The judge slowly turned his head, feeling the weight of a hand placed upon his shoulder. As his eyes shifted, they locked onto Armad’s gaze. Armad, who was standing there, displayed no visible emotion. Their eyes met, and Armad simply gave the judge a nod. The judge’s mouth fell open in astonishment, wondering how Armad had managed to arrive unnoticed. However, what puzzled him even more was why Armad had chosen this particular moment to make his appearance. If Armad was going to come, why hadn’t he waited until the audience had thinned out? It would have been easier for him to endure the inevitable humiliation with fewer witnesses. Yet now that Armad had already appeared, the judge had no means of reducing the audience.
Armad, perceptive as ever, had already deciphered the judge’s thoughts from his facial expressions, but he chose to remain silent. Without a word, he moved forward with purpose.
On the other hand, Prince Sufa turned his head, arrogantly stroking his beard. He did not even glance toward the door where the judge and Armad stood. His sole focus was on the ongoing conversation between the judge who accompanied him and the judge representing Armad. However, at that precise moment, something caught his attention, compelling him to turn quickly. As soon as his gaze fell upon Armad, his face contorted into a frown. He had not sensed Armad’s arrival, not even a hint. It was as if Armad had materialized out of thin air. Moreover, Sufa observed that his brother had transformed. Armad had not grown taller, and his skin remained unchanged, still as Sufa thought Armad had changed. If Sufa had come a few weeks earlier, he might have noticed a difference in his skin, but now it had returned to its usual state. Despite this, Sufa felt an undeniable change in his brother.
After scrutinizing Armad for a moment, Sufa sensed a shift in his brother’s cultivation. While Armad’s cultivation had indeed increased, he was still at the core formation level, not yet reaching the pre-deva stage. Although Armad’s cultivation is over 9,500 years old, Sufa understood that the sheer number of years was not the critical factor. What truly mattered was the foundation of one’s cultivation, especially for the Wilberforce tribesmen. They had the unique ability to amplify their cultivation levels rapidly within a short period, whenever they desired.
Sufa remembers that even in the past, when he used to outshine his brother Armad in a duel, Armad had surpassed him in terms of cultivation years by a substantial margin—up to 2,000 years. Now, although Armad’s years of cultivation exceed 9,500, while Sufa has only accumulated 7,500 years, Sufa still does not feel intimidated by the prospect of facing his brother. What truly unsettles him is the inexplicable change he perceives in Armad. This change isn’t rooted in cultivation or physical prowess, and Sufa is at a loss to understand its origin. If it isn’t from cultivation or physical improvement, why does he sense this profound difference in his brother?
As Sufa delves into these thoughts, his preoccupation causes him to miss the opportunity to confront his brother, Armad, or even acknowledge him until Armad is directly in front of him. Armad approaches with a composed demeanor, smiling slightly without revealing his teeth. He speaks with an air of authority, “Sufa, you arrived in my town yesterday and have been speaking nonsense despite my explicit instructions for a proper welcome. Can’t you see that your actions are bringing disgrace to the Wilberforce tribe? If you seek training from me, you should come and bow before me, humbly requesting my guidance. Even if it takes a day or two, I will not refuse to teach you because our father decreed it. However, in public, you have behaved in such a way that you nearly incited conflict among respected judges. Can’t you see how shameful this is? If word of your behavior reaches the capital city of Wilberforce, how do you think the major tribes will perceive us? Don’t you realize this could tarnish your virtue? The young women you hope to marry will lose respect for you.”
These are the first statements made by Armad, and he feels a sense of satisfaction in delivering them. However, Prince Sufa is far from pleased upon hearing his brother’s words. Armad’s remarks ignite a deep-seated fury within him as if they are a stark reminder of past humiliations and failures. It is in this moment of anger and reflection that Sufa finally comprehends the change in his brother. The transformation is not in Armad’s physical form or his years of cultivation; it lies in the newfound courage and self-assurance that Armad now exudes. Previously, Armad could never muster the confidence to look Sufa directly in the eye. Though he didn't bow his head in submission, he also didn't stand straight and tall to confront him. Instead, he maintained a hesitant posture, unable to meet his gaze directly.
Even when they stood face to face, it was always Sufa who appeared more confident, standing straight and tall. Sufa exuded an aura of boldness and confidence, despite being the younger sibling. This disparity in their demeanors had long been a source of friction. However, the dynamics between them had undergone a significant change. Prince Armad, who once looked uncertain and subdued, now stood with unwavering confidence. His head was held high as he faced Sufa, his gaze steady and determined.
No longer could anyone dare to claim that Sufa, the younger brother, appeared more confident or charismatic. Charisma, after all, often stems from a combination of knowledge and power. Prince Sufa found himself puzzled, unable to comprehend the source of his brother’s newfound charisma. He knew it wasn’t knowledge, as knowledge was predominantly concentrated in the capital city of Wilberforce. Those residing outside the capital had limited access to the vast reservoirs of wisdom and information available there.
