A Hero Cornered by Fate
Steel clashed against steel as the battle raged through the grand hall of the Ashbourne Household.
The marble floor had long since been scarred by shattered tiles and deep cracks. Dust drifted through the air while broken furniture lay scattered across the battlefield, turning the once-elegant residence into a chaotic war zone.
In the center of it all stood Steffan.
His breathing had grown heavier, yet his eyes remained as sharp as ever.
He faced four opponents alone.
Liza Voss.
Lina Ashford.
And the two elite Ashbourne Household enforcers.
All four were early Gold Realm experts.
Against them stood a single mid Gold Realm cultivator.
Under normal circumstances, even a talented mid Gold Realm expert would inevitably be overwhelmed by four opponents of the same level.
But Steffan...
Was never an ordinary cultivator.
As the former Martial Art King of the Farlands, every ounce of his strength had been forged through countless life-and-death battles. Every scar on his body carried the memory of a battlefield soaked in blood.
His cultivation realm alone could never measure his true combat ability.
This...
Was the privilege of a protagonist.
A protagonist who couldn’t defeat stronger enemies...
Who couldn’t fight across realms...
Who couldn’t perform impossible miracles when cornered...
Could hardly be called a true protagonist at all.
Steffan suddenly roared.
"If you think numbers alone can defeat me..."
"Then you’re dreaming!"
Boom!
A powerful wave of aura erupted from his body.
His clothes fluttered violently as spiritual energy surged around him.
The nearest bodyguards instinctively stepped backward under the immense pressure.
"Be careful!"
One of the Ashbourne enforcers shouted.
"Don’t give him any breathing room!"
Liza nodded.
"We keep rotating attacks."
"He can’t block forever."
Lina’s purple eyes remained locked on Steffan.
"Drive him toward the wall."
"I’ll cut off his escape."
Without another word, the four launched another coordinated assault.
The first enforcer attacked head-on, throwing a heavy punch that carried tremendous force.
Steffan met it with his own fist.
Boom!
The collision echoed like thunder.
Shockwaves rippled through the hallway.
Before Steffan could recover—
Liza appeared at his blind spot.
Her small frame moved like flowing darkness.
She drove a palm strike toward his ribs.
Steffan twisted at the last second.
The strike grazed his side instead of landing cleanly.
Even so...
The impact sent a sharp ache through his body.
"Tch..."
Steffan clicked his tongue.
Lina immediately followed.
Her long green hair flowed behind her as she unleashed a rapid combination of kicks.
One...
Two...
Three...
Steffan blocked the first.
Dodged the second.
But the third struck his shoulder with a heavy thud.
Bang!
He staggered backward half a step.
The second enforcer seized the opening instantly.
His elbow descended like a falling hammer.
Steffan narrowly slipped aside.
The elbow smashed into the marble floor instead.
Crack!
Stone fragments exploded in every direction.
For several minutes...
The fierce exchange continued without pause.
Every movement was calculated.
Every strike was lethal.
Punches collided with palms.
Legs crossed in rapid exchanges.
The four attackers constantly rotated positions, refusing to let Steffan regain control of the fight.
Even someone as experienced as Steffan gradually found himself forced onto the defensive.
Standing calmly on the staircase overlooking the battle...
Julian D’Aurelius quietly observed the entire scene.
His hands remained tucked casually inside his coat pockets.
Watching Steffan withstand the relentless assault of four Gold Realm experts, he couldn’t help clicking his tongue.
"What incredible combat instincts..."
"You’re living up to your reputation."
Around the battlefield, dozens of armed bodyguards stood with pistols raised.
Yet none of them dared fire.
Steffan moved far too quickly.
The four fighters stayed locked in close combat.
One careless shot could strike an ally instead.
The bodyguards could only retreat several steps while maintaining their aim.
They had become spectators.
Julian smiled faintly.
"It looks like..."
"I’ll have to give our protagonist a little more pressure."
He slowly began descending the staircase.
Each step echoed clearly throughout the hall.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap.
His pace was leisurely.
Almost relaxed.
It was as though victory had already been decided.
The confident footsteps echoed across the silent battlefield.
Julian’s golden eyes settled calmly upon Steffan.
Then he spoke.
His voice wasn’t loud...
Yet everyone heard it clearly.
"Steffan."
He smiled faintly.
"Today..."
"Is the day you die."
The words struck Steffan harder than any fist.
His expression changed immediately.
Only then did he notice Julian walking down the staircase.
His heart sank.
Until now...
He had devoted every ounce of concentration to surviving the combined assault of the four experts.
He hadn’t even realized Julian had been watching the entire battle.
Now...
The true threat had appeared.
Steffan’s pupils narrowed.
"Damn it..."
One Julian was already enough to force him into an all-out battle.
Now he had to face Julian...
After exhausting himself against four opponents.
How am I supposed to win?
For the first time since the battle began...
Doubt appeared in his heart.
And in a battle between masters...
A single moment of distraction could decide life or death.
Lina noticed it instantly.
Her beautiful eyes flashed.
"Now!"
She accelerated without hesitation.
Her body blurred across the battlefield.
Whoosh!
Her powerful kick swept directly toward Steffan’s groin.
Steffan’s instincts exploded into action.
His entire body shifted forward just enough to avoid a direct hit.
The attack narrowly missed its original target...
But—
Bang!
Her heel slammed squarely into his backside.
The unexpected impact knocked Steffan several steps forward.
"Damn you!"
Steffan roared.
Before he could regain his footing—
Liza struck first.
Her blade flashed like silver lightning.
Slash!
A shallow cut appeared across Steffan’s shoulder.
The first enforcer’s fist followed immediately.
Boom!
It crashed into Steffan’s abdomen.
The second enforcer drove a heavy kick into his ribs.
Bang!
Lina rushed in again.
Her palm struck his chest.
Another punch.
Another elbow.
Another kick.
Their attacks flowed together seamlessly.
Previously...
Steffan had barely managed to maintain equilibrium.
But because of that single glance toward Julian...
The balance collapsed.
He suffered blow after blow.
At least a dozen heavy punches landed across his body.
Two swift slashes from Liza’s blades tore through his clothing, leaving fresh wounds behind.
Blood slowly stained his shirt.
His breathing became ragged.
Every muscle screamed in protest.
Yet what weighed on him even more than the pain...
Was Julian.
Step after step...
Julian continued descending the staircase with his hands resting comfortably inside his pockets.
He wasn’t rushing.
He wasn’t anxious.
His calm confidence made every measured footstep feel unbearably oppressive.
Each echo...
Felt as though it were stamping directly onto Steffan’s heart.
For the first time in his entire life...
The legendary Martial Art King of the Farlands...
Felt true despair.