Inside the Duel Pavilion, everyone had gathered.
The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. A duel between uncle and nephew—between a seasoned warrior and a newly awakened prince—was not something one saw every day.
Silver and Gon walked beside William as they entered.
Ashley followed a few steps behind, occasionally casting him sharp glances.
"Don't worry, Seventh Brother," Silver whispered. "Uncle Shanon is strong—but he's a big fool. Use that to your advantage."
Ashley scoffed. "Please. He's about to embarrass himself. Arrogant idiot."
Most of the spectators silently agreed with Ashley.
Inside the arena, King Midas stood at the center and raised his hand.
"Let me make something clear," he said calmly. "This duel is, by all logic, impossible. Shanon is a veteran warrior. The Seventh Prince is… inexperienced."
A few elders smirked.
"I allowed this only because it was a granted wish—and both parties agreed."
He paused, then added:
"But there will be no unfair advantage."
Reaching into his robe, he pulled out a yellow talisman inscribed with intricate symbols.
"This is an Earth-Bound Domain Talisman."
A ripple of surprise spread through the elders.
Shanon grinned and stepped into the duel ground.
"You wanted this fight," he called out. "Come here, boy. Let me see what you're made of."
William walked forward without hesitation.
King Midas infused Qi into the talisman.
It ignited instantly.
Golden inscriptions spread across the arena floor, lighting up like a massive formation array. A translucent dome formed around Shanon and William, enclosing them within a sealed domain.
The king's voice echoed across the pavilion.
"Within this domain, all beings return to their origin."
"It does not damage cultivation, nor transfer power. It temporarily seals everything above baseline."
He looked at the two fighters.
"For the next half hour, you will fight as equals."
A low murmur swept through the pavilion.
The elders recognized the talisman immediately.
Such a Spirit Domain Talisman was extraordinarily expensive—rarely used even in military campaigns.
Yet none protested.
They all wanted to see this.
Very much.
Inside the Earth-Bound Domain, William felt no change in his body.
He stood calmly, observing the crimson-haired Shanon.
Shanon, however, flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders. His Qi was gone. The weight of decades of cultivation had vanished.
He grinned and gave a thumbs-up toward the king.
"It works! Haha! Second Brother, it works! That merchant is worth doing business with."
A ripple of laughter spread.
Pandit Drake stepped into the domain briefly.
"Shanon," he said evenly, "even without Qi, your bones, muscles, and skin were tempered by dragon blood for decades. So understand to hold back when necessary."
Shanon snorted.
"And that's exactly why our nephew chose me instead of you. I don't hold back. Ever."
He waved dismissively.
"This isn't your stage. Get out."
Pandit sighed and exited the domain.
Shanon turned back to William.
"You heard him, Seventh."
William nodded once.
"And you still want to fight?"
No response.
William began stretching quietly.
Shanon chuckled.
"He's right about one thing. The talisman sealed my cultivation—but it didn't erase my body refinement. Dragon blood doesn't disappear."
He rolled his neck.
"So let's make this interesting."
"I won't hold back. But I'll admit defeat if you can land three clean hits on me."
He paused.
"And survive half an hour."
"I agree," William said calmly.
"Good lad. Begin whenever you're ready."
"Give me a minute."
William dropped into a squat.
Then push-ups.
Then vertical push-ups balanced on two fingers.
Then frog jumps.
The crowd murmured.
He wasn't stalling.
He was calibrating.
William flexed his wrists and let out a slow breath. His joints popped lightly.
"Alright," he said.
"I'm ready."
"Bring it on!" Shanon roared—
But before he finished—
William exploded forward.
Not like a noble.
Not like a soldier.
Like a predator.
He launched low, body compressed, leg whipping toward Shanon's flank in a brutal side kick.
The crowd gasped.
The speed—
Was not what they expected from a green-horned youth.
Shanon's eyes widened slightly, but his reaction was immediate.
He twisted his wrist and knocked William's leg aside.
