Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

Chapter 178 A Showdown Imminent: The Confrontation of Third-Tier Extraordinary Individuals

He stared at Rossellk in disbelief, gritting his teeth as he asked, "Father, do you mean—that this bastard named Siron will be taken away unharmed today?"

Rossel coldly swept his gaze across Ross's resentful face, then glanced at Siron, who remained calm on the sofa, and said in a deep voice, "Since Lund's attitude is so firm, even going so far as to come in person to demand the person, then let him take the person back."

Our Ocelli family has not reached the point where we would wage a full-scale war against a high-ranking knight just to spite someone.

Ross felt as if a huge rock was lodged in his chest, making it so suffocating that he could barely breathe.

He stared intently at Xilen, watching this commoner who had killed his brother and verbally refuted him so thoroughly, now sitting casually on his sofa, about to leave unscathed.

This intense sense of humiliation completely distorted Ross's lofty pride.

Ross slightly raised his chin, looking down at Xilen with a cold, condescending gaze, and suddenly said, "I have an idea."

Upon hearing this, Xilun slowly raised his head and looked at Ross.

Ross's lips curled into a cruel and mocking smile, as if he were looking at an ant about to be crushed: "Tomorrow's newspapers and media will report that when Siron visited the Ocheri family, his eldest son Ross, unable to control his brotherly feelings due to his grief over his tragically deceased cousin, lost his temper and accidentally injured his guest."

"

Before he could finish speaking, Ross's eyes flashed with murderous intent.

Without any warning, Ross's right leg, clad in custom-made leather shoes, suddenly rose up, like a venomous snake poised to strike. It drew an extremely strange and ruthless arc in the air, accompanied by a piercing sonic boom, and lashed out fiercely towards Xilen's temple!

This whip kick was incredibly fast and extremely ruthless.

The berserk power of a first-order extreme realm was poured into the leg shadow without reservation, and even the friction produced a faint smell of burning in the air.

Ross had no intention of holding back; he wanted to take advantage of the few seconds before Lund entered the hall to completely cripple Xiren!

Faced with this sudden and deadly sneak attack, Xilun's Far Listening talent provided a frantic warning at the critical moment.

He didn't have time to get up and dodge. He could only rely on the muscle memory he had developed in countless life-and-death battles to subconsciously raise his arms and cross them to protect one side of his head.

"Bang!"

A dull, teeth-grinding thud of flesh colliding echoed through the hall.

Xilun felt as if his arms had been hit head-on by a high-speed steam train.

Even with the abnormal defensive power of "Coiled Dragon," and even with the blood and qi of the second layer of the Giant Whale in his body frantically circulating to resist, the absolute power suppression belonging to the first-level extreme realm still ruthlessly destroyed his defensive posture.

Xilun's body jolted violently, and he slid backward along with the leather sofa beneath him, like a kite with a broken string.

Finally, with a loud "boom," it crashed heavily against the hard marble wall.

The walls remained motionless, dust fell in wisps, and the ground trembled slightly.

Xilun frowned, clenched his teeth, and forced down the metallic taste rising in his throat.

His arms were in excruciating pain, as if the bones were about to crack.

Ross slowly retracted his right leg, still maintaining that elegant yet cruel smile, looking down at Xilen who was leaning against the corner of the wall, and said slowly and deliberately, "You can go to the Metropolitan Police Department to sue me, I will have the butler reimburse your medical expenses according to the standard."

If you are too badly injured to fight anymore, you can come to my manor gate to beg.

"Out of respect for Sir Lund, I'll take pity on you and drop a few more coins into your broken bowl."

Xiren clenched his fists, his nails digging deep into his palms.

He tried to mobilize his internal energy to fight back, but sadly found that his energy was extremely sluggish under the opponent's overwhelming pressure.

This is the extreme!

Faced with an absolute difference in skill level, his strength, physique, and technique were ruthlessly suppressed in every aspect.

If he hadn't undergone the extreme tempering of the refrigeration device beforehand, that kick would have been enough to make him lose consciousness on the spot.

"What's wrong?"

Just then, a calm and undisturbed voice, yet seemingly carrying a soul-stirring majesty, rang out from outside the hall.

As the voice rang out, a young yet dignified man strode in.

The person who arrived was Lund.

He still had the same upright and honest face as usual, but now he was wearing a plain white training outfit.

