The Sinful Young Master

The knights opened their mouths to reply, but before a single word could escape, the answer revealed itself.

Emerging from the darkness, its massive frame illuminated by the flickering firelight, was a beast unlike any they had ever seen—a lion, its golden mane shimmering under the faint moonlight. But this was no ordinary lion. It stood over six feet tall at the shoulder, its muscles rippling with every step. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural intensity, a piercing gaze that radiated both intelligence and menace.

The knights stumbled and fell back, scrambling to hide behind Jolthar and the others. The lion came to a halt a few meters away, its gaze locking onto Jolthar with an intensity that seemed almost human. The knights drew their weapons, their hands trembling as they faced the beast, but Jolthar motioned for them to stay back.

The air grew heavy, the forest falling unnaturally silent as the lion and Jolthar stared at each other.

The lion didn't attack. Your journey continues at empire

It didn't move.

Its ferocious presence seemed to waver, its predatory snarl replaced by a strange stillness.

Eran, standing to Jolthar's side, wasn't willing to take any chances. He grabbed the bow from the knights, and he swiftly notched an arrow to the bow and aimed at the lion, his hands steady despite the tension.

"I'll take it down," he whispered.

Before Jolthar could respond, Eran released the arrow. It whistled through the air, heading straight for the lion. But the beast moved with a speed and grace that defied its massive size, dodging the arrow with ease. The shaft embedded itself harmlessly into the ground behind it.

The lion's roar reverberated through the forest, a deafening sound that sent chills down the spines of everyone present. Its golden eyes flared with renewed anger, and its massive body tensed, ready to strike.

Jolthar didn't hesitate.

He quickly stepped in front of the men, his broad frame a barrier between them and the beast.

"Stand down!" he barked over his shoulder, his voice firm and commanding. His hand was raised slightly, not in aggression but in a gesture meant to draw the lion's attention.

It worked.

The lion's gaze locked onto him, its ferocious energy now singularly focused.

Jolthar moved slowly, cautiously, his eyes never leaving the lion. He could feel the beast's fury, but beneath that, a mysterious feeling hid under its facade.

It wasn't the fear of the men or their weapons but a primal terror of its own mortality. Jolthar's instincts screamed at him to act, to defend himself, but there was something unusual about this moment.

He didn't understand why, but he felt a strange connection to the lion, as though he could sense its emotions, raw and untamed. The power of gods flowed through, so it was making him perceptive to all things.

It wasn't just anger; it was survival.

His steps were deliberate as he advanced, his voice calm and steady. "Easy," he said softly, almost to himself. "You don't want this fight. Neither do I."

Behind him, Eran and the knights stood frozen, their weapons raised but their confidence shaken. The atmosphere was suffocating, the tension so thick it felt like the forest itself was holding its breath. Jolthar's movements were careful and calculated, his presence almost hypnotic as he tried to diffuse the situation. He wasn't sure why, but he believed he could reach the lion, calm it down, and stop the bloodshed.

Then the lion's fierce gaze intensified, and its body began to quiver.

Jolthar's breath caught as something extraordinary happened.

The beast's golden mane started to shimmer, and then, as if ignited by some internal spark, it burst into flames. Intense red and orange flames licked around its head, casting eerie shadows across the forest floor. The mane was all covered in flames; it was like a stream of fire flowing from its head down the neck. The lion's eyes, there were like crimson orbs glowing very intensely in that light, focused on Jolthar. And he could feel a strange sensation in him that reverberated along with the lion. He couldn't really tell what it was, though.

The temperature seemed to rise instantly, and the air grew thick with heat.

Eran gasped audibly, his voice a whisper filled with dread. "A Red Flaming Lion…"

The knights recoiled, their fear palpable. The lion's mane burned with an intensity that made it appear otherworldly, a creature born of fire and fury. Its guttural growls grew louder, echoing like thunder.

Then, with a powerful roar, it lunged forward, charging toward them like an unstoppable force of nature.

Jolthar didn't flinch.

His aura surged to life, a sudden and overwhelming wave of power that erupted from him like a storm. It wasn't visible in the same way as the lion's flames, but it was felt by everyone present. The knights staggered backward, their faces pale as they instinctively raised their arms to shield themselves from the pressure.

Even Eran, steadfast and seasoned, took a step back, his expression one of awe and unease.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

The lion halted mid-charge, its massive paws skidding across the forest floor. It stood still, its body coiled with tension, but its burning eyes remained locked on Jolthar.

The flames around its mane flickered and crackled, but the beast hesitated. It could feel the raw, unyielding power radiating from Jolthar, a force that was impossible to ignore.

The standoff was electric.

Eran was shocked. He was looking at Jolthar with wide eyes. He could tell that Jolthar had reached tier 5, but what he couldn't understand was the absurd amount of aura he was releasing. Even he, a tier 6 swordsman, can't endure.

Jolthar and the lion were now only a few feet apart, their gazes locked in a battle of wills.

The forest around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the man and the beast in their own sphere of intensity. Jolthar could sense the lion's complex emotions.

He didn't move, didn't attack. He simply stood his ground; his aura now took shape, flowing like an invisible flame.