Chapter 187: Fight me

"He actually dared to come all the way out here?"

A soft-spoken woman asked, nudging her companions as they watched a heavy armored convoy dismount inside the citadel’s lower gates. The sudden arrival had immediately drawn a massive, curious crowd along the inner stone walkways and outer battlements.

It was already common knowledge across the entire territory that the new Warden of the Thousand Beast Citadel had sent a formal challenge to the Youth Leader of the Ascendant faction. A mere Tier 5 summoner openly provoking an authentic Demi-god was practically unheard of.

Yet nobody in the fortress had expected Eren to accept the invitation in person without sending intermediaries first.

"Well, you can never really predict what goes through the minds of people standing at that level," one of the women beside her replied, leaning over the stone railing with a low giggle. "You have to admit he’s stunning, though."

The surrounding spectators quietly nodded, their eyes fixed on the tall man leading the entourage across the broad courtyard pavers. The Youth Leader of the Ascendant faction possessed stark white hair, sharp features, and calm, dreamy eyes that gave him the look of a finely carved marble statue.

His appearance alone commanded immediate attention wherever he went. Standing well over six feet tall, his relaxed posture and effortless stride gave him an almost otherworldly presence among the common soldiers and laborers.

Still, looks were the least impressive thing about him. Eren the Blazing Star was widely recognized as one of the most frightening combat geniuses the Bastion had produced in the last century.

"Boss, this whole trip was completely unnecessary," a senior Ascendant officer muttered, walking half a step behind him with a troubled frown. "He’s just an unranked newcomer riding his luck. Gracing him with your personal presence like this... I’m worried it sends the wrong signal—"

"A nobody who managed to survive two separate incidents involving real gods?" Eren smiled, his voice smooth and untroubled. "You have quite the sense of humor, Marcus."

The officer’s mouth snapped shut, and he didn’t dare utter another complaint. Eren kept walking at an easy, unhurried pace, soaking in the sights of the newly fortified citadel without showing the slightest trace of hostility.

"Besides, I’m just dropping by to see what he’s made of," Eren added lightly, waving a hand toward the ramparts. "He is an official Bastion member now, after all."

A faint, amused grin played across the young leader’s lips as he tilted his head toward the highest balcony of the inner keep. Standing on the stone terrace overlooking the entire courtyard were two quiet figures.

One was obviously Ethen Algar. Strapped firmly across his back were the wool-wrapped Demi-god saber and the Storm Crossbow, his posture rigid and ready for war.

His dark eyes bore directly into Eren from above, completely devoid of warmth. Ethen had sent the formal duel request himself, and his stance showed he was fully prepared to draw steel on a moment’s notice.

However, as Eren’s lazy gaze shifted toward the second figure standing on the balcony, his relaxed expression tightened. His pale brows furrowed into an uncharacteristic frown.

It wasn’t the naked blonde man himself that caught his eye. It was what the man was holding so casually against his chest.

A small, translucent squid-like creature sat comfortably in Adam’s hands, its tiny tentacles squirming lazily in the cold air. Eren stared hard at the bizarre little beast, his dreamy eyes narrowing into sharp, calculating slits.

*’A Demi-god beast?’*

The realization struck him instantly, sending a subtle ripple of shock through his calm core. The creature’s outward pressure was well-concealed, but as an authentic Demi-god himself, Eren could easily spot the dense spiritual authority humming inside its tiny body.

That revelation immediately brought up a glaring question: how in the world had a genuine Demi-god beast ended up resting peacefully in the hands of a subordinate standing beside a Tier 5 summoner?

He didn’t ask out loud. Not just yet.

The Ascendant convoy made its way up the wide spiral staircases until they reached the high balcony. A formal reception area had already been arranged on the terrace, offering a sweeping view of the wild flatlands rolling out beneath the citadel.

"It’s an honor to meet you, Youth Leader," Ethen greeted the arriving guest cordially, taking his place at the center of the terrace without bowing his head.

His expression remained perfectly steady. Ethen had led the Algar clan through blood and political maneuvering for years, dealing with arrogant patriarchs, ruthless merchant guilds, and regional warlords long before stepping foot into the Bastion.

Several veteran officers of the Algar clan were stationed inside this very fortress right now. Ethen understood elite protocol inside and out, and there was zero reason to turn this into an ugly brawl before the actual contest even began.

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Warden of the Thousand Beast Citadel," Eren replied with a polite smile, taking an empty chair across the long dining table.

The two young commanders sat directly facing one another in the open mountain breeze. Neither displayed overt aggression, yet the guards stationed along the terrace held their breath, well aware of the deadly friction hanging in the air.

Eren stood as the undisputed golden child of the Ascendant faction. The faction itself was built around promoting raw talent over ancestral lineage, and its rising stars had claimed victory across dozens of border campaigns.

Because of that explosive momentum, many elders believed the Ascendants would eventually eclipse every traditional faction in the Bastion given enough time. As a result, their top prodigies were treated with immense respect across the human kingdoms.

Especially Eren the Blazing Star. He wasn’t merely another promising rookie; he had crossed the divine divide into the Demi-god realm, making Ethen’s sudden challenge the talk of the entire mountain.

As the guests settled into their seats, attendants began wheeling out a lavish spread of hot food across the long banquet table. Dishes crafted with rare culinary techniques from Bark sat beside heavy platters of roasted, spiced meats sourced directly from the Lumberg Republic.

The Thousand Beast Citadel had rapidly transformed into a melting pot of different cultures since changing hands. With merchants and fighters traveling in from every corner of the human territories, their local culinary habits had naturally followed.

Eren scanned the feast with mild interest until his eyes locked onto a massive silver platter at the center of the table.

"Hmm," Eren murmured, the edges of his mouth curling upward. "A whole roasted Heffer Gazelle. You really went all out for this reception, Warden."

He raised a single finger, using an invisible thread of telekinetic force to slide the heavy metal tray smoothly across the polished wood. Picking up a heavy carving knife and fork with his left hand, he neatly sliced off a thick, steaming slab of prime meat.

Ethen and the West Wall officers looked on in silence as Eren began to eat.

One slab disappeared in seconds. Then another. Then three more followed without a single pause for breath.

He tore through the massive beast at a terrifying speed, yet his posture remained shockingly graceful. His back stayed straight, his cuts were clean and surgical, and his movements carried the effortless polish of an ancient noble dining in a palace hall.

Yet the rate at which the mountain of seasoned food vanished into his throat completely shattered that aristocratic image. Within minutes, the entire gazelle had been stripped clean to polished bone.

Eren set his silver utensils down onto the tray with a soft click, letting out a satisfied breath.

"Haha, excuse my lack of manners," he said, picking up a white cloth napkin to wipe his lips. "A Demi-god’s body burns through energy at an absurd rate, so our appetites can get a little out of hand."

Ethen stared at the empty platter for a few beats before giving a dry, understanding nod.

"I can see that quite clearly," Ethen replied calmly, raising a hand to signal a waiting attendant. "Pour the Youth Leader some of our private reserve wine."

The servant hurried forward with a crystal decanter, filling Eren’s wide goblet with dark, aromatic wine. As the glass filled, Eren leaned back against his wooden chair with a heavy, relaxed slouch.

A loud, unbothered burp slipped past his lips, echoing off the stone terrace.

He didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest, resting his chin on his palm as he stared across the table at Ethen. His dreamy, statue-like face settled back into a cool, assessing smirk.

"So..." Eren murmured, lifting the goblet toward his mouth with two fingers.

The amused smirk on his lips widened into something distinctly dangerous.

"I’m told you want to pick a fight with me."

Ethen didn’t flinch beneath the sudden pressure rolling off the white-haired prodigy.

Instead, he slowly leaned forward against the table, his fingers interlocking over the polished wood as the mountain wind whipped between them.

The quiet tension on the balcony snapped tight, waiting for the spark to catch.