An Understated Dominance by Marina Vittori

The room fell into a sudden hush like time had frozen. Everyone's eyes widened in disbelief at the sight before them.

First, they glanced at Lucian, who was seriously injured and spewing blood. Then, their attention shifted to the drunken man swaying unsteadily.

Confusion clouded their minds. They had witnessed Lucian delivering a decisive blow directly to the drunkard's face.

Yet, why was the drunkard unharmed while Lucian suffered serious injuries?

"What the heck just happened? How did Lucian get tossed like that?"

"It... it must be the drunkard's protective armor energy! Thunderbolt Fist's punch went smack into that armor!"

"Protection armor energy? Wait, could this beggar be a grandmaster martial artist?"

After a brief moment of silence, the room exploded into chaos.

No one could have predicted that this disheveled, stinking drunkard would be a formidable adversary.

Lucian, alias Thunderbolt Fist, was a legend in the martial world. He was renowned for his bonecrushing blows, which could exert tens of thousands of pounds of force.

To endure one of his strikes without a scratch or counter with such ferocity attack required the skill of a grandmaster martial artist or higher.

"Who do you think you are? How dare you cause such mayhem here!" Garrett's expression darkened as he beheld Lucian's grievous injuries.

wine!" The drunkard chuckled. He was oblivious to Garrett's presence and continued to sip his drink as if

talking to you! Are you listening?" Garrett channeled his grandmaster-level internal energy to amplify his

Ears rang, heads spun, and the less experienced martial artists hurried to

drunkard burped. He stirred slightly at Garrett's outburst. His tired eyes reluctantly opened as he

course! Who else would I be talking to?" Garrett nearly lost his composure and

his tattered appearance and revolting stench, had completely

shouting like that? I'm not deaf." The drunkard scratched his ear lazily. "Oh, what were you saying just

the drunkard waved him off. "Forget it.

drunkard settled into the seat. He nonchalantly resumed his

eyes narrowed in anger, and his fists clenched tightly in fury. No one had dared to treat

Hall of Gods

beggar blatantly disrespected him, treating him as

regret crossing me!"

thrust his hand toward

the air. Then, a colossal white shadow palm descended upon the drunkard like

Before the shadow palm even landed, everyone felt

god! What intense pressure! Elder

mess with Elder Mason? He's

fool deserves whatever's coming