He was the same age as Jalal, Mais. Although they were born close to the same time, they were born in completely different places. Mais was born in an imperial palace, the result of an endeavor that involved the expenditure of untold treasure. The best midwives on the planet delivered him. His mother was powerful enough to turn the heavens upside down. His father ruled an entire planet. His two older brothers were the best of their generation. His friends were great geniuses as well. Even his servant was exceptional.
Jalal, however, was not born in the same circumstances.
Jalal's birth caused his mother's death. His father was a miner but devoted his life to drinking, so Jalal had to work in his place. His siblings could not endure the hardships of this life. He had buried his older brother, who was two years older than him, just last month. He had no one left.
His skin was dark enough to be considered black. He was not clean. He always wore torn clothes. His face didn't show signs of being impressive in the future. In fact, he was quite ordinary, maybe even ugly.
He learned to survive in the mines. He learned that to be valuable, one had to be a cultivator. He developed himself. He was talented. He was talented enough to surprise the miners. By the age of nine, he had reached the ninth stage of the Foundation Establishment Realm. How many miners had reached this level? Not more than a handful. If he were an adult, he wouldn't have to worry about life's hardships.
But he wasn't. Even at the ninth stage of the Foundation Establishment Realm, a small child was weak. Jalal was not born with tremendous physical strength like Kasuur, nor was he trained for it like Mais. He was weak.
He agreed to referee this competition because he wanted a share of the bets. But here he was today, facing Mais. This encounter would change his destiny. He believed it would.
He wasn't as good as Mais. But they were the same age. He had never had a friend before. When he watched Mais come out bravely and fight, he didn't want to lose him.
The blow that came Mais' way was hard for many to even recognize. Mais just stood there with his staff in his hand. It was as if he hadn't noticed the punch coming. For a blind man, this would not have been surprising.
That's why Jalal rushed forward, but he was too slow. He was no match for Bolt. Bolt was an origin master.
'I can't keep up.'
Even if he could, it would only be a facade.
He looked at Mais. But when he saw him waiting, seemingly unconcerned, he hesitated. An idea came to him that seemed both absurd and logical at once.
'Maybe it's not him I should worry about.'
It was one of those absurd, impossible thoughts that come to you suddenly. Jalal didn't think it would come true.
He thought that this handsome boy, who seemed superior to him in every way, was capable of more than he realized. Still, he couldn't be sure. He wanted to reach out and grab Bolt, but he was too fast. He was too strong. How could a nine-year-old boy stop him?
TIRIRIM...!!!
That's when Jalal's hair stood on end. Some in the crowd fell, trembling. From among them, a muscular man emerged with terrifying speed. Jalal couldn't see him clearly, but he realized that the man was moving much faster than he was. The man was only two meters away from Bolt while Jalal was still behind the crowd. Yet he had already passed him. With his next step, his feet left a trail in the dirt, and his fist rose from under his chest and slammed into Bolt's.
BOOM!
The barbarian was in no position to defend himself as his fist smashed through the air at the ginger man who had leapt savagely at Mais.
'Core Realm!'
Mais had helped Maria advance through the Core Realm. Because of his background, he knew a lot about this realm. In the Core Realm, one's physical strength increases by compressing origin energy into a core and transferring it to various parts of the body. Each core is a new stage with a lifespan of around 20 years. Depending on the person and where they placed the core, the increase in physical strength would vary.
This man had created his first core near his feet.
Kasuur watched carefully from a distance. After all, he too had to choose where to create new cores. Seeing a Core Realm expert in action was not a bad idea.
Of course, we are only talking about watching, but this fat piggy with strange hair and a sword on his back was watching the core expert with his eyes so intently open that, if Mais could see his movements, he would have been shocked by the seriousness of his demeanor, which was such a contrast to his everyday casual demeanor.
Bolt flew into the air and spewed a handful of blood, landing on the remains of the table he had just smashed.
"You fucking idiot! Do you have to attack everyone? Are you just going to whine because you lost? Honor? Pride? If you lose to someone who's blind, it's your fault! Aren't you ashamed to attack someone who can't defend himself?" the core cultivator shouted.
He was a tall man who looked even more muscular than Bolt. He had a stubble beard, and his long black hair was tied behind his head. His mustache curled down to his cheeks, and he wore an apron that was quite conspicuous. Add to that the waves of origin energy he possessed, and he was like a shining star in the night sky. He didn't emit as much energy as other origin masters because his energy was trapped in the core.
'The tavern owner...'
Jalal swallowed inwardly as he thought about it. There were no other folk experts with this power.
"Disperse!"
