Chapter 875: Shadowthorn Tribe

Chapter 875: Shadowthorn Tribe

The Shadowthorn Tribe sat close to the Whitethorn Tribe, just a short drive away.

The Shadowthorn Tribe gave off a more military vibe, with bamboo fences all around, watchtowers perched on top, and tribe members keeping watch.

Spotting an outsider's ride approaching, they quickly alerted the tribe.

Benjamin opted for a smooth approach, sporting shades and a fake beard. He, Janet, and Gavin hopped out of the car and strolled up to the main gate.

Benjamin signaled Gavin to do the talking.

Gavin said, "Let your chief know that Janet wants to chat."

The guy nodded and swung open the bamboo gate.

The trio entered the compound, led by a Shadowthorn Tribe member, passing watchtowers and houses until they reached the highest spot. A villa-style building stood before them.

The man said, "This is where the chief stays. We've told him you're here, so hang tight."

After a brief wait at the door, the villa's entrance creaked open, and a scruffy young man in his twenties emerged. Gavin made the introductions, "Benjamin, meet Anson, the chief's son. Anson, this is Mr. Smith." Gavin kept Benjamin's real name under wraps since he was incognito.

Benjamin nodded upon recognizing Anson. He had a knack for reading people and could tell from Anson's eyes that he was shady and untrustworthy. Combined with his rough looks and unattractive features, it was clear why Janet wasn't keen on marrying him.

Benjamin scrunched his face and remarked to Anson, "You've got a unique look, almost like an ancient ape."

Anson, a true Shadowthorn Tribe member who rarely left, struggled with the Stormaria language. He only caught the word "unique" in Benjamin's fancy talk and thought Benjamin was praising him. Impressed by Benjamin's demeanor and words, Anson replied, "Thanks for the kind words, Benjamin. Come on in."

Benjamin was taken aback when Anson didn't catch the sarcasm in his comment. While Gavin got the gist, he held back from stepping in. It was Janet who persisted, "Anson, Benjamin wasn't giving you a compliment. He said you resemble Mason Taylor!"

Initially irked by Benjamin's words, Anson quickly realized they weren't in jest. Suspecting Janet of stirring trouble, he, despite his feelings for her, had always maintained a distance, wary of the repercussions of getting too close.

So, he shrugged off Janet's teasing, shooting her a look that seemed to say, "Just wait until we're hitched, then you'll see." With a smile, he retorted, "You're quite the prankster, Janet. Benjamin seems like a refined guy; he wouldn't say something like that."

Benjamin knew he had to be blunt, so he stated, "Anson, Janet's right. I did say you resemble Mason Taylor."

Anson caught Benjamin's meaning and, with a menacing tone, demanded, "What are you getting at?"

Benjamin shot back impolitely, "Exactly what Janet said. You're not the right match for her."

Though seething, Anson reined in his anger, acknowledging the elders' arranged marriage. He conceded, "Even if I don't want to, I have to go along with it."

Benjamin countered, "Have you ever considered if Janet wants to go along with it?"

Just then, a commanding voice echoed from the villa, "Who's causing a ruckus in the courtyard?" A middle-aged man with a square face, a lone eye, clad in black with a black headband, strode out. He exuded authority and power, unmistakably the chief of the Shadowthorn Tribe.

Anson promptly bowed respectfully to his father, announcing, "Father! Janet, your future daughter-in-law, has arrived."

Indeed, he was the chief of the Shadowthorn Tribe.

The chief eyed Benjamin, sensing he was no ordinary visitor. Approaching Benjamin, he scrutinized him with his lone eye and inquired, "Where do you hail from?"

"I'm from the capital," Benjamin replied.

The chief looked slightly surprised and asked, "And what might your name be?"

"I'm Benjamin," he stated, removing his sunglasses but retaining the fake beard. He believed the beard lent him an air of maturity and authority, making him appear more commanding in the eyes of others.

Benjamin's name carried weight in Stormaria. Despite the Shadowthorn Tribe's secluded location, news of Benjamin had reached their ears. The chief of the tribe, visibly taken aback, inquired, "Are you Benjamin from the Stormaria Warlords?"

"Yes," Benjamin responded calmly.

Though the chief was unfamiliar with Benjamin personally, he had seen images of him before. Finding the young man before him a spitting image of the person in the pictures left him even more astounded. Aware of Benjamin's formidable reputation and skills, he knew his tribe stood no chance against him. If Benjamin sought conflict, he could easily decimate their entire settlement.

Blinking his lone eye, the chief asked, "What brings you here?"

"Nothing much," Benjamin replied in a near-menacing tone. "I simply want you to cancel the marriage and agree to keep the peace with the Whitethorn Tribe. Let's steer clear of each other. If you break this pact, I'll make your Shadowthorn Tribe regret it."

Though Anson wasn't fluent in Stormaria's language, he grasped the gist of everyday speech. Sensing hostility from Benjamin's demeanor and tone, he pointed at Benjamin, exclaiming, "Who do you think you are, strutting in here like you own the place?"

Without a second thought, Benjamin deftly seized Anson's right hand, twisted it skillfully, and pinned his arm behind his back.

Anson possessed knowledge of combat techniques and was considered a formidable fighter among his peers. Yet, he was caught off guard by his inability to resist Benjamin, feeling utterly outmatched.

"You're playing dirty!" Anson protested. "Didn't expect you to challenge me to a brawl!"

"Is that so?" Benjamin responded casually, then released Anson, challenging, "Anson, let's see what you've got."

Anson assumed a Muay Thai stance, gearing up to face off against Benjamin.

The chief of the Shadowthorn Tribe frowned, initially considering stepping in. However, a sudden realization dawned on him, prompting him to refrain from intervening with Anson. Instead, he instructed Benjamin, "Wait for my signal." Giving Anson a menacing look, he clearly communicated, "Give it your all, thrash him!"

Growing weary of Benjamin's cockiness and demeanor, the chief had reached his limit. He had exercised patience, but Benjamin's continuous provocations had worn thin. Unable to directly confront Benjamin in his position as chief, he opted to let his son attempt to school Benjamin. If Anson emerged victorious, the chief could boast, and if he failed, he could pass it off as a friendly match to prevent Benjamin from seeking retribution.

Seeing through the chief's scheme, Benjamin merely smirked inwardly, thinking, "What a clueless fool."

Indeed, these close-minded individuals underestimated Benjamin's current prowess. A Terrestrial Realm expert was akin to an impenetrable tank, while a Celestial Realm expert possessed the power to obliterate tanks. Though Benjamin's First-Stage Celestial Realm might not rival the combat prowess of an aircraft carrier, his strength was on par with a Third-Stage Celestial Realm. Such power was a rarity in Stormaria. Benjamin could effortlessly eradicate the entire Shadowthorn Tribe with a mere gesture. Anson's feeble attempt to challenge him with his basic Muay Thai skills was comical.

In Benjamin's view, Muay Thai didn't rank as a sophisticated combat technique. Even if a boxing champion were present, Benjamin was confident in his ability to triumph through sheer skill. Only someone like Anson would regard Muay Thai as the pinnacle of combat prowess.

Confronted by Anson's aggressive stance, Benjamin didn't bother to ready himself. He stood motionless, arms folded, calmly observing Anson's approach.

There existed an unwritten rule in formal combat that forbade attacking until the opponent was prepared. Striking prematurely would be deemed a cheap shot, violating the code of honor and sullying the victor's reputation. Oblivious to Benjamin's deliberate disregard, Anson taunted him, "What's the matter? Afraid of my Muay Thai skills? Can't handle the heat? Surrender now, and you can skedaddle without a fuss!"