Chapter 6: The Duel For Principle I

Logan's lips curled into a faint smirk, the expression barely visible under his calm exterior. His eyes glimmered with a quiet yet dangerous confidence. "Prove it, you say?" he murmured, almost as if amused by the words of the guards. "Very well. But don't say I didn't give you a chance to step aside."

The tension in the air thickened as Logan's energy surged outward. His aura flared with terrifying intensity, rippling through the air like an invisible storm. The guards, who had stood firm just moments before, were now sent crashing to the ground, unable to even lift their heads. Their bodies seemed frozen, pressed against the cold, stone floor, as if some invisible force held them in place. The oppressive pressure emanating from Logan was suffocating. It was a reminder of just how far his strength had grown.

Outside, the sounds of chaos could be heard, muffled by the thick castle walls. Inside the royal hall, the grand assembly had gathered. King Richard Burton sat at the head of a long, polished oak table, surrounded by the kingdom's highest aristocrats. They were discussing the upcoming birthday celebration of the king—an event of great importance to the kingdom. The air was filled with light chatter and laughter, the kind of conversation one would expect from those accustomed to wealth and power.

But suddenly, the door to the hall slammed open with a force that caused the light-hearted atmosphere to freeze. A soldier, panting heavily, staggered into the room. His armor clattered against the stone floor as he struggled to catch his breath. "Your Maj... Maj... Majesty!" he gasped, struggling to speak. "There's a man causing trouble at the castle gate. He's using some sort of sorcery on our soldiers... they... they can't move!"

The aristocrats erupted in laughter, finding the soldier's words absurd. Sorcery? In their kingdom? Ridiculous. The nobles exchanged amused glances, their laughter echoing off the walls. However, King Richard's expression shifted immediately. His face darkened, his calm exterior faltering as fury bubbled beneath the surface.

"How dare you disturb my meeting with such nonsense?!" he thundered, his voice booming across the hall. The soldiers surrounding him tensed, ready to carry out their king's will. But just as Richard opened his mouth to scold the soldier, something happened. A heavy, invisible pressure filled the room, chilling the air and sending a shiver down the spines of every person present.

The aristocrats fell silent. A cold sweat began to form on the backs of their necks. It wasn't just the air—they could feel the weight of power pressing against them. It was the kind of pressure only a truly dangerous individual could wield. The noblemen, still bewildered, exchanged nervous glances, trying to understand what was happening.

The king's spine stiffened, his face going pale as the oppressive force became too much to ignore. He knew this feeling. It was no ordinary sorcerer; it was a power that could only belong to someone far beyond them.

Slowly, Richard's gaze shifted toward the entrance. A figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light of the castle hall. The man was tall, dressed in a pristine white trench coat. His face was obscured by a black scarf and dark sunglasses, and a cap attached to the coat shielded his head. The strange figure walked forward with calm, measured steps, his presence alone enough to dominate the entire room.

Every person in the hall could feel the pressure coming from him, each step further tightening the noose around their chests. The soldier, still frozen in place, could only watch in awe and terror as the man in white strode confidently into the center of the room.

Logan stood in the middle of the hall, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes locked onto King Richard with a burning intensity. His voice rang clear and calm, cutting through the tense silence. "Either you give me the World's Principle," Logan said, his words dripping with authority, "or have a duel with me. And I think you know that you can't refuse the duel for the World's Principle, because it only belongs to the stronger."

The words echoed in the hall, leaving the aristocrats in complete confusion. The concept of the World's Principle was foreign to them, and the implications of Logan's challenge seemed too far beyond their understanding. But to King Richard, the meaning was clear. The man before him wasn't just a threat; he was a force that could change the very course of their kingdom.

Richard's expression darkened. He had faced many challenges in his life, but something about Logan's presence filled him with an uneasy sense of foreboding. After a moment of tense silence, the king finally spoke, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of anger. "I accept your duel," Richard said, the weight of his words heavy in the room. "When will we have the duel?"

Logan's eyes narrowed, and without hesitation, he responded. "Right now."

The atmosphere shifted again, this time with a sense of finality. The aristocrats, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, could only watch as the king and Logan made their way to the castle's arena. The grand hall, once filled with laughter and light chatter, now felt empty and cold.

Outside, the arena was surrounded by tall, ancient stone walls, the arena itself a large circular pit, its edges worn and scarred from countless battles fought over the centuries. The air was thick with the scent of earth and anticipation. The ground beneath their feet seemed to vibrate with the weight of the moment.

King Richard, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, stood across from Logan. The air crackled with tension as they both sized each other up. The king had expected a grand display of weapons, a clash of steel and sorcery. But when Logan took a moment to survey the weapons laid out before him—swords, spears, bows, and more—he surprised everyone by shaking his head.

He walked forward with nothing in his hands, his posture relaxed yet brimming with quiet confidence. His decision to go unarmed was a statement in itself—a challenge to the king and his entire kingdom. King Richard, for the first time, was caught off guard. He stood there, momentarily stunned by Logan's boldness.

The arena was silent, the only sound the distant rustling of the wind as the two figures prepared for the inevitable clash. The world seemed to hold its breath as they faced each other, ready to see which of them would emerge victorious. The fight for the World's Principle had just begun.

End of Chapter 6