The Martial Unity

"…You're giving my training chamber to a Martial Squire?" A Martial Senior stood up with a furious expression.

His aggressive fury washed out from his demeanor and expression. An immensely deep wave of pressure radiated outwards from him, washing over the man sitting in front of him.

"Did you not hear me the first time?" Master Deivon calmly asked as he sipped a cup of tea.

"HOW DARE YOU INSULT ME?!" The man roared. "ARE YOU SAYING THAT MARTIAL SQUIRE IS OF GREATER VALUE TO YOU?!"

"That is exactly what I'm saying, Senior Dreynil," Master Deivon replied. "I'm glad you have finally caught on."

The plain apathetic disrespect that Master Deivon that showed the Martial Senior bewildered him. No one had shown him this much disrespect ever since he entered the Senior Realm.

"You… Don't you dare treat me this way or else…"

"Or else what?" Master Deivon threw a calm yet steely glance his way.

It was at that moment that the Martial Senior recalled who he was talking to. He had forgotten the difference in their Realms, power, and status. Master Deivon was a man who was superior in almost every measurable regard.

"Forgive me for my impropriety, Master Deivon," He immediately bowed his head. "However, I believe that if I'm being replaced by a Martial Squire, I at the very least deserve to know why. I am entitled to that as a Martial Senior, am I not?"

Master Deivon sighed inwardly. He almost wished the man had lost his cool, he would be easier to deal with that way. Yet it appeared that that was asking for too much.

"It's a matter of immediate utility as well as future potential if you must know," Master Deivon replied. "That man is important to me and to the faith. His needs take priority over yours. It is as simple as that."

The man gritted his teeth as he bore the humiliation of being told he was less valuable than a simple Martial Squire.

This was nothing short of an insult.

"Potential… eh?" A dark thought entered his mind. ('If it's just potential then…')

Suddenly, a profoundly deep and perilous wave of pressure washed over him. A shiver ran up his spine as his hair stood on edge.

This was the fear that only those of a higher Realm could generate!

"Don't even think about it," A dangerous glint flashed in the Master's eyes.

Yet the pressure didn't cease.

It only rose.

"Urgh…!" The man grimaced as he cowered.

His body did not experience any pressure.

Yet, he felt as though a mountain had been dropped on his shoulders, pushing him down to his knees.

"If you go so much as a kilometer anywhere near him…" The Master growled. "I will not even kill you. No. I will cripple you as a Martial Artist. I will drive you to such depths of despair. You will take your own life for me. You will try to, rather."

His glare turned sharper as the Senior cowered even more. "I won't let you. Put so much as a scratch on the boy, and what had otherwise been a blessed life as a powerful Martial Artist will turn into Hell itself. Not even the Lord will be able to save you."

The Martial Senior was already on his knees due to how much the fear crippled him. He whimpered pitifully.

Suddenly, the pressure disappeared.

"Huff… Huff… Huff…" The man panted desperately as he finally gained respite.

"Have I made myself clear?" Master Deivon asked, looking down at him.

"Y-Yes Master! Forgive me!"

The man bowed deeply before scurrying away from the office.

"Hmph," Master Deivon snorted in contempt. "Azazel."

Suddenly a hooded figure appeared out of nowhere before the Master, bowing down on one knee. "Yes, Master."

"Follow him," Master Deivon instructed. "I don't trust his word for even half a second. Make sure he goes nowhere near the boy, and keep me updated on his movements and actions. Ah, and do not intervene if he tries anything. Inform me and wait, I'd like to dispatch that rat myself if he dares. It will be good stress relief."

"Understood, Master," The hooded figure disappeared as swiftly as he appeared.

"Huff…" The Master sighed as his thoughts went back to the subject of their little dispute.

A smile broke out onto his face as he recalled what had recently happened.

He had been in the middle of a Council meeting in the Central Panamic headquarters of the Virodhabhasa Foundation. He had gone well out of his way to make it back as soon as possible and suppress any news of what Rui had done.

He hadn't been able to make it in time to prevent it from spreading within the town, but he had just barely managed to ensure that it wouldn't spread any further. At the very least, he had ensured that his peers and competitors would not learn of this development.

"Hehehe…" He chuckled with a tinge of excitement. Previously, he didn't have much hope for any of the three Martial Contests that would be held during the Virodhabhasa Martial Festival. His town did not have any Martial Artists that were of the caliber necessary to make it into the top hundred, let alone win the contest. The strongest Martial Squire had been a grade-ten Martial Squire, but unfortunately, grade-ten Martial Squires were a dime a dozen at the continental stage. It was the bare minimum, and anything less would be embarrassing for a town representative.

That was when he came across Rui. A young man who sold brilliant techniques, three of which were grade ten and two of which were grade nine. This had been flagged in his notification system and immediately had drawn his interest. This was almost unheard of. Creating even a single grade-ten technique was normally a lifetime achievement. These techniques were techniques that pushed the very boundary of what it meant to be a Martial Squire, after all, Developing even a single one of them was of absurd difficulty, and usually took several years at a bare minimum.