Lucian’s relaxed attitude made something boil inside Ainar.
“It’s not over yet!”
Ainar yanked the axe back to recover it and adjusted his stance.
If the previous attack had prioritized speed, this one would put everything into power.
Of course, that left many gaps in his defense, but Lucian remained still, as if daring him to try.
“Hup!”
Whooom!
The moment the muscles in his arms swelled as if they were about to burst, Ainar’s axe came down toward Lucian’s head.
He struck with such force that the sound of the air tearing could be heard among the spectators.
However, Lucian didn’t even think of blocking with his hand like before; he simply tilted his head slightly.
Clang!
“Ugh!”
The rebound force that traveled from the handle to his arms made Ainar stifle a groan.
He had struck a human body, but it felt as if he’d hit a block of steel.
The pain made him furrow his brow, though a slight smile formed on his lips.
‘Even so, with this, he shouldn’t come out unscathed.’
Such a strong rebound meant the attack had been powerful.
As strong as Lucian was, Ainar thought, he wouldn’t be able to take that blow lightly. With that thought, he looked up—and his eyes widened.
Lucian had the axe blade resting on the back of his neck, with an indifferent expression.
“Is that all?”
“What the hell…?!”
Ainar was speechless. The nape of the neck, unlike the skull-protected head, was a much more vulnerable and easy-to-cut area.
And yet, he had taken an axe blow there without showing a single wound, not even a hint of pain.
“If you’re finished, it’s my turn now.”
Whoosh!
As if he wouldn’t allow a third chance, mana burst from Lucian’s body.
At the same time, a wave of heat never before felt in the tundra slammed into Ainar. He managed to withstand it without being pushed back by the scorching wind—but that was the end of it.
He couldn’t block Lucian’s sword that followed right after.
Clang!
“…!”
Struck by something heavy, Ainar was sent flying through the air. Then, something else hit him square in the forehead and he crashed to the ground.
It all happened so fast that no one could make out what had happened inside the blazing gust.
Thud.
“W-what?”
“What happened?”
When the wind died down and they saw Ainar lying on the ground, the members of the tribe looked at each other in shock.
They had closed their eyes from the blast, heard a single crash, and when they opened them, everything was over.
Lucian scanned the confused faces of the tribe members and, sheathing his sword, said:
“Next.”
***
Ivar felt the strength drain from his legs.
It was the same scene as in the first trial, but the despair was far greater.
‘How am I supposed to defeat someone against whom even weapons don’t work?’
The warrior he had seen in the first trial—the one who had reached the pinnacle in a woman’s body—at least still had human skin.
Though she hadn’t suffered a single wound, if a blade had made contact, surely flesh would have torn and blood would have flowed.
But Lucian was different. Not only did weapons fail against him, they couldn’t even deliver impact.
“Father, it’s not time to despair yet.”
Brunda’s whisper reached Ivar, who was staggering.
Turning his head, he saw Brunda smiling, eyes still full of determination.
“No matter what authority that man has obtained, it’s still power that comes from the dragon, just like ours. If the source is the same, there has to be a way to end him.”
“Have you found a method?”
“It’s better to show than to explain poorly.”
With those words, Brunda stepped toward Lucian without hesitation.
Seeing him unshaken despite the overwhelming gap, Ivar clicked his tongue.
He had thought Brunda was just a reckless brute who never thought of the consequences, but hadn’t expected such firm resolve.
‘Maybe I was wrong.’
He had always believed Ainar was the true successor—someone who combined wisdom and courage.
But now, seeing him again, Brunda seemed to fit even better as the next chieftain.
Under his father’s expectant gaze, Brunda drew his weapon without hesitation—a greatsword.
“I will be the second opponent.”
“Hmm.”
Lucian scanned Brunda’s face. Despite having seen his power several times, there wasn’t a trace of despair in his eyes.
Put kindly, it was confidence. Put bluntly, he didn’t understand the situation.
‘This one won’t do.’
Even if he spared him, he’d be the type to believe he could one day take Lucian down and would wait for a chance to stab him in the back.
Better to end him now than let him live by mistake, like Ainar.
Unaware that Lucian had already decided his fate, Brunda smiled smugly.
“I admit, you surprised me. I never imagined someone could use the dragon’s power that way. The authority of our great ancestors has no limits.”
“…”
“But if the origin is the same, then it can be neutralized with the same power. Like this!”
Wooooong
“Blessing of the Dragon!”
“Since when…?”
Seeing the magic enveloping Brunda’s greatsword, the tribe members cried out in surprise.
