Villain of Fate: The Tyrant System

Chapter 264: A War God’s Humiliation

A War God’s Humiliation

"You’re still worried about your... Car."

Before Elder Smith could finish, he retched again.

The old man bent over by the roadside, one hand braced against his knee while the other covered his mouth.

The fresh countryside air should have been pleasant.

Unfortunately, every time a faint breeze drifted from the direction of the Audi, his stomach immediately revolted.

Yaman looked as if he had suffered a devastating financial loss.

His beloved car stood several meters away like a contaminated disaster zone.

The young disciple’s face was pale.

That car had been purchased with years of savings.

Now he wasn’t even sure whether it could ever be cleaned properly.

Nearby, Cheery stood beneath the afternoon sunlight.

Her long silver-pink hair fluttered softly in the wind.

One delicate hand still covered her nose.

The elegant successor of Voidspring Mountain had spent her entire life cultivating martial arts among mountains and forests.

She had witnessed bloody battles.

She had seen deadly poisons.

She had encountered all sorts of strange things.

Yet today’s experience had managed to leave a deep impression on her.

Her beautiful brows remained tightly furrowed.

The image of the mighty Martial Art King instantly collapsed in her mind.

A Gold Realm expert.

A renowned War God.

Reduced to this state.

It was difficult not to feel disappointed.

After about five minutes by the roadside.

A still expressionless Steffan finally got out of the car.

His movements were stiff.

His posture was awkward.

The previous arrogance and confidence that had accompanied him to the Tyson Family had completely vanished.

He took off his jacket and tied it around his waist, covering his unsightly pants.

His face was calm.

Too calm.

The kind of calm that appeared when someone was trying desperately not to murder everyone around them.

The moment Yaman saw him emerge, he instinctively took two steps backward.

Even Elder Smith subconsciously widened the distance between them.

Only Cheery remained where she stood.

Though even she discreetly moved another step farther away.

The atmosphere became strangely silent.

Steffan naturally noticed.

His fists tightened.

The humiliation burned through him like acid.

Today had truly been the worst day since he returned to Europe.

First he was defeated by Julian D’Aurelius.

Then he lost face before Cheery.

Then his body betrayed him.

Then three people fled from him as if he were carrying a contagious disease.

A vein throbbed on his forehead.

He would remember this day forever.

"Mr. Steffan, were you ambushed by that guy during the fight?"

Elder Smith, eager to win Steffan over, quickly approached to help him out.

The old man sincerely wanted to repair their relationship.

After all, Steffan’s status and talent were extraordinary.

Building a connection with such a person would benefit Voidspring Mountain greatly.

Unfortunately.

As he got closer, he couldn’t help but retch again.

"Ugh—"

The old man hurriedly turned away.

Steffan’s face immediately darkened further.

His expression became as black as ink.

The corners of his eyes twitched uncontrollably.

He knew Elder Smith wasn’t doing it intentionally.

That somehow made it even worse.

He shouted angrily.

"That guy is extremely treacherous, ambushing me during the fight, causing today’s humiliation. I will make the D’Aurelius Family pay for this in blood!"

The words burst from his mouth like a vow.

His eyes burned with resentment.

Every memory of Julian replayed repeatedly inside his head.

The confident smile.

The overwhelming attacks.

The humiliation in front of countless spectators.

The hidden force that had ravaged his body afterward.

The more he thought about it, the more murderous intent surged within him.

Yaman immediately nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, make him pay in blood! Beat him until he soils himself too."

The young disciple thought he was helping.

After all, supporting Steffan might improve their relationship.

And perhaps...

Just perhaps...

Steffan would compensate him for the psychological damage suffered by his Audi.

Unfortunately.

The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere froze.

"..."

Elder Smith glared fiercely at his disciple.

His eyes practically screamed.

You idiot!

Of all topics, you chose that one?

Yaman instantly realized his mistake.

His neck shrank.

He awkwardly looked away.

Steffan stood there silently.

A few seconds passed.

Then several more.

Strangely enough, he didn’t explode.

He didn’t even become angrier.

Because he had already reached a level beyond anger.

He was numb.

Completely numb.

When humiliation reached a certain point, people simply stopped reacting.

He said expressionlessly, "I have some matters to attend to, I’ll contact you all later."

Nobody stopped him.

Nobody knew what to say.

Cheery simply watched quietly.

Her beautiful green eyes remained calm.

But inwardly, she couldn’t stop comparing him to Julian.

Before today, she had viewed Steffan quite highly.

Young.

Powerful.

A Gold Realm expert.

One of the most talented martial artists of his generation.

Yet after witnessing everything today...

The image had cracked considerably.

Julian might be shameless.

Julian might be strange.

Julian might constantly think absurd things.

But when facing a powerful enemy, he had displayed courage, confidence, and overwhelming combat strength.

The comparison was difficult to ignore.

Steffan naturally failed to notice her thoughts.

With that, he quickly headed back to the hotel where he was staying.

The journey back felt unusually long.

Every passerby seemed suspicious.

Every glance seemed mocking.

Every whisper sounded like laughter.

By the time he finally reached the hotel, his patience had completely run out.

After returning to the hotel and freshening up.

The hot water washed away the dirt.

But it couldn’t wash away the humiliation.

Steffan changed into a bathrobe and sat heavily on the sofa.

The luxurious hotel suite was silent.

The city lights outside glowed brilliantly through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Yet his mood remained gloomy.

The intelligence reports had been wrong.

Completely wrong.

He had thought that with his strength, he could walk freely in Europe and complete his mission with ease.

But he hadn’t expected the plan to be so unsuccessful!

That guy named Julian D’Aurelius was nothing like the intelligence had suggested!

Wasn’t he supposed to be just a rich playboy?

The information provided by Obsidian Wing described Julian as an arrogant young master obsessed with women, luxury, and entertainment.

Nothing more.

Nothing dangerous.

Nothing worthy of concern.

Yet reality had slapped him across the face.

How could an ordinary playboy beat him like this?

Steffan’s fingers tapped slowly against the sofa armrest.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

His eyes narrowed.

A dangerous coldness appeared within them.

He replayed every detail of the battle.

Julian’s techniques.

Julian’s speed.

Julian’s confidence.

Something wasn’t right.

Very wrong.

Either the intelligence was false.

Or Julian had hidden himself from everyone.

Including Obsidian Wing.

Neither possibility was good news.

For the first time, Steffan began viewing Julian as a genuine threat.

Not merely an obstacle.

A threat.

A man capable of disrupting the entire mission.

The room gradually fell silent again.

Outside, distant traffic lights illuminated the city.

Inside, murderous intent quietly accumulated.

"I need to change my approach. Relying solely on force won’t solve the problem. I need to use wisdom. Europe is different after all."

He muttered to himself, silently plotting in his mind.

Like a venomous snake lurking in the shadows.