of the impact blew shockwaves in every direction. Their helmets fractured. Their radiant bodies shattered into floating particles and vanished.
Both gone in one move.
Ge Jin lowered his hands, casting a shadow over Minori as he stepped forward, gaze heavy with finality.
It was as if he were saying, This is over.
But Minori did not flinch.
"Pride," he said softly, "is one of the original sins."
As he spoke, his hand dipped to the magic pouch on his belt.
An ordinary-looking iron sword appeared.
In truth, the sword came from his Item Box—but he wore the enchanted pouch to disguise it. A magician's trick. Let others assume he was rummaging through mundane equipment.
"Dark Wave."
The moment the words left his lips, a blast of dark energy erupted around him in a wave, enveloping everything within several meters.
Caught point-blank, Ge Jin froze in place.
"Wha—!?"
His limbs locked up. His eyes went wide.
It was the power of an occupational skill—Dark Wave, drawn from the Cursed Knight class. Level didn't matter. As with all control-type skills, it was binary: resist it or be helpless.
Ge Jin could not resist.
Minori stepped in. His expression was calm. He raised the iron sword—and slashed.
Slice!
The blade tore into Ge Jin's chest, biting through the tough ogre skin. Blood sprayed in gouts. But his body was massive, and the sword only cut so deep.
Then—crack!
The blade snapped in half.
Minori stepped back, avoiding the spray of blood.
The spell broke.
With a roar, Ge Jin retreated several paces, regaining control. His hand clutched the bleeding wound on his chest, eyes filled with disbelief.
"What was that… just now…!?"
He stared at the blood on his fingers, then at Minori.
The contempt was gone.
Now, there was only wariness—and a grudging respect.