Chapter 54: The Heir’s Unbound Might

Chapter 54: The Heir’s Unbound Might

The hall had fallen into an unnatural stillness.

Caseous Morningstar’s challenge had struck the crowd like a lightning bolt.

For a moment, no one even drew breath. Then whispers rose in a storm of disbelief, spreading through the gathered guests like fire racing across dry grass.

"Did I hear that right?" an elder of the Frost family murmured, voice quavering. "He challenged the Hunt heir? Here? Now?"

"How dare he," a matron in a silver gown hissed, clutching her chest. "Does he think this is a common arena? This is the Hunt family’s ancestral hall!"

Some younger guests looked pale, unable to reconcile the arrogance in Caseous’ eyes with the weight of the occasion.

"This is madness," a young officer whispered to her companion. "Even if he had ten lives, it wouldn’t be enough. To provoke the heir...on the day of his inauguration..."

In the midst of the rising commotion, Ethan stood utterly unmoved.

His white attire shimmered under the vaulted chandeliers, the faint glow of light-element force still wreathing him in an otherworldly brilliance. His gaze swept calmly over Caseous as if he were merely an insect that had dared crawl across the banquet table.

But inside, Ethan felt a rush of quiet delight.

At last.



He had been waiting for this. Waiting for the moment someone would challenge him publicly, so he could show them—and all the watching world—what the name Ethan Hunt truly meant.

He kept his expression serene. His tone was mild, almost courteous.

"Forgive me," Ethan said, as if addressing a stranger on the street. "And who might you be?"

Caseous drew himself up, shoulders squaring with wounded pride.

"I am Caseous Morningstar," he declared, voice echoing across the hall. "Direct heir of the Morningstar family. Perhaps you’ve heard the name."

The guests erupted again in murmurs.

"Morningstar? The rival of the Hunt family? Even they have come to this banquet? Looks like they’re trying to humiliate the Hunts."

"Yeah, I’ve heard of this heir of the Morningstars. He’s a Level 9 Martial Master. Became a master at twenty years old, and now he’s Level 9. A true prodigy. But he is shameless. The Hunt heir is clearly a lot younger than him. I heard he only awakened ten days ago. So he’s just eighteen, and this Caseous Morningstar wants to battle him now? How shameless."

Caseous’ jaw tightened at the skeptical whispers. His eyes glinted with fury.

"I came here tonight to pay respects," he said, the words clipped and brittle. "But I cannot stand by while people deify a boy simply because of his birth. Let’s see if your strength matches the legends your family has advertised so desperately."

Ethan tilted his head slightly, studying him the way one might examine a moth fluttering too close to a lamp.

"I see," he said softly. "If that is what you wish."

Caseous sneered, desperate to regain control of the moment.

"Don’t look so worried," he said, his voice ringing out. "I’ll show mercy. I won’t use my full strength. I will restrict myself to the level of a First level Master—just as you are."

The hall buzzed in astonished murmurs again.

"What did he say? Did he just call Ethan Hunt a Martial Master?"

Some people could not contain themselves.

"How could that be? He just awakened ten days ago. That much was confirmed by the Hunts themselves. He’s reached the level of Master in ten days? Then the Hunt family wasn’t exaggerating at all. They even made the heir sound humble. They did injustice to him."

People were filled with astonishment and awe. Some even wanted to kowtow on the spot.

Ethan’s lips curved in a faint, almost pitying smile.

"You need not trouble yourself with such calculations," he said, his voice suddenly cold and resonant, echoing across every corner of the hall.

The air itself seemed to tighten around them.

"This world," Ethan continued, each word falling like a hammer, "has nothing to do with you any longer the moment you challenge me—Ethan Hunt. Forget about everything, the people around us, the elders from my family looking at us, even forget about me. Just think about yourself how you may bring out your fullest potential at this moment."

The force of that declaration washed over the assembly. Even the most seasoned warriors felt their hearts thud with a primal thrill of awe.

Ethan stepped forward. The light around him intensified until his silhouette became hard to look at directly.

"I am standing here," he said, each word etched with calm, unshakable authority. "Use your full power. Use any weapon. Any means. Everything you possess. If you can force me to step back a single pace, you win."

He lifted one hand, folding the other behind his back.

"I will use only one hand."

The hall was a field of silent astonishment.

"This...this is..."

"He is completely ignoring Caseous Morningstar’s presence. Even if he’s a monster who became a Master in ten days...Caseous is a veteran Level 9 Master who earned his rank after clearing all the floors of the Battle Tower’s warrior trials. The Hunt heir is a little too arrogant, don’t you think?"

"Shhhh! Do you want to die by saying that? Just wait and watch. Don’t talk nonsense and die without even knowing how."

Someone quickly silenced those who were whispering too loudly.

At the front, Alexander and Leon looked at each other. There was surprise and astonishment in their eyes.

Even they hadn’t imagined Ethan could speak such words in front of a Level 9 Master challenger who was not an ordinary cultivator.

