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Lord of Entertainment C289 Confrontation
🕑 Added 2025-03-18 14:06:23 +0000 UTC(Luke Morningstar POV)
What…? Did this brat just stand there like nothing happened?
He didn’t flinch. Not even a step back. Just… hair fluttering, like it was nothing more than a breeze. That shouldn’t be possible.
‘The force I released just now should’ve sent even an Elite Mortal crashing through the wall...’
Does this mean—he’s surpassed that level?
No. That’s absurd. He was trash. A stain on our bloodline. There’s no way he could’ve climbed that far on his own.
Unless…
‘He must’ve used his damn money. Drowning in potions, rare herbs, strengthening elixirs... that’s the only way a fool like him could reach this level.’
Still, his magic reserves are minimal. I can sense that much. It’s his physical body… unusually fortified. Strength-enhanced. Resistant.
I composed myself, letting a sharp breath escape through my nose, then snorted.
“Your wealth has taken you far,” I said with a cold grin. “I wonder how many vaults you emptied—how many rare potions you drank—to stand so confidently against a flick of my hand.”
But he just stood there, smiling. That same infuriatingly calm expression.
And then it hit me.
“Or is it that little creature… Yoda, was it?” I said, eyes narrowing. “The one who taught you martial arts? Is that how you crawled your way up?”
Arthur’s expression didn’t change. He simply replied, “It doesn’t concern you.”
He started walking toward the exit.
No. I won’t let him leave so easily. I haven’t finished with him yet.
“You think you can walk out of here that easily?” I said, rising from my seat, my voice low and heavy.
In an instant, five cloaked figures appeared ahead of him, blocking his path.
Their robes shimmered with faint crimson and black light—thick, oppressive energy leaking from them like smoke. Their eyes glowed faintly beneath their hoods.
A smirk tugged at my lips.
«Fallen Stars.»
My personal elite force. Trained in secret. Forged in darkness.
Each one of them is at the peak of the Refined Mortal level. And if they choose to activate their forbidden enhancement techniques, they can temporarily ascend to the Lesser Exalted Mortal realm—though it comes at a cost, such as a shortened lifespan, weakening physique, or permanent damage to their senses like blurred vision or dulled reflexes.
They may not yet rival a Supreme Mortal like me… but together, they are more than enough to remind Arthur of his place.
“This is your answer?” Arthur asked with a chuckle, completely unfazed. “You couldn’t convince me with words, so now you’re sending dogs after me?”
He smiled wider.
“This is getting interesting.”
I frowned at his reaction. Calm… far too calm. Not a hint of worry in his face.
Where is this brat getting such confidence from?
“Go,” I ordered flatly. “Teach him a lesson.”
Just one should be enough to break that arrogant composure of his.
---
(3rd Person POV)
Arthur stared calmly at the five robed figures—Fallen Stars—before settling his gaze on the one who had begun approaching him.
His golden eyes gleamed slightly. ‘Five Refined Mortal elites… each on par with Lance, a Champion of Solarus. I’m essentially standing against five champions.’
A year ago, this would’ve been a true threat. He might’ve had to resort to unleashing the bloodline of the «Primal Morningstar». But that was no longer necessary.
Now, he had already stepped beyond the level of a Supreme Mortal—he had crossed into the realm of a Demi-God, thanks to his system and the steady growth of his cult.
His strength had quietly soared. While others were watching his films, he was quietly rewriting what it meant to be powerful.
Whoosh!
The first attacker closed the distance in a blink. A wolf demon, muscles tense, eyes sharp beneath his hood. His hand shaped into a knife strike, cutting through the air as he lunged at Arthur’s abdomen—not to kill, but to threaten and intimidate.
Arthur didn’t flinch.
The wolf demon's grin widened. He thinks this ends now.
But just as his palm was about to land—
Tap.
Arthur’s finger rose effortlessly to meet it.
There was no explosion of power. No dramatic wave of energy. Just a soft, almost lazy tap that completely nullified the force of the attack. The martial energy dispersed harmlessly into the air.
The wolf demon froze, confused—bewildered.
Then, Arthur gently grabbed his attacker’s wrist with one hand, as if spinning a delicate trinket.
Crack!
A sharp twist. A clean, brutal rotation.
The sound of bone snapping echoed across the silent hall.
“AAARGHHH!!” The wolf demon howled in agony, stumbling back, clutching his limp, mangled wrist.
Gasps rang out. The other four Fallen Stars tensed immediately. Even King Luke’s expression shifted faintly.
Arthur remained standing still, his posture relaxed, as if nothing had happened.
He looked at the writhing wolf demon and muttered under his breath, “If you’re going to send someone to teach me a lesson… at least send someone who can stand the first round.”
