## Liam''s Perspective


    The shockwave from our collision sent ripples across the courtyard. I slid back several feet, my shoes digging trenches in the manicuredwn. Dashiell likewise retreated, his polished dress shoes skidding across the marble tiles.


    Silence fell over the crowd. No one had expected this level of power from either of us.


    I flexed my fingers, assessing. That first exchange told me everything I needed to know about Dashiell ckthorne. Strong, yes. But overconfident. Sloppy.


    "Impressive," Dashiell said, his voice carrying across the stunned gathering. "But that was only ten percent of my true strength."


    I kept my face neutral. ssic intimidation tactic.


    "Is that supposed to scare me?" I asked.


    His face twitched with annoyance. "You should be terrified, country boy."


    Dashiell''s aura expanded suddenly, a heavy pressure washing over the courtyard. Several guests staggered backward. The reporters dropped to their knees, cameras still recording despite their obvious difort.


    I stood unmoved, letting my own energy rise to counter his oppressive force.


    "Your parlor tricks don''t impress me," I said.


    Dashiell''s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Let''s see if this impresses you!"


    He thrust both palms forward. Beams of concentrated light shot toward me, tearing through the air with a high-pitched whine. I didn''t dodge. Instead, I activated my Saintly Body Skill, golden light suffusing my skin.


    The impact was tremendous. The ground beneath me cratered, dirt and stone exploding outward in a violent spray. Dust clouded the air, obscuring me from view.


    From the sidelines, I heard voices cutting through the silence.


    "Such power," Dominic Ashworth whispered, his voice carrying in the tense quiet. "No one could survive that."


    "The Knight boy was a fool to challenge him," Ricardo Beaumont added, sounding smug.


    Darnell Bradford chuckled. "Dashiell has been holding back all these years. Who knew he possessed such might?"


    The dust began to settle. I stood exactly where I had been,pletely unharmed. The golden glow of my Saintly Body Skill illuminated the crater around me.


    Gasps erupted from the crowd.


    "Impossible!" someone shouted.


    I stepped forward, out of the crater. "Is that all?"


    Dashiell''s face contorted with rage. "You shouldn''t be standing!"


    "Yet here I am," I replied. "My turn?"


    Before he could respond, I channeled energy into my movement technique. To the observers, I simply vanished, reappearing directly in front of Dashiell. My fist connected with his abdomen before he could react.


    He doubled over, coughing violently.


    I stepped back, giving him space to recover. This wasn''t just about winning. It was about sending a message to everyone watching. The age of aristocratic invincibility was ending.


    "Lucky shot," Dashiell wheezed, straightening up.


    His eyes had changed. The arrogance remained, but now there was calction. He hadn''t expected resistance. Now he was reassessing.


    Dashiell''s next attack came without warning. He appeared behind me, his palm striking my back with tremendous force. I recognized the technique immediately – the Phantom Palm, designed to bypass external defenses and damage internal organs. Emerson Holmes'' signature move.


    Pain red through my body, but I remained standing. A faint red mark appeared on my skin where his palm had connected, but nothing more.


    "What are you?" he hissed, backing away.


    I turned to face him. "Someone you shouldn''t have underestimated."


    In the VIP section, I noticed Kn Ashworth frowning deeply.


    "What is Dashiell doing?" he asked loudly. "This should have been over already."


    Emerson Holmes ced a calming hand on his shoulder. "Patience. Dashiell is merely toying with him. Building drama for the cameras."


    Roderick ckthorne nodded in agreement. "My brother likes to put on a show. It''s more satisfying when the opponent believes they have a chance."


    Their false confidence amused me. I decided to push Dashiell further.


    "I''ve been wondering," I called out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Is it true you defeated Martial Marquis Austin Wells?"


    Dashiell''s expression flickered with surprise. "Everyone knows that story."


    I smiled. "Yes, everyone knows the story. But not everyone knows that Wells had both legs broken and was dying of poison when you challenged him."


    His face paled slightly. "Lies!"


    "Is it?" I pressed. "The great Dashiell ckthorne, heir to the ckthorne legacy, building his reputation on defeating crippled opponents. How many of your victories were actually earned?"


    "Shut your mouth!" Dashiell roared. <strong ss="frag-4e01e2">Uploaded<i ss="node-sep"></i>by<i ss="node-sep"></i>the<i ss="node-sep"></i>*)<i ss="node-sep"></i>team.</strong>


    Hisposure crackedpletely. Raw fury reced calction. His aura exploded outward, no longer golden but blood red. The pressure intensified tenfold, crushing the ground around him.


    The transformation was startling. His skin darkened, veins bulging beneath the surface. His eyes glowed crimson, and his perfectly styled hair whipped around his face as if caught in a violent storm.


    "You want to see my true power?" he snarled, his voice distorted. "Then witness it!"


    Isabelle had appeared at the entrance of the vi, nked by guards but watching intently. Our eyes met briefly. I saw no fear in her gaze – only trust and determination.


    That single look strengthened my resolve. Whatever Dashiell was bing, I would face it. For her. For us.


    The reporters scrambled backward, but kept filming. This had transcended a wedding disruption. This was now a sh between titans that would be talked about for years.


    Dashiell''s transformation continued. His muscles bulged, tearing the seams of his expensive suit. The blood-red energy surrounding him condensed into a second skin, giving him a demonic appearance.


    "The Blood Demon Technique," Emerson Holmes whispered, shock evident in his voice. "He wasn''t supposed to use that here."


    Corbin Ashworth looked equally rmed. "This wasn''t part of the n!"


    Roderick''s face had gone pale. "Brother, control yourself!"


    But Dashiell was beyond hearing them. His focus was entirely on me, hatred burning in his crimson eyes.


    I nted my feet firmly, gathering my energy. The golden light of my Saintly Body Skill brightened in response to the threat before me. I would not retreat. I would not bow. Not to him. Not to any of them.


    "Liam Knight," Dashiell growled, his voice barely human, "this is just the beginning!"


    The demonic figure before me tensed, preparing to unleash hell. The real battle was about to start.