Chef in the Apocalypse

Just as Shakar was about to finish off the man who had killed his disciple, the loud roar shook the atmosphere, causing him to shudder involuntarily.

He was forced to stop in place, not daring to move another step forward, lest he piss off the new arrival. Inwardly he was shaking, however due to his status as a Nascent Soul cultivator, he did his best to not show it outwardly.

Shakar turned his gaze slowly towards the direction the roar sounded from, doing his best to keep his composure. His eyes narrowed when he saw the figure that had appeared just 50 yards away from him.

The figure looked like a small boy, barely a teenager. His hair was blue and spiky, while his eyebrows were shaped like swords. Despite his outward appearance, his cold blue eyes held a hint of intelligence and power.

"Hello fellow Daoist, my humble name is Shakar. May I know your esteemed name?" Shakar asked, cupping his fists and bowing slightly.

It was common courtesy to introduce yourself first before requesting the name of another cultivator. Cultivators, especially older ones were sticklers for manners and propriety. Some would even kill without a word should they feel they were disrespected.

The young boy ignored him, focusing his sharp eyes on the figure of Victor who had landed on the ground some distance away.

After not receiving a response, Shakar felt his anger rise. Just as he was about to speak another word, the newest intruder finally looked in his direction.

His fierce gaze quashed the anger before it had a chance to settle, scaring the living daylights out of the old man. He felt as insignificant as an ant before the young boy, which only served to frustrate him even more.

"You did this?" The boy asked simply.

Shakar opened his mouth and was about to answer, yet in the next moment he stopped himself. He was currently in too much of a passive position. If he just answered, it was likely that this boy would just attack afterwards.

He needed to put pressure on this boy, in hopes of protecting himself while also gaining some benefits. Shakar was already 300 years old and could be considered a sly old fox.

"Fellow Daoist. This is a personal matter, I ask that you do not interfere." He said, bowing slightly.

"Personal matter?" The boy responded.

"Yes. He has taken the life of my only disciple, making us irreconcilable enemies. As long as you do not interfere, our Black Desert Sect will be eternally grateful to you." He answered.

Shakar wasn’t sure what sect this boy was from, but the face that he was so strong at such a young age meant that he likely had a powerful background. As long as he agreed to look the other way, there might be a chance of gaining a connection in the future.

If he could hold onto the golden thigh of a stronger sect, this trip to Earth might not turn out to be a complete disaster. After all, he could always get a new disciple in the future while he may not get another chance to interact with this genius again.

"Oh, the Black Desert Sect huh?" the boy replied thoughtfully.

Shakar’s eyes lit up, feeling a burst of happiness.

"Yes! Located on Tartarus."

Yet in the next moment, his flourishing emotions were instantly trampled on, causing his face to fall.

"Ahh. Never heard of it."

The youngster paused, before continuing with a bored expression. "Anyway, I can’t let you kill this person. I have orders to bring him back with me."

Shakar’s eyes narrowed. Was this kid making fun of him?

He felt his mood sour at the boys response. The lack of respect he was given in addition to being completely disregarded left him with a lot of anger that he could not vent out.

"I understand fellow Daoist"

However, he kept his grievances inside. Shakar bowed in response, making his intention to yield clear as day.

The young boy had no reaction, not even acknowledging his good will. He merely flew past Shakar and headed towards Victor as if nothing had happened. Clearly he thought that the respect he received was only natural.

Shakar gritted his teeth, feeling humiliated with the proceedings. Having been forced to bow his head to this youngster was bad enough, yet now he would have to watch said youngster take away the man who had murdered his disciple right in front of his own eyes.

For a moment, hints of madness crept into his eyes, threatening to take over his rationality.

The young boy landed on the ground and looked curiously at the unconscious body laying on the ground. Victor had already reverted back to his human form since being knocked out and was currently almost as naked as the day he was born.

He knelt down and grabbed a piece of jewelry that was hanging from Victor’s neck. It was an amulet that had been smashed beyond recognition.

The boys brows furrowed for a moment before returning to normal. He then reached down and grabbed the wrist, attempting to check his pulse.

As soon as he made contact with the man, his body throbbed in response, feeling a sort of resonance. Their Dragons blood pulsed with life, as if recognizing each other.

"Oh?" The young boy could only exclaim in surprise as he felt he Dragon blood within Victor try to oppress his own. This could only mean that the purity of his blood was at the same level, if not more than his.

He was a core disciple, mainly because his potential and purity of his Dragons blood. If this man could rival his own purity, then he could understand why his Uncle had sent him to this backwater planet to retrieve him.

’I really can not let anything else happen to this person.’ He thought inwardly, throwing the man over his shoulder.

His gaze turned to the old man who was still in the sky with his head bowed.

Without another word, he kicked off the ground and made his way back to the breach where he had entered.

The young boy kept his eye on the Shakar the entire time, only turning his back once he had reached the opening. Thankfully, the old fool had not chosen to attack.

Or at least that was what he had thought.

Just as he was about to step through the threshold, he felt the hairs on his neck rise up in danger. Out of instinct, he managed to dodge to the side, feeling the powerful palm graze against his left arm.

The attack continued onwards, striking the breach. The clouds quickly stirred, sending out errant lightning attacks in every direction.

The boy who still had Victor on his shoulder, was suddenly showered by multicolored bolts of lightning. Deep blue scales suddenly appeared all over his body, deflecting some of the attacks.

Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Victor who had attracted the remaining lightning bolts. His body thrashed around in response, causing the boy to almost drop him.

"You wish to die?" The boy turned around, narrowing his pulsing blue eyes at the old man, the rage within evident.

"Did you think I would just let you leave with the man who killed my disciple? He must pay for his transgressions with his life!" Shakar eyes were burning red as he spat out these words.

His face was covered in madness. The humiliation he received had finally pushed him over the edge, to the point where he did not care about the consequences of his actions.

The boy shook his head in annoyance.

"What makes you think that you have the ability to stop me from leaving?" He responded, his cold gaze staring deeply at the old man.

However, Shakar was too far gone to notice, let alone care about the difference in strength. Without wasting another breath, he charged forward and threw out palm after palm.

His attacks were overbearing, causing the surroundings to tremble from the pressure he exerted.

Yet these attacks did not even touch the hem of the boys robe. With a flash, he suddenly disappeared from the path of the palms, reappearing a fraction of a second later behind Shakar.

The old man had noticed his presence change and was about to throw out an attack and put some distance between them. Yet he did not have the chance.

CRUNCH!

The boys head suddenly grew almost 10 times larger, metamorphosing into that of a Dragons while his body remained the same size. He opened his maw and bit down on Shakar’s body, easily tearing through his flesh and bones.

A moment later, the Dragon head spat out the head and shoulders of the old man, before reverting to its original size and appearance.

There was no pity in the boys eyes, yet there was a hint of disgust. Having to taste the flesh of such an old man left a bad taste in his mouth.