The Seven Sisters and Their Hidden King-Chapter 415: Just a Little Case

This man wasn't famous.

He wasn't feared.

And yet, in front of the entire world, he dared to taunt the King.

A heavy silence fell for a heartbeat.

Then—the curses came.

"How dare you!"

"You're not even qualified to speak to our King!"

"You're the real clown here!"

Martial artists from across the U.S. rose in defense of their King, shouting him down with rage and fury.

They were furious—and they were good at making that known.

But the young man didn't flinch.

He didn't rage or cower.

He merely sneered.

Unbothered.

Unmoved.

Then, raising a hand, he said in a low voice:

"Get up."

A figure suddenly floated into the air.

It was Daniel, the leader of the Ninja League.

"Die."

Bang!

With nothing but a sneer and a word, Daniel's body ripped apart mid-air—disintegrating before anyone could even process it.

Just like that, he was gone.

Daniel never got the chance to speak.

Why me? was the last thought in his head.

He hadn't even said a word to the arrogant stranger.

Why kill him?

Why now?

But it was too late.

It happened so fast, Daniel didn't even have time to scream.

What horrible luck.

But in the mind of this mysterious young man, Daniel was the most "powerful-looking" martial artist nearby—and that made him a convenient target.

A warning shot.

And it was effective.

The cursing stopped instantly.

Everyone stood frozen, eyes wide.

That was no ordinary martial artist.

That was a cultivator.

Only a cultivator could kill someone like that—without even leaving a trace of inner power behind.

The U.S. martial artists fell silent, afraid to even breathe too loud.

Foreign visitors stood stunned.

They had always believed martial artists were the peak of strength—but now, they knew better.

The cultivators... the ones who lived in the secluded Alps Mountain... they were on a different level entirely.

And after witnessing that terrifying display, many foreigners whispered the same thought:

Is this another King of Horizon?

The U.S. now seemed even more mysterious.

The young man's name was Steph Uran—a cultivator from the Alps.

He had only come down from the mountain while searching for the Holy Fire Tripod of Queen Cyan.

He hadn't planned on staying.

But when he saw the Kingslayer Alliance arrive, he decided to stick around—just to observe.

To Steph, the so-called alliance was trash. An easy-to-handle mess.

He watched everything unfold, unimpressed.

Even when John showed up and wiped out the alliance, Steph's expression never changed.

To him, it was all just a game played by children.

He knew John was a cultivator too.

So what?

In Steph's eyes, John was a joke.

Real cultivators were supposed to quietly cultivate power deep in the mountains—not chase fame or public adoration.

John, on the other hand, clearly thrived on the spotlight.

To Steph, that meant only one thing: John wasn't strong enough to earn respect in the mountains, so he came here to play King instead.

The King of Horizon?

Loved by the people?

In Steph's mind, John was nothing more than a showman—a weakling who bullied lesser fighters to build his name.

Steph believed that if anyone deserved recognition, it was him.

So when he heard John speak those bold words as if he ruled the world...

He couldn't take it anymore.

He stepped forward—and killed Daniel.

Just to make a point.

To remind John, and everyone watching, who the real strongest man was.

And there was another reason, too:

The Excalibur.

Steph had sensed its power the moment he saw it.

To him, it was a sacred treasure—something John had no right to wield.

It was a waste, a shameless disgrace, to see such a relic in the hands of someone so unworthy.

And so, the crowd stood silent.

In the middle of what was supposed to be John's crowning moment, another young powerhouse had emerged—and stolen the stage.

People began whispering, wondering...

What would John do now?

They all turned to him—hoping to read his emotions.

But John?

Expressionless.

He didn't even seem interested.

To him, this wasn't a threat.

It was just... annoying.

Like a stray dog barking for attention.

John didn't even want to waste energy reacting.

His only thought?

"That expression... what the hell does he want?"

Daniel's death?

Just a little case.

Boring.