Anwir sighed softly as he opened his eyes.
He didn’t know how long he had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, but at this time, it was something he didn’t bother to care about.
Raising his right hand, he channeled the Martial Technique that his sworn brother had imparted to him.
A moment later, his right hand was covered by a black flame, making him arch an eyebrow.
‘I see… so this is the upgraded version of Emperor’s Might,’ Anwir thought as he felt the influx of power that was circulating around his body.
But before he could truly appreciate his newfound power, a loud shout reached his ears, making him look in the direction of the door.
‘What did that little step brother of mine do this time?’ Anwir mused as he left Thirteen’s room to see the commotion that was happening.
“Fight me!”
Percival’s shout spread inside the cavern.
“Fight me, and if I win, you will give me back my freedom!” Percival pointed a finger at the seven-year-old, who was looking back at him with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Fight you?” Thirteen asked in disdain. “Are you serious?”
“Fight me!” Percival growled. “Coward!”
The Wanderers and the Tigerkins, who were resting after their battle, looked at Percival and thought that he was out of his mind.
Even the Mercenaries couldn’t help but look at him in contempt. For them, the scene playing was like an adult bullying a child.
Percival was already an Adept, and the seven-year-old wasn’t even a Rookie.
“Oi, can you stop making others look down on our race?” one of the Tigerkin Mercenary Leaders, who had a good impression of Thirteen, commented. “You’re making us all look bad.”
The other Tigerkins nodded their heads at the same time because they also thought that Percival’s behavior was very shameless.
But before Percival could even tell the Mercenary Leader to shut up, a familiar voice reached his ears.
“Why don’t you accept his challenge, Zion?” Anwir, who had already arrived behind the younger boy said. “That way, he will understand his place.”
A sigh escaped Thirteen’s lips before he nodded his head.
“Fine,” Thirteen replied. “So, if you win, you will regain your freedom. But, what if I win?”
“Then I will become your slave!” Percival answered.
“But, you are already my slave.”
“No! I might be your slave, but I do not recognize you as my Master. If you win, I promise that I will no longer defy you. You can order me until this Slave Mark disappears naturally.”
Another sigh escaped the younger boy’s lips, but he still nodded his head.
“Fine,” Thirteen glanced at his Father, Gerald, and the latter looked at him with a frown on his face.
Clearly, Gerald could see that the Tigerkin was stronger than his son, and he was worried that he might seriously get injured if the two of them were to fight with each other.
“We will fight three hours from now,” Thirteen stated before walking out of the cavern. “Until then, behave yourself.”
Having accomplished his goal, Percival sat cross-legged on the corner of the cavern to meditate.
He didn’t care what others thought about him.
The only thing that mattered was that once he regained his freedom, he could finally return to his family.
Thirteen, who was walking toward the exit of the cavern, asked Giga Chad to follow him.
“I know I was the one that asked you to fight my brother, but can you win, Zion?” Anwir asked, walking in tandem with Thirteen.
“The possibility exists,” Thirteen replied. “But I need to make some preparations beforehand.”
“What kind of preparations? If there’s anything I can help you with, just say the word.”
“Mmm.”
Once they arrived outside of the cave, Thirteen glanced at his surroundings before walking a hundred meters to the right.
When he was a good distance away, he asked Giga Chad to punch the ground where he was pointing at, creating a hole that was a foot deep.
Every spot that Thirteen pointed, the Chad Skunk punched without asking any questions.
In fact, Giga Chad thought that he and his Master were playing a game, so he happily did what the boy asked him to.
Anwir, who was watching from the side, didn’t know if his sworn brother was just playing around with his pet or actually preparing for the fight.
But, an hour later, it dawned to him what kind of preparation Zion was talking about earlier.
‘I see. So he is going to use this place as the arena where he will fight Percival,’ Anwir thought. ‘But all that those holes would be doing is to hinder both of their movements. Also, Tigerkins are very agile and flexible. The one who will have a disadvantage will not be my brother, but Zion.’
After he came to this realization, Anwir decided to stop the duel if Percival got carried away and seriously injured his sworn brother.
Truth be told, he was simply curious how capable Thirteen was. For the seven-year-old to grant him a Martial Technique, it proved that he wasn’t an ordinary Human boy.
Two hours later, everyone inside the cave came out to watch the duel between Percival and the younger boy, who was currently equipped with two gauntlets on his hands.
Gerald gave Zion the pseudo-silver grade bone gauntlets he crafted. They were made from the skulls of monsters that used their hard heads as a weapon to head butt their predators.
It was very lightweight yet durable at the same time. Also, it packed a punch, allowing Thirteen to use his Martial Technique, Righteous Sentinel, to its limits.
“I will serve as the referee of this match,” Gerald declared. “Any objections?”
“None,” Percival replied as he gazed at his opponent, who was busy drinking something from a flask.
“Wait, let me finish… *hic*… drinking first,” Thirteen replied as he drank an alcoholic beverage that he had crafted in his spare time.
Gerald frowned, but he didn’t stop his son from doing what he wanted. He already knew that everything Zion did had a reason, so he believed that this was part of his son’s strategy.
Percival looked at the seven-year-old in contempt, thinking that Zion was drinking so that he would take it easy on him.
However, he had no intention of doing so, especially after everything that the boy had done to him in the past.
‘Still, this arena is so annoying,’ Percival thought because there were so many holes in his surroundings. ‘Who can fight properly in this place?’
Just as he was thinking along these lines, Thirteen burped and threw his flask away, raising his hands and taking a boxer fighting stance.
“Re… *hic*… dy,” Thirteen said.
The Tigerkins couldn’t help but shake their heads as they looked at this farce.
Even Arthas and Netero couldn’t help but feel that this duel was a joke.
But there was someone who thought otherwise and was even looking forward to what was going to happen to the duel.
It was none other than the Drow, Adira, who had long wanted to see what Zion was truly capable of.
She had already acknowledged his intellect and wisdom. However, she wasn’t sure if the boy still had something else to hide.
‘I hope I see something interesting,’ Adira mused as she waited for the duel to begin.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait a long time because Gerald raised his hand and declared the start of the duel.
“Duel start!” Gerald shouted.
As soon as the signal was given, Percival lunged at Zion with a sneer on his face.
There was no way he would lose against a seven-year-old human, even if one of his hands were tied behind his back.
But at the same time that the Tigerkin lunged at him, Thirteen jumped back.
Percival was quick to adjust his attack, using his hands to tap the ground once and propelling himself upward in order to land behind the seven-year-old, whose movements were getting wobbly.
However, when he realized that the place where he was going to land had a hole in it, he immediately tried to adjust his landing to a different place.
Unfortunately, the boy made an unexpected move, arching his back like a gymnast doing the bridge, but instead of his hands touching the ground, his two gauntleted fists smacked Percival’s stomach, making the latter grunt in pain.
The Tigerkin lost his balance after he landed, making him take a few steps backward.
Unfortunately, his right foot stepped onto a hole, making him lose his balance a second time.
At that exact moment, Thirteen’s foot hit his left leg, making Percival fall on the ground.
Fearing that the seven-year-old would take that opportunity to attack him, the Tigerkin raised his guard to deflect any blow that would land on his body.
But instead of a blow, a chuckle filled with mischief reached his ears, making the proud Tigerkin’s cheeks redden in shame and embarrassment.
Percival, as well as those who were watching the duel, thought that this battle was going to be one-sided.
However, that brief exchange was enough to tell them that the winner of the duel might not be Percival, who was two ranks stronger than his opponent.