They stared at Leylo. This young lord didn't look like the fat, bloated nobles they were used to, but his build was merely well-proportioned, not particularly muscular. In fact, he seemed almost "slight" compared to these barbarian youths who had grown up wrestling in the mountains. He didn't appear to possess any overwhelming physical advantage.
After a brief silence, a barbarian youth who was relatively smaller but possessed exceptionally fierce eyes stepped forward first.
"I'll do it!" he said in a muffled, gravelly voice.
Leylo signaled the guards to back away, leaving a wide clearing. "Come!" He didn't even draw the longsword at his waist.
This dismissive attitude completely incensed the youth. With a roar like a tiger emerging from a cage, he lunged forward, a savage aura trailing behind him. His fist, the size of a clay pot, shot straight for Leylo's face. The punch was heavy and carried the whistling sound of displaced air; an ordinary man hit by such a blow would likely suffer broken bones on the spot.
However, Leylo didn't move—not until the wind of the fist brushed his face. He shifted slightly, his right foot sliding out like a phantom to trip the youth's lead leg. Simultaneously, his palm pressed against the boy's chest with deceptive ease.
Thump!
The barbarian youth felt an irresistible force surge through him. His footing gave way, and he was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing heavily into the dirt several meters away and kicking up a cloud of dust. He struggled to rise, but a sharp pain in his chest and a metallic sweetness in his throat left him without the strength to stand.
One move! In just one move, a seemingly powerful barbarian youth had been effortlessly defeated.
The contempt on the remaining youths' faces vanished instantly. They finally realized that this young human lord was nowhere near as simple as he appeared.
"Next." Leylo brushed off non-existent dust from his hands.
Ed stood by as a guard—though "spectator" was more accurate. To him, the Lord, who had already ascended to a formal knight, was invincible here. It was simply a matter of whether he would use his Knight's Qi, and how much.
Second... Third...
The subsequent challengers became far more cautious. They attempted to use their innate barbarian strength and stamina to wear Leylo down. But without exception, every one of them was easily floored by Leylo's seemingly basic combat techniques. Their prideful physical prowess appeared fragile and clumsy before him.
Soon, nine barbarian youths lay scattered across the clearing. Only Thor remained standing. His expression was dangerously dark, and his clenched fists trembled with exertion. He had witnessed his companions being swatted away like annoying flies.
This human... is strong! Ridiculously strong!
Thor took a deep breath, his chest heaving. As the son of the Bear Clan's chief, he was born with the Bloodline of the Great Earth Bear. He possessed Herculean strength that far surpassed his peers—the very reason he had managed to injure several slave-trading guards earlier. He had hoped that with his raw power, he might have a sliver of a chance. But now, hope felt like a distant luxury.
Still, the lure of freedom and the primal pride of his race forbade him from retreating.
"ROAR!" Thor let out a low, guttural growl. He stomped the ground, propelling himself forward like a cannonball.
Leylo's eyes narrowed slightly. This Thor indeed had some skill. In terms of explosive power alone, he was already nearing the level of a formal knight. Facing the violent charge, Leylo chose not to dodge. He dropped into a low stance, clenched his right fist, and met the attack with a punch of his own.
Head-on. He wanted to test exactly how powerful the Great Earth Bear bloodline was.
BOOM!
Thor felt a tyrannical force surge from his opponent's fist, nearly collapsing his defenses. A tearing pain shot through his right arm, and he was forced back seven or eight steps, each footprint leaving a deep indentation in the soil. He grit his teeth against the pain and steadied himself, his eyes filled with horror.
The opponent had chosen a direct clash—and was even stronger than him!
Leylo shook his hand, his knuckles emitting a faint cracking sound. That punch had been infused with Knight's Qi. Had it been a contest of pure physical flesh, even a formal knight might not have suppressed a scion of the Earth Bear so easily.
"Earth Bear bloodline? Not bad," Leylo critiqued. "A pity you haven't learned how to use it yet."
Thor grit his teeth, his bloodshot eyes locked on Leylo, refusing to yield. According to tribal law, one could only receive a Shaman's totem tattoo to awaken the bloodline's true power at the age of sixteen. He was fifteen—three months shy of the mark.
He roared and charged again. This time, he didn't run in a straight line but used more agile footwork, trying to flank Leylo. But Leylo was faster. No matter how Thor shifted, Leylo remained right in front of him, his arms like iron pincers, parrying and neutralizing every heavy strike.
To an onlooker, it looked like Thor was on a relentless offensive while Leylo was passively defending. But Thor knew the truth: every strike felt like hitting an indestructible fortress. He couldn't leave a scratch; instead, the recoil left his blood churning and his arms numb.
"Good power, but too slow. Your technique is crude," Leylo commented even as he parried.
This "cat-and-mouse" attitude drove Thor into a frenzy. He stopped abruptly, eyes turning blood-red. His muscles swelled, and a faint, earthy yellow light began to circulate beneath his skin. He seemed to physically expand.
"BEAR—CRUSH!"
Thor let out a final, desperate roar, channeling every ounce of strength into his shoulders. In a near-suicidal lunge, he slammed into Leylo!
Facing this "all-or-nothing" strike, Leylo showed a hint of admiration, but his response was ruthless. He stepped forward, his hand snapping out like a lightning-fast blade, striking Thor's charging shoulder.
Phut!
A sharp sting followed by total numbness raced through Thor's body. He felt his strength dissolve. With a "thud," he collapsed to his knees before Leylo, gasping for air as sweat and grime streaked his young, defiant face.
Lost... He had lost completely. And so easily.
The clearing fell silent. The other youths stared blankly at the kneeling Thor, then at Leylo standing with his hands behind his back. Fear, awe, and bewilderment swirled in their eyes.
Leylo walked up to Thor, looking down at him. "And now, your choice?"
Thor looked up into Leylo's deep, calm eyes. After a moment of struggle, he finally lowered his proud head. In a raspy voice, he said: "We... lost."
He reached out a trembling hand and used his nails to gouge a deep cut across his palm. Blood welled up instantly.
"I, Thor of the Bear Clan, hereby swear the Blood Oath to serve Lord Leylo! My loyalty shall be unswerving in this life. Should I break this vow, may my bloodline end and my soul descend into the abyss!"
Following Thor's lead, the other nine youths struggled to their feet and followed suit, offering their loyalty through the ancient barbarian rite.