Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System-Chapter 102: One Punch to Decide
One Punch to Decide
The exorcists watched Julian D’Aurelius with growing awe.
What is a true master?
Powerful.
Low-key.
Deeply loyal.
Not loud. Not reckless.
A man who stands still when the storm comes.
Rex Valquin’s composure finally cracked. His palms were damp, his breathing uneven.
"What should we do now?" he asked hoarsely.
He could not watch his son die.
But he could not let his nephew die in his place either.
Evan had just dismantled more than ten professionally trained bodyguards as if they were children. His strength was beyond common sense.
Even if they called the authorities, they would never arrive in time.
If only he had spent more money. Hired true experts. Guarded the estate better.
Regret clawed at his chest.
"Believe in him," Gwen said quietly, though her fingers were trembling.
She bit her lip until it nearly bled. There was no other choice now.
Hatred burned in her eyes when she looked at Evan.
That bastard.
If she ever had the chance—she would kill him herself.
Outside, the night air carried the faint scent of damp stone and trimmed grass. The courtyard lamps flickered in the wind.
Julian stepped forward and took a slow breath.
"You can let him go now."
His tone was calm, almost casual.
Evan snorted.
"Finally acting like a man and daring to stand up. Playing dirty—what does that count for?"
With a sharp shove, he threw Mike aside.
Several bodyguards rushed forward and caught their young master before he hit the ground.
Evan crossed his arms and looked at Julian with naked contempt.
"Don’t say I bully you. I’ll let you throw three punches first. If I even flinch, I’ll never set foot in Valemont again."
In his eyes, Julian was nothing but a rich young master playing hero.
As a martial arts expert, Evan could see through him instantly. No stance. No killing aura. No disciplined breath control.
Weak.
Let him throw one punch?
Even a hundred wouldn’t hurt.
Julian folded his own arms. His golden eyes gleamed faintly under the courtyard lights.
"You go first," he said lazily. "Hitting you would dirty my fists."
A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd.
Initiate the attack?
He wasn’t stupid.
(If I rush him, I’ll just be giving this bastard a free massage.)
The Tyrant System hadn’t given him any offensive ancient martial arts skills.
Right now, the only cards he held were the undestroyable Barrier Skill and the Favour Return Strike.
Both single-use.
Both bound to the system’s invisible leash.
Inside him, two streams of energy coiled like silent dragons.
Even though they could only be used once, they had both reached the Great Perfection stage.
The first could withstand one full-force attack.
The second could return the damage—double.
The exorcists whispered among themselves.
"As expected of Young Master D’Aurelius. This is the demeanor of a true master."
"Indeed. Why should he take initiative against such a petty man?"
"With his abilities, defeating that fellow would be like crushing an insect."
They were completely convinced.
In their eyes, Julian was already standing on a higher realm.
Evan’s expression darkened.
"You’re courting death!"
He hated being looked down upon.
He was one of the Obsidian Kings.
In Africa. In the Middle East. Everywhere he walked, people trembled.
And now—
A spoiled heir dared mock him?
All his accumulated resentment exploded at once.
With a roar, he stepped forward and launched himself at Julian.
But he did not use his full strength.
He couldn’t kill him.
He wanted him broken. Crippled.
Left to watch the D’Aurelius family collapse.
They were only three meters apart.
For someone of Evan’s caliber, that distance was nothing.
In less than a blink, he closed it.
His fist shot forward—straight into Julian’s chest.
The sound of impact was dull. Heavy.
But strange.
Instead of bone cracking or flesh collapsing, it felt like punching into thick cotton.
Julian did not move.
Not even half a step.
Not even a tremor.
Evan’s pupils contracted.
What—
Inside Julian, the undestroyable Barrier Skill absorbed the terrifying force like a silent ocean swallowing a storm.
The energy surged inward—
Then was seized by the Favour Return Strike.
Converted.
Refined.
Amplified.
Julian felt a blazing torrent gather into his right arm. His veins throbbed. His bones hummed.
Power.
Pure, violent power.
He clenched his fist.
And punched.
To everyone watching, it looked slow.