This led Sufa to a troubling realization. Could it be that the cultivation Armad had got, which had propelled him to the brink of the pre-deva level, was the secret behind his newfound boldness? This cultivation had granted Armad the strength and courage to stand before Sufa with such audacity and deliver those confronting words.
Sufa clenched his teeth in frustration. His initial impulse was to retaliate with harsh words, to lash out at his brother and reassert his dominance. However, he quickly recognized that this was not the most effective way to handle the situation. Words alone would not suffice. The right way to retaliate was to challenge Armad to a duel, to defeat him publicly and unequivocally, thereby reestablishing his superiority. His eyes scanned the area, and he spotted a field a little distance away. He then turned his gaze back to his brother, his eyes filled with determination.
“Armad,” Sufa declared, his voice steady and commanding, “I think this place is sufficient for the training session you’ve been talking about. I don’t believe it will take more than an hour. Ten or twenty minutes should be enough for you to teach me whatever it is you intend to.”
Even before Sufa finished speaking, the soldiers accompanying him had already moved to the designated area. They efficiently cleared the space, pushing back Armad’s soldiers and forming a circular training ground. The area was quickly transformed into a suitable arena for their confrontation.
Armad simply shook his head, a slight smile playing on his lips. It was clear that his younger siblings still harbored the same misconceptions about him. They continued to see him as the Armad they could easily look down upon. However, Armad knew that this was about to change. This confrontation would mark the beginning of a new era. It was an opportunity to demonstrate that the Prince Armad they once knew was gone. The new Armad would not tolerate any form of disrespect without swift and decisive action.
Armad felt a surge of satisfaction. He was ready to show his siblings that he had transformed, that he was no longer the figure of ridicule they once knew. This duel would serve as a stark warning: the old Armad had perished, and in his place stood a prince who demanded respect and commanded authority.
Based on the Wilburforce Ethics, it is considered improper for Sufa to call his elder brother, Armad, by his first name. Instead, Sufa should address him as "Big Brother" or simply "Prince" to show the appropriate respect to his elder sibling. However, before Armad departed from the capital city, his younger siblings would often call him by his real name. The elite within the Wilberforce Palace did not take any punitive action against this behavior. They viewed it as an opportunity to subtly warn Armad of his need to assert his authority and rise above his younger siblings in terms of power and influence. This lack of intervention was strategic, serving to motivate Armad. Even their father, Emperor Ayrion, chose not to intervene, understanding the underlying purpose of this approach. Armad's mother and her family also refrained from taking any steps, as they were fully aware of the rationale behind the decree. Ultimately, the blame for any disrespect fell upon Prince Armad and what was perceived as his inability to command respect.
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Armad recognized that the only way to truly teach his younger siblings a lesson was to defeat them decisively in a duel. Driven by this realization, he removed the royal attire he wore over his clothes and handed it to the judge for safekeeping. The judge accepted the attire, and although his facial expression remained stoic, the slight trembling of his hands betrayed the fear he felt. Despite the courage and determination he had recently observed in Armad, the judge remained skeptical about Armad's chances of triumphing over Sufa. Nonetheless, it was unfair to blame the judge for his skepticism, given the events that had transpired previously.
With determination, Armad walked steadily towards the dueling field. By the time he arrived, his brother Sufa was already there, waiting. Sufa had not bothered to remove his attire and stood with a casual demeanor, his hands loosely positioned as if he needed only a single finger to defeat Armad. His face radiated arrogance, clearly indicating that he did not view his brother as a serious threat. Before Armad reached the field, Sufa had squeezed the sleeves of his attire and placed his hands on his chest, a posture more suited to a casual conversation than a duel.
"The first lesson I will teach you is to respect your elders," Armad declared with conviction. As he finished speaking, he pointed a finger directly at his brother.
From the tip of his finger, a concentrated bolt of lightning emanated. This bolt, swirling with raw power, was designed to withstand the full force of Armad’s attack. Armad spared no effort in this assault. He chose not to deploy his Miyura. Instead, he invoked his Word of Nagirinki, which enhanced the power of his attack by up to 15%. Initially, this small but intense bolt of lightning, despite its modest size, carried the energy equivalent to 9,500 years of cultivation. However, with the amplification from the Word of Nagirinki, the power surged, approaching the formidable strength of 12,000 years of cultivation.
Armad observed the scene with confidence, convinced that his brother, Prince Sufa, would find it exceedingly difficult to fend off this attack. Armad’s certainty stemmed from his knowledge of Sufa’s cultivation level, which was at the eighth stage of core formation. Sufa had not yet ascended to the ninth stage. Even if Sufa had been concealing his true cultivation level, Armad was confident that his brother could not have surpassed the ninth stage or reached the peak of core formation.
