Ben10: A Romantic Adventure with a Gender-Swapped Class

Upon hearing Kevin's direct question, Azmith slowly turned around.

A complex and indescribable emotion flickered in his deep eyes, as if the question had stirred up a long-buried memory.

He remained silent for a moment before replying in an almost sighing tone.

"It was a gift from me to him."

These four simple words stunned everyone present.

Before they could think it through, Azmith had already reached out and snapped his fingers crisply.

The surrounding scenery shattered and reformed in an instant, like broken glass!

A strong, pungent smell of smoke suddenly filled my nostrils, accompanied by the clanging of metal clashing violently, the desperate shouts of humans, and the shrill roars of some non-human creature!

The group was shocked to find themselves on a vast and desolate plain.

The sky was an unsettling blood red, as if ignited by endless war, with thick clouds pressing down low, blocking out even a sliver of sunlight.

Around them, tattered flags were stuck diagonally in the scorched earth, and the burning villages cast flickering firelight, making the shadows of the battle appear longer and shorter—a group of warriors in heavy medieval armor were fighting a bloody battle with a group of ferocious-looking creatures with dark green skin, wielding iron swords!

"Where are we?" Xiao Ban asked instinctively, stunned by the sudden bloody battlefield.

Upon hearing Ben's words, Azmis put his hands behind his back, his small body standing in front of such a grand disaster scene, appearing both out of place and perfectly in line with reality.

His voice was calm yet carried a heavy, penetrating power, clearly reaching everyone's ears: "While I was doing research, I unexpectedly discovered this pathetic, savage planet."

Upon hearing this description, which was full of symbolic praise, Xiaowen, who was well-read and knowledgeable, immediately realized what it meant. She asked uncertainly, "It's Earth, right?"

Hearing Xiaowen's answer, Azmis slowly nodded, admitting, "That's right." His gaze swept across the burning land, his tone unreadable, whether stating a fact or expressing self-reproach, "When I came here, Earth was in its darkest period of history."

"And I... added fuel to the fire."

“The Warcraft program crossed the quadrant worlds and came here,” he continued, as if reciting an ancient chronicle, “entering what you call the Middle Ages.”

As he spoke, everyone's gaze involuntarily followed him, turning to the fierce battle.

Flames leaped across the tattered armor and crude weapons as human warriors, relying on their courage and flesh and blood, struggled to hold off the green monsters that far surpassed them in strength and speed.

“His men had already come here to pave the way for him,” Azmith’s voice was like a cold narration, “and met with fierce resistance.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than, in the battle not far away, a warrior's helmet was violently knocked off by a powerful monster, revealing a face twisted with fear and despair.

Before he could react, the monster had already pinned him to the ground with its sharp claws, its thick feet pressing down on his back. Then, its two green tentacles, like venomous snakes, suddenly shot out and pierced the warrior's temples with precision and cruelty!

"But many people's minds have been controlled by the monsters," Azmith stated the cruel truth.

The samurai who had been pierced by the tentacle convulsed violently a few times, then his movements became stiff and bizarre.

He slowly stood up, like a marionette, his eyes now lifeless and hollow, emitting a faint green light.

His hands, as if devoid of soul, rose parallel to his shoulders, and with stiff steps, he walked toward his uncontrolled comrades who were still fighting desperately.

"The warriors have begun to kill each other, and only those with strong willpower can resist." Azmith's voice was devoid of emotion, yet it sent chills down one's spine.

"The one with the strongest willpower among them is Sir George."

As if to confirm his words, the scene suddenly focused on the other side of the battlefield!

Young George was covered in blood, his armor marked with sword cuts and monster claw marks, but his eyes were sharp as an eagle's, and his movements were still full of explosive power!

He was surrounded alone, but he showed no fear. He wielded the seemingly ordinary longsword with unparalleled skill. Seizing an opening, he swiftly and decisively cleaved two monsters that pounced on him in two!

However, bravery is not invincible.

Before he could catch his breath, a gigantic monster, far larger than any of its kind, silently attacