This gentleman had come to Falcon City with a mission: to find a girl. An exceptional talent—one who might very well reach level 99, or even surpass it. Such a prodigy *belonged* in his academy. It would be a crime against fate if she didn’t enroll.

Besides, she’d be invaluable in future academy tournaments. Rumor had it rival empires had already recruited several promising talents. If his own empire didn’t act fast, they’d become a laughingstock.

Setting that aside—the moment this gentleman appeared, arrogance radiated off him like wind. Dressed in understated casual wear, a magic wand in hand, long hair fluttering, he stood effortlessly atop a tree branch. His voice drifted down, cool and detached: "You summoned this one for what purpose?"

Qin Jun was utterly outclassed. He’d never pulled off such a swaggering line himself. *Guess I still don’t get how to play this game.* He’d declared himself a Demon King upon arriving in this world, yet he’d never even gotten to *say* the title aloud. What kind of Demon King handled trivial chores all day?

The Abyssal Troll clearly couldn’t beat this show-off. But what if *he* transformed? If he struck a fearsome Demon King pose and aided the troll… wouldn’t that be exhilarating? One legendary move, and his Demon King title would echo across the land.

The Abyssal Troll snorted upon seeing its opponent. "You’re strong. Worthy of being my adversary."

Without warning, a ball of dark energy materialized in its hand and slammed toward the gentleman.

"You have no manners whatsoever!" the gentleman snapped, dodging with ease.

"An eye for an eye," he declared, chin lifted. "Since you lack courtesy, don’t blame me. I am the most charming fire mage at our academy."

A massive fireball erupted from his wand. The troll didn’t flinch—letting it strike its chest. The flames dissipated without a trace.

The troll’s grotesque mouth twisted into a grin. "Is *that* all you’ve got? Show me your true power. Taste another of my techniques."

"*Shadow Arrows!*"

Dark arrows materialized behind it—dozens of them—launching like a storm toward the gentleman.

He moved to dodge, then spotted the city lord and his group frozen behind him. *Idiots! Run!* he cursed inwardly. *This attack won’t be easy to block. No choice—full power it is.*

"*Flame Dragon!*" he roared.

A spiraling fire dragon surged forward, swallowing the shadow arrows. But the dark energy resisted absorption. The dragon swelled violently, exploding meters before reaching the troll.

Smoke billowed, blinding everything. Yet the gentleman sensed an enemy charging through the haze—blindingly fast.

*Damn it! No melee! I’m a mage!*

All mages feared close combat.

True to his dread, the Abyssal Troll charged, hefting a spiked club taller than a house. At over ten meters tall, its weapon promised annihilation.

The club descended—certain death—until a shimmering barrier flashed before the gentleman.

"Thank goodness I learned a few life-saving spells from the Chancellor," he smirked.

The troll hammered the barrier relentlessly. "Hiding like a coward? A true warrior faces me head-on!"

"This *is* honorable combat!" the gentleman shot back. "I blocked you fairly. Have some shame!"

He clamped his mouth shut. "Ahem. No vulgarities. I’m a gentleman."

The troll retreated after a final strike.

"Given up?" the gentleman taunted. "I suggest you crawl back to whatever hole you came from."

The troll’s laugh was icy. "I never retreat. You die, or I do. Since you hide behind that shield… survive *this*, and I’ll admit defeat. Return to my realm."

The gentleman’s expression sharpened. "Then let’s test your ultimate move against mine. No shields. True strength against true strength."

"*Come!*"

The troll dropped to all fours. A colossal magic circle flared before its maw, swelling rapidly.

The gentleman’s face tightened. *This is no joke. No holding back.*

"*Dance of the Flame Dragons!*" he incanted.

A dozen magic circles ignited before him. Both spells built for thirty agonizing seconds—far too slow for real combat.

Qin Jun watched, unimpressed. *Such flashy spells… but that casting time? One surprise attack and they’re dead.* Both mages would be drained after this.

As the troll unleashed a pillar of darkness, the gentleman roared his finisher. His fire dragons merged into one colossal beast, colliding with the dark beam. The explosion flattened trees for hundreds of meters. The city lord’s group and the necromancer were hurled dozens of meters away by the shockwave.

Both combatants lay broken. The troll chuckled weakly. "A worthy foe… but you haven’t beaten me."

The gentleman smiled faintly. "Wrong. I’ve won."

"What?"

"Look down."

Beneath the troll, hidden magic circles flared. Dozens of fire dragons erupted, coiling around its body. Too weak to resist, the troll accepted its end.

"You *are* strong," it rasped. "I yield. Farewell."

"And you were strong," the gentleman replied. "But you met someone stronger."

*So full of himself,* Qin Jun thought, disgusted. He’d already forged pitch-black armor, encasing himself head to toe—face utterly hidden.

As Falcon City’s Lord Lano Pag moved to thank his savior, the fire dragons binding the troll vanished. Everyone froze. The gentleman stared, stunned. *Impossible. My spell… gone?*

The troll was equally bewildered.

Then—a voice echoed from all directions, deep and ancient:

"Who dares harm my kin? I shall erase you."

Qin Jun materialized above the troll’s head, floating midair, radiating absolute authority.

The troll had no master—but before it could roar defiance, its body locked rigid. Even its tongue froze. *Paralysis magic.*

It understood instantly: this being was beyond its comprehension.

"Who are you?" the gentleman demanded, wary.

"I am the Demon King from another realm," Qin Jun intoned. "All darkness answers to me. You harmed my subject. Explain yourself."

The gentleman had no magic left. This figure had erased his spells effortlessly—power rivaling the Chancellor’s. Level 99, at least. *Pick your battles.*

"We dueled fairly," he said carefully. "Life and death were accepted. You have no right to interfere. Ask my opponent."

Qin Jun hadn’t planned to kill him—just ruin his swagger. *My* grand entrance was stolen. Unacceptable.

"Hmph. I believe you," Qin Jun declared. "But harming my kin demands consequence. Death is spared… but a minor curse shall claim you in one hour."

He flicked his wrist. The gentleman couldn’t resist. *Confirmed. This is a supreme powerhouse. Never cross him.*

*Demon King?* the gentleman scoffed inwardly. *Delusional. The last Demon King died centuries ago. Modern demons hide in shadows.*

"Leave," Qin Jun commanded. "Spread word of my might. Soon, my name shall echo across this continent."

As he spoke, his face flushed slightly. *So cringey. How do these show-offs stay so calm?* But the title was finally claimed. They’d spread the word.

Now… to deal with that insignificant necromancer.