Without any fancy decorations, just his casual gait made the air in the entire hall seem to instantly become thick and sticky.

His face was serious and composed, a stark contrast to the instructor who casually instructed students in the club. At this moment, he resembled a majestic king surveying his territory.

When Russell, a middle-aged man who had experienced many hardships, saw Lund, his eyes twitched slightly.

But he quickly covered it up, stood up, and said with a faint smile, "It's nothing, just a friendly spar between young people, kids playing around."

"7

Lund ignored Rossellk and walked straight toward Siren.

As Lund approached, Xiren gritted his teeth and struggled to straighten himself up by supporting himself against the wall with his hands.

His face was slightly pale from the shock to his internal organs, but his eyes remained stubborn.

Lund stopped and looked down at the deep marble footprint left on the ground by Xiren's kick, then at Xiren's slightly trembling arms.

Then, he slowly turned his head, his deep eyes calmly looking at Ross standing not far away, his voice so cold it seemed to freeze the air: "Your child, using such methods to attempt murder, is it merely play?"

Under Lund's gaze, Ross felt a chill run down his spine, and an indescribable sense of fear shot straight to his head.

But relying on the fact that this was his own territory, he forced himself to remain calm, bowed slightly, and put on a polite and remorseful look, saying, "Your Excellency Knight, please forgive my rudeness."

After learning that my beloved younger brother had been cruelly killed by your disciple, I was overwhelmed with grief and lost my composure, which is why I accidentally injured him.

This was absolutely not intentional; please forgive me.

Lund listened quietly to Ross's excuses, nodding slightly as if accepting the explanation.

next moment.

There was no chanting, no opening gesture.

Lund simply raised his right hand casually and, from a distance of several meters, made a grabbing motion towards Ross in the distance.

Ross's fake smile froze instantly.

He felt as if the air around him had instantly turned into hard cement, trapping him firmly in place.

His once-proud first-tier extreme strength was as fragile as a laughable bubble in the face of this terrifying, invisible power.

His body became incredibly stiff, and he even suffocated completely, his eyeballs bulging outwards due to extreme fear.

Then, Lund casually bent his loosely clenched hand downwards.

"boom!"

Ross was like a discarded rag doll, thrown away by an irresistible force.

His body rolled awkwardly a dozen times on the polished marble floor, finally slamming heavily against the wall on the other side with a "bang," in an extremely humiliating manner.

Ross curled up in the corner in agony, his face contorted, blood gushing from his mouth, only able to utter low, weak groans.

Russell's face froze instantly. He gripped his cane tightly, and the next moment, his face contorted with rage as he roared, "Lund, how dare you!"

Lund slowly withdrew his hand, placing it behind his back, and said in a calm tone identical to Ross's earlier, "It's my fault for accidentally injuring your son."

But this was not intentional, and I ask for your understanding, Baron.

Rosselk's face turned ashen; he felt as if he had been slapped hard across the face.

Immediately, he laughed in fury, slamming his sterling silver cane heavily on the ground: "I'm giving you face by addressing you as 'Knight,' not so you can run wild on my turf!"

As Rosselk roared, a middle-aged man in a tuxedo slowly emerged from the shadows on the side of the hall.

He looked like an ordinary butler, but the aura he exuded was incredibly powerful, like a lurking ferocious beast.

Rossellk also strode down from his seat.

Two Tier 3 Aberrant Beings!

Two terrifying auras intertwined and rose within the hall, faintly forming a massive storm of oppressive power, attempting to rival Lund.

The ordinary servants could no longer withstand this level of pressure and retreated one after another.

Despite facing these two seasoned Tier 3 experts, Lund showed no sign of backing down.

He slowly raised his head, his gaze passing through the tall French windows of the hall, looking at the desolate moon half-hidden by dark clouds in the night sky. On his upright face, an arrogant look of looking down upon the world appeared.

"Why should I need you to give me face?"

Lund's voice wasn't loud, but it clearly drowned out the sound of thunder and rain outside the window: "I've heard that the Ocelli family has a deep foundation, with three extraordinary individuals at the Aberration level currently in charge."

He slowly lowered his head, his gaze sweeping over Rossellk and the butler like lightning, a haughty sneer curling at the corner of his mouth: "Don't waste time, you can both come at me at once."

