The Trial

“Oof!” Francis was caught off guard, staggering and tumbling to the ground.

The blow left Francis drenched in cold sweat, his drunken stupor rapidly dissolving. He instinctively touched his neck, immensely grateful! Though the pain was excruciating, it was far from a fatal wound!

His Lotus Internal Force had just saved his life!

“Never again will I drink so much!” he swore. “Drunkenness only leads to trouble!” Francis scrambled to his feet, his Lotus Internal Force surging wildly, enveloping his entire body. Drawing on his past life's experience dodging stray bullets, he began moving swiftly, his thieving eyes scanning the direction from which the Hydro Wave had struck.

In truth, Francis didn't even need to search. Frith, having missed his first strike, had already cried out in astonishment, “How are you completely unharmed!?”

It wasn't surprising he was startled; the sight before him was truly shocking. Imagine a sharpshooter on Earth landing a perfect sniper shot on an unsuspecting target, only for the target to cry out in pain but emerge utterly unscathed. What would that sharpshooter think? They’d undoubtedly believe they’d just seen a ghost!

The moment the cry escaped his lips, Francis recognized the voice. “Hmph, Frith! Get out here, you coward!”

Frith reluctantly emerged from the shadows, glaring ferociously at Francis. “What kind of protective treasure do you have?! How are you unharmed!?”

Seeing his assailant was alone, Francis stopped moving. He snarled, “Frith, how dare you assault a Titled Battle God Scion without cause? Are you not afraid the Holy Church will send you to the pyre!?”

“Afraid? Of course I’m afraid!” Frith hardened his resolve, a sinister smirk twisting his lips. “But once I’ve killed you, no one will ever know what happened tonight!” He brandished his sacred artifact and began chanting a strange, rhythmic incantation.

Francis subtly scanned his surroundings, confirming Frith had no backup. In the dark alley, they were utterly alone!

What a perfect opportunity! Francis had just been wondering about his own strength, and here was a One-Star Red-Robed Fiend Warrior delivered right to his doorstep! The recent encounter had proven that a slightly advanced First-Tier Lotus Internal Force could defend against a sneak attack from a One-Star fiend battle qi. But what about his offensive power?

Musing on this, Francis watched Frith’s movements carefully, then touched his nose, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Frith, do you really think you’re the only one with a sacred artifact? Come forth, my Ramhorn Warhammer!”

With a flash, the sacred artifact flew from his pocket, transforming into the Ramhorn Warhammer and landing in Francis’s hand. He casually swung it, and a burst of emerald light erupted!

Frith gasped in alarm, his incantation dying on his lips. “You... you stole Kaman’s sacred artifact? Heavens, you *forced* the Ramhorn Warhammer to recognize you as its master!?”

To force a Third-Tier sacred artifact to recognize its master—that was a hallmark of a Nine-Star Battle God!!

“My dear Young Master Frith, did your mother never teach you? One shouldn’t get distracted during a fight, you know!” With that, Francis channeled his Lotus Internal Force, lunged forward like lightning, and swung the hammer at Frith’s shoulder.

Propelled by the Lotus Internal Force, the Ramhorn Warhammer surged with a sudden burst of power the moment Francis struck. This power seamlessly merged with his Lotus Internal Force, indistinguishable from it, elevating Francis’s speed and might to another level.

Francis savored this new sensation. Using the precise numerical sensitivity from his past life, he calculated that the Ramhorn Warhammer boosted his combat power by roughly ten percent. However, the sacred artifact clearly held untapped reserves, but Francis’s current Lotus Internal Force was insufficient to unleash its full potential.

The hammer landed on his shoulder, and Frith screamed, collapsing to the ground!

Francis swung the Ramhorn Warhammer in his hand, clearly dissatisfied with the immediate outcome. “Hey, Frith, are you dead? If not, get up! Young Master isn’t satisfied yet. You were too surprised just now, your reaction was far too slow—that doesn’t count. Let’s go again!”

With that, he delivered a harsh kick to Frith. “Get your damn ass up and fight your Young Master!”