The concentrated bolt of lightning shot forward with incredible speed, zeroing in on Prince Sufa. In response, Prince Sufa swiftly raised his hand, summoning a defensive measure. A white magical wall materialized in front of him, initially no thicker than the width of his palm. But Sufa did not stop there; before he could lower his hand, he conjured another wall behind the first, followed by another, and another, until five magical walls stood in succession, each one reinforcing the defenses of the previous.
The bolt of lightning collided with the first magical wall, but the barrier offered no resistance. The lightning pierced through it effortlessly, causing Sufa’s expression to change dramatically. His face darkened with concern as he watched the second and third walls shatter in rapid succession. Although the successive barriers managed to diminish the lightning’s power incrementally, the fourth wall only managed to hold for three seconds before it too disintegrated under the relentless assault. The fifth and final wall held out slightly longer, managing to stall the lightning for six seconds before it finally succumbed to the devastating energy.
Despite the valiant effort of the magical walls, the bolt of lightning continued its advance towards Prince Sufa. The defenses had slowed the attack just enough that Sufa could have evaded it. However, he stood frozen, perhaps paralyzed by the sheer unexpectedness and disbelief of the situation. The shock of witnessing his strongest defenses crumble before him left him immobile, unable to react in time to the approaching danger.
Does that mean his elder brother has truly reached the level of deva? It has only been a year and a half since he left the capital city. Achieving the level of a deva requires a significant amount of time, regardless of how quickly one progresses. This is because the barrier between the core formation level and the pre-deva level is notoriously difficult to break through. Even in the capital city of Wilberforce, it takes many years for someone to overcome this barrier. However, as Sufa observes with his own eyes, the attack his brother, Armad, launched against him carries the power of over eleven years of cultivation. This indicates that the attack has reached the first stage of the deva level.
Sufa is acutely aware that Armad possesses the ability to use his Miyura to amplify the power of his attacks. Due to this, even before he arrived at the dual ground, Sufa had already placed a pol string on Armad’s Miyura. This precaution allows him to detect any power that might emanate from Armad’s Miyura to boost his attacks. Consequently, before Armad can utilize his Miyura, Sufa can use his pol string to prevent its activation or even send the string inside Armad’s core to bind his cultivation. This is why Sufa was not initially concerned about the attack. However, now he realizes more clearly than anyone else that his brother did not employ his Miyura. He sees with his own eyes that the Miyura showed no sign of activation. How then did his brother manage to launch an attack that exceeds the level of his cultivation?
While Sufa is deep in contemplation, the lightning that his brother launched against him strikes his chest. He is pushed back by about four steps before he manages to stop. The part of his attire where the lightning struck is already burned. The lightning also seared his chest, causing blood to drip from the wound. Despite the toughness of his body, thanks to his bloodline and rigorous training, it still burned his skin. However, he did not sustain any serious injury, and his bones remained intact. He feels pain, but the shock and frustration he experiences overshadow the physical pain. His attention is entirely focused on the burned attire caused by his brother’s attack.
Sufa opens his mouth furiously and addresses Armad, “Do you know what you have done? Do you truly understand the gravity of your actions? You raised your hand and used a skill to injure me, Prince Sufa. You inflicted harm upon me and drew blood from my body. Are you fully aware of the consequences of what you have done?”
Anyone who listened to Prince Sufa’s speech could discern the arrogance it carried. His demeanor was reminiscent of an elephant agitated by the sting of an ant. Initially, Sufa had no intention of inflicting serious harm on Armad, as his primary mission was to deliver a message. He was cautious, not wanting any unfavorable rumors to make their way back to the capital or, worse, reach the ears of their father. His objective was merely to chastise his brother for the perceived slight of not coming to welcome him, teaching him a minor lesson before releasing him. Over time, Sufa had lost any sense of satisfaction or pleasure from humiliating his brother. As the saying goes, actions repeated one or two times lose their novelty and impact. Since he had already bested his brother in duels multiple times, showcasing the disparity in their powers, he no longer derived any enjoyment from such acts. However, a burning desire for revenge now fueled him. His role as a messenger had been completely overshadowed by this resurgence of childhood jealousy and rivalry.
Prince Sufa stands out as one of the exceptional offspring of Emperor Ayrion who mastered the skill of pole string before the age of 15. His name is already immortalized in the annals of history. Indeed, he is a paragon of the Wilburforce bloodline, a name that will be revered and spoken of for generations, even long after his passing. Yet today, it is he whose attire lies in tatters, scorched by flames, a humiliation inflicted upon him by none other than his brother. This brother, Armad, is often deemed one of the least remarkable members of the Wilberforce lineage, making the situation even more galling.
Armad, on the other hand, opened his mouth as if to respond, but after a brief pause, he merely sighed and shook his head in resignation. He realized that individuals like Sufa, who are steeped in arrogance, only comprehend the language of brute force. Such individuals need to be beaten so thoroughly that they can no longer deny the reality before them. It is only through such decisive actions that they can be made to understand the stark differences between themselves and others. With this resolution in mind, Armad raised his finger once more and unleashed another attack, determined to drive home the lesson that mere words could not convey.