I Am a Barbarian

The next morning, Diana brought Shane to the training ground.

The car drove out of the city, heading toward the suburbs for over half an hour before finally stopping in front of an empty lot enclosed by black fencing.

There was no signage at the fence entrance. Diana swiped the metal bracelet on her wrist, and the fence slowly opened.

The moment he stepped inside, a flicker of shock passed through Shane's eyes.

The training ground before him was far more expansive than he had imagined, comparable to a standard golf course. The ground was paved with a special elastic material, and in the distance stood several training targets of varying shapes, along with a few transparent energy barriers shimmering faintly in the sunlight.

"The equipment here was set up with help from Superman and Batman," Diana said as she walked and introduced the facility.

"Inside, there's an anti-gravity generator that can simulate the vacuum of space, and an energy impact simulator that can replicate attacks of different intensities."

She raised her hand and pressed a button on a nearby control panel. Shane suddenly felt his body grow lighter, the gravity around him weakening by more than half, the ground beneath his feet turning soft and pliant.

Over the following week, Shane began systematic training.

Diana's training methods were completely different from the brutal trials of Viltrum. She never asked Shane to launch destructive attacks, instead favoring precision movements.

"Power can be used for destruction, but it can also be used for protection," Diana said, holding Shane's wrist as she guided him to apply his strength precisely to a designated spot on the target.

"You need to learn to sense the flow of power, to make it act according to your will, rather than being driven by instinct."

Shane studied earnestly.

He discovered that Diana's strength far exceeded his imagination. Even when she deliberately suppressed her power, relying solely on centuries of accumulated combat experience, she could easily knock him down. This style of fighting, purely dependent on skill and experience, wasn't something Shane had never seen before.

In fact, Viltrumites also trained in combat techniques.

But due to the Viltrumites' inherently superior physique compared to most planets, the Viltrumite school of martial arts was designed to kill enemies of the same tier as quickly as possible—highly aggressive, every move going all out toward the opponent's vital points.

What Diana taught Shane was more akin to the martial arts used by the weaker indigenous peoples on planets conquered by Viltrumites.

In short, against the Viltrumite brute-force approach, such martial arts were utterly useless.

They often couldn't even track a Viltrumite's speed before their chests were punched through.

But what Diana demonstrated was different.

When their power was equal, Shane's savage fighting style couldn't gain any advantage against her.

During breaks in training, Diana occasionally received distress calls from other regions and went to deal with chaos caused by supervillains.

At those times, Shane would stay in the training ground to practice alone, or put on a hoodie and wander the streets of Boston by himself.

Boston's streets were filled with a blend of vintage and modern vibes.

He walked slowly along the Freedom Trail, watching the red-brick paths lined with 18th-century old buildings standing in delightful contrast to modern shops;

He lingered at Quincy Market, smelling the aroma of grilled lobster and clam chowder;

He sat on a bench by the Charles River, watching sunlight spill across the water, the surface glittering, with young people boating and playing in the distance.

This peaceful scene was something he had never experienced on Viltrum, gradually relaxing the nerves that had been taut for over a decade.

Sometimes, Shane would also observe Diana's battles against villains from afar.

Diana wielded the Vulcan Sword, its golden light flashing under the sun, yet she never dealt fatal blows to her opponents. Each of her strikes precisely cut along the enemy's meridians, robbing them of mobility, before knocking them unconscious with a non-lethal heavy blow.

Shane stood in the shadows at a street corner, his brows tightly furrowed.

In his Viltrumite education, this fighting style was practically asking for death.

Holding a blade capable of slaying gods, yet only attacking non-lethal points—it wasted stamina and gave the enemy a chance to counterattack. His instincts screamed at him to charge in and take down those guys with the most direct, violent methods, but in the end, he held back.

Diana's displayed combat prowess and composed mindset forced him to admit that this "non-destructive" style of fighting was also a mark of a strong warrior.

He didn't realize that, as he watched the battle, a figure in a black robe hidden behind the clouds was staring at him with eerie red eyes.

"My dear sister, when did you acquire such a fierce little follower?" the mysterious figure murmured, using magic to probe carefully, growing more astonished with each reading.