Frith’s shoulder swelled grotesquely from the blow. He gritted his teeth, scrambled to his feet, and immediately encased himself in battle qi for protection. Then he bellowed, “Francis! I’ll tell the Holy Church you’re a thief! You’re dead!”

Francis merely raised an eyebrow at him; he’d already planned everything the moment he dared to reveal his sacred artifact in front of someone. “My dear Young Master Frith, cut the damn nonsense and shut your dog-sired mouth! Come on, let’s keep fighting!”

“Damn it, I’ll go all out against you! Hydro Wave!” Frith shouted. He unleashed another stream of water, while simultaneously widening the distance between himself and Francis—a standard combat tactic for a low-level Fiend Warrior.

Watching the Hydro Wave approach, Francis raised his hammer and met the blue surge with a powerful swing. With a muffled *thwack*, the water jet shattered. Francis felt a dull ache in his chest, but it was nothing serious.

He instantly closed the distance, propelled by the speed granted by his Lotus Internal Force, and brought Frith down with another hammer blow.

Stepping on Frith’s head, Francis asked with a playful grin, “Well, have you figured out your Young Master’s true strength yet?”

“Hmph, you’re merely a One-Star Red-Robed Martial Fighter! How could you possibly force a Third-Tier sacred artifact to recognize you as its master?” Frith unwittingly divulged the information Francis sought, then pondered to himself. “If he’s not a Nine-Star Battle God, then how did Francis force a Third-Tier sacred artifact to recognize him? Ah, I see! He’s playing the pig to eat the tiger, deliberately concealing his true strength!”

At this, Francis released Frith. “Alright, let’s try again! A friendly reminder from your Young Master: if you dare not fight back, or don’t give it your all, I’ll beat you so badly your own mother won’t recognize you!”

Frith got up, was knocked down, got up again, was knocked down again—this cycle repeated itself. Until he was a bruised, battered mess with broken bones, utterly unable to rise. Only then was Francis finally satisfied!

The practical combat had proven that the First-Tier Lotus Internal Force was equivalent to One-Star battle qi. Francis’s current strength should be enough to defeat an ordinary One-Star Fighter. However, he possessed only brute force and speed; his combat techniques and skill were lacking!

“F-Francis, no, don’t kill me!” Frith was terrified. He was beaten beyond human recognition, and his mind was reeling with shock. “How is this possible? How could the disgrace of the Saint Sigurd Cain family possess battle qi? If only I had known, I would have brought more men...”

Alas, the world of Battle Gods offered no elixir for regret. Francis, who had lost count of how many times he’d stepped on Frith’s head, cackled mischievously. “Kill you? Oh no, no, your Young Master never kills anyone. However, I’ll deal with you in a *different* way—a very interesting way!”

Francis was a thief, but not a murderer. Though he knew that killing Frith in the dead of night was the best way to keep his secrets, he simply couldn’t bring himself to bludgeon a living person to death.

Nevertheless, Frith now knew Francis’s secret, and he couldn’t be allowed to simply walk away!

“My dear Young Master Frith, let me teach you another thing: as a noble, you must learn to use the weapon of law to protect yourself. Like this!”

Francis cleared his throat twice, stowed his sacred artifact, and then dramatically collapsed beside Frith. He mussed his clothes and hair, smeared two handfuls of dirt on his face, then screamed in terror, “Help! Murder! Frith is a murderer!!”

Frith stared blankly at Francis, utterly bewildered by his actions.

The shout was loud, yet their prolonged fight hadn’t disturbed anyone, a testament to the alley’s secluded nature. Francis’s first yell failed to attract anyone, so he channeled his Lotus Internal Force and shrieked at the top of his lungs, “Help! Someone save me! In the Seventh District, Frith is trying to kill me!”

Finally, some City Watch soldiers on night duty ambled over. “What’s all this shouting about, in the middle of the night... Heavens! It’s two young masters!”

The moment Francis saw them, he scrambled up from the ground, his face a mask of panic, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “Brave warriors, save—save me! I am Francis of the Saint Sigurd Cain family! Frith, the son of the Minister of Finance, tried to kill me! Thankfully, a masked Battle God descended from the heavens, wielding a sacred artifact that commanded the raging winds, and saved my life! Oh, praise that Battle God!”