The Invincible Young Master

Back on the grassy plains, where the silver cube hovered above the carriage, the air remained thick with tension.

The barbarians, once so confident in their approach, now hesitated, unsure of what they were facing.

The cube's shimmering light bathed the field in an eerie, otherworldly glow, its power unmistakable and unlike anything they had ever encountered.

The earlier chants and war cries had faded into silence as they stared at the massive object, unsure of what to do next.

Inside the carriage, Pooella held Alice close, her eyes wide with awe as she looked up at the enormous cube.

"Is that…" she began, unable to finish the thought.

Zhao Shi stood frozen beside her, his gaze locked on the cube as well. "An astral artifact…"

On the plains, the barbarians, realizing they were outmatched, began to murmur among themselves. Some looked ready to flee, their previous confidence shattered.

But it was already too late.

In a sudden, smooth wave of energy from the silver cube, the barbarians found themselves completely immobilized.

Their bodies refused to move, as though time itself had stopped around them. They could still see and hear, but their limbs were frozen in place.

Alice giggled, watching the scene unfold with innocent delight. "Grandpa stopped the bad guys!" she said, clapping her hands in excitement.

The barbarians shifted uneasily, their eyes wide with terror. They had come to capture Reynold's group, but now, faced with this unbeatable force, their resolve crumbled.

Every attack they attempted was effortlessly blocked by the shimmering barrier around the cube, which stood like an unbreakable fortress.

No matter how hard their leaders tried—chanting spells, hurling energy—their efforts fizzled out into harmless sparks against the glowing barrier.

Then, from the far horizon, something different approached.

A sudden, sharp surge of energy shot across the sky, moving faster than anything the barbarians had ever seen.

It was a concentrated beam of light, precise and deadly, cutting through the air like a spear from the heavens.

In the blink of an eye, it struck the silver cube with immense force.

The impact was violent, sending sparks flying in every direction.

The air trembled from the sheer collision of two great powers.

A deafening boom followed, shaking the plains like a massive thunderclap.

The barbarians closest to the blast collapsed instantly, their bodies falling limp as though their strings had been cut.

Those further away staggered, blood trickling from their ears and noses as the soundwave hit them with brutal force.

As the sound began to settle, a deep, hearty laugh echoed across the plains, cutting through the chaos.

"You're as strong as ever, Sword King!" the voice boomed, filled with amusement and challenge.

From the sky, a figure descended rapidly, crashing into the ground with such force that the earth itself trembled.

A large crater formed beneath the figure as the ground shook, sending dust and debris into the air.

For a moment, the figure was hidden by the cloud of dust, but then he stepped forward, emerging into view.

He was massive, even by barbarian standards, towering over everyone like a giant.

His muscles rippled under his skin, and strapped to his back was a huge sword that glowed with a menacing red light.

The sword pulsed as if it were alive, its glow beating in sync with the rhythm of its master's heart.

The barbarians, even the most battle-hardened among them, scrambled back in fear. Their survival instincts overtook any thoughts of pride or defiance.

"Lord King!" they cried in unison, falling to their knees in reverence.

For the barbarians, kneeling was rare, a gesture reserved only for those they considered truly worthy of it. And this man—this living mountain—was one of the few who commanded that level of respect.

Reynold's focus sharpened as he felt the powerful surge of energy radiating from the towering barbarian.

The energy spread quickly, like a wildfire tearing across the plains, filling the air with an almost suffocating intensity.

"The Barbarian King," he muttered.

This wasn't just any opponent. The giant barbarian, the one the others called "Lord King," was one of the three most powerful figures in Grimhold.

Reynold had read about this land. In the lawless and war-driven territories of Grimhold, there was no single ruler—only three dominant leaders who commanded great armies and enormous influence.

Each of these figures could have easily built an empire if they ever left Grimhold, but instead, they remained here, leading massive, nomadic tribes that warred and thrived in the chaos.

The Barbarian King, now standing outside the barrier, was the most dangerous of them all.

