Chapter 127: Scam (2)

Finally, Theiron seemed to recognise Wrik, noticing the familiar pair of glowing eyes. His mouth twisted into an ugly scowl as he pulled his sword to block the move from Wrik. 

Wrik put forth most of his strength, adding mana reinforcement, [Eye of Insights], and swung at his opponent. His arms moved swiftly, matching his footsteps, as he showered dozens of swift moves on Theiron. He did not give the noble son any move to retaliate. 

Under Disadvantage, Theiron triggered the ability that enables him to pull the fear into anyone. The ability he had used on Anton once. A suffocating aura burst forth from him, strangling towards his opponent, yet the eyes of his opponent did not show any hint of fear, still glowing with the cold light.

That meant Wrik beat him in perception thoroughly. That was why his ability was of no use. Theiron could not believe it, even if someone had more perception than him, it should not be this overwhelming, as both of them were participants almost at the same age. 

Wrik did not waste time conversing with his opponent. Nor did he let him know his ability could even double his perception anytime he wants. It was time to finish the duel. He broke the mana defence on the side of Theiron, and few other places.

When his opponent was busy protecting those spots, Wrik moved sideways and hit Theiron on the arm with the hilt of the sword. Even though it was not the blade, it was coated with mana. The poor youth let out a yelp, dropping his sword.

How could Wrik miss this chance? But contrary to his opponent, who was busy protecting his vitals, Wrik did not attack him with the sword, but moved behind him to strangle him with his elbow, pulling him down. 

It did not take long for Wrik to get what he wanted. Theiron struggled for a few seconds before passing out.

Wrik sighed out a deep breath. Half of the job was done. The other half only left, the part that did not include any combat, but convincing this noble son to agree with him. 

In his right mind, Theiron would never agree with anything Wrik would say—that was why Wrik had to strangle him unconscious. And that was not enough either to convince this guy. 

He did not waste a moment bringing out the papers he took from Dairyl. He took the left arm of the noble son and wrapped the paper, then infused mana into it. 

A truculent notification appeared in his retina, confirming the connection as he let go of the arm collecting the paper. There was no runic pattern in it now, it was transferred into a brand—identical to a slave brand, on the left arm of Theiron. 

Wrik never planned to overpower Theiron in leaving the trial, nor make him a slave. All he wanted was to scam this fellow.

He looked around the room to find a glass of water beside the bed on the stool. Wrik took it with the stool. Bringing it forward, he showered it in the unconscious figure before taking a seat on the stool. 

Meanwhile, Anton opened the door. More like breaking it civilly. It appeared he had no problem with his job. He nodded to Wrik and asked, "This went rather easily."

"Well, all left is our friend waking up," Wrik said, glancing at Theiron on the floor. He raised an eyebrow at the guy, then smiled. "Ton, would give a kick in his ass, he's taking too long to wake up."

"With pleasure," Anton said. He was about to give a kick when the noble son woke up. 

Theiron was faking it. Wrik had not strangled him that badly. With the recovery power of maha mana, he should have woken up in a minute or two. 

"You don't need to be worried. We don't want your fortress," Wrik said slowly.

"What do you want?" Theiron asked with an angry scowl. 

"Check your left arm first," Wrik said. 

Theiron did as he was asked, checked his arm to notice the brand there. His expression turned even uglier. " You? You? How dare you? Do you know who I am?"

"Doesn't matter for now," Wrik said, pulling out more papers from his cloak. It was the maha contract and the other paper scribbled with runes. "You have two options now, Master Theiron. First, be a slave and do as we told you. Second, cooperate with us and I will remove the brand."

"Fuck you," was all Theiron said. He knew the slave brand could not control his will entirely, nor would it be a permanent thing. All he needed was a way out from here. He had other means to destroy the brand.

Wrik did not have to say anything to Anton. He smacked the head of Theiron for wasting time.

"I think you are mistaken, Master Theiron," Wrik said, showing the other paper with a runic pattern in it to Theiron. "That was not a brand we brought from the omega store. It was custom made just for you. Only this thing in my hand here or an actual Designer could break it."

Theiron's jaw throbbed. "You?" his cheeks flushed red in anger, but with the anger came a deep-seated arrogance that won't bow down to anyone. 

Wrik noticed that as well. His eyes flashed with interest. It appeared this noble would not go down easily. 'Guess, I have to hit where hurts the most,' Wrik decided.

"I recall, your father is a respectable man in the tower, is he not?" Theiron gave no reply, but Wrik did not mind. He continued, "I wonder how he would feel when he learned his son could not even pass the very first test. Such a shame to an honourable man like him." 

Wrik noticed the fear hidden in Theiron' s expression. 'Bullseye,' he thought, 'I knew this guy had daddy issues.' Wrik only heard once, but he remembered the fearful expression of Theiron when Harakatz, the manager of the sanctuary, mentioned to him about his father. 

"Would he be disappointed or ashamed?" Wrik continued. "I know he could make sure you pass this round, but would not that be shameful for him."

"Giving birth to such a son was shameful itself," Anton added fuel to the fire.. 

"Why disappoint your father further? When can you get what you want with just a little cooperation?" Wrik said. "All you have to do is sign this maha contract here, and I will let you go from the brand. You will keep the fortress and your will with your men. Not even a soul outside this room would know about your shameful appearances. How does that sound win-win for both of us, right?"

Wrik stood up from the stool and walked towards Theiron. He held the contract towards the guy, saying, "Or you could be a disappointment to your father all your life. Choose." 

Theiron squinted his nose, sighing he took the contract. His eyes skimmed through the pages. Surprisingly, he found the clauses not that hard. As Wrik mentioned, he would keep his men, but would have to listen to Wrik or his companions. And as for the fortress, it was mentioned Wrik would even help him if anyone else came to attack it in return. Wrik and others would use facilities here such as food, water, and weaponry.

But most importantly, he would retain his will, meaning he would have a say in the matter, and could choose to concede in anything dangerous. Well, there were lines about betrayal as well, but it was not that hard for him. 

"Is this really all the clauses?" Theiron eyed Wrik. As far as he knew, there was no way to hide a clause in a maha contract. It was the law set through the ancient times.

"Of course," Wrik told a white lie. "Why would I want to make you a slave when I can get you as an ally? And besides, I do not want to shame your father too much."

The words Wrik said were not entirely a lie. He needed powerful allies to fight against Scythe and Arjamith, and Theiron was better than anything he could find here. He had wanted to bring in Aasan, too. Wrik did not know how powerful that guy was, but hearing from Michelle, he could tell Aasan had a mysterious ability that came in handy on many occasions. But Alas! He could not find the guy in the fortress on the mountain. It seemed Aasan had no intention of joining them.

Those words were enough for Theiron to bring back to almost his usual self. He signed the contract with his mana, giving it back to Wrik. Wrik shook palms with Theiron, pulling the guy upwards.

"Let' have a good partnership," Wrik said, giving him the other paper to remove the brand. 

Theiron snorted loudly and removed the brand with the help of the paper inscribed paper. All he had to do was wrap his arm and infuse mana. That was it to remove it. He gave a satisfied grunt, seeing the brand free arm. 

'I wonder if this guy would go crazy if he know the brand was not a slave brand, but something else,' Wrik thought amusingly.

On the other hand, Anton almost burst into laughter but pulled his palm against his mouth to stop it. 

"Ahem!" Wrik coughed self-consciously. "Let's go. Stop the battle now."

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