"This Rhys really doesn't understand the immensity of the Heavens! Isn't he just overestimating himself and looking for death?"

  "Chris is near Level 10, while this Rhys is merely a commoner, and that's without taking into account the Ellsworth Secret Skill…"

  "The outcome is already set in stone…"

  But Rhys showed no fear, no hesitation. Instead, he met Chris's attack head-on, his own palm erupting in a fiery inferno.

  Then, the clash. Flames surged, thunder crackled, and the searing heat collided with the blinding lightning, culminating in a resounding boom that reverberated through the hall.

  The dust settled, revealing a scene that shocked everyone. Chris stood frozen, his body trembling from the impact. Rhys, on the other hand, remained unmoved, a confident smirk playing on his lips. He looked like a young god of fire, his aura blazing with newfound power.

  "What?!"

  "No way…"

  "That's impossible!"

  "He's just a commoner!"

  "Rhys...he awakened his System Interface!!" A wave of realization washed over the crowd.

  "But how—"

  Rhys's strength exceeded their expectations — it shocked a lot of the observers.

  In that palm exchange, it could be seen that the two had rivaled each other without much difference.

  "Rhys's level is only at Level 1, yet he's able to block the Chris blow, who's 10 levels above him?"

  All the spectators were stunned by the outcome. Tristan, however, remained impassive, his gaze sweeping over the astonished faces around him.

  He noted the surprise, the disbelief, the dawning realization that Rhys was not the insignificant nobody they had assumed him to be.

  Except for him, Regina, and the City Lord Jack Ellsworth, everyone appeared genuinely shocked when Rhys's hands erupted in flames.

  Tristan's eyebrows shot up, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the City Lord's face, who had only started to show signs of distress when he saw his son on equal footing with Rhys. A slow, dangerous smile curled his lip. So, the City Lord was aware of Rhys's... awakening.

  Regina, on the other hand, remained remarkably calm.

  His eyes, now glinting with suspicion, flickered between the City Lord and Regina. Was this a play for power? A calculated move to undermine me, to expose my ignorance? He casually tapped a finger against his armrest, a rhythmic beat that mirrored the quickening of his pulse. Or was this Regina's game all along? A subtle maneuver to manipulate the situation to her advantage?

  Tristan returned her smile, a playful glint in his eyes. "The Young Lady's paramour is quite the character," he remarked, his voice laced with amusement.

  "Paramour?" Regina echoed, her eyebrows arching delicately. "Young Master Tristan, I believe you misunderstand. Rhys is merely a childhood friend. Though I didn't consider he could be this powerful."

  Tristan chuckled, not bothered by her response. Denying any romantic involvement with Rhys while simultaneously praising his abilities...was she trying to provoke him? Or was she simply playing her cards close to her chest?

  He was not surprised by Rhys's ability to generate his fame; it was his expected result. Proving others wrong and slapping their faces was the norm for his kind, after all.

  He took another sip of his wine, his gaze fixed on the ongoing battle. Without a hurried tone, he spoke to Regina Ellsworth. "You seem to have quite the trust in this Rhys's ability? Did you want your fiance to fight with your lover?"

  Regina Ellsworth turned her head at Tristan's words, her carefully maintained composure faltering for the briefest moment. A tremor ran through her, betraying her inner turmoil. Though she remained silent, her subtle movements spoke volumes.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Tristan, his deep gaze fixed on her, smiled knowingly. "The way you try to act calm... isn't it a facade to make me think you have nothing to do with this Rhys?" he asked, his voice a blend of amusement and accusation. "Are you afraid I will deal with him? How cunning you are, Lady Regina."

  With a few well-aimed words, he had exposed her carefully crafted act. He could practically see the wheels turning in her mind, desperately trying to maintain the facade of indifference.

  Regina remained silent, but her eyes betrayed her. They flickered with a mixture of apprehension and defiance, a silent challenge that tried to spark his interest even further.

  But he had no desire to entangle with this lady Scion.

  As the battle continued, Tristan knew that Rhys was keeping his focus on him as he tried to talk to his woman.

  Tristan, meanwhile, glanced down at his empty wine cup. "It seems I'm in need of a refill," He remarked casually, his eyes meeting Regina's.

