The legendary warrior

"His power's too strong!" A palpable tension sailed through whispers of quivering mouths. "A-amazing…"

The mysterious man in Blood Robe spared a spiteful glance to the onlookers. Driven still by the ominous threat that lay behind the being's scrutiny, they sealed their mouths shut in fear of offending him.

This male was not normal by any means. After all, he was none other than the incarnation of the Sacred Blood Lion.

"Welcome to Lion King Castle!"

Benson and his disciples fell to their knees in one swift movement, displaying their unwavering reverence for the spirit before them. They couldn't be more delighted to be standing on the dais as they beheld his awaited arrival.

However, the guest harbored such deep and clear hostility towards the group, that their futile attempt to plow past his indifference with the use of courtesy went ignored.

It was a fact that Ricky couldn't completely comprehend. He thought that the relationship between the subjects would be one filled with homage, what with the widespread legend of its ancestry. And yet, a disturbing truth dawned on him as he further observed the situation; humans and beasts, with their glaring differences, were just as incompatible as mixed oil and water.

If it weren't for the submissiveness of the contenders, the spirit would have started a massacre if he had felt even the slightest malicious intent drifting from one of them.

He shifted his predatory gaze to Benson's form, not bothering to hide his distaste. "Here are the three drops of blood essence from my body. Take them," he said as he regarded them coldly, stretching out his right hand to reveal his bloodstained fingertips. Three dark beads of blood slipped past the thick surface of his skin and floated towards Benson.

The receiver took out a jade bottle from his loose sleeve hastily as he prepared to catch the flying drops of liquid. He couldn't help but feel excited at the sight of it, his hands trembling with the obvious effort to stay calm.

"Thank you, my honorable Sacred Blood Lion!" Benson bowed deeply to the benevolent figure. His disciples followed his actions shortly after.

"This marks the end of the debt I once owed to your castle. From now on, expect that I will no longer be back. Your kind and mine shall never mingle again, and if ever we do--" his glare bored into them, chipping away at the chunks of metal serving as their armor. To him, it must've looked like mere toys. "--we are to meet as enemies."

He left in a trail of dark red smoke, disappearing without a trace in the open air.

It appeared that the Sacred Blood Lion was more than unwilling to pay a visit to a human's territory.

The warriors all sighed in relief at his departure, finally able to breathe at ease without the all-encompassing presence.

Then, one by one, heads snapped like magnets entranced to a piece of metal as the king held the white, delicate jade bottle that contained the blood essence. Greed reflected in their eyes, burning rays into the small object that almost seemed to melt under its intensity like wax against a white-hot flame.

No warriors in this world could've had the tenacity to resist the temptation of the rare matter.

Even so, resorting to using underhanded tactics was a taboo amongst the whole region. One must go through the Iron Blood Trial to earn such a prize; if not, they would face the wrath of the Snow Sect.

A conceited warrior of Bone Reinforcement had taken it upon him to commit such a foolish, daring act once.

quickly, and as a dire consequence, his name found its own home on the Sect's death list as a prime wanted man. Soon enough, the burglar and his accomplices' bodies had served their purposes

to oppose

into a daze the longer he stared at the bottle. He couldn't help the thirst he had for the power within his reach, but he also had questions he'd like to clarify. "Master Grace, there's something about the Trial that feels a bit... uncertain to me. As per tradition, Benson had always followed the tradition of pouring all the blood essence into the Sacred Blood Pond, but if his disciples fail in the test, what would be there for Lion King Castle to gain?" he pondered over the matter as he whispered with a childlike sense of wonder tainting the sound of his voice. "The Lion King Castle would only be doing a huge favor to the other participating sects. In my opinion, it's a deal that would only

drawn out before it's dribbled into the Scared Blood Pond?" Grace answered, rolling her

back of his neck sheepishly before flashing her an awkward smile, "Oh… Is that so?" At least now, all

to share half of the drawn percentage with our Snow Sect in exchange for our protection," she added. "Otherwise, our sect won't trouble itself with guarding this place. Having only

I'm so

having found Grace's words as a source of hope for

...

had been transferred to this bottle I hold in my hand. The Iron Blood Trial will proceed three days from now as scheduled; I hope you'd all do

shouting with glee and jubilation with his speech of

tireless bravery and conviction that lay within each warrior's fiery soul. Everyone in the area had come with an undeterred will; they were all prepared to see through any setbacks that might hinder

...

pack slowly dissipated in numbers as everyone began to leave the venue. Ricky and Grace followed suit

coming here! Don't tell me you intend to compete in the Iron Blood Trial!" Connie scoffed, speaking to Ricky in a venomous tone, while she was supported behind by the presence of a young man in

and immediately concluded that these disciples

the feeling of superior power. He felt like the first breeze of an oncoming storm; dangerous and gloomy, inevitable destruction caused by the unstoppable force of nature. Ricky bristled at the foreboding sense of feeling he got from the male, more so when he saw Grace's expression shift into one of surprises upon registering his

the annoying woman belittling

I want

Connie must've hoped to see after

seethed, sputtering at his comeback. "Grace, why did you recruit such an arrogant nominal disciple?" The man in black cut in, a faint wicked smile marring his lips. Suddenly, an enormous intent to kill gushed out and painted their atmosphere with straining pressure. It was nothing compared to the terror brought upon by the descent of the sacred being,

you have no right to judge my disciple!" Grace argued, unaffected by the

could you say such a thing? Both of us are core disciples of the Snow Sect. It's our collective duty to instruct our outer

how to act in front of his senior. I'd very much like to

you be willing to do this job

and asked, knowing full well that his question was just for the sake

surely be in

no heed to his jeers and asked him instead, "Is this young disciple of yours at the eighth grade of

don't we see for ourselves? I'll be looking forward to it," he studied Ricky in contemplation, a sneer appearing on his cruel face as he

leave it

master's final words. Ricky followed her dutifully, marching out of the place as they

...

recede into the distance, Harald went to Connie and said, "Be at ease, that bastard won't survive the trial." He whispered what he

she watched Ricky's form slowly disappear into the bustling city with obvious resentment. She wanted it so bad to kill Ricky right there and then, stopping at the right time when she realized that she was still with her companions. She promptly pulled herself back to her senses the moment she heard Harald's voice addressing her. "I'm so grateful!" She thanked him profusely with a charming smile,