Moura shouted, instantly setting the little pigeons in the air, which scattered to one side. Two of them approached the man lying on the ground with his chest sunken in and blood dripping from his chin. Bolt had already lost consciousness.
Only Moura, Mais, Jalal, and Kasuur were left, watching from a distance.
Moura looked at Jalal out of the corner of his eye and frowned.
"Do I have to tell you one by one?"
Jalal's expression changed, and he became hesitant. However, he wouldn't last long in front of Moura. He glanced at Mais and then turned and disappeared without saying anything.
Moura looked at Kasuur's large plate, but Kasuur laughed and raised his hands.
"I'm his friend," he said. Moura looked skeptical, but Mais nodded. He didn't question it much either.
Then, Moura turned toward his tavern. He had no intention of saying anything to Mais.
"Thank you for saving me."
Moura stopped for a moment. He narrowed his eyes. He turned his head slightly and looked at the little boy, who was still calmly looking ahead. The core energy swirling in Moura's core emerged for a moment, reflected in his voice.
"I'm not so sure about that."
Mais only smiled at these words and said nothing. Kasuur tensed up without realizing it. He had never felt the pressure of a core expert before.
"Do you mind if we come to your tavern?" Mais asked. He didn't seem to care at all about Moura's suspicion. This made Moura more cautious. He squinted his eyes.
"Aren't you underage?"
"We have no family. We are the only ones responsible for ourselves."
Moura frowned, but when he saw the fat boy standing behind him, looking at him timidly, he understood. They probably didn't really have a family.
"If you have families, know that they will have to pay a fine."
He would have to pay a fine himself, but from the details he noticed, he guessed that if these children had families, they would pay.
And if they didn't, he didn't care.
Moura entered the tavern. Mais and Kasuur followed him inside the big building.
It was like a festival grounds. It was incredibly noisy. At least 30 tables were lined up on either side of the entrance. The building resembled a large barn. Drinks and other liquids had been spilled all over the place. Drunk people shouted, sang, and talked. Waves of origin energy were thrown at them from all sides. Taking these waves of origin energy into account, Mais realized that the energy of the people gathered here was at a level that could easily challenge a core expert.
But the noise did not worry Mais. He didn't care about appearances. All he wanted was a place to wait. Kasuur followed behind him, timid and curious.
Exploring the city didn't interest him. What could possibly interest him here? What beauty could this blind boy possibly see? Other than moving forward, what could interest him?
Unlike him, Kasuur was, of course, curious about the city, but after what had just happened, he had decided it would be safer to stay with Mais. The problem wasn't people like Bolt. It was people like Moura who had injured Bolt.
Kasuur was scared.
He had always been the strongest, or one of the strongest, wherever he went. It was only the presence of people like this in a small city that frightened him.
Of course, Mais and Maria had told him that, in his current form, he could challenge a Core Realm cultivator. After all, the technique he had learned was powerful. He had also entered this new realm unknown to anyone in the city. However, he wouldn't be able to reach this level of fighting power unless he fully accepted it and believed he could do it.
"Let's sit at the table. When our visitors arrive, let me do the talking," Mais said. Kasuur looked at him in surprise and then sat down at the bar table. They both ordered non-alcoholic drinks and waited.
Kasuur was curious to know what it was like to be drunk, but Mais wouldn't let him. He told Kasuur that it was an unpleasant experience for cultivators to get drunk. Of course, he had never been drunk himself. He had only heard this from his brother.
Besides, Kasuur was a murderer. He had killed people. How many people would he kill here if he got drunk and forgot his reasons?
How many could Mais protect?
There were, of course, more terrible killers around, but they were not as strong or as weak-willed as Kasuur. If they went mad, someone could appear at any moment to stop them.
Mais was nonchalantly sitting at the bar, shaking the iced avocado juice, when Kasuur was already falling for the sweet words of the belly dancers and spilling all his secrets. Suddenly, he heard a voice behind him. At the same time, he realized that everyone in the building had gone silent. Everyone except the loudmouth friend next to him.
"Yes, and then I put her on my shoulders and ran barefoot from one city to the next—"
"I guess you were expecting me."
Kasuur also fell silent. Suddenly, it felt like a powerful monster was staring at him and pinning him down. The White Immortal had given off a similar sensation, but never to this extent. Not this intense. Not this deadly.
At that moment, a smile appeared on Mais' face. He took a sip of the juice in front of him without turning to the man sitting next to him—an official with a clean, kind smile.
"Welcome, City Lord Baro."
This wise-looking man was Lord Baro, the city's truest sage and most powerful expert!