  Regina turned to look at him and silently signaled to a nearby waiter with a flick of her wrist.

  For Tristan, this whole situation was a tired cliché, a predictable past he had witnessed before. Only the person getting beaten up is the City Lord's son.

  Now that he was in the middle of the situation, his memories cleared up about the situation.

  He knew that Rhys's sudden outburst was likely triggered by the rumor that the City Lord had personally delivered his daughter to Tristan's mansion the previous night.

  What Rhys didn't know, however, was that this entire spectacle was orchestrated by Amy Ellsworth behind the scenes.

  And from the history of the Scion, Rhys, someone who had risen from a backwater place, crossed through hundreds of hurdles, was able to awaken his Interface, was the Protagonist with his own fortuitous encounter.

  Regina Ellsworth, with her prodigious talent, stunning beauty, and the esteemed title of most beautiful Lady of Cinderbrook, was at her first hurdle toward her journey. She was intelligent and resourceful, and she knew that a direct confrontation between Rhys and Tristan would be disastrous.

  Therefore, she had chosen a different tactic, feigning indifference to distance herself from Rhys and avoid incurring Tristan's wrath.

  If she wasn't the heroine of this story, then who was?

  Unfortunately for her, Tristan saw through her charade.

  He already had his past memories to help him handle the situation. What's more, now that Tristan knew he was the hurdle these Scions needed to overcome, he had no intention of entangling himself with them any longer.

  "I underestimated you!" Chris spat out, his voice cold. His posture, however, betrayed his desire to continue the fight. After all, failing to defeat Rhys in front of this audience, especially his father watching, would be a significant blow to his pride.

  But before Chris could make another move, Tristan appeared beside them, a casual wave of his hand halting the young Ellsworth's advance.

  "How dull," Tristan remarked, his voice laced with boredom.

  Rhys froze, his face contorted in a mixture of shock and indignation.

  "However," Tristan continued, his gaze settling on Rhys, "since this matter is related to me, I won't trouble Young Master Chris any further."

  Tristan observed Chris's reaction with a hint of amusement. The young Ellsworth was clearly conflicted, torn between his desire for revenge and his awareness of Tristan's superior power.

  Tristan added while his gaze landed upon Rhys's face.

  "Your fearlessness…is it out of ignorance or a false sense of fairness?" he asked Rhys, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere.

  In the next moment, a majestic force descended upon the hall, as if the heavens themselves had opened. A terrifying pressure swept through the room, the air quivering and crackling with energy. Tristan felt the presence of his Blood Warrior behind him, amplifying the oppressive atmosphere.

  [ [E] Human - Level 10 ]

  Everyone in the hall felt a primal terror rising within them, a fear profound that even some of the older people lost their balance.

  "Is this the Young Master's bodyguard?" Jack Ellsworth whispered, his face grim.

  Bang! Rhys, the main target of this overwhelming force, paled dramatically. His legs buckled, and he crumpled to the ground, his hands barely able to keep his head from hitting the floor. He was utterly crushed.

  With a Herculean effort, Rhys lifted his head, his eyes meeting Tristan's.

  Posturing, are we? I can do that too! Tristan thought, a sneer curling his lips. He had seen through Rhys's little scheme. If the fight with Chris had continued, Rhys would have undoubtedly emerged victorious, delivering a resounding slap to the faces of everyone present.

  Then, he would have challenged Tristan, likely proposing some kind of wager on a future battle. With the mysterious power of his ring, Rhys probably believed he had a guaranteed victory.

  It was a clever plan, a classic underdog story. But Tristan was no longer the naive fool who would fall for such predictable tropes.

  He was a time traveller, unburdened by the need to adhere to conventional narratives. He had no qualms about using his knowledge and power to crush those who dared to challenge him.

  All the onlookers watched this in shock.

  The ones who received the greatest jolt were none other than members of the City Lord who knew a thing or two about Tristan and Regina Ellsworth who realized the strength behind him.

  Rhys, though visibly shaken by the oppressive force bearing down on him, managed to grit out, "What's wrong, Young Master Tristan? Afraid to fight me yourself? Hiding behind your slave's power? Is that the extent of your courage?"

  The entire hall turned dead silent.

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