"You have quite the confidence… speaking that way to an emperor."
The remark came from behind, calm yet edged with faint amusement, as though testing the weight of Jurgen's earlier words.
Jurgen did not turn.
His gaze remained fixed ahead, unwavering, as his stride continued without pause. "It will be evening before we reach the village," he said flatly, his tone leaving no room for discussion. "Less talking. More walking."
A quiet scoff followed.
"You really have a talent for irritating people," the same voice returned, unbothered, if anything entertained.
Behind them, Bubbles shifted awkwardly, glancing between the two as if searching for a way to soften the growing tension. "Sooo… what kind of enemies do you think we'll be facing?"
"The kind that'll get your fat ass killed," another voice cut in, dry humor laced through it without restraint.
Bubbles let out a strained laugh, rubbing the back of his head as he tried to brush it off, though the unease lingered beneath it.
They continued forward, their pace steady, the path stretching long and unforgiving beneath their feet. Time passed without notice, the silence settling once more, broken only by the rhythm of their steps and the dry wind that swept across the barren terrain.
After what felt like hours, the earlier voice spoke again, less amused this time. "We've been walking for a while… we should take a break."
"What was your name again… Nyugen?" Jurgen asked, his tone indifferent, as though the answer held little importance.
"Right… Nyugen," he replied, dragging his own name with a casual ease, though his gaze sharpened slightly.
Bubbles coughed lightly, filling the space before it could turn uncomfortable. "So… any idea what we're actually walking into?"
Jurgen exhaled, low and steady.
"The kind of enemies that don't give second chances," he answered. "And no… we're not taking a break."
A faint groan slipped through the group.
"You don't sugarcoat anything, do you?" Nyugen muttered, half impressed, half exasperated.
The march continued, the land stretching endlessly beneath a sun that had begun its slow descent, casting longer shadows with each passing moment.
"But I don't remember anyone appointing you leader," Nyugen added after a while, his tone shifting, a note of challenge threading through it now.
"He's not wrong," the other voice joined in, deeper, firmer. "You don't get to order people around just because you feel like it."
Jurgen's gaze flicked sideways, sharp and precise, settling on Nyugen for only a brief moment before returning forward.
Nyugen met it without hesitation.
"What?" he asked plainly, his expression calm, his eyes steady.
"Do something about it," Jurgen replied.
The words came without force, without emphasis, yet carried something far heavier.
Nyugen's brows drew together slightly.
"Hmm?"
"If you think I shouldn't be leading," Jurgen continued, his voice cold and composed, "then do something about it."
The challenge settled between them.
Nyugen's expression tightened, irritation flaring as faint arcs of lightning crackled along his hand, the energy dancing restlessly across his fingers.
"Are you underestimating me?" he snapped.
Bubbles immediately stepped in, hands raised in a frantic attempt to defuse the situation. "H-hey, let's not—"
"You're loud," Jurgen cut in calmly, not even sparing him a glance. "And insecure."
The words landed clean.
"I told you, if you have a problem with me leading, then act on it. If you can't… then stop talking and keep up. We're almost there."
Nyugen's hand flared brighter for a moment, the crackling intensifying, frustration rising,
but Jurgen had already continued walking, unaffected, unbothered, as though the confrontation had already ended in his mind.
"H-he didn't mean that," Bubbles added quickly, his voice strained.
A low laugh followed from the other side.
"Hah… impressive. You've got quite the mouth on you, boy."
The tension lingered, but it did not erupt.
Slowly, Nyugen exhaled, the lightning fading from his hand as his thoughts shifted elsewhere.
This guy… he thought, recalling the fight at the arena and how Jurgen had endured blows that should have ended him.
The on who fought head on with those two in the arena…
Images of the battle flashed through his mind.
They had traded blows with unrelenting speed, strikes slicing through the air.
One punch tore past him, another, devastating, caught him squarely on the chest,yet he barely faltered.
Back in the present, Nyugen shook his head, exhaling slowly…
Even if I fought him here I'd lose. And even if I don't we'd probably exhaust each other before the mission even begins.
"I'll let it slide," he muttered confidently as though he had spared Jurgen.
Jurgen gave a slight sideways glance but said nothing.
Im not even sure I could beat him if we fought, Jurgen admitted inwardly. I don't feel that familiar Reira pressure I felt before at the arena or the ridge anymore.
Tch… i hate to admit it, but im currently loosing to this guy, that ability of his… thats the difference.
Soon after, the village came into view as the sun dipped toward the horizon, bathing everything in deep amber light. They stepped through the entrance, but the moment they entered, silence pressed down on them in an unnatural way.
Jurgen's eyes immediately sharpened as he scanned the area, his expression turning focused and alert as he took in the emptiness of the village.