The air was thick with tension as the Barbarian King's eyes locked onto the silver cube hovering above the carriage.

A smirk spread across his rough, battle-scarred face.

He raised his voice, letting it boom across the plains like thunder.

"Why don't you come out, Sword King?" His words echoed, bouncing off the invisible barrier protecting Reynold and his group.

"How long do you plan to hide in that shell? Or have you become a turtle?" His deep laughter followed, rumbling through the plains and shaking the ground beneath their feet.

Reynold stood atop the carriage, his expression calm even as the situation grew more intense.

The Barbarian King's taunts echoed across the plains, aimed squarely at the "Sword King." Reynold knew exactly who the Barbarian King meant—there was only one man who held that title. His father.

Reynold's eyes drifted upward toward the sky, where the silver cube floated, untouched by the raw power radiating from the barbarian forces below.

Slowly, a figure began to emerge from the top of the cube, a presence both subtle and commanding.

Golden hair shimmered in the sunlight, flowing like liquid gold, but there was no grand display of force or intimidation.

Renard appeared calm and serene, almost as if he were a part of the sky itself.

His power wasn't overwhelming like the Barbarian King's; it was quiet, yet anyone who saw him could feel the immense strength he carried.

He didn't need to show it. His gaze alone seemed to see through everything, as if he already knew how the battle would end.

Reynold watched in silence as his father hovered above the battlefield, his golden hair swaying gently in the breeze, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

It was a small, almost arrogant smile that hinted at his complete control of the situation.

Despite the barbarians' numbers, they seemed to shrink under Renard's gaze, none of them daring to move.

Renard's eyes swept over the Barbarian King's forces with barely a flicker of interest.

He wasn't impressed by their strength or their numbers.

The Barbarian King, who had been so full of confidence moments ago, narrowed his eyes, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

And then, in the blink of an eye, Renard disappeared.

One moment, he was atop the silver cube. The next, he stood right in front of the Barbarian King, close enough that the larger man's breath stirred the air between them.

That same smirk remained on Renard's face, as if mocking the Barbarian King's earlier taunts.

Despite the Barbarian King's towering size, the two men seemed to stand as equals, their energy rippling outward like waves, pressing against everyone around them with a nearly physical force.

The Barbarian King let out a booming laugh that echoed across the plains.

"So, you finally come out of your shell, Sword King!" he bellowed, his deep voice shaking the air. "You're just as arrogant as the last time I saw you."

For a brief moment, it looked as if they were old friends, reunited after a long time.

They laughed together, their voices reverberating like thunder across the landscape. It was an odd sight—two of the most powerful figures sharing in laughter—but the tension between them was impossible to ignore.

The surrounding barbarians, though sensing this strange camaraderie, were far from comfortable.

They knew something was about to happen.

Without needing orders, they began retreating, scrambling to put distance between themselves and the two titans.

Some ran, others collapsed to their knees under the weight of the energy pressing down on them.

Those who were closest could barely stand, as if the very air had become heavy, too thick to breathe.

Renard glanced at the fleeing barbarians, his smirk widening.

"Looks like your people aren't as eager for a fight," he said, his tone playful but sharp.

"And you've gotten fatter since I last saw you." His laugh was light, almost teasing, but there was a cutting edge beneath it.

The Barbarian King roared with laughter again, though his eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.

"Maybe fatter," he growled, pounding his chest with a fist that sent tremors through the ground. "But still strong enough to crush anyone in my path."

Though they exchanged lighthearted words, the atmosphere between them had changed.

The air grew thick with tension and power, the kind that could suffocate anyone too weak to withstand it.

Invisible energy crackled between them, like two storms about to collide, each one ready to unleash destruction.

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A:N/ I really freaking want to complete this story, even as a author I'm excited see the scene I imagined actually being played out. but the decreasing supports is honestly demotivating, idk where I effed up. I can count the numbers of people still reading this book in my one hand, Those who are still reading, I thank you all for supporting. Let's see how far we can go.