"Look at them. They're just like animals."
The high-ranking soldiers in charge of the city's security—the cultivators—couldn't help laughing at the miners' animalistic work inside the tavern. Most of them were only in the Beginning Realm, yet they had such swagger.
"But they have a lot of money. It's amazing how long they can keep money in their pockets," said one of the belly dancers. She had a sensual smile on her face. She was very sexy. She had full breasts and a protruding rear end. Approaching her, calling to her, was like making a deal with the devil. Because of her, who knows how many miners lost their lives for absurd reasons? Why was she still in the tavern? No one knew.
Moura was the tavern owner, and the man who wiped the glasses was the bartender. He was the only one who could approach her without hesitation.
He was quite big. Even Bolt looked like a small child next to him. He had his black hair tied back. He had a stubble beard and an unevenly trimmed mustache. He looked more like a miner than the miners did.
They were all watching the door. They could hear what was happening by listening to the voices. But they hadn't heard anything worth acting on.
"I challenge."
Until that moment.
A boy with a walking stick slowly walked towards the crowd. As Kasuur looked at him in surprise, Mais whispered to Kasuur in a voice too low for anyone in the crowd to hear.
"Here's your chance to win gold."
People were ready to make fun of a child's voice, but when they saw the child, they stopped. He was blind. He had gray eyes and a sword wound on his face. It was a miracle that he had survived. It must have hurt a lot. Yet he was still alive. They respected him.
I would have said the same. If only they had a little more empathy!
"Haha! Nice muscles, kid! Not bad for a kid!"
"Hey, you better be a cultivator, kid! Or this guy's gonna rip your arm off!"
"This is going to be the fight of your life, Bolt! Show some guts against a blind kid!"
Bolt was enraged. Mais was happy and smiling.
He hadn't been in public for a long time. He had forgotten this feeling. It excited him.
"Are you ready for the biggest shame of your life, old man?"
Even Kasuur was surprised to see the smile on Mais' face. This wasn't confidence. He was undoubtedly superior to this man, so what made him happy here? To humiliate this man?
No.
Any reminder that he existed was a source of joy for Mais.
The crowd parted and Mais stepped through them and made his way to the table. It was brown and at least ten centimeters thick. It was big enough for these muscular men to rest their arms on it. Mais sat down at the table. The table was so high that the edge he had to rest his arm on almost reached his chin. Seeing this, the crowd started laughing hysterically.
"Haha! This kid is for real! He's so short he can't reach the table!"
"Bolt, are you really going to accept the challenge?! It'd be humiliating to fight a kid! What if you rip his arm off?"
"What are you worried about? Haha! The kid is doing this on purpose! Why is he here if he's not a cultivator? If he's a cultivator, his arm won't break so easily! He'll learn a lesson about the world!"
Mais stood up on the chair, relieved to realize that this way he could put his arm on the table. The people around him looked like giants. They looked like monsters. Their laughter was loud and terrible. The red-haired man in front of him had an even more terrifying serious gaze. But at that moment, in front of everyone, Mais was still smiling. He didn't see any of these looks. He didn't care about any of the laughter.
'How can you stand under this pressure?'
Kasuur knew how strong Mais was, but his mind was already lost in the barbaric behavior of these adults. The adults thought Mais would learn a lesson, but Mais thought Kasuur would.
He wanted him to see people for who they really were. They might not be as fun as they seemed.
"I am a cultivator!"
These were the words that told him he was not afraid. Kasuur had to follow Mais' words and walk through the cruel world, accepting killing, but he had to live justly. He must never lose his balance. Mais was trying to do that, but sometimes Kasuur felt lost.
Bolt raised his head and stretched his arm forward amid the clowns. He rested his elbow on the table and opened his palm. Suddenly, a crazy smile appeared on his face.
"Then I accept your challenge!"
Mais was a giant in front of him. Everyone else was intimidated by their appearance, but this boy was able to challenge them. He could be disrespectful to a child, but never to a cultivator.
"Come, old man!"
Hands joined. The scrawny referee looked at the arm-wrestling boy in surprise. A moment later, with a bitter smile on his face, he joined the hands of the two cultivators.
The next moment, all the claims were complete. The odds were 50 to 1.
It was surprising that the odds were even that low. After all, one person was a miner in the Origin Energy Realm who had devoted years to the mines, while the other was just a nine-year-old boy. How much progress could he have made? Even if they were at the same level, it was common knowledge that older people were much stronger.
"3, 2, 1, go!"
TATAM!
With a clash of palms, the power adventure began. The miners bellowed like animals. Even the chubby, green-haired boy with the white sword, who stood out in a corner, went unnoticed. Kasuur clasped his hands together and watched curiously and anxiously.
He knew there was nothing to see. But he wondered how things would turn out later.
"Haha! How can a boy like you beat me?"
Bolt said these words as he increased the pressure on Mais. Some of the miners slapped him on the back in support. It looked like Bolt was going to win easily.
CRACK!
But at that moment, his short journey to victory came to an end. He could no longer move his arm. The miners didn't notice, but Bolt did. His face turned white. He raised his head and looked at the boy. He saw the boy grinning at him. But his pupils weren't looking at him. They were straight ahead. The boy was looking into the infinite distance.
"Using the origin energy will offer you no salvation. You should have realized from the beginning that you had no chance."
This man's physical strength from old age and mining did not impress Mais as much as it did his peers. Children's bodies found it difficult to develop, but the Empire certainly had a way of doing that. Mais's body was not so weak as to succumb to the sub-levels of miners, though not as much as these men who had devoted years to it. Kasuur was worried, not understanding the extent of the difference.
The worries died down soon enough, though.
Instead, Mais silenced everyone.
The bustling tavern front, which had resembled a zoo, fell silent. Everyone was silent. Kasuur looked at Mais and Bolt in amazement. So did the miners.
The boy who was supposed to announce the winner seemed to have nothing to say.
Mais had won. Bolt's right hand was stuck in the wooden table. Mais's origin energy was used so quickly and skillfully that there was no time to measure its power.
"W-w-w-winner—"
"Bullshit!"
CRACK!
Suddenly, Bolt pulled his hand out and balled it into a fist. In front of everyone, he smashed the table with his left fist and pulled his right fist back. Anger on his face, he took a step forward. With all his might, he swung his fist straight at the blind boy.
He looked like an unstoppable bull!