Upon hearing this, Rosellk laughed in fury, staring intently at Lund: "As expected of a newly promoted high-ranking knight, you're incredibly arrogant!"

The butler behind them spoke in a low voice, as if from the deepest hell: "It's good that young people are hot-blooded, but you're venting your anger in the wrong place."

Running wild at the Ochelli estate comes at a price.

Lund's face remained calm, his plain white training clothes fluttering in the air currents. Facing the cool moonlight streaming in from the window, he slowly raised his right hand, uttering a low and solemn chant: "Red Heart."

In an instant, the temperature in the hall suddenly rose.

An extremely pure and violent crimson energy erupted from Lund's palm.

This force was compressed and condensed wildly in the air, and in the blink of an eye, a long spear, entirely crimson and radiating a terrifyingly high temperature and an aura of destruction, was firmly grasped in his hand.

The gun tip was pointed directly at Rosselk, and the light flowing across the gun seemed to ignite the luxurious hall.

Rosselk stared at the crimson spear, his pupils contracting sharply, his anger gradually replaced by a deep sense of apprehension.

He nodded slightly, his voice becoming extremely solemn: "At your current level, you are indeed not entitled to wear the exclusive metal items bestowed upon nobles by the Empire."

However, your crimson spear, which is purely forged from qi, is more powerful than many expensive and extraordinary relics.

""

Russell held his sterling silver cane horizontally across his chest, and the mutated power within him began to surge wildly: "I just wonder how much this gun weighs!"

War is imminent.

The air in the hall seemed to have been sucked out, and the heavy pressure made it difficult for Xiren to breathe.

Lund held the crimson spear "Red Heart" in his hand, his plain white training clothes fluttering in the violent air currents.

Facing two third-tier aberrant individuals, Rossellk and the butler, alone, he showed no fear whatsoever. Instead, he exuded a sharp, menacing aura that seemed intent on tearing this luxurious manor apart.

Rosselk gripped his sterling silver cane tightly, the veins on the back of his hand bulging.

He knew that once a war broke out here, regardless of the outcome, the century-old manor hall would be in a sorry state, and the Ocelli family's trump card would be completely exposed to the world.

At this tense moment, when the atmosphere was at its most tense and the two sides could break into a life-or-death battle at any moment.

Suddenly, both Rosselk and the butler were startled.

The two men's tense muscles stiffened slightly, their ears twitched slightly in unison, and their eyes unconsciously glanced towards the inner tower shrouded in darkness deep within the manor.

Although Xilun's ability to hear distant sounds was insufficient to reach such a vast distance, he keenly detected the momentary disruption in the flow of blood and qi in Rosselk and the butler.

That's an instinctive reaction that only occurs when you hear something extremely terrifying, enough to shake your mind.

The anger in Rosselk's eyes was extinguished instantly, as if a bucket of ice water had been poured over his head.

His originally overwhelming and incomparably powerful aura of distortion receded rapidly like a tide.

He took a deep look at the crimson spear in Lund's hand, which exuded an aura of destruction, and then nodded slightly.

"You can leave now."

Rosselk frowned, his voice revealing an undisguised weariness and irritability. He didn't even glance at his eldest son, Ross, who was lying in the corner groaning in pain.

Lund glanced thoughtfully toward the depths of the manor, a knowing glint in his deep eyes.

Instead of pushing his luck and continuing his provocations, he slightly flicked his wrist, and the terrifying crimson spear instantly transformed into specks of red light, dissipating into the air.

Lund turned around, glanced at Xilen who was leaning against the wall, her face somewhat pale, and said calmly, "Come with me."

Siren nodded silently, enduring the excruciating pain in his arms, straightened his back, and followed Lund out of the luxurious yet oppressive baron's manor without looking back.

Only after the two figures completely disappeared into the night rain did the suffocating oppressive feeling in the hall gradually dissipate.

Rosselk glanced at the elderly butler standing beside him, and the two exchanged an extremely solemn look.

Rossel turned his head and looked at Ross, who had just struggled to his feet with the help of his servants, and coldly ordered, "Ross, go back and rest."

Without my permission, you are not allowed to step out of the manor for the time being.

Ross clutched his broken ribs, his eyes filled with humiliation and resentment. But seeing his father's dark and gloomy face, he could only grit his teeth and leave in a sorry state, supported by his servants.