CHAPTER 209: DISAPPOINTMENT

Lucas’s grin spread wider, stretching into something sharp and wicked. He could feel the burn of ale in his veins, and instead of dulling him, it seemed to make the moment more delicious. He rose from his chair with no hurry at all, brushing the broken fragments of the mug from his shoulder as though they were nothing more than dust.

The merchant was still breathing hard from his wild swing, his chest heaving, his face twisted with the ugliness of his temper. But before his mind could settle, before he could truly process what was about to happen, Lucas vanished from his sight.

In the blink of an eye, Lucas closed the gap. One heartbeat, and he was there, standing nose to nose with the merchant, his shadow falling over him. The entire inn went silent. Even the creak of the old wooden floorboards seemed to pause.

The speed. That speed was unmistakable. Every pair of eyes widened, and a murmur rippled through the crowd.

"By the heavens," a man whispered, his voice trembling. "That’s the speed of a grandmaster cultivator."

Another clutched his neighbor’s sleeve and nodded quickly. "I heard the rumors. They said he clashed with Prince Khan in the streets and lived to mock him. I thought it was exaggeration, but now..." His voice trailed away, drowned by the collective intake of breath around him.

The merchant froze, wide-eyed for a fraction of a second, staring at Lucas’s raised fist about to descend. But shock was a fleeting thing. In the next instant, something hardened in his gaze. He twisted his body sharply, his robes fluttering as if caught by an unseen wind, and Lucas’s strike met only air.

The onlookers gasped. "He dodged it!" someone shouted, half in disbelief, half in awe.

Lucas pulled back slightly, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. His grin faltered just enough to reveal something else beneath it...interest.

"Well now," Lucas said, his voice low but carrying easily in the tense silence. "Didn’t expect that from a merchant."

The merchant straightened his back, the anger in his face replaced by something colder, sharper. "And you thought me a fool, boy? I am no common trader. I am a cultivator in my own right."

The words struck the crowd like a wave. Shocked exclamations broke out, men and women alike leaning away from the table. "He’s a grandmaster too!" someone cried, and another muttered, "He hid it all this time..."

Lucas tilted his head, amusement glinting in his eyes once more. "A grandmaster merchant. Interesting. I almost like you."

The two men circled one another slowly, the air between them heavy with tension. Those closest to them scrambled back, dragging chairs out of the way and overturning tables. Some hurried for the door, whispering prayers under their breath. They knew well what it meant when two grandmasters clashed in such a confined space.

As for the innkeeper, he stood behind his counter with a pale face and trembling hands. He knew his livelihood was already gone. "My poor inn," he muttered under his breath, his voice breaking. "It will not see the morning."

The crowd pressed themselves against the walls, leaving the center clear. It was instinct more than reason; no one wished to be caught between the two forces about to collide.

And the girls? Selene leaned forward eagerly, her eyes blazing with firelight from the lanterns. She bit her lip to hold back a laugh. "Finally, something worth watching."

Nyx’s lips curved into a smile, cool and sharp, while Lira clasped her hands together and whispered, "Show him, Lucas. Make him regret standing against you."

The air grew heavy, the room shrinking with the weight of anticipation. A fight between two grandmasters was no small thing. Wood would splinter, walls would crumble, and the earth itself might shake before it was done.

And yet, Lucas only smirked again, his wicked grin returned, savoring every heartbeat before the storm.

Lucas sneered, the corners of his lips curving into that infuriating smile that made men itch to strike him. His voice rang clear, carrying over the tense silence in the inn. "Your prince gave me no hard time at all," he said, each word deliberate and heavy with mockery. He tilted his head slightly, eyes locked on the merchant. "I can only hope that you’ll be more entertaining than him."

A ripple of discontent swept through the crowd. Faces turned dark, and mutters rose from every corner of the room.

"How dare he insult the prince again?" a man spat, clenching his fists.

"He mocks Prince Khan as though he were nothing," another whispered in disbelief.

Some even shook their heads, unable to believe the arrogance on display. "This boy is insane. To ridicule the heir of Lechia so openly... does he have no sense of his own life?"

The merchant’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with fury. "You think you’re clever," he said coldly, his voice carrying a quiet threat. "But words will not shield you from me. I’ll teach you the price of arrogance."

Without another moment’s hesitation, the merchant unleashed his power. Flames roared to life at his fingertips, twisting upward into spirals that scorched the air, then bursting into spheres of molten fire that streaked toward Lucas. The heat alone made the spectators recoil, some shielding their faces as the fire lit up the inn like a second sun.

Lucas stood calmly, his hands clasped behind his back. The fireballs tore through the air, but a shimmer of dense Qi flared around him, dissolving each one into harmless sparks before they could touch him.

The merchant did not relent. He swept his hands outward, summoning jagged shards of earth that shot from the floorboards, and with another motion, blades of wind sliced forward, sharp enough to cut through steel.

Still, Lucas remained where he was, his expression cool and almost lazy, as though he were watching children play. The shards shattered against his barrier, the wind lost its edge, and the spectators gasped as each attack fizzled away.