This seemingly young boy harbored extremely formidable combat power within him, and a thick scent of blood clung to his body. Through the lens of magic, Shane was wreathed in crimson and black auras, entangled with countless grudges—by sheer number alone, not even weaker than her brother, Ares, the God of War.

Yet such a terrifying mortal left no trace in the records of the Divine Realm, as if he had appeared in this world out of nowhere.

"An interesting little one." A strange smile curled at the corner of the black-robed figure's lips, a glint of calculation flashing in her eyes.

Diana had repeatedly interrupted her attempts to draw energy from the mortal world, and she had long wanted to teach her a lesson that would cut deep.

Perhaps this boy, who had appeared from nowhere, was exactly the "material" she needed.

That afternoon, Shane finished his training and wandered through Boston's North End in a gray hoodie.

This was an Italian enclave; the aroma of pizza shops and cafes wafted thickly from both sides of the street, and colorful graffiti covered the walls.

As Shane looked down at handmade trinkets on a roadside stall, a shadow, its form concealed by magic, landed lightly beside him.

The sudden gaze caught Shane's senses, and he instinctively turned his head to see a bald white woman.

She had eerie green eyes, wore a pair of gold hoop earrings, and was dressed in a tight black bodycon dress that accentuated every curve.

Shane frowned, instinctively finding her outfit a bit out of line, assuming she worked in a special trade, and sidestepped to move around her.

"Excuse me."

"Don't be in such a hurry to leave, little one."

The woman's voice carried a strange, enchanting quality as she slowly opened her palm.

In the center of her hand lay a golden apple, its surface glowing with a soft golden light, as if countless tiny runes were swirling across it.

"I have something good I want to give you."

The moment he saw the golden apple, Shane's pupils sharply contracted.

An indescribable desire surged from the depths of his heart—the possessive instinct of a Viltrumite, an extreme craving for power and rare treasures.

His breathing quickened slightly, his eyes locked onto the golden apple, and the destructive urges and killing instincts he had suppressed began to clamor wildly in his mind.

A flicker of smugness crossed the woman's eyes; she could feel the golden apple's magic taking effect. This apple was a divine artifact—even a young Zeus had been unable to resist its temptation.

Just one more push, and this youth would lose all control.

But she hadn't anticipated that Shane's reaction would be far more direct and brutal than she imagined.

The moment desire surged, Shane didn't hesitate. His body suddenly exploded into motion, his speed leaving an afterimage in the air.

Before the woman could react, his fist, carrying the sound of breaking wind, drove straight through her chest.

"Urgh..."

The smugness in the woman's eyes instantly froze, replaced by stunned disbelief.

She looked down at the bloody hole in her chest, completely unable to understand how things had escalated to this point.

Shane ignored her shock and reached to snatch the golden apple from her palm.

Blood spilled from the woman's lips, but her eyes turned panicked. She instinctively channeled her magic, causing Shane's hand to pass straight through the golden apple.

The two seemed to exist in different spaces, unable to touch each other at all.

"Damn it! Where did this barbarian come from!"

The woman tried to breathe a sigh of relief, but Shane's second reaction was just as swift.

He pulled back the arm that had pierced through the woman, then his fingers clamped down hard on her spine.

Though he had never encountered magic before, Shane's combat instincts, now pushed to their peak, told him that to seize the treasure, he had to disable the woman first.

She was one of the Goddesses of Calamity, with a divine body that was tough, but she was not a combat-oriented deity and couldn't withstand Shane's monstrous strength.

Crack, crack, crack.

Tens of thousands of tons of force were brutally applied, and her spine shattered under the unbearable strain.

The immense pain made the woman scream, and the protective magic on the golden apple, disrupted by her chaotic mind, could no longer hold.

In the next instant, Shane seized the golden apple as he wished, simultaneously snapping the woman's spine.

The cold metallic feel of the apple contrasted strangely with the warmth of its surface, and its seductive magic deepened the look in his eyes.

In the survival code of Viltrum, when you encountered something good, the most direct way was to take it. The life or death of the opponent was never a consideration.

The woman's body began to grow transparent, her disbelief turning into venomous resentment and unwillingness, before she finally dissolved into a wisp of black smoke and vanished into the air.

Shane stood there, holding the golden apple, his gaze shifting from confusion to clarity.

Looking down at the gleaming golden fruit in his hand, he scratched his head.

"What is this thing?"