Lein pulled out a contract scroll from within his spatial ring. A worn-out parchnt with intricate engravings unfolded in his hands, displaying a series of ancient yet authoritative sentences.
[Emperor's Contract Scroll]
A seal capable of binding powerful rulers. The slave cannot harm the owner and must obey all commands.
Status: Sealed (Aion)
Owner: Lein
Slave: Dragnar Faldor
Note: Cannot be used again, the scroll is sealed.
"Sealed?" Lein muttered softly. He examined the text with narrowed eyes but didn't dwell on it too much. What intrigued him more was the contract's effect itself. The slave couldn't harm the owner, but there was no restriction against thinking ill of them?
Lein rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought. His previous experint proved that Dragnar hadn't dodged his attacks not because of the contract's compulsion, but because he had no intention of avoiding them in the first place. That ant the contract didn't entirely strip away free will.
"Obey commands?" he mused, shifting his gaze to Dragnar—the old man who remained motionless, expressionless.
Lein let out a sigh and decided to test sothing. "I command you to answer my question." His voice was firm, filled with intent. He locked eyes with Dragnar, ensuring his command took hold.
"Is your strength equal to other Tier Four kings?"
A mont of silence followed before Dragnar finally parted his lips. His jaw clenched tightly, as if resisting, but slowly, words escaped his mouth. "Yes, my strength remains… Master." His voice was heavy, carrying the weight of forced submission.
Lein raised an eyebrow, nodding in understanding. "So, this is how it works."
He crossed his arms, observing Dragnar with growing curiosity. "Why didn't you speak earlier?" he asked again.
This ti, Dragnar remained silent, his expression unchanged.
Lein studied the old man for a mont before drawing a conclusion. If he gave a direct command, Dragnar would answer. But if not, the man could still follow his own will.
A small smile tugged at Lein's lips as he stepped closer. "Interesting."
His gaze sharpened. He wanted answers, and he would get them one way or another. Killing Dragnar would make purchasing him pointless. However, if he could make the old man speak without issuing explicit commands, it would be far more beneficial.
Lein stood tall, staring straight into Dragnar's eyes. "I will only stop if you promise to talk to ," he said casually, though there was an underlying threat in his tone.
Dragnar remained silent.
Lein clicked his tongue. "Alright then."
He raised his hand, and in an instant, a dozen swords materialized around him, hovering nacingly in the air. The blades circled Dragnar before shooting toward him at high speed.
"I command you—do not use your power."
The first sword pierced Dragnar's shoulder. His body jolted slightly, but he remained standing firm. The next blade stabbed into his thigh, followed by another one impaling his back, pinning him to the ground.
Lein observed with a neutral expression. The old man grimaced, but there was no scream of pain. No struggle. Even his face barely changed, as if pain was of no consequence to him.
Lein stepped closer, pressing down on one of the embedded swords, pushing it deeper. More blood seeped out.
"A remarkably resilient body," he murmured, his tone more fascinated than surprised. Even in this dire situation, Dragnar showed no signs of yielding.
Lein crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly before smirking. "How about we try this instead?" he mused.
With a flick of his hand, Lein began shaping a dream bubble. The air rippled around him, threads of illusionary light weaving at his fingertips.
The bubble expanded, forming a serene scene—a small house in the middle of lush green fields, the laughter of children echoing, the warmth of a harmonious family.
But Lein didn't stop there. Slowly, the scenery darkened. Screams rang out, lifeless bodies littered the ground, destruction consuming the once-peaceful land.
Dragnar, still impaled to the ground, looked up. His eyes burned with hatred. His gaze was cold and filled with disbelief. Blood dripped from his cracked lips, yet he remained silent.
The bubble drifted toward him, rging with his body.
In an instant, Dragnar vanished.
Lein sat atop the remaining bubble, waiting patiently. He had crafted a scenario that would drain his opponent emotionally and ntally. It was only a matter of ti before Dragnar broke.
Ten minutes passed.
Lein exhaled lightly. Dragnar was still holding on.
"I'll leave a clone here," he muttered. There was no point in waiting any longer. He had other matters to attend to.
With a swift motion, Lein ford a clone from his sword energy. The figure stood motionless, guarding the area while the real Lein disappeared from the empty forest.
***
Law Manifestation Zone
Lein erged near a grand portal that towered high. He stood on a vast platform teeming with disciples from the Invictus Sect. The atmosphere here was much livelier than the desolate forest before. Chatter and hurried footsteps filled the air.
Wasting no ti, Lein strode toward the main portal—the sole gateway to the Manifestation Law Zone's core chamber. A shimring blue light pulsed within the portal's circle, radiating a deep and powerful aura.
As he stepped into the portal, a surge of energy enveloped him.
In the blink of an eye, Lein felt solid ground beneath his feet once more. Now, he stood before a massive gate adorned with intricate, glowing carvings. To his right, an old man dozed off on a simple wooden table, his soft snores filling the quiet surroundings, utterly unconcerned with the world.
Lein glanced around. There were far fewer people here compared to outside. Only a handful of individuals were present, each absorbed in their own affairs.
A middle-aged man approached him. His body was packed with muscle, radiating imnse physical strength. However, his most striking feature was his nose—slightly larger than that of a normal human.
[Status Panel]
Na: Zanthor
Level: 157
Race: Mandis
Power Core: Star Beast
Rank: Grandmaster - Early Stage
Lein arched an eyebrow slightly. "A Star Beast, huh?" he mused inwardly.
Zanthor wasted no ti closing the distance. Once he stood before Lein, the man imdiately bowed with respect.
"Greetings, Elder Lein. I am Zanthor," he said with a polite smile, though a hint of nervousness flickered in his eyes.
Lein gave a slight nod, assessing the man before him. From his gestures and tone, it was clear Zanthor wished to be on good terms and offer his assistance.
"Elder Lein must be new to the Manifestation Law Zone. Would you like a guide?" Zanthor asked in a quiet voice. His gaze lingered only briefly before quickly shifting downward, as if afraid to et Lein's eyes for more than two seconds.
"Yes, this is my first ti entering this area," Lein replied while surveying his surroundings.
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