Rerbun was ecstatic, convinced that slaying the naive young oni would propel him into the ranks of an Intimidate Berserker. Berserkers, notorious for their ability to unleash a frenzy of rage, experienced a staggering amplification of their strength, power, and mana during these moments of fury. Their relentless assaults, executed with utter disregard for their own safety, transformed them into fearsome warriors, instilling terror in the hearts of many.

As Alonso observed Rerbun's twisted grin, he let out a weary sigh and declared, "Let us take this outside." He turned to one of the barmaids, his voice steady and calm. "You there, bear witness to this confrontation. It shall serve as my entrance test for the adventurer's rank."

Without awaiting a response, Alonso strode purposefully toward the door, determined to avoid causing damage to the guild hall during their duel. Rerbun, fully grasping Alonso's intent, followed closely behind, a growing crowd of onlookers trailing in anticipation. Many had already made up their minds, certain that Rerbun would emerge victorious, but their curiosity compelled them to see how the battle would unfold.

As the spectators gathered outside, forming a wide circle around the two, one of the barmaids leaned closer to another, her voice laced with urgency. "Oi! You'd best run and fetch the guild master before this all goes pear-shaped!"

Rerbun lifted his massive greatsword, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Too late for regrets, mate," he taunted, charging at Alonso with terrifying speed. The blade arced downward, aimed straight for Alonso's torso in a deadly strike.

With a calmness that belied the danger, Alonso merely sidestepped, narrowly evading the lethal swing. Rerbun grunted, using the momentum from his missed attack to thrust the sword toward Alonso's neck, aiming for a piercing blow. Yet, Alonso shifted slightly, dodging once more with seemingly effortless grace.

Frustration began to creep into Rerbun's demeanor as he ramped up his assault. He unleashed a relentless flurry of attacks—slashes from every conceivable angle: horizontal, vertical, and thrusts—but each strike was met with Alonso's deft evasions. The crowd, which had been murmuring in excitement, now fell into stunned silence as they witnessed Alonso elude fifty consecutive strikes with minimal movement.

Panting heavily, Rerbun felt the weight of exhaustion settling in, sweat pouring down his brow. Finally, Alonso, his voice dripping with disdain, spoke. "Is this all you possess? A mere jest. You cannot land a single blow, and yet you wield a weapon. What a farce you are."

Veins bulged on Rerbun's forehead as rage consumed him. In an instant, his Berserker Mode activated, a red aura enveloping his body, swirling around him like a tempest. The ground beneath him cracked under the sheer pressure of his unleashed power, but Alonso stood undaunted, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of ages.

Gasps echoed among the spectators, a wave of horror sweeping through the crowd. Whispers filled the air. "That kid just pissed off a Berserker... He's done for."

One onlooker nervously murmured, "He might've agitated him on purpose... but that's a death wish."

With a thunderous roar, Rerbun raised his greatsword high, channeling all his fury into a devastating strike aimed directly at Alonso. The blade came crashing down, splitting the earth beneath him and sending debris flying. A cloud of dust erupted into the air, obscuring the battlefield.

As the dust began to settle, the crowd stared in shock. Rerbun stood amidst the destruction, but Alonso was nowhere to be seen.

Confused, Rerbun whirled around, only to hear Alonso's calm voice emanating from behind him. "Ah, I see now. When you enter that rage-fueled state, your strength amplifies, yet your judgment falters. I cannot help but wonder—what are the consequences of wielding such power? Surely you cannot maintain this for long. That red aura, while impressive, seems to be tearing your muscles apart. Should I merely keep dodging, victory shall inevitably be mine."

The crowd murmured in astonishment. Alonso had not only seen through Rerbun's display of strength but had also deduced its inherent weaknesses within moments. His perception was far beyond what anyone had anticipated, earning him newfound respect and trepidation from those watching.

"But that would be a rather mundane way to achieve victory," Alonso continued, his tone steady and wise. "So, I suppose I shall now engage you in earnest."

With a sudden surge of speed, Rerbun charged at Alonso again, his red aura igniting his sword with lethal intent. He swung with all his might, the air crackling with energy. Yet, with an effortless grace that belied the intensity of the moment, Alonso caught Rerbun's sword in one hand, a loud crack reverberating through the air.

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The crowd was left dumbfounded, their mouths agape in disbelief. Rerbun, fueled by his berserker rage and all his strength, found himself utterly unable to budge his weapon from Alonso's unyielding grip. Alonso's strength surpassed anything they had dared to imagine.

Alonso activated his Cryokinesis, a power rooted in pure science rather than magic. Unlike most abilities in this world, which required the use of mana, Alonso's cryokinetic manipulation relied solely on his understanding of temperature and pressure. It was only when he embraced his Ice Titan form that he would tap into the realm of magic.

