The Invincible Young Master

"Why do we have to do this?" Spark grumbled, frustration lacing his voice. "It's Duke Red's state; he should maintain peace himself."

Spark's complaints echoed through the dimly lit passage as the trio ventured deeper into the labyrinth beneath the city.

If possible, Spark would have avoided entangling himself in another state's affairs altogether. Yet here they were, navigating the dark, winding corridors of a hidden underground network.

As they reached an intersection with three diverging paths, Spark hesitated.

"We might get lost," he suggested, glancing warily at the different tunnels. "Let's turn back."

Yuna, undeterred, extended her hand. A soft, ethereal glow emanated from her fingertip, illuminating the path directly ahead.

"It's this way," she said confidently, pointing straight ahead.

Spark sighed and followed behind.

The glowstones lining the walls cast a gentle light, guiding their steps as they continued down the chosen passage. Their journey was tense, every sound amplified by the silence around them.

Just as they were nearing another intersection, a shadowy figure emerged from a side passage, spotting the trio.

"Who are you?" the man demanded, suspicion etched on his face.

Before Spark or Zhao Shi could react, Yuna's eyes flashed with a cold, determined light. She uttered a single word, her voice imbued with a commanding resonance.

"[Sleep]"

The effect was instantaneous. The man's eyes glazed over, and he swayed unsteadily before collapsing to the ground in a deep slumber.

Zhao Shi watched in awe as Yuna's spell took effect. The power of an Ascendant, someone who had transcended the ordinary limits of human ability, was indeed terrifying. He marveled at how easily she had subdued the stranger with a mere word.

"Why do we have to confront them directly?" grumbled Spark. "Can't you just use your spell to make them all fall asleep and let the soldiers deal with them?"

Yuna shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, young master. We have to teach them a lesson before that."

Her voice held a steely edge, revealing her deep-seated determination. The thought of the gang exploiting and oppressing the helpless beggars had ignited a fierce resolve within her. She was vehement on confronting the bandits directly, to give them a taste of their own medicine and ensure they understood the consequences of their cruelty.

…

In the heart of an expansive underground lair, a large hall buzzed with a tense atmosphere. The circular table at its center was surrounded by menacing figures, each exuding an aura of power and danger.

These individuals were the leaders of various branches of a notorious bandit network, their operations hidden from the law for years. Despite being on wanted lists for as long as anyone could remember, they had managed to evade capture and continued their illicit dealings from the shadows.

At the head of the table sat a burly man whose sheer presence dwarfed the others. He was the main leader, the one with the most authority and influence among them. His eyes scanned the room as his subordinates discussed various matters, their voices a murmur of conspiracies and schemes.

Among the seated leaders was the infamous Buckteeth, recognized by his prominent, protruding front teeth. His reputation for ruthlessness and cunning had earned him a place at this table, though his demeanor suggested a mix of confidence and arrogance.

The sudden entrance of a panicked member of their circle abruptly interrupted the discussion. The door to the hall slammed open, and he rushed in, his face flushed and breathless.

"Why did you barge in? Explain yourself!" one of the leaders demanded, his voice sharp and commanding.

"There are outsiders in our nest," the man gasped, his words tumbling out in a rush.

A ripple of concern passed through the room. The main leader's eyes narrowed, and he leaned forward, his massive hands resting on the table.

"Did they find us? How many are there?" he asked, his voice a deep, rumbling growl.

"There are three of them," the man replied, still trying to catch his breath.

The tension in the room momentarily lifted as one of the leaders scoffed. "So why are you so nervous? It's just three people. They might have found this place by accident. Deal with them."

Another leader nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Eliminate them before they can report back."

"We can't," the man stammered, his voice shaking. "They're strong. Too strong for us."

The main leader's eyes narrowed with irritation. "One of you, go settle them."

The other leaders remained motionless, their faces reflecting a mix of disinterest and silent confidence. Each one was a seasoned warrior, well-versed in combat and cunning, with an array of lethal tricks at their disposal. But the threat of only three intruders didn't stir them from their seats.

Each of them exuded collective disdain for the seemingly minor threat. As the silence stretched on, the buck-toothed leader finally stood up, his demeanor radiating confidence.

"I'll take care of them," he declared. Though not an ascendant, his years of experience had forged his skills and bolstered his self-assurance.

He strode out of the hall, chest puffed out, ready to confront the intruders.

But it wasn't long before he returned, stumbling back into the room. His once boastful demeanor was shattered. His face was swollen, and where his two front teeth once protruded, there was now only a bloody gap. The gang leader who had once been known as Buckteeth could no longer claim that name.

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