The Sinful Young Master-Chapter 234: Dagur, the barbarian

Hamen's soldiers followed in their wake, their disciplined swordwork finishing what the beasts began.

The barbarians fought with desperate courage, but the sudden reversal of the beasts' allegiance had caught them completely unprepared.

Yet all of this registered as peripheral to Jolthar's awareness, his focus entirely on the massive opponent before him.

Their weapons clashed again and again, each impact more powerful than the last as Dagur called upon his rage and Jolthar drew deeper into his newfound power.

The ground beneath their feet began to crack and splinter from the force of their contest, and those nearby—barbarian and county soldier alike—instinctively gave them wider berth.

Steel met steel in a thunderous explosion of force as Jolthar's long blade connected with Dagur's massive axe. The impact sent ripples through the air, green energy cascading from the point of contact like liquid lightning. Neither combatant yielded ground, their weapons locked in a contest of pure strength.

Dagur's face contorted with strain, veins bulging across his forehead.

For the first time in countless battles, he found himself matched—perhaps even outmatched—in raw power. This realization only fuelled his rage, his muscles bulging as he pushed harder against Jolthar's blade.

"You're not human anymore," Dagur growled through clenched teeth, his eyes wide with a mixture of fury and dawning comprehension.

Jolthar was now tier 8 and was Dagur. Their physical power was evenly matched, but the change in aura was undeniable. Jolthar was ahead of Dagur with his multiple power sources inside him.

Jolthar's response was a cold smile.

With a sudden twist of his wrist, he disengaged their weapons and spun away, his movements fluid and precise.

Dagur stumbled forward, thrown off balance by the unexpected manoeuvre.

The barbarian recovered quickly, whirling around with surprising agility for his size. His axe whistled through the air in a devastating horizontal arc aimed at Jolthar's midsection.

Jolthar leapt backward, the blade passing so close that it sliced through the front of his tunic, leaving the fabric in tatters without touching skin.

They circled each other, two predators assessing their prey.

The sounds of the larger battle—the screams of men, the snarls of beasts, the clash of weapons—faded to background noise, irrelevant to their personal contest.

"I've killed a hundred men who thought they were special," Dagur taunted, his breathing controlled despite the exertion.

"Warriors, mages, even a prince once. All of them died the same—begging for mercy at the end."

Jolthar remained silent, his focus absolute.

Dagur's words were meaningless vibrations in the air, tactics meant to provoke an emotional response.

The Beast King's power flowing through him had burned away such vulnerabilities, leaving only cold calculation and purpose.

Dagur grinned, his teeth bared like a predator's. "You're just a pup," he rumbled, his voice like distant thunder. "But I'll give you credit for standing your ground. Most run when they see me."

Jolthar smirked, his grip tightening on Knashii. "I'm not most people."

Without warning, Dagur lunged forward, his massive frame moving with surprising speed. His axe came down in a devastating arc, aimed to split Jolthar in two.

But Jolthar was ready.

He sidestepped with the grace of a leaf caught in the wind, Knashii flashing out to deflect the axe's momentum. The clash of steel sent sparks flying, the force of the impact reverberating through Jolthar's arms.

Dagur's eyes narrowed. "Slipping away like a monkey," he growled, twisting his body to bring the axe around in a horizontal sweep.

Jolthar ducked under the blow, his movements fluid and precise. He countered with a swift upward slash, aiming for Dagur's ribs. The barbarian twisted his torso, narrowly avoiding the blade, but Knashii's edge grazed his side, drawing a thin line of blood.

Dagur roared, more in anger than pain, and brought his axe down in a series of brutal strikes. Each swing was like a falling boulder, the sheer force behind them enough to crush stone.

Jolthar danced around the attacks, his movements a blend of agility and precision. He parried when he had to, using Knashii to redirect the axe's force, but mostly he relied on his speed to stay one step ahead.

The ground around them was torn apart by the ferocity of Dagur's attacks, chunks of earth flying into the air.

Jolthar's breath came in steady bursts, his focus unwavering.