In mere moments, Rerbun's massive greatsword was encased in a thick layer of ice, the chilling cold creeping ominously up toward his hand. Panic surged through Rerbun as he realized what was happening. He attempted to release the sword, but it was too late. With a deafening crack, the blade shattered into thousands of jagged pieces upon striking the ground, the remnants scattering like shards of glass.

The onlookers gasped in horror, disbelief etched across their faces. The greatsword, forged from solid steel, had disintegrated as if it were made of mere crystal. What astounded them further was the fact that Alonso had wielded no visible magic or mana while performing this feat. Even those blessed with divine abilities emitted a distinct mana signature when activating their powers, but Alonso stood apart, his presence devoid of any such energy. This baffling display left the crowd in a state of confusion, whispering among themselves as they tried to comprehend the nature of his extraordinary abilities.

Even in his berserk state, Rerbun couldn't suppress the creeping fear as he stared into Alonso's calm, calculating eyes. His rage flickered, uncertainty gnawing at him. Alonso observed the change and inwardly chuckled. If he's already this shaken, I wonder how he'd react to my Ice Titan form?

The red aura surrounding Rerbun began to flicker and fade, the aftermath of his berserker mode hitting him hard. His body trembled with exhaustion, muscles aching from the overexertion. He collapsed to his knees, gasping. "Oi, please… spare me," Rerbun stammered, his voice thick with desperation. "I'll give ya anythin'—just name it, mate."

Alonso raised an eyebrow, his gaze unwavering and cold. His voice was calm, almost ageless, as though imparting wisdom from centuries of experience. "You speak of mercy, yet you initiated this conflict. A warrior must always be prepared for the consequences of his actions. If you are willing to take a life, then you must be equally prepared to forfeit your own."

Rerbun's face drained of color, panic seeping into his heart. He realized the enormity of his mistake, regret washing over him like a wave. Desperately, in a final act of defiance, Rerbun charged at Alonso, but the attempt was pitiful—more a display of fear than strength.

Before Rerbun could react, Alonso moved with terrifying speed. In the blink of an eye, he drove his fist deep into Rerbun's gut, the sheer force of the punch sending a visible shockwave through his body. Rerbun gasped, choking on his breath as his legs buckled beneath him, but Alonso didn't relent. With the precision of a trained predator, Alonso followed up with a barrage of lightning-fast strikes, each one harder than the last.

Rerbun barely had time to register the hits before Alonso's knuckles smashed into his face with brutal force. His cheekbones caved under the assault, his nose snapped sideways, and blood sprayed into the air. A final, bone-shattering uppercut lifted Rerbun clean off the ground, his body flailing like a ragdoll as he was sent crashing into the dirt. His back hit the ground hard, the impact jarring through his entire frame, and blood spilled from his mouth as he coughed violently, gasping for air.

Rerbun lay sprawled, a broken shell of the arrogant fighter he once was. His vision blurred as he looked up at Alonso, towering above him like an executioner. Alonso's expression was cold, utterly devoid of mercy, his piercing eyes locked on Rerbun without a hint of emotion. The sight of him—the calm, unshaken force of destruction—sent chills through the crowd.

Veteran adventurers, hardened by battle, felt a primal fear creep into their bones. They had seen killers before, but Alonso was different. His movements, precise and unfeeling, spoke of someone who didn't just fight to win—he fought to destroy.

Alonso, with the slightest gesture, channeled his cryokinetic power once again. His hand radiated an icy mist as he formed a glimmering ice katana, its razor edges gleaming ominously in the dim light. The blade hummed with cold energy, reflecting the sheer lethal intent behind it. He raised it slowly, deliberately, the blade poised directly over Rerbun's neck.

Rerbun's body trembled as he looked up at the shimmering ice weapon. Fear gripped his heart; this was no longer a fight—this was an execution. The overwhelming realization washed over him. His pride, his arrogance—all of it crumbled in an instant.

"Wait! Wait!" he croaked, his voice a desperate rasp. "Please... I'll give ya anythin' ya want... spare me life!"

Alonso's gaze didn't waver, the plea for mercy falling on deaf ears. His voice, ancient and cold as ice itself, broke the silence. "When you start a fight, you must be prepared for its end. A life taken requires yours as payment. That is balance."

Rerbun's face drained of color as Alonso tightened his grip on the ice katana, the cold creeping from the blade as if it thirsted for blood. The tension in the air was palpable. The crowd stood frozen in place, unable to tear their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them.

"Is this man mad?" someone in the crowd whispered, their voice filled with panic. "Doesn't he know who Rerbun's father is? If he kills him, he's a dead man!"

Alonso's expression remained indifferent to the crowd's murmurs. Without hesitation, he swung the ice blade down, intent on ending Rerbun's life. The sword arced through the air with deadly precision, the cold edge slicing toward its target. But just before it connected, an unexpected crack rang out—the ice katana shattered into a thousand frozen shards, scattering across the ground in a dazzling display of icy fragments.