“Furthermore, before you pass judgment, I suggest you witness our capabilities first.”
The tapping sound stopped.
Morton’s gaze lingered on Dalles for a few seconds.
He turned to the communications officer beside him and issued a brief order.
“Send Carl in.”
Carl.
Morton’s strongest warrior.
The undisputed top fighter of the entire Northern First Military District.
The guards, who had been standing like statues, seemed to straighten their postures even more.
A subtle, indescribable gleam appeared in their eyes.
It looked like the anticipation of a good show about to unfold.
Soon, the alloy doors of the command room were pushed open from the outside.
A tall man from Planet Caren walked in.
His skin was a pale gray, and his shoulders were as broad as a wall.
A hideous old scar ran across his face, stretching from his left eyebrow down to his right cheek.
He wore a dark combat suit that differed from the standard soldiers, bearing no military rank insignia.
Yet, the moment he walked in, the eyes of the four elite guards behind Morton instinctively followed him.
Morton shifted his gaze from Carl back to Dalles.
“Allow me to introduce him,” Morton said, his tone carrying undisguised pride.
“This is Carl, the strongest warrior under my command.
His power level is 5,500.”
He paused.
“On the entirety of Planet Caren, aside from the United Government’s two so-called ‘Super Soldiers,’ no one is his match.”
Morton leaned forward, scrutinizing Dalles and his two companions.
“Proving your strength is simple.”
“Defeat my subordinate.”
As his words fell, a dead silence filled the command room.
Then, a soft chuckle broke the quiet.
It was Dalles.
A low, contemptuous laugh.
Immediately after, Daiz also burst into laughter, his amusement far more direct.
Morton and his men could easily hear the mockery in their voices.
They all frowned.
Had they said something funny?
To Dalles, it was indeed hilarious.
While a power level of 5,500 might not be considered weak in the grand scheme of the universe, among the three of them present, even Daiz—the weakest—had a power level of 9,000.
This so-called test was nothing short of a farce.
Dalles turned his head and glanced at Daiz.
“I’ll leave this to you.”
“Go easy on him.
Don’t kill our ally’s man.”
Daiz grinned, nodded, and took a step forward.
This movement caused the four guards behind Morton to instinctively tighten their grips on their rifles.
Carl crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at Daiz from his towering height.
In his eyes, this guy with short light-blue hair had a flimsy build.
He couldn’t even be considered muscular, completely detached from the word warrior.
“Follow me.”
Morton stood up and led the group toward the side door of the command room.
Through an alloy door was a reinforced, independent training ground.
The space wasn’t large.
All four walls were lined with military-grade energy-absorbing materials, gleaming with a dull metallic luster.
Carl walked to the center of the room and rolled his neck and wrists, his joints letting out a series of crisp pops.
He looked at Daiz opposite him, his tone carrying a patronizing contempt.
“Outsider, I will hold back.
I won’t kill you.”
Hearing this, Daiz merely tilted his head slightly, the smirk on his lips unchanging.
The next second, Carl moved.
His figure vanished from his spot, the wind from his punch causing the four walls of the training ground to hum with a low resonance.
On Planet Caren, this punch was enough to shatter defensive fortifications made of any known material.
Morton stood on the sidelines with a confident expression, fully prepared to see this overconfident outsider sent flying by a single blow.
However, Daiz simply leaned casually to the left.
Carl’s fist, packing enough force to crush solid rock, brushed right past his ear without touching a single strand of hair.
The expression on Morton’s face froze.
Carl’s pupils shrank sharply; he hadn’t even seen how his opponent dodged.
Then came the second punch, and the third.
A storm of combo attacks rained down, each strike powerful enough to make the air explode.
But every single attack missed its mark.
Morton’s eyes widened further and further, shifting from initial confidence to confusion, and finally to utter disbelief.
How was this possible?
Carl finally realized something was wrong.
He abruptly retreated two steps to create some distance and let out a furious roar.
A scorching aura erupted from the surface of his body, instantly pushing his power level to its absolute limit.
The air pressure inside the training ground began to rise.
He gathered all his strength into his right fist, the surface of his knuckles glowing with energy.
Then, he launched a fully charged, heavy punch straight at Daiz’s face.
This time, Daiz finally raised his hand.
He extended his palm to meet Carl’s fist.
That boulder-crushing force slammed into a single palm, and then came to an abrupt halt.
Carl’s fist was buried in Daiz’s palm, completely immobilized.
The bulging veins on his arm were still throbbing, and his entire body’s strength was still surging forward, but that palm acted like a black hole, swallowing everything.
Only the alloy floor beneath Carl’s feet, unable to withstand the rebounding force, let out an overwhelmed creak as spiderweb-like cracks spread out from where he stood.
‘What is going on?’
Carl’s mind went completely blank.
The confident expression Morton wore just moments ago had morphed into pure disbelief.
Daiz tilted his head, looking at Carl’s face, which had turned beet red from overexertion.
He smiled.
“The third strongest on Planet Caren, huh?”
“Looks like I could go compete for first or second place!”
Daiz gently pushed his palm forward.
Carl’s body was sent flying backward as if he had been rammed by a rampaging behemoth.
Boom!
A massive crash echoed.
His back slammed solidly into the energy-absorbing wall on the far end of the training ground.
That specialized wall, which supposedly could absorb the shockwaves of a battleship’s main cannon, caved in around the point of impact, forming a massive human-shaped crater.
Carl was embedded in the wall like a framed picture before sliding down limply to the floor.
The training ground fell dead silent.
Morton stared at his strongest warrior—the man hailed as an undefeated myth in the Northern Military District—who had just been crushed in a single move.
At this moment, he completely put away his previous contempt.
Dalles leaned against the doorframe at the entrance of the training ground.
“General.”
“Daiz is the weakest among us.”
The weakest?
Morton instinctively turned his head.
He looked at Dalles, and then at the mechanical lifeform standing beside him, who had remained as silent as a metal statue from beginning to end.
He took a deep breath, straightened his military uniform, and then stepped forward, walking into the training ground himself.
He didn’t spare a glance at Carl, who was still slumped on the ground, but walked straight up to Dalles.
His face had already been replaced with an almost humble smile.
“Mr.
Dalles.”
He used a respectful honorific.
“I apologize for my earlier offense.
Please, do not take it to heart.”
Dalles cast a mild glance at him.
Morton then turned toward the direction of the command room and made an inviting gesture.
“Let us return to the command room to talk.
We can discuss the details.”