The Sinful Young Master

Chapter 370: Princess Tamnarasi, the general

Tamnarasi’s jaw clenched. She hated the question because the answer was uncertain. She was powerful, possibly powerful enough to win in a direct fight. But "winning" might mean reducing the entire area to rubble.

"I will resolve this issue myself," Wymar continued.

"Give me authority to mediate, and I promise you a solution that doesn’t require bloodshed in the streets of Cahns’ar."

"Your Highness—"

"I need to deal with this today," Tamnarasi stated firmly. But seeing the expression of defiance on Jolthar’s face, she got angry quickly.

"Right now. I will not have some upstart baron thinking he can defy imperial authority and simply walk away because a mage asked nicely."

She raised her sword again, this time gripping it with both hands in a combat stance.

"Jolthar Kaezhlar, you will come with me immediately, or I will take you by force."

The plaza went silent.

Everyone understood they were witnessing the moment before violence erupted.

Jolthar’s expression shifted.

The restraint he’d been showing began to crack, and something dangerous appeared in his eyes. A smirk formed on his lips—not amused, but challenging.

"You can’t even touch a hair on me," he said quietly, but his voice carried across the entire plaza.

The statement was so absolute, so completely confident, that for a moment Tamnarasi actually froze in surprise. Then her face flushed with rage.

"What did you say?"

"I said," Jolthar repeated, his smirk widening, "you can’t touch me. You’re powerful, Princess. Tier 9, commander of the Dreadmarchen, daughter of the Empress. Impressive. But you’re still not strong enough to make me do anything I don’t want to do."

"You arrogant—" Tamnarasi’s aura exploded outward with her fury.

Jolthar’s aura surged to meet it, and this time he released just slightly more of his restraint.

The impact was like two avalanches colliding.

The cobblestones beneath them shattered completely, chunks of stone lifting into the air before crashing back down. Buildings groaned as their foundations shook. People screamed and ran, fleeing the plaza as fast as they could move.

The Dreadmarchen knights formed a defensive line, their own collective aura rising to protect civilians from the worst of the pressure.

But even they were struggling to maintain their footing.

Milan grabbed Cleora and Raayani, pulling them back toward the courthouse entrance, where the stone structure might provide some protection. Andrion had already retreated, his expression fascinated despite the danger.

Tamnarasi and Jolthar stood at the center of the destruction, their powers locked in direct opposition. Lightning seemed to arc between them, though no actual electricity was present—it was purely the visual manifestation of their clashing energies.

"You will submit!" Tamnarasi shouted, pouring more of her power into the confrontation.

"No," Jolthar replied simply, and his aura expanded further.

Tamnarasi actually stumbled backward a step, her eyes widening in shock. He was still holding back—she could sense it—but even his restrained power was beginning to overwhelm her.

If he released everything...

"You can’t even touch a hair on me."

The words hung in the air like a lit fuse waiting to explode.

For Princess Tamnarasi, commander of the Dreadmarchen and daughter of the Empress, a woman who had spent her entire life cultivating power and authority, those words were more than an insult.

They were a denial of everything she represented. Her entire identity was built on being untouchable, undefeatable, the Emperor’s ultimate weapon.

And this young baron had just dismissed her as irrelevant.

Something inside her snapped.

Her aura exploded with such force that everyone within a hundred feet was thrown backward. The Dreadmarchen knights braced themselves, but even they staggered.

Civilians who hadn’t already fled were knocked off their feet.

"YOU DARE—" she roared and moved.

Her speed was phenomenal.

One moment she was standing at the base of the courthouse steps. The next, she had closed the distance to Jolthar and grabbed him by the front of his shirt with grip strength that could crush stone.

Jolthar’s eyes widened fractionally, not with fear, but surprise at her raw speed and power.

Tamnarasi spun, using her momentum and supernatural strength, and hurled Jolthar like a catapult stone. He shot through the air so fast he became a blur, rocketing over buildings and streets, arcing high above the city of Cahns’ar.

"Princess, no!"

Wymar shouted, but it was too late.

Tamnarasi leaped after Jolthar, her body propelling itself through the air with bursts of power that shattered roof tiles wherever her feet touched during her pursuit. She bounded from building to building, following the trajectory of the man she’d just thrown.

On the ground, Milan stared in shock.

"She just... threw him out of the city."

"She didn’t want to fight here," Raayani said, with a slight surprise in her tone. But she wasn’t worried about Jolthar. As she knew that she wasn’t a threat to Jolthar.

"Too much collateral damage. She’s taking the battle somewhere it won’t destroy Cahns’ar."

Cleora nodded, "Just like Jolthar does."

Andrion watched with fascinated attention.

"Smart. Brutal, but smart. If they fought in the plaza, thousands could die."

He turned to both women and asked, "Aren’t you worried for him?"

"He can handle himself," Raayani said, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced.

"That princess is Tier 9. One of the strongest warriors in the empire."

"So," Cleora said with clarity in her expression.

*

Jolthar crashed into the ground beyond the city walls with devastating force.

The impact created a crater fifteen feet wide and several feet deep. Dirt and rock exploded outward in a massive cloud of debris. The sound echoed across the plains like thunder.

For a moment, there was only dust and silence.

Then Jolthar stood up from the center of the crater, brushing dirt from his clothes. His body ached from the impact—Tamnarasi’s throw had been no joke. But his bones were intact, his muscles still responsive. He was built for this kind of punishment.

He looked up just in time to see Tamnarasi land thirty feet away, her boots striking the ground with enough force to crack the earth beneath her. She straightened, drawing her magnificent sword fully and pointing it at him once more.