The Invincible Young Master

The chamber was silent, with only three of them left. Everyone else who had entered had perished, their bodies lying lifeless and scattered across the floor.

The once-proud group of humans, who had entered with hopes of glory, were the first to fall under the creature's brutal attack.

Spark had warned them, but they had not listened.

Now, all he could do was sigh and shake his head at the aftermath.

At the center of the room, the creature's body was undergoing a strange transformation.

Slowly, it was turning into a golden statue, the red rope still wrapped loosely around it, draining the last of its life force and immortality.

The creature no longer fought back; its once fearsome aura was completely gone.

Now, it stood frozen, locked in an eternal pose.

As the transformation finished, the red rope was undone and fell to the ground with a soft thud.

Bronn stared at the golden statue, then at the rope. His eyes gleamed with curiosity.

"Boss, what is this rope?" he asked, his voice filled with awe.

"Something ugly," he replied. "But powerful."

At his words, Bronn's eyes widened.

"If you're saying it's powerful, it must be extraordinary," he said, still marveling at the object. "But why can't I sense anything? What's it made of?"

Spark glanced at him, smirking. "Because your nose isn't sharp enough. Not like mine."

Bronn, clearly confused, scratched his nose as if testing Spark's claim. "Is that so?"

Amelia, who had been watching quietly, finally spoke.

"Aren't you supposed to be all-knowing? Tell us what it is," she teased, repeating Spark's words from when they were stuck in that abyssal place together.

Spark raised an eyebrow at her. Then, waving off the question, he replied. "Even if I told you, you would not believe me."

"I'll believe you," she insisted, her curiosity piqued. "Tell us."

Seeing both of them waiting expectantly, Spark sighed, as if the answer were a burden to share. "Fine. If you really want to know, I'll tell you."

Bronn and Amelia leaned in, eager to hear the answer.

"It's a strand of hair."

For a moment, silence filled the chamber.

"…" Bronn blinked.

"…" Amelia's smile faltered.

"I see," Amelia finally said, chuckling softly, clearly not believing him. The idea was ridiculous to imagine; a strand of hair as thick as a human arm?

Spark's expression remained unchanged.

"I knew you wouldn't believe me," he said with a shrug, completely unfazed by their doubts.

Amelia, still amused by the absurdity, asked him further. "All right, let's say I believe you. Whose hair is it?"

Spark's eyes gleamed with mischief as he gave his obscure reply. "It's from something very ugly."

Rumble!

Just as they were talking about the rope, the chamber trembled violently, the very foundations of the ruin shaking.

Dust and debris rained down from above as cracks snaked through the walls. Pieces of the ceiling began to collapse, crashing to the floor with loud thuds.

"The ruin's collapsing," Spark said calmly, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Time to leave."

Bronn, always quick to act, scanned the room, his eyes on the treasure-filled boxes scattered around.

With a quick wave of his hand, all the open boxes disappeared into his storage bracelet, stowed away in seconds. "All set, boss!"

"How do we get out?" Bronn asked, glancing at the crumbling ceiling.

"There's only one way," Spark replied, pointing upward. "Break through it."

Bronn didn't need any more instructions.

Without hesitation, he leaped into the air, his massive frame smashing through the ceiling.

His powerful strike opened a wide path, and chunks of stone crumbled around him continuously.

Amelia lingered for a moment, her eyes sweeping over the collapsing chamber.

Her gaze settled on the bodies of the fallen; those who had come seeking glory and riches, were now nothing more than lifeless husks.

With a somber expression, she raised her hand, and a soft light enveloped the corpses.

One by one, the bodies floated upward, lifted by her magic.

Spark noticed her quiet act of compassion. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, though he said nothing.

Amelia took one last look at the crumbling chamber, her expression soft but resolute.

Then, with a burst of energy, she took off, following Bronn through the shattered ceiling along with spark and those corpses floating behind her.

Above, Bronn was already clearing the path, smashing through layers of stone as the ruin collapsed around them.

With each punch, he created more space, the ancient structure crumbling beneath their feet, finally giving in to time and destruction.

They broke through the last layer of stone, and the blinding light of the outside world greeted them.

They landed on solid ground just as the ruin fully collapsed behind them, a massive cloud of dust rising into the sky.

The fresh air filled their lungs, and the warmth of the sunlight felt comforting on their skin.

Bronn dusted off his hands and let out a deep breath. "That was exciting!"

Amelia, still using her magic to carry the floating bodies of the fallen, gave a small nod, her gaze distant.

She carefully placed the bodies on the soft earth, treating them with respect, even in death.

Spark, watching her with that same small smile, finally broke the silence. "You always surprise me."

She glanced at him, her expression gentle. "Someone has to remember them."

"Another kind gesture, I see," Spark said, recalling the stone grave Amelia had made for the two ethereal figures back in the pagoda.

Just as the dust from the collapsed ruin began to settle and the trio stood catching their breath, the sky suddenly darkened for a moment.

Boom!

Something fell from the heavens with a loud crash, sending a shockwave across the ground and throwing up a cloud of dust and debris.

A small crater formed where the thing had landed, its impact rippling through the earth.

Amelia instinctively readied herself, sensing the strength of the thing that fell.

Spark raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained calm, as if he had expected something like this.

From within the cloud of dust, a deep, booming voice echoed through the air. "I knew my son would clear the ruin!"

A massive figure emerged from the crater.

Towering and muscular, with the broad shoulders of a barbarian who had seen countless battles, the figure stepped forward, his footsteps making the earth tremble beneath him.

A heavy sword rested on his back, its sharpness gleaming menacingly in the light.

His eyes gleamed with pride, and his voice carried the weight of authority.

It was none other than the Barbarian King, Bronn's father.