"Impossible," a man cried out, his voice shaking. "How can he block everything so easily?"

"He’s not even moving," another whispered, his eyes wide. "He hasn’t taken a single step back."

The merchant’s brow furrowed, sweat starting to bead at his temples. He shifted his stance and struck again, this time weaving fire and wind together. A towering column of flame shot forward, twisting like a living serpent as it lunged for Lucas. The walls shook with the heat, and some in the crowd screamed, ducking for cover.

Lucas let out a low chuckle, the sound maddening to the merchant’s ears. With a simple flick of his wrist, his barrier thickened, and the fiery serpent slammed into it and dissolved into a cloud of smoke and embers.

"You could attack him," Nyx whispered, her voice low but audible to Selene and Lira. "You could end this in one strike."

Selene smirked, leaning on the table with one hand. "But that’s not Lucas’s style. Look at him. He’s enjoying this. He’s dragging it out just to humiliate the poor fool."

Lira bit her lip nervously, though her eyes never left Lucas. "He’s toying with him... but the merchant doesn’t even realize it."

The merchant’s fury grew with every passing moment. His attacks became wilder, more desperate, fireballs, wind blades, and ice shards flung in rapid succession. Each one failed, dissipating the instant they reached Lucas’s barrier. The crowd could scarcely believe their eyes.

"That man is a grandmaster," someone said, disbelief heavy in their tone. "His attacks are enough to destroy a small army."

"But this boy..." another added, shaking his head, "this boy treats them like nothing."

Lucas finally uncrossed his arms and stretched lazily, as though he had grown bored. His eyes glittered with amusement, and he spoke in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is this all? If you’re trying to tire me out, I should warn you. You could spend the night and the next day, and still you wouldn’t put a dent in my Qi. I could drag this along as long as you like. Can you say the same?"

The words cut through the merchant like a blade. His face flushed with both rage and the first hints of doubt. The crowd murmured louder, some nodding, some covering their mouths in shock.

Lucas’s grin returned, wicked and triumphant. He had no need to attack. His endless well of Qi and his defensive barrier alone were enough to grind the merchant’s pride into dust.

The battle had only just begun, but everyone in the inn could already feel it. One man was fighting for his pride, the other was merely playing.

And Lucas was enjoying every second of it.

The girls, caught every whisper and murmur of the crowd. The words of admiration, awe, and even disbelief reached their ears, and they could not help but feel incredibly pleased. Nyx’s lips curved into a proud smile, her eyes gleaming as though she herself had been the one praised. Selene leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms and nodding in smug satisfaction. Lira clasped her hands together on her lap, her face bright with excitement, her chest swelling with pride at every compliment Lucas received.

"This is the man we chose to follow," Nyx murmured softly, her tone both fierce and affectionate. "Let them talk. Their words are only the truth."

Selene tilted her chin and whispered back, "I almost pity that merchant. To think he imagined he could shame Xavier. Instead, he’s the one being made a fool in front of the people." She chuckled lowly, her voice dripping with scorn. "What a pathetic sight."

Lira, gentler as always, glanced at Lucas with adoring eyes. "He doesn’t even need to fight back," she said in wonder. "He’s simply standing there."

Their pride grew with each passing moment, but Lucas himself did not share in their excitement. He stood amidst the fading haze of fire and smoke, arms still folded, his expression calm but with the faintest trace of disappointment hidden beneath his smirk. His eyes, sharp and discerning, were not fixed on the merchant’s frenzied attacks but rather on the bigger picture.

The merchant was stronger than Khan, of that much he was certain. His techniques were sharper, his control steadier, his pace relentless. Yet for Lucas, it still was not enough. Each strike dissolved into nothing against his Qi barrier, each attempt at overwhelming him fell short of even scratching his defenses. He had come expecting resistance, perhaps even challenge, but all he found was another cultivator out of his depth.

He let out a sigh, subtle but audible to those closest to him. "So this is it?" he muttered under his breath, almost as if speaking to himself. "Stronger than the prince, yes... but still not enough."

The merchant, thinking the words were meant for him, snarled in anger. "Arrogant boy! You dare mock me even now? You won’t be laughing when I tear that smirk off your face!" He roared as he gathered more Qi, the floor beneath his feet cracking from the force.

But Lucas barely glanced at him, his thoughts elsewhere. He was no longer concerned with the outcome of this fight. In truth, he had already won the moment he decided to step into the game. What weighed on his mind was something entirely different....his own strength, his own path.

I need more than this, he thought, his eyes glinting with determination. If I am to grow, if I am to test my limits, I cannot waste time with opponents who cannot even force me to release my aura. I need someone stronger... much stronger. Only then will I know the depth of my power.

The contrast was stark. The crowd looked at Lucas and saw a boy standing victorious, untouchable, almost godlike in the face of danger. The girls looked at him and saw their protector, their pride, their bond made manifest. The merchant looked at him and saw an opponent he could not move no matter how much strength he poured into the battle. But Lucas, standing in the center of it all, looked at the situation and saw only one thing....disappointment.