Hearing the furious roars of his comrades behind him, the Predator who had been knocked down immediately got back up. He began cautiously circling William, trying to find a weakness.
For one to two minutes, the Predator paced back and forth, only to see William standing still, holding the double-edged spear loosely, his half-closed eyes fixed intently on him.
Frustrated and aware that his comrades were growing increasingly impatient with his hesitation and poor performance, the Predator steadied his steps and moved closer. Deciding to rely on brute strength, he prepared to engage William directly.
"Boss," Barney and Trench called out simultaneously.
Seeing the Predator's unsportsmanlike persistence after being spared, they aimed their shoulder-mounted Gatling guns, ready to intervene.
Sensing their intent with his telepathic awareness, William raised a hand to stop them. Internally, he cursed the Predators, wondering if their duels only ended with one party dead—and if his act of mercy had insulted them.
If that's the case, fine. I'll make sure this ends definitively.
William grinned. Under the intense scrutiny of the surrounding Predators, he slowly closed his eyes and tilted his head, pretending to listen intently to the wind.
This infuriated the Predator before him, who roared in rage and charged recklessly, slashing wildly with his wrist blades.
William's spear moved effortlessly, deflecting the Predator's strikes with sharp metallic "clang" sounds.
After seven or eight blows, William confirmed that the Predator's strength was only three to four times that of a normal human.
Even without his Mark III armor, William's physical strength was several times greater than the Predator's. With the armor enhancing his power and speed, the fight felt laughably uneven, like an adult casually handling a child.
Standing motionless, William lazily parried the Predator's attacks, boredom creeping into his mind. Are these Predators just space-faring mercenaries?
Their lack of technological advancement over thousands of years—still relying on primitive melee weapons and rudimentary energy guns—seemed to suggest a lack of existential threats or a stagnation of progress within their society.
Perhaps they rely solely on individual combat skills to determine social status.
As William pondered, broader thoughts about the nature of civilizations crossed his mind.
If humanity measures lifespans in decades, the universe measures its own in billions of years.
The universe's age, estimated at 13.82 billion years, dwarfed the lifespan of even the most advanced species. A civilization thriving for a million years might be equivalent to just a fleeting moment in cosmic time.
William wondered if countless once-great species had already destroyed themselves—or fallen victim to higher civilizations.
It's entirely possible that in the vastness of the cosmos, low-tier civilizations encountering advanced ones are routinely annihilated or enslaved.
William snapped out of his thoughts as the Predator continued its relentless but futile assault.
While I could easily crush this opponent, would it provoke their entire species into seeking vengeance?
The portal spell allowed William to escape anywhere on Earth, but what if Earth itself became uninhabitable due to Predator retaliation? And while he could teleport to another planet, such as the Moon or Mars, what would be the point?
What's the use of my wealth and power if there's no one left to appreciate it? Without society, fine cuisine, or entertainment, what's left to live for?
Annoyed by these thoughts, William finally decided to end the fight. With a flick of his spear, he knocked aside the Predator's wrist blades.
Then, with a swift upward punch, he struck the Predator's jaw.
"BANG!"
The sickening crack reverberated across the icy plains.
The Predator, caught off guard after minutes of thinking William wouldn't deliver a decisive blow, was sent flying two meters into the air. A spray of light blue blood and several teeth flew from its mouth.
The Predator landed heavily on the ice, sliding five or six meters before coming to a stop, unconscious.
"ROAR! I AM WILLIAM DEVONSHIRE!"
The rush of adrenaline and the satisfaction of overwhelming victory surged through William. Throwing his arms skyward, he shouted at the dark, star-studded sky.
"I AM WILLIAM DEVONSHIRE, KING OF THE WORLD!"
Behind him, Barney and Trench, caught up in the moment, joined his triumphant roar.
The exhilaration of dominating one's opponent was undeniable. Combined with the fervent support of his followers, it created an intoxicating high.
Despite this euphoria, William's mind remained clear. He had consciously avoided killing the Predator with his spear, knowing it would escalate the situation unnecessarily.
With a smirk, William lifted his spear and pointed it at the remaining Predators.
"In the name of William Devonshire, I challenge ten of you!" he declared dramatically.
Plunging his spear into the ice, he pounded his chest and added in a deep, commanding voice:
"If I die, I will be buried with the honor of a warrior and ascend to heaven as a saint. My name will be remembered forever, respected by all who know it.
But if I win, I demand the respect of a king. I want equal dialogue, trade, and diplomacy—and no further intrusion into Earth without my permission."
William removed his right-hand gauntlet and tossed it at the feet of the Predator elder.
Ignoring the furious glares of the other Predators, who looked ready to tear him apart, William shouted,
"Choose! Uphold your honor, or cowardly use your spaceship to kill me!"
Hearing his words, the once-rowdy Predators fell silent.
All eyes turned to the elder, waiting for his decision.
In truth, William's grand proclamation about ascending to heaven would have been somewhat moving—if not for those who knew him better.
Anyone aware of the secrets buried under the angel statue in Oxford Castle's garden would have scoffed at his audacity. William was no devout believer.
In fact, he was the kind of man who would rather go to hell and be rewarded by Satan than ascend to heaven and face obliteration.
For William, this entire spectacle was calculated.
The Predators lacked advanced weaponry in this trial, and their physical strength and skills were manageable. To him, they were no more threatening than average humans.
As long as they don't escalate things with weapons from their spaceship, I've already won.
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