Establishing true dominance!

It has finally happened: the long-awaited awakening rite is finally soon taking place.

A year has passed since Nicolaus has started training like a madman, akin to a dog sticking his tongue out, saliva ejaculating back and forth, sweating buckets of water each day, and at last, with only a few hours left for the youths to gather.

Wet footsteps echoed out as Nicolaus's dripping wet hair because of the bath, smooth and silky, he arrived at the nearby mirror and witnessed the result of his hard work.

Tall and sturdy, Nicolaus stood straight like a spear with his back arched to perfection..... and by flexing his muscles slightly, his tanned skin looked like bronze made out of unwavering and relentless metal that was constantly being hammered to perfection.

Kacha! In an instant, Nicolaus formed a straight hook in front of him, and with that, pure strength could be felt etched into his bones, and Nicolaus nodded to himself, pleased by the results.

"If I hadn't earned this sort of strength, while I dragged myself about like a dog every single day, and with that lunatic old man guiding me, then, I would've strangled myself to death if I hadn't progressed even after all I'd done."

The peak of Heroic Stage! An absolute monster! At the age of five, a 5-year-old had progressed from being a weak mortal child to being a 6-year-old monster that already had the ability to immediately kill a mortal man with a single punch.

Eyeballs rupture, blood spilling out, it would be a massacre if a Heroic Stage warrior is to be pitted against ordinary mortals, and it wouldn't even be considered a slight warmup.

Breakthrough after Breakthrough, Nicolaus experienced that with regular training, it would take years for someone to break through past the boundary of the Heroic Stage and into the Resilence Stage.

After all of that was said and done, Nicolaus put on a pair of rough linen clothing to prepare himself for the affair.

Boarfang gave him a pat on the shoulder, and his mother, Geraldine, wrapped him in a loving hug. They have witnessed the metamorphosis of their son. No longer is he the restless and weeping boy of a year ago, but rather a stern and mature youth.

Nicolaus' facial characteristics have not changed from those of a 6-year-old boy, but the manner he conducts himself and the results of his training, his actions deemed as an adult. His tanned face didn't betray a mature look on it. As even Boarfang is astounded by his change.

"Unreal, such poise..... That expression in his eyes told the story of how he had been through hell and back..... Fighting through odds and being steadfast in his principles, and it should be noted that training is very dull and boring, and this child would have trained all day to reach this state..... Well done, I wouldn't expect more from my son!" While gazing at his son, Boarfang expressed himself internally.

"Give 'em hell, kiddo..." Boarfang shared his thoughts.

Nicolaus responded with a solid nod, and as he looked about at the other youngsters in his peripheral vision, he took huge steps with unshakable confidence.

It was jam-packed with children who were at least 6 years old. When it came to a making an entrance, Nicolaus swaggered himself in the fray. Like a true exaggerated swagger of a Silent Bolder warrior, he didn't place these mortal youths in his eyes, as they didn't even exhibit a sense of threat on him.

As shown by their sloppy footwork, their weak upper cores, and their sweaty and nervous expressions, such competitors to the old man Nicolaus seem to be nothing more than child's play in comparison.

His trademark silver hair flailed in the breeze like a genuine work of art, and the group of youths moved away as they became disturbed with his presence. Not by his normal charisma as the black cat of the tribe that had been cursed with unbearable luck, but by his newfound position as the old shaman's apprentice!

Times have changed since then. he once-black sheep has been mutated into a tiger, as unexpectedly after Nicolaus became a disciple of the old fart, the tribe had a change of eyes on him. Like replacing a dirty and wretched lightbulb that was filled of filth, the people eyed Nicolaus as their expression turned into envy, denial, dismay, and eventually hopelessness.

How could this brat become the old shaman's disciple? Did the old shaman saw wrongly? What could this brat do, that my kid cant? Dammit, either the old shaman is muddled or am I just unable to see it!

Along the lines, countless thoughts drifted along the tribe, as they clinched their teeth and clenched their fists as they stared at their own sons and daughters as they shook their heads at one another with incredulity.

After making eye contact with them, Nicolaus regarded the other brats as if they were farts and a pile of dog shit on the side of the road. They could feel pressure as soon as they returned Nicolaus' stare, and with that they all averted their attention to the side.

Even the little girls are not exempted to this fate, as Nicolaus acted like a local little tyrant, as he now established his dominance! Show no fear, strive forth courageously and the crab soldiers, lurkers, and vile cowardly fiends will be intimidated by your presence!

With true might, Nicolaus used the oldest trick in the book, and that is true and utter strength.

"Bunch of snot-noosed brats, prepare to bleed, if you ever cross path's with me..." Nicolaus grinned as his adorable dimples peeked out from his face.