A sharp sting shot up William's shin.
He landed lightly and stepped back, suppressing the pain.
That felt like kicking a steel pillar.
Shanon rolled his shoulders and spread his stance wider. He lifted one hand lazily and beckoned.
"Come."
The gesture was casual.
But his balance was perfect.
William narrowed his eyes.
His skin isn't just hard… it's reinforced. Years of dragon blood tempering.
He flexed his toes inside his boots.
Fine. Then brute force isn't the answer.
He adjusted his breathing.
This isn't a contest of strength.
It's a contest of control and martial arts.
Shanon smirked.
"Well? I'm waiting."
William shifted his weight.
He stepped in and begin his next exchange with focus.
Left jab.
Sharp.
Direct.
Shanon tilted his head slightly.
The punch cut through empty air.
"Are you kidding me?" Shanon said lazily.
William didn't answer.
He threw another jab—cross—hook combination.
He realized his shortcoming. His styles were….
Technically correct.
Structurally sound.
But—
His shoulder lagged.
His hips rotated late.
His footwork was half a beat slow.
There was no muscle memory.
No trained reflex.
Just intent.
Shanon caught his right wrist mid-strike.
Effortless.
He pivoted and flipped William over his hip.
William slammed onto the ground.
Dust rose.
"Seventh," Shanon said calmly, "I thought you had something interesting."
William pushed himself up immediately.
No anger.
No embarrassment.
He changed stance.
This time—Shaolin guard.
Palm open.
Weight lower.
He flowed into mixed forms—western boxing transitions into eastern trapping hands.
But every motion felt slightly off.
His body wasn't obeying him.
His mind moved faster than his muscles.
Shanon stepped aside casually.
Grab.
Twist.
Throw.
Again.
"Too slow."
William rolled to his feet.
Again.
He attacked.
Low kick.
Palm strike.
Elbow.
Each time—
Shanon avoided with minimal motion.
Sometimes he caught a limb and tossed William aside like a sack.
The crowd's excitement began fading.
Three minutes passed.
William's breathing grew heavier.
Shanon's expression shifted from amusement to mild disappointment.
Inside, William assessed calmly.
Even without Qi, his martial base is near Darren's level.
Good.
At least he's not Darren.
He wiped sweat from his brow.
Then something changed.
William stopped trying to execute perfect techniques.
He started experimenting.
He shortened his strikes.
Reduced power.
Focused on rhythm instead of form.
He used half-feints.
Delayed kicks.
Broken tempo.
He wasn't focusing to win anymore—
He was calibrating.
Shanon noticed.
"Oh?"
William stepped in with a sloppy-looking straight punch.
Shanon reached to parry—
William retracted halfway, dropped low, and pivoted unexpectedly.
His rear leg whipped upward—
A tight, compact hook kick—
CRACK.
It connected squarely against Shanon's jaw.
The sound echoed through the pavilion.
The crowd exploded.
Shanon's head snapped slightly to the side.
Silence followed.
William stepped back into guard.
"One."
Shanon slowly touched his jaw.
Then—
He smiled.
"That's better."
His gaze dropped to William's stance.
The boy's right foot was twisted at an unnatural angle from the earlier exchange.
Shanon frowned slightly.
"Do you need help?" he asked, the mockery gone from his tone.
"I'm fine."
William calmly lifted his foot off the ground.
He rotated his ankle with controlled force—
Crack.
The joint snapped back into place.
He set it down firmly.
Not a groan.
Not a flinch.
The pavilion fell into complete silence.
Even the elders stopped whispering.
Shanon stared at him for a second.
Then he burst into booming laughter.
"Hahaha!"
"Good! That's good!"
He rolled his shoulders and stepped forward.
"I'd be ashamed if I kept playing defense against you."
His posture shifted.
No more relaxed guard.
No more lazy stance.
His weight lowered.
His eyes sharpened.
This time—
He wasn't testing.
Shanon slammed his foot forward and charged swiftly.