--

"Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that." Ren smirked at the hate-filled glares he received from the youth of the White Haven Clan.

"I didn’t say shit when you all came swaggering into our clan."

"I didn’t say shit when that idiot over there taunted us," he said, pointing to Marcel.

"You get what you deserve, yeah?" Ren wiggled his brows in amusement. "Besides, I won’t hurt you that much. If I do, it’s going to be fine; we have loads of potions to shove up your throat. You’ll live."

"So come on! Fight me. Or are you that much of a pussy to accept?"

This was a blatant attempt at provocation; it was not hidden whatsoever, and everybody knew it.

That said, Mikel didn’t say anything to stop Ren. He trusted his nephew. Although his words were crass and rude, Mikel knew that Ren wasn’t the reckless type. That boy has matured beyond his age.

He’s sending a message here, and Mikel, as the clan leader, supported whatever he was doing.

The five prodigies of the White Haven Clan felt their teeth itching at Ren’s cockiness. They oh-so-badly wanted to bash his face in to prove him wrong.

They’re not that stupid to see that Ren was doing this on purpose. But their pride latched on before they knew it, and it definitely won’t let go until there’s a resolution today.

"Does that boy’s words represent your will, Clan Leader Mikel?"

One of the elders of the White Haven Clan spoke through gritted teeth.

Hearing this, Mikel wanted to sneer loudly, but he held back.

’Heh, addressing me by my title all of a sudden? You think that you can pressure me through that? ’Naive,’ Mikel thought inwardly.

"Haha! Well, today’s youth are really precarious, won’t you say so too, Elder? As resolute practitioners of martial arts, don’t you find this nostalgic? Who wasn’t hot-headed, prideful, and confident back in their youth? Even I was the same back then. Ah, I remember those days fondly."

"As for this, well...let kids be kids. I assure you, my nephew doesn’t have ill intentions. He’s just propagating the spirit of competition. Peer pressure is one of the elements that enriches our martial arts, after all."

"Whether your prodigies accept my nephew’s challenge or not, I’ll leave that decision to you. Whatever the outcome is, I sincerely hope that today will be fondly remembered by both our clans as a way to reminisce about past connections."

’Shameless! ’The elders of the White Haven Clan spat inwardly as they heard Mikel’s flowery words.

Mikel sure looked thuggish, but he certainly has a way with words. His physical appearance seriously made them forget that they were talking to a more experienced clan leader, one that was wiser than their own.

Now, the elders are in a dilemma. Should they let their prodigies accept the challenge or not?

They weren’t fools. They could tell Ren hadn’t displayed some real skills yet. He dismantled and embarrassed their youth with mere tricks, sure, but this doesn’t mean that he’s weak.

"Tell us, Clan Leader Mikel...what’s the grade of your nephew’s martial physique?"

One of the elders asked the question that the others have all been wondering. Because to them, this doesn’t make sense.

If Ren had a rare grade martial physique or something higher, then sure, that would make sense. They’d understand how he easily dismantled their prodigies. But so far, Ren hadn’t shown signs of it.

Or more specifically, their prodigies weren’t nearly strong enough to force it out of him.

"I can answer that!"

Instead of Mikel, it was Ren who responded, catching everybody’s attention.

"Sorry for speaking out of turn. But I heard you asking my uncle what my martial physique’s grade was, and I felt compelled to answer since...you know, it’s my physique, after all."

He paused and faced the elders of the White Haven Clan.

"It’s Common Grade 1," Ren revealed. "My martial physique is only Common Grade 1. The best of the worst. Well, not counting the one I was born with, but yeah...it’s not that special."

"Impossible!" One of the elders quietly exclaimed.

Even the youth of the White Haven Clan were shocked and too stunned to speak.

Common Grade 1. Unbelievable. Their prodigies were played like clowns with somebody whose talent was only the best of the worst.

Ren had the same talent grade as Marcel, Hayden, and John. His talent was inferior to Charles and Jason, and he’s younger than all of five of them too!

The elders of the clan looked to Mikel for confirmation. And since Ren had no qualms revealing this, Mikel had no reason to hide it either.

"It’s exactly as he says," he confirmed. "My nephew was blessed by awakening a common grade 1 martial physique. It’s not bad. Your prodigies are better, though. You even have 2 with rare grade martial physiques. As clan leader, I am a little bit envious of your clan’s fortune."

Mikel’s praise sounds genuine, but to the White Haven Clan, it’s an undisguised mockery to them.

Two kids with rare-grade martial physiques lost to somebody with inferior talent and shorter training time. Mikel wasn’t praising them; he was reminding them that they’ve slacked off and gotten too confident of their talents.

And this was on top of Ren being a member of this clan, which meant having the Banished Arsenal Martial Physique—an aberrant martial physique that prevents him from using weapons.

Ren didn’t bother hiding the mark of his cursed physique. The dense sleeve tattoo covering both his arms, starting from his fingers and extending up to the lower parts of his neck and about halfway through his pectorals, was there for all to see.

Learning that the one who embarrassed them turned out to be someone inferior just made them feel even more bitter.

If the results of their previous matches earlier were disappointing and stung their hearts, now it’s simply unacceptable and it cuts deep into their chest.

The only way to remedy this is by defeating Ren to regain some of their lost dignity.

Sure, ganging up on him doesn’t sound honorable, but it’s a good place to start. At the very least, it will remind them that Ren wasn’t invincible. That he’s not some unscalable wall that they’d never be able to pass, one that would block them from reaching their full potential.

The prodigies are one in mind; that’s why when they looked at their elders, their intentions were clear for everybody to see.

They want to fight.

And seeing that, well...any of the caution the elders felt earlier melted a little bit.

Mikel’s words might sound like nonsense earlier, but they contain some truth. Peer pressure was, indeed, one of the crucial pieces that completes one’s martial arts experience.

Everybody had their moments; martial artists are raised to fight. A little bit of rivalry and competition here and there helps propagate the prosperity of martial arts.

"Fine. Have it your way."

The Elders finally relented. In the end, they already had a feeling that this won’t end well. The clan leader’s going to chew their asses for this, but it’s also the kids’ wishes.

With that permission given, the five prodigies once again got up to the arena. This time, all five of them came up at the same time. They formed a line with their weapons out, glaring fiercely at Ren, who’s still wearing that lopsided smirk on his face.

"...at the very least, make me sweat this time, yeah?" Ren muttered softly, but his words were still loud enough for the prodigies to hear.

His words fanned the flames of vengeance in them. Their grip on their weapons got tighter and their eyes more determined.

It doesn’t help that Ren still hadn’t gone into a stance. He’s still standing still like he couldn’t even be bothered at all.

"Go on, get your chakra flowing. I won’t interfere, I promise. Do it fast because you’ll need it soon."

Ren’s words continued to infuriate them. But the worst part is that he’s right, and they knew it too. As much as they hated it, they still did what he told them to do anyway.

It feels so wrong and so humiliating, but they can’t do anything about it.

And so, they began generating chakra. They’re properly spaced out so as to not be in the way of their allies.

What Ren didn’t know is that these five prodigies were experienced in team fights. They regularly team up to spar against the elders of the clan, ones that are more powerful than all of them combined.

They never won, of course. But winning was not really the point; no, it’s never that. It’s an experience.

It’s the clan’s way of reminding them that they’re not invincible, that there will always be someone better than them. A way to humble them, if you will.

But they’re young men blessed with talent and had grown used to being praised about it. They knew it was never serious, so they never took it seriously.

In their mind, they were convinced that they were peerless.

That’s, of course, until they met a giant wall named Ren.