Materializing magic and applying it to a weapon wasn’t something just anyone could do—it required considerable skill, regardless of the dragon heart.
In other words, Brunda’s level was truly high.
However, Lucian only let out a mocking laugh.
“It’s clumsy. Don’t you think it’s time to stop pretending you’re strong when you’re not? Just maintaining that form must be exhausting.”
Lucian’s cold assessment made Brunda’s face twist.
As Lucian said, the magic around his sword wasn’t the result of full understanding.
It was simply the dragon’s power, recently acquired, forcibly channeled into the weapon while compensating for the energy constantly leaking out.
It was like trying to fill a cracked pot by pouring water nonstop.
“With a cheap imitation like that, you won’t last long. Why not stop before you collapse?”
“No. To face you, this temporary imitation is enough.”
Perhaps because he was forcing the power, sweat dotted Brunda’s forehead.
His stamina was dropping with each second, yet he kept speaking.
“You’re using the dragon’s power to harden your body, right? But tell me—what happens when dragon power collides with dragon power?”
“Oh.”
Lucian let out a soft exclamation. If equal forces clashed, even something like dragon scales could be neutralized.
Ainar had focused entirely on physical reinforcement, so it hadn’t mattered. But a direct collision of pure magic—that was a different story.
“Now you get it? Even if it’s an imitation, if this power touches your body, you too—”
Whoosh.
Brunda launched herself at Lucian before finishing her sentence.
Her speed was explosive; clearly, she had feigned carelessness to prepare a surprise attack.
‘So that’s why she wasted magic while talking.’
Lucian watched her with a faint smile. If he didn’t know what would happen when two dragon powers clashed, he couldn’t rely on defense alone.
So what to do?
The answer was simple.
Whip.
“Huh?”
With a whistle, Lucian vanished from Brunda’s sight. Attacking empty air, Brunda tried to turn in surprise—but before she could, her vision tilted downward.
“Why—?”
Slash.
Brunda’s head hit the ground. Her body followed shortly after.
Lucian, who had decapitated Brunda with a single motion, clicked his tongue.
“The idea was good. But only the idea.”
No matter how effective an attack might be, if it didn’t land, it meant nothing.
Brunda, who had only absorbed a sliver of the dragon’s power, couldn’t compare to Lucian, who had absorbed over half.
If she had waited for Lucian to take the hit head-on, like with Ainar, she might have had a chance.
But surrounding herself openly with magic and charging in was meaningless.
‘She forced the power, so she couldn’t manifest it instantly and looked for an opening—but with this difference in level, it meant nothing.’
Lucian turned away from Brunda’s corpse and addressed Ivar.
“Step up. Third one.”
“…”
At that informal tone, stripped of all courtesy, Ivar walked forward in silence.
Some might call it calm, but Lucian knew it was despair and resignation.
It was the expression of someone who, with no escape, had accepted death.
Staring at his son’s neck, Ivar spoke in a trembling voice.
“Don’t be proud of taking the chieftain’s seat from me. One day, you’ll fall like we did.”
“Do you really think that?”
“You’re young. You still don’t understand how the world works.”
“I asked what you think.”
“…”
“Do you think I’ll fall? Can you really see that future so clearly?”
At Lucian’s cold smile, Ivar clenched his teeth.
He had cursed out of anger, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn’t imagine a future where Lucian failed.
That realization shattered him even more.
“Damn bastard.”
Lucian smiled silently.
To the victor, the insults of the defeated were almost the highest praise.
***
Clack, thud.
Lucian shook the blood from his sword once, then sheathed it.
At the same time, the second headless body hit the ground.
With the heads of father and son lined up, Lucian turned to the members of the tribe and declared.
“From this moment on, I am your king.”
“…”
“…”
The tribe fell silent. No one cheered his proclamation. No one mourned the old chief’s death.
The reason was simple—the battle Lucian had shown was far beyond any common sense.
It wasn’t like the warrior woman who had reached the pinnacle, nor like a legendary hero fighting bravely.
Lucian had received all attacks as if watching the flailing of insects, and then crushed them with power, as if annoyed.
It didn’t seem like a battle between warriors—it was the scene of a god descending to earth to punish the arrogant.
That’s why the looks they gave Lucian weren’t those of admiration toward a great warrior—but reverence toward a deity.
“K-king.”
“King…!”
An elder, tense to his limit, fell to his knees. The others followed immediately.
He had seen this scene several times now, but the atmosphere was completely different.
Before, there had been hope in the new king; now, it was pure fear of angering a god.
Lucian sensed that fear and gave a bitter smile.
‘I was aiming for this effect but maybe I overdid it?’
____
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