The remaining Fallen Stars and King Luke were stunned by the sudden turn of events. Their gazes shifted between the wolf demon writhing in pain and Arthur, who stood calmly like nothing had happened.
‘What… How is that possible?!’ Luke’s mind reeled. ‘He stopped that attack with a single finger… and casually crippled one of the Fallen Stars? Is he already at the peak of Exalted Mortal? No… it might be even higher!’
One of the Fallen Stars quickly knelt beside the injured wolf demon.
“Six, are you alright?”
The wolf demon gritted his teeth, holding his broken wrist, and cast a glare toward Arthur. “I… I’m fine… Just be careful. That exiled trash is stronger than we thought.”
Another stepped forward—a towering bull demon, muscles bulging beneath his robe. His eyes glinted, his horns shining faintly with energy. “Then we don’t waste time. We strike together.”
The others nodded. Magic flared around them—daggers drawn, throwing knives ready, a mage aiming a magical firearm.
“Now!” the bull demon barked.
In a blink, the four surged toward Arthur.
One lunged with a gleaming dagger aimed at Arthur’s neck.
Another raised his gun, firing a bullet enchanted with piercing magic.
The third flicked a handful of throwing knives, each enchanted with tracking runes.
And the bull demon lowered his head, charging full force with both horns pointed toward Arthur’s ribs.
But Arthur… didn’t move an inch until the last moment.
With a sudden shift, his leg swept upward—his foot slamming into the wrist of the dagger-wielder. The dagger flew into the air, flipping midair.
Arthur snatched it effortlessly—just in time to deflect the incoming bullet with its flat side.
Clink!
The bullet ricocheted, smacking directly into one of the flying knives, shifting its trajectory—right into the shoulder of the very gunman who had fired it.
“Argh!” the shooter staggered, clutching his bleeding forearm.
The knife-thrower widened his eyes and quickly used magic to pull another knife toward Arthur—but Arthur deflected it with such precision that it flew backward again—scraping the shoulder of the same attacker.
At that moment, the bull demon was already mid-charge. But Arthur turned, eyes glinting, and grabbed both horns.
Snap!
A sickening crack echoed through the hall as the mighty horns snapped off like brittle twigs in his hands.
The bull demon howled in pain and collapsed to the ground, clutching his bleeding forehead.
Everyone was silent.
Arthur stood at the center of it all, unscathed, holding one horn in each hand.
Luke’s eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat.
‘Is this… still Arthur?!’
Luke stood frozen for a moment, cold sweat trailing down his back as he stared at Arthur—calm, composed, standing amidst the fallen members of the elite Fallen Stars. Despite the shock, what surged most in Luke’s heart… was rage.
“You’ve gone too far,” he growled.
His aura erupted like a storm, crashing against the walls of the royal office. The very air trembled, and the ground beneath the palace rumbled with pressure. The castle quaked, shaking furniture and chandeliers.
Down below, confusion spread among the guests.
“W-was that an earthquake?” a boy asked aloud, glancing around in panic.
“It’s been happening more lately,” muttered a young demon imp, adjusting his glasses. “Perhaps due to the deforestation of Mana Trees… The global mana imbalance is worsening.”
The guests began to murmur among themselves, unaware that what they’d felt wasn’t nature’s wrath—it was power.
A few sharp observers realized the truth: this was no earthquake. It was a surge of pure magical aura, and it had come from the upper royal quarters.
The royal guards, already aware of the king’s energy signature, had instantly recognized it. But none dared move—they knew better than to interfere when the king’s fury was unleashed.
Inside the royal office, Luke’s eyes burned with cold intensity. With a flick of his hand, he conjured a blade of condensed magical energy—sharp, glowing, and crackling with violent force. In a blur, he slashed it forward—aimed straight at Arthur’s shoulder, intending to sever it.
But Arthur didn’t even flinch.
His eyes narrowed. In the same instant, the Force surged invisibly around him—an unseen wall of pressure clashing against the magical sword and stopping it mid-air.
Clang!
The attack was repelled, dispersing in a burst of light and wind.
Then, without hesitation, Arthur countered. A swirl of petals bloomed into existence—each one razor-thin and sharp as blades. The Roses Magic, elegant yet deadly, danced through the air, encircling Luke in a spiral before lunging toward him.
The petals wrapped around the king like chains, binding his limbs and halting his movement in mere seconds.
Arthur remained still, his expression indifferent, his hands behind his back.
“So much for keeping a low profile,” he sighed inwardly, watching his father entangled by blooming crimson petals.
Comments
Ethan Verdier
Finally some action. I was wondering how long he would keep up this nonchalant act