Seeing an opening, Jolthar feinted to the left, drawing Dagur's axe in that direction. At the last moment, he pivoted on his heel and darted to the right, Knashii slicing through the air in a blinding arc. The blade cut deep into Dagur's thigh, eliciting a grunt of pain from the barbarian. But Dagur was far from finished. With a roar, he swung his axe in a wide, sweeping motion, forcing Jolthar to leap back to avoid being cleaved in two.

The two combatants circled each other, their eyes locked in a deadly stare. Dagur's breathing was heavy, his massive chest rising and falling like a bellows. Jolthar, though smaller, was no less formidable. His movements were calculated, every step and strike part of a larger strategy.

Dagur suddenly charged, his axe held high. Jolthar braced himself; Knashii held in a defensive stance. But instead of swinging the axe, Dagur slammed his shoulder into Jolthar, sending the young man flying backward. Jolthar hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. He rolled to his feet just in time to see his axe descending toward him.

With a burst of speed, Jolthar leapt to the side, the axe missing him by inches. He retaliated with a spinning slash, Knashii's blade cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. The strike landed, slicing across Dagur's forearm. The barbarian snarled, but his grip on his axe didn't falter.

Jolthar pressed his advantage, launching a flurry of attacks. Knashii moved like a blur, each strike aimed at a different part of Dagur's body. The barbarian blocked and parried as best he could, but the sheer speed and precision of Jolthar's assault forced him back step by step.

But Dagur was no ordinary opponent. With a roar, he unleashed a burst of energy, a shockwave that sent Jolthar skidding backward. The ground around Dagur cracked and splintered, his Tier 8 power manifesting in a visible aura of raw strength.

Jolthar steadied himself, his eyes narrowing. He could feel the Beast King's power stirring within him, a primal force that begged to be unleashed. He took a deep breath, letting the energy flow through him. His muscles tensed, his senses heightened. Knashii seemed to grow lighter in his hand, the blade humming with anticipation.

Dagur charged again, his axe raised high. Jolthar met him head-on, their weapons clashing with a deafening crash. The force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling through the air, the ground beneath their feet cracking and splintering. Jolthar pushed back, his strength amplified by the Beast King's power.

For a moment, the two were locked in a stalemate, their weapons grinding against each other.

Jolthar was trying to make the beast king's power his own and to make it bend to his will, and surprisingly, it was more stronger and resilient than he had anticipated.

Hamen was watching from time to time; his gaze was focused on Jolthar and how he easily countered Dagur. Even he had a difficult time when he fought against Dagur.

While Yilar was making himself distant from the field. He moved from the middle of the battlefield to the forest behind them. There was caution in his movements, and a figure appeared beside him, a figure shrouded in the darkness, the same one that they met in the woods that day.

"They are gonna lose." The figure said, his voice coarse.

Yilar nodded, "Yes, and you cannot interfere, or you will be noticed by the ones who are watching from above."

The shadows around the figure flickered; he looked above and cursed out loud. He was once a Chittera lord named Alamkrusa; with the help of Yilar, he had turned to Rax'ashs, a dark deity. While he had the power to change the tides of this war, he couldn't do it because of Deity King Inadrys.

Inadrys was watching; they knew about it.

If he stepped in, Inadrys would act and fight him.

Deities and Rax'ashes were like day and light, hardcore enemies. Deities wouldn't stand the sight of Rax'ashes.

Yilar could feel the change as the air around became oppressive. Alamkrusa was gritting his teeth as he watched Dagur and his men being pushed back. Those beasts were rampaging all around the number of Chittera's men.

Yilar was sure that Inadrys must have been watching Jolthar and his unusual power surge.

Alamkrusa could no longer bear the sight of his men being slaughtered.

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The battlefield, once filled with their war cries, was now a graveyard of broken bodies and fading souls. His fists clenched, his black essence trembling with barely contained rage, but he did not move to intervene.

He couldn't.

Their initial plan was to take the stone from the pillar and the power inside the pillar, and they had terribly failed because of the interference of the unexpected individual, Jolthar.