Chapter 7: The Duel for Principle II

The air in the arena was thick with tension, the kind that made every spectator hold their breath, as two figures stood face to face, poised for battle. The silence stretched on, almost unnatural, as the crowd waited in anticipation. At the center of the arena, Logan stood with a calmness that seemed almost unnatural. Across from him, King Richard, his expression a storm of anger, gripped his sword tightly, his eyes never leaving Logan.

"Why didn't you pick the weapon?" King Richard's voice broke through the silence, sharp and accusing. "Are you that strong that you do not need any weapon, or are you that arrogant...?"

Logan's gaze met his without wavering. His lips curved into a faint smile, the words slipping out with casual ease. "I don't know for sure, but maybe 'both.'"

The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before King Richard, his patience exhausted, launched himself forward in a blur of motion. His sword came down in a vicious arc, aiming to cut Logan in half. The aristocrats watching from the stands gasped in unison. The clash seemed inevitable.

But Logan remained unfazed, his posture relaxed. With a single, fluid motion, he swung his hand to the side. The strike from King Richard veered off course, deflected effortlessly as if the sword were nothing more than a gust of wind. Before the King could react, Logan's fist shot forward, connecting with the King's stomach with a force that left the crowd breathless.

The impact was devastating. King Richard crumpled to the floor, his face twisted in pain. His mouth opened as if to scream, to gasp for air, but no sound emerged. His body trembled, yet no breath left his lungs, no voice came to his lips, as if his very ability to express himself had been stolen away in that instant.

Logan stood over him, the calm expression never leaving his face. His hand lifted slowly, and from the King's body, a small, white ball-like structure materialized, floating upward before slipping into Logan's chest, vanishing without a trace. The crowd, still stunned into silence, watched in awe, their gazes flickering between Logan and the fallen King.

Logan's voice broke the stillness, cold and unyielding. "What did you get for refusing to simply give the World's Principle...?"

The words echoed through the arena like a challenge to the heavens themselves.

None of the aristocrats dared to speak. Not a single one of them moved. The sight of Logan's effortless victory over their once-proud king left them speechless, questioning their very existence. Some took hesitant steps toward the fallen King, their faces pale with confusion and fear.

"Who is he?" one of them murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why did he ask for the duel? And what is this World's Principle...?"

The King, now struggling to his feet, said nothing. He didn't meet their eyes, didn't respond to their questions. His face was a mask of silent fury and disbelief as he turned away, heading for his private chambers without a word. The aristocrats exchanged uneasy glances, the questions lingering in the air like an unsolved riddle. But the King remained silent, offering no answers to their pressing inquiries.

The arena, once filled with the excitement of battle, was now abandoned in a sea of confusion and disbelief. The aristocrats slowly dispersed, murmuring among themselves, their conversations filled with speculation. They could only guess at the implications of what had just transpired, but one thing was certain—Logan's presence was far more than they could comprehend. For now, the arena had witnessed the rise of something they could never have imagined.

Later, in the quiet stillness of his thoughts, Logan found himself standing alone before the grave of his parents. The weight of his past, of the loss and the pain, settled in his chest as he knelt before the stone markers, his fingers brushing the engraved names of Satayan and Raphael. It was a moment of reflection, one last farewell before he took his next step into the unknown.

With a quiet sigh, he rose and turned away, knowing that the path ahead was long and fraught with challenges. The stars above beckoned, a guide to the next stage of his journey. His body lifted from the ground, soaring upward as the vast expanse of space opened up before him. The familiar sight of his home planet grew smaller with each passing second, and soon it was nothing but a speck in the distance.

The next planet, the one that held the principles of 'Mana' and 'Magic,' was far ahead. Logan knew that it was there he would forge his Mana Heart and Mana Circle, the foundation of his future strength. But such power came at a cost—he would need to remain on this planet for an extended period, honing his skills and mastering the elements before he could move on.

As he sped through the cosmos, the endless stars and galaxies stretched out before him, an ocean of possibilities. Logan's mind was focused on his purpose: to become the master of the principles of the world. It was a journey he had already begun, but there was still so much to learn, so much to conquer.

And he would stop at nothing to reach his goal.

End of Chapter 7