Almost lazy.
But the moment his knuckles touched Evan’s body—
The air cracked.
A sudden wave tore through the air, much like a gunshot up close.
Evan’s eyes widened.
Still dazed by his clumsy attack, he stumbled forward. The momentum carried him too far. His balance wavered. Thoughts lagged behind motion. A sharp breath broke the silence. Ground met knees before understanding did.
A split hesitation ruined his chances. One blink of doubt took it all away.
BOOM!
Fists belong to Julian. They moved fast. Straight ahead. Into Evan’s chest it went. Impact followed.
A strength like that came through only once in a lifetime.
A gasp escaped Evan when the blow hit, stealing his breath. Mid-thought, upward he went - feet leaving earth - as if yanked by invisible strings.
"WHOA - !"
A sudden burst sent him flying across the open yard, body tumbling headfirst. Momentum ripped him past stone edges, arms flailing without grip. The ground rushed away beneath his heels. Air clapped against his face as he moved too fast to steer.
Blinking hardly fit into their day.
Flying through the air, Evan covered a stretch of meters -
A sudden impact shattered the quiet - water sprayed as stone met sculpture head-on. The fountain listed sideways now, its base cracked like dropped porcelain. Motion stopped short amid scattered pebbles and broken flow. A moment earlier it had been moving fast; now only ripples remained.
Unfortunately for him...
Besides water, something odd moved inside it.
A twist of carved dolphins climbed the form, tails jutting skyward through the pattern. Stone figures coiled higher one after another, shaping a rhythm in solid rock.
And Evan?
Foot met spike without warning.
THUD!
" - !!!"
Every muscle locked tight. Stillness took hold without warning.
A hush fell, as if the world held its breath. Then nothing moved.
Color drained from his cheeks next moment.
Then red.
A hue of purple so new it might not exist in any lab just yet.
A sharp piece of marble hit right where it hurt most.
Footsteps echoed as a sharp agony ripped through his lower back, racing upward without warning. Pain surged along his spine, sudden as a storm breaking behind his eyes.
Evan trembled violently.
His mouth opened.
Just silence followed.
Far from numb, yet that wasn’t the reason.
His voice shut down, overwhelmed by how much it hurt.
A hush fell over the people when Evan began slipping along the slick rock ridge. Down he went, quiet, until his body hit the earth.
Something snapped softly as he landed on the ground.
A leg tightened without thinking inside the group. One person near the back felt it happen before they even noticed.
Some of the men standing guard flinched, almost feeling it themselves.
Frozen in place, Evan pressed flat against the dirt, his body shaking as if caught in a gust too fierce to stand.
Fingers scraped slow across the rough rock.
Every part of him trembled without warning.
From his throat came a odd gagging noise.
"Ghh...!"
Finally—
Pfft!
He spat out a mouthful of blood onto the courtyard tiles.
The pain from the punch had been brutal.
But the landing?
That was a tragedy of legendary proportions.
One of the bystanders whispered nervously,
"...Did... did he just get... speared?"
Another man rubbed his forehead.
"I think every man here just felt that."
A bodyguard beside him slowly nodded with a pale face.
"...I’m going to walk differently for the rest of the day."
Meanwhile, Evan tried to stand up.
He pushed against the ground—
—and immediately collapsed again.
His legs simply refused to cooperate.
The courtyard fell into dead silence.
Everyone’s eyes slowly turned toward the man who had thrown that punch.
Young Master Julian stood calmly where he was.
His posture relaxed.
His expression indifferent.
As if sending a grown man flying across the courtyard was the most normal thing in the world.
Gasps spread through the crowd.
"That guy just took down more than ten bodyguards earlier..."
"And Young Master Julian knocked him away with one punch."
"Not just knocked him away... look at him! He can’t even stand!"
Their voices carried shock.
Fear.
Respect.
The difference in strength was obvious.
It wasn’t even close.
Evan struggled on the ground, still shaking from the devastating "tail strike."
Meanwhile, Young Master Julian casually dusted off his sleeve as if he had merely swatted away an annoying fly.
And that calm reaction made the scene even more terrifying.
