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Chapter 2308 The Hierarchy of Geniuses
Gwain was beginning to lose his composure. No matter how hard he searched for deception in Xarri’s words, he found none.
Even so, he forced himself to remain patient, determined to hear the story to the end.
Xarri continued, his tone unwavering. “My father was a sociable man, well–liked by many, but he never had much interest in martial arts. When he was chosen as the head of the family, it wasn’t because of his strength or skill in combat. It was because of his reputation–his integrity, his sense of responsibility. Everyone believed he was the right person to lead.
“He was loyal to the family and never second–guessed their intentions. The moment he took his position, my granduncle and the others urged him to seek out Master Theron and request access to the Dragon Tome.
“Master Theron and my father had a deep friendship despite the years between them. Out of respect for that bond, and for the honor our family had upheld for generations, he agreed to lend him the tome.
“And you should know what happened after that.”
Gwain stiffened as Xarri suddenly turned the question on him. His body betrayed him with a slight shudder, but he quickly masked it with feigned ignorance. “Me? How would I know? All I’ve ever heard is that the Dragon Tome has always belonged to our family. That’s what everyone says. Are you telling me they were all lying?”
Xarri let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s the terrifying thing about our family–and the Summertons. Back then, the Summerton family controlled Zovince’s media. They even dreamed of seizing the presidency. They had the power to twist the truth, turn lies into facts, and make black seem white. But despite their influence, they never gained real support. They couldn’t even secure a spot in the elections, so in the end, they resorted to more desperate measures.”
The room fell silent. Everyone was listening, completely drawn in.
Chiara, in particular, was riveted. She might not have been as skilled as Gwain in combat, but when it came to knowledge–history, strategy, the subtle currents that shaped the world—her understanding far surpassed his.
Xarri’s expression grew solemn. “They used my father to get the Dragon Tome. Then they devised a plan to steal it outright. The moment it was gone, your father proposed determining the family head through martial combat. He took advantage of the family’s traditions, using the tournament to seize power, then falsely accused my father of hiding the tome. That way, the crime fell on him, while your father and his allies reaped all the benefits.”
Quell clenched her teeth, her delicate features twisting in fury. “Despicable,” she spat, her voice shaking with anger. “Your father and his pack of treacherous vermin–we refuse to acknowledge them as kin!”
“Just shut your mouth, will you?!”
Gwain finally snapped, his voice thundering with rage, but it was obvious to all that he was panicking.
Xarri’s words fit too perfectly with what Theron had once said. There was no denying the truth.
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That kind of betrayal could shatter a person’s world.
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But not many people knew what had really happened. Theron was long dead. And if Xarri and Quell were to die here as well, then who would be left to seek justice?
The moment that realization took hold, the fear in Gwain’s eyes faded. Cold determination took its place.
“Xarri, you truly live up to your reputation–a lowly wretch through and through.”
Resorting to insults was the only defense he had left.
Quell’s face burned with fury. Her brother had spoken nothing but the truth, and yet this man had the audacity to slander him?
How dare he?
Xarri, however, remained calm. This reaction was precisely what he had expected.
“With your father’s betrayal, our family lost its honor. He stole the Dragon Tome and framed my father for it. And now, you stand before me, twisting the truth yet again? You deserve to die.”
Gwain raised a hand, pointing at him with a sharp, accusing glare. “Today, I will cleanse the family of your filthy remnants!”
Xarri met his gaze, unflinching. “If that’s your decision, then there’s nothing more to say.”
His voice was steady, unshaken.
Beneath that calm exterior, an overwhelming force lay in wait, ready to be unleashed.
Chiara could tell that Gwain didn’t actually intimidate Xarri. But principles had to be made clear. If Gwain insisted on being unreasonable, then so be it–if a fight was inevitable, Xarri was more than ready to meet it
head–on.
“Go to hell!”
Gwain struck first, unleashing a signature technique of the Lannister family–Willow’s Grace.
It was a move passed down exclusively within the family, never taught to outsiders, yet every direct descendant knew it by heart. Chiara couldn’t deny the precision of his execution. Every motion was crisp, every transition seamless–a textbook–perfect display of their father’s teachings. Even she had to admit that she couldn’t have done it better herself.
What she never expected was for Xarri to counter with Willow’s Grace as well.
The moment he moved, her delicate frame tensed instinctively, her eyes widening in shock.
Gwain’s inner strength was undeniably greater. Yet after the first exchange, he was the one left at a disadvantage. His robe had been torn in one place–a narrow escape from a direct hit–while Xarri remained entirely unscathed.
“Incredible!”
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With a single exchange, the truth became painfully clear. Though many hailed both himself and Gwain as martial prodigies, if genius had levels, then at best, Gwain stood half a step or perhaps one full level above him. But Xarri? He was at least two, if not three or four levels beyond them entirely.
“Impossible! How could this happen?”
Gwain stared at the tear in his robe, his expression shaken.
They had used the same technique. His inner strength had been superior. So why was he the one at a disadvantage?
“Overwhelming force can crush skill, that much is true. But when two fighters stand on the same tier, mastering the efficiency of a technique becomes critical.”
Xarri didn’t press his advantage. Instead, he spoke calmly, as if guiding a younger sibling through a lesson.
Yet the more he explained, the angrier Gwain became. With a roar of frustration, he cut him off.
“Shut up! I don’t need a loser like you lecturing me!”
With a swift motion, he launched another attack–Merging Finger.
This time, Xarri didn’t bother countering with the same technique. He had already noticed the flaws in Gwain’s foundation—his inner strength, warped by a crude, mismatched version of the Dragon Tome, had become erratic and volatile.
Rather than meeting force with force, Xarri redirected his attack with Big Dipper, effortlessly turning the energy back against him.
“What?!”
Clive and the others gasped in disbelief.
Wyatt was just as stunned.
As a member of the Lannister family, he understood their martial arts well. Merging Finger was an energy- based strike–redirecting it back onto the user was no simple feat.
He wasn’t sure if Eric could do it, but he knew for certain that Gwain could not.
As expected, Gwain’s eyes flashed with alarm. He shifted his stance hastily, barely evading the attack.
Only then did Xarri unleash Merging Finger himself.
His strike wasn’t nearly as forceful as Gwain’s, but it was perfectly measured–smooth, effortless, and placed precisely in Gwain’s blind spot.
He had no time to react. The blow landed squarely on his shoulder, splitting open the skin.
“Mr. Gwain!”
Wyatt and the others cried out in alarm.
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dominate Xarri, he should have at least controlled the pace of the fight.
But this? This was nothing short of disastrous.
“Shut up! Stop distracting me!”
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Gwain was already humiliated–he needed someone to blame, and his subordinates made for an easy
target.
After barking at them, he lunged forward with Dragon’s Flight, attempting to engage Xarri in close combat.
“Not a bad strategy.”
Xarri’s lips curled slightly, utterly unfazed by the ferocity of his opponent’s aura.
“Shut up! Stop acting like you’re some master trying to guide me!” Gwain bellowed furiously, launching a relentless flurry of attacks. His energy grew wilder, more erratic, but Xarri remained utterly calm.
The more aggressive Gwain became, the more composed Xarri was.
