The Last Paragon in the Apocalypse

Klaus didn’t even bother to lift his head. He kept chewing, completely unbothered. Without looking up, he muttered, “Put a leash on it, boy. This big daddy is eating.” His voice was casual, almost lazy, but the message was clear. He wasn’t interested in playing games.

The room tensed. Klaus’s response was enough to make jaws drop, He wasn’t bothered, not even in the slightest. If someone was calling him out like that, they either wanted attention or had something to prove. Neither option interested him.

The young man stopped in his tracks, clearly taken aback by Klaus’s lack of response or more like his nonchalant response. His face reddened with anger. “Are you really that scared, Klaus? Hiding behind your food?”

Klaus chuckled softly, finally glancing up. “Scared? Of you?” He leaned back, lazily locking eyes with his challenger, a smirk playing on his lips. “No, I’m just not interested in wasting my time. But if you’re desperate for a beating, I can finish up here and give you some attention. Just don’t go running to your daddy when I’m done with you.”

A few people held their breath. The boldness of Klaus’s insult was palpable. Everyone knew the young man challenging Klaus—Taro Hiroshi, the youngest heir of the Hiroshi Great Family. Arrogant yet undeniably talented. He isn’t a nobody for Klaus to be disrespecting like that.

So for Klaus to openly disrespect him like that, none of them couldn’t believe their eyes and ears.

Taro’s eyes narrowed, fury mixing with disbelief. He had expected some kind of reaction, but not this level of defiance. “You think you can just brush me off?” he spat, taking a step closer. “You’re nothing but a cocky fool.”

Klaus shrugged, unfazed. “Cocky? Maybe. But I’ve got the skills to back it up. What do you have? A title and a family name?

That doesn’t scare me.”

The tension in the room thickened, as others exchanged uneasy glances. They could feel the impending clash, a storm brewing between two young warriors. Taro clenched his fists, his body tense with anger. “You think you’re better than me? I, Taro Hiroshi will show you what real power looks like.”

Klaus wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a grin spreading across his face. “Power? Is that what you call throwing a tantrum? Come on, Taro. You should know better than to challenge someone who doesn’t care about your family Name. And yes, I don’t care if you are the son of the Devil himself.

In my eyes, you are a nobody so act like one.”

Klaus’s words hit like a slap in the face to every Great Family heir present. He clearly didn’t care about any of them, especially those who harbored animosity toward him.

“But wait,” Klaus suddenly said raising a finger “Why does it seem like you hate me for no reason? This is my first time in this city and my first time entering this Mansion. So why the hostility? Make no mistake, your family’s hospitality is great.

I enjoyed my food and will savor dessert, but why does this have to include a jerk like you?” He raised an eyebrow, looking directly at Taro, who was clenching his fists in rage.

“Wait, I didn’t steal your woman, did I?” Klaus asked, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Who am I kidding? With a face like yours, you wouldn’t have such luck.” He relished the way Taro’s anger was flaring. Taro is handsome, a lady’s man and he knows it, but he just has to poke the bear. Anna and Lily knew there was no use stopping him now.

Taro clenched his fists, his anger simmering just below the surface. He had no words; Klaus was a monster when it came to this verbal game. Instead of enjoying the same freedom he had when entering the room, Taro found himself made a fool, standing there and seething.

As if sensing the tension, Anna leaned in, whispering something to Klaus. A mischievous smile spread across his face after hearing what she whispered into his ears. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

“On second thought, Taro, I accept your challenge. And don’t worry—you can use your sword. I’ll just use this spoon.” Klaus picked up a five-inch spoon from the table and began walking toward Taro.

His action caught everyone off guard. A spoon? Was he serious? The room erupted into murmurs, disbelief etched on every face.

Taro’s expression shifted from anger to confusion, then to rage. “You think this is a joke?” he shouted

Klaus shrugged, twirling the spoon between his fingers like a seasoned warrior wielding a dagger. “Not at all. I just want to keep things light. You seem so tense” Klaus said with a puffy expression making the others don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The crowd around them watched in a mix of amusement and shock. Klaus was known for his unpredictability, but this was a new level of absurdity. He gave a Legacy heir Handicap, now how, he is giving Taro another handicap? Spoon, really.

“Are you really going to fight me with that?” Taro scoffed, trying to regain his composure.

“Why not? I figured a little spoon would be enough to take care of a honey bastard like you,” Klaus replied, gesturing with the spoon as if he were scooping up honey.

Laughter erupted from the onlookers, and even some of Taro’s anger seemed to falter in the face of Klaus’s ridiculousness. Klaus spun the spoon in his fingers, looking back at Taro.

“Look at you, Taro,” Klaus continued, “getting all worked up over a kitchen utensil. If that’s all it takes to rattle you, maybe you should reconsider this whole warrior thing.”

Taro glared, his face twisting with a mix of fury and humiliation. “You think this is funny? I’ll make you regret this!”

Klaus just chuckled, stepping closer, spoon held high like a knight with his sword. “I’m counting on it. Show me what you’ve got!”

The hall was large enough to accommodate a simple spar between friends, but the tension felt anything but casual. Taro, despite his status as a Great Family heir, drew his sword and looked at Klaus like he was prey. “Don’t regret this later,” he warned, charging at Klaus with determination.

Klaus smirked as Taro closed the distance. When Taro got close, he stabbed his sword forward, clearly intent on hurting Klaus. But Klaus merely sidestepped a glint of amusement in his eyes.

In one fluid motion, he subtly kicked his leg forward, placing it right between Taro’s legs. Before Taro could react, his sword flew from his hand as he tripped over Klaus’s leg. He crashed to the floor, his face hitting the ground first with a thud.

The hall erupted in laughter, the sight of Taro’s face hitting the floor first was just too comical to watch. Klaus stood over him, spoon raised in triumph. “Looks like you forgot to watch your footing, honey bastard!” he teased.

Taro groaned, pushing himself up and glaring at Klaus, his pride wounded. “This isn’t over,” he hissed, his face flushed with embarrassment.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” Klaus replied, still grinning. “Let’s see if you can actually land a hit this time.”

Taro picked up his sword again, fury in his eyes, and charged at Klaus. But before he knew it, his face was hitting the floor once more. Once again the youngsters in the room laughed but not all. Taro’s fall was comical, but not all of them knew how it happened until the second fall.

He charged at Klaus for the third time, but before he could take any action, he was falling on the floor, face first. The laughter in the hall suddenly stopped.

The first fall was amusing; it could happen to anyone. The second was still funny—just a coincidence. But a third? That was something else entirely. Klaus had made Taro’s handsome face hit the ground thrice already.

“Wanna try it again?” Klaus taunted, his smirk growing wider. “To think someone who has his eyes on my girlfriend would be this weak. How disappointing.” The look on Klaus’s face said it all—Taro’s challenge was becoming a waste of time.

“Please, when is dessert getting ready?” Klaus suddenly asked.

Clap, clap, clap.

Before Taro could move, applause rang out from one of the entrances, cutting through the tension. Everyone turned to see who had arrived.