The Invincible Young Master

A/N: Change of Pov it will only last few chapter, Glazing goes wild in this chapter. ke! Ke! ke!

A golden carriage flew across the grassy plains at an incredible speed, leaving behind a faint, shimmering trail in the sky.

Unlike the typical carriages drawn by powerful beasts, this one moved effortlessly on its own, as if defying the very laws of nature.

Inside the carriage, Reynold's group took a moment to rest, recovering after escaping the forest.

Zhao Shi sat by the window, his eyes wide with awe as he watched the landscape flash by in a blur of green.

"This thing is unbelievably fast, Lord Reynold," he said, his voice filled with amazement. "I never thought I'd be riding in something like this one day."

Reynold, seated calmly beside him, glanced briefly out of the window.

"We are out of the forest now," he replied coolly. "That's why I brought it out. Inside Grimhold, it would've drawn too much unwanted attention."

The group had been on the run for days, with no time to relax or let their guard down.

Reynold had kept the flying carriage hidden the entire time—its gleaming presence far too conspicuous for the treacherous, overgrown forest.

But now that they were in the open plains, there was no need for caution.

In the corner of the carriage, little Alice lay curled up, sleeping peacefully beneath a soft blanket.

Her small body rose and fell with each deep breath, the exhaustion of their journey finally catching up to her.

By her side, Pooella, her ever-vigilant nanny, sat stroking Alice's hair with gentle fingers as she slept.

"How long will the pill's effect last?" Pooella asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper as she glanced over at Reynold.

"It will wear off soon," Reynold answered without turning, still focused on the passing scenery. "We can give her another if necessary."

Pooella let out a soft sigh, her hand continuing to move gently through Alice's hair.

The constant danger, the relentless chases, and the bloody battles would have been too much for Alice to witness.

Reynold had thus prepared a sleeping pill to keep Alice unaware of the horrors unfolding around them.

"I understand," Pooella murmured, her gaze softening as she looked down at Alice.

The interior of the carriage was quiet, save for the soft hum of the magical forces that propelled it forward.

For the first time in days, the group had a moment of peace, a break from the endless cycle of running and fighting.

The open plains stretched endlessly before them, offering a rare feeling of safety.

But despite the calm, Pooella could not shake the gnawing sense of unease that lingered, a dread that had taken root deep within her during their time in Grimhold.

Her eyes drifted toward Reynold, who still sat by the window, his expression calm and unreadable.

She watched him for a moment, her thoughts heavy.

This man, Reynold, she thought to herself, is dangerous.

There was something about the way he always seemed in control, no matter how dire their situation became.

Pooella could sense it—behind his composed exterior was a man willing to do whatever it took to achieve his goals, no matter the cost.

Her mind wandered back to the Grimhold forest and the terrifying moments when they had been chased by the barbarians.

She vividly remembered how he had wielded his sword that day. His movements were smooth and precise, each strike perfectly calculated, each slash more deadly than the one before.

It was not just his raw strength that stood out to her—it was the absolute control he had over his sword.

It was as if he had created his own space on the battlefield, where every movement of his blade shaped the outcome.

At that moment, Pooella had realized Reynold was no ordinary man.

Growing up, Pooella had been taught that the people of the mortal empire were weak, and more reliant on their status and wealth than any real skill.

She had always believed that those from the empire lacked true mastery of their arts, dismissing them as lazy and arrogant.

She carried a sense of superiority, viewing them as lesser, thinking they posed no real threat.

But then she had seen Reynold fight.

With calm confidence, he had used his domain.

In that moment, everything changed. A quiet but overpowering presence spread from him, as if he controlled the very space around him.

His sword danced through the air with the precision of an artist painting a masterpiece. Each strike was perfectly timed, creating a deadly web that none of their attackers could escape.

Pooella had watched in awe as the seemingly unstoppable barbarians fell, one after another.

They did not even have time to scream.

The air barely stirred, yet where Reynold's sword passed, the warriors were reduced to nothing more than crimson mist.

In her mind's eye, she could still picture it—the way the light gleamed off the edge of his sword, the effortless precision in his movements.

His expression had remained completely calm, almost detached, as if wiping out an entire group of enemies was just another task to be done.

He had not shown a flicker of emotion, no trace of fear or satisfaction. It was as if the lives he had taken meant nothing.

Reynold's skill with a sword wasn't the most terrifying thing about him. Pooella realized this not long after. It was not the swift killing of the barbarians that haunted her—it was what came afterward, something far more unsettling.

Once they had left the bloody field behind, their journey through the dense, shadowy Grimhold forest continued.

For hours, they wandered through the thick maze of trees, lost and uncertain of their path.

At one point, they stumbled upon a large barbarian tribe, alive with activity and movement.

The sight of so many warriors should have been a clear warning to turn back and avoid another confrontation. But Reynold had other plans.

"I will sneak in and get a map," he had said, his voice calm, as if they were discussing something mundane.

Before Pooella could respond, he had already disappeared into the darkness, leaving the group hidden safely at a distance.

For a while, everything remained quiet.

But then, suddenly, a massive explosion ripped through the silence.

The sound was deafening, like a thunderclap, and the ground trembled beneath Pooella's feet. Her heart pounded as she turned toward the source of the noise, her breath catching in her throat.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she saw a towering giant appear, seemingly out of nowhere, wreaking havoc on the tribe.

The creature was enormous, its presence overwhelming and terrifying.

It crushed everything in its path with terrifying ease—huts, walls, and even the barbarians who tried to stop it were destroyed in seconds.

The barbarians fought back fiercely, throwing everything they had at the giant.

But no matter how hard they tried, their efforts were in vain. The power radiating from the creature was immense, almost unnatural.

Even from a distance, Pooella could feel it—the sheer force of its presence sent a chill down her spine.

This was not something that could be reasoned with or fought off. It was raw, unstoppable destruction.

Her mind raced with questions. Could Reynold have caused this? The timing was too perfect, too precise to be anything else. But how? The thought unsettled her. This was not a simple distraction—it was a disaster on a scale she hadn't imagined.

By the time Reynold returned, casually holding a rolled-up map, the tribe was in ruins.

The once bustling camp was reduced to smoldering rubble.

The giant's distant roars still echoed through the forest as it continued its path of devastation, now too far away to be seen but leaving behind the unmistakable destruction of its presence.

Pooella, filled with shock and disbelief, looked at Reynold.

"What was that?" she demanded, her voice sharp with fear and confusion. She needed answers—how had the giant appeared so suddenly, and why?

Reynold did not reply at first. His expression remained calm, unaffected by the chaos that had unfolded.

"It will buy us some time," he said simply. He turned his attention back to the map in his hands, as if the carnage he had caused was just another detail in their journey.

Pooella stood frozen, trying to process what had just happened. The image of the giant's rampage, the utter devastation, was burned into her memory.

His calm detachment, the way he treated the destruction of an entire tribe as nothing more than a means to an end, chilled her to the core.

Reynold was not just a skilled warrior.

He was someone who could wield forces that defied reason, without hesitation or remorse. And that, more than anything, was what truly terrified her.

At that moment, she realized, the man standing before her was not just a mortal from a weak empire. He was something far more dangerous, powerful, and completely beyond her understanding.