"The arrogance of this boy is truly unbound," Leon thought, his gaze sharpening. "Let’s see if he can back it up...or else I’ll have to step in if anything goes wrong."

Caseous felt something crack in his composure. His vision reddened. His fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms, drawing beads of blood.

"You...you are courting death!" he roared.

Power surged around him.

Though Ethan told him to use all his might,but he had his own dignity. He used the strength of a level 1 master.

He lunged, closing the distance in a blur. His palm cut through the air with a screech like tearing steel as he struck at Ethan’s chest.

Ethan watched him approach with eyes as tranquil as the deep sea.

Then, with a flicker of movement almost too fast to follow, he raised his single hand.

Crack!

A single open-palm deflection.

Caseous’ blow was brushed aside like a leaf caught in a gale. He stumbled, shock ripping through him.

Ethan didn’t retreat even half a step.

The crowd gasped.

"He...he deflected it effortlessly!"



Caseous snarled and struck again, this time unleashing a flurry of rapid strikes aimed at Ethan’s ribs and throat. His limbs blurred as he channeled his most practiced combat forms.

Ethan’s hand moved like flowing water, smooth and inevitable.

Each time Caseous attacked, his strikes were neutralized—turned aside with minimal motion.

Not a single blow connected. Not a single hair was displaced.

Caseous’ breathing grew ragged. Rage twisted his features.

"Fine," he spat, voice hoarse. "Then I won’t hold back!"

He released his all power at this moment. A terrifying pressure surged from his body which a normal level 9 master couldn’t even compare.

Then he drew his saber in one fluid motion. The polished blade ignited with crackling energy, its edge vibrating with enough force to split reinforced alloy.

The hall erupted in exclamations.

"He’s using his weapon!"

"Even so...can he land a blow?"

Caseous slashed downward in a savage arc. The saber’s edge descended like a falling star.

Ethan’s eyes glimmered faintly.

His free hand rose—fingers relaxed, palm open.

Clang!

He caught the saber between two fingers.

The impact sent a shockwave across the floor, cracking the marble beneath them. But Ethan remained rooted, utterly unmoved.

A hush fell so profound it seemed the very air held its breath.

"This...this can’t be real..."

Ethan’s gaze locked with Caseous’, impassive and cold.

"You should have listened," he said softly.

Caseous’ heart stuttered. His mind reeled. But he was past the point of caution.

His aura flared to its peak, red light swelling until it stained the hall in a bloody glow.

"You think I have nothing left?" he screamed.

With a roar, he activated his soul talent—Battle Body.

His muscles expanded, armor of living energy encasing him. His power multiplied fivefold in an instant. The floor quaked under the pressure of his aura.

Ethan exhaled slowly, the breath like the sigh of an ancient mountain.

He shifted his stance, letting his lifted hand drift back behind him. His other hand rose—the single hand he had promised to use.

Every watching eye widened.

"He...he’s still using only one hand!"

"What kind of monster...?"

Caseous charged, the saber blurring into an arc of scarlet death. His every movement infused with desperate, overwhelming force.

Ethan’s expression remained unchanged.

Then he moved.

His hand blurred, weaving a pattern of perfectly controlled motion.

The Heavenly Asura Technique—a style born of countless martial traditions, perfected in solitude, tempered by Ethan’s inexhaustible comprehension.

Where Caseous struck, Ethan was already there, parrying.

Where Caseous feinted, Ethan countered with effortless precision.

Every slash, every thrust, every desperate lunge was met with calm deflection.

The gap between them grew so obvious, so undeniable, that the crowd could no longer pretend this was a contest at all.

"This is beyond any free-hand technique I’ve ever seen..." a grandmaster whispered, voice quaking. "What kind of battle art is this?"

Ethan’s movements were flowing, unhurried, the dance of a sovereign who knew no equal. His single hand was enough to turn Caseous’ relentless assault into a display of impotence.

Clang—clash—crack!

With one final parry, Ethan struck the flat of the saber, sending it spinning across the floor to land in the stunned silence.

Caseous staggered back, panting, the energy armor flickering around his battered form. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, and utterly disbelieving.

Ethan regarded him, the glow around his body slowly receding. His voice was soft but carried to every corner of the hall.

"This is the weight of the name you mocked," he said. "This is the burden of calling yourself my rival."

Caseous fell to his knees, trembling.

The hall erupted in a roar of voices—some shocked, some exultant, all awed.

"He used only one hand..."



"Even the Battle Body couldn’t help him..."

"What monstrous strength and control...!"

Rose stood at the edge of the hall, one hand pressed to her chest. Her heart felt as though it might burst.

This is Ethan...the man I...

She could not finish the thought.

Leila wiped tears from her eyes, laughing and crying all at once.

"Big brother...you really are a divine prince..."

Ethan turned his gaze across the hall—at the nobles, the generals, the hidden powers of this still-young world.

He lifted his chin slightly, voice ringing with unbound majesty.

"Let this be the first and final lesson," he said.

He gestured to the kneeling Caseous.

"Those who would measure themselves against the Hunt family—against me—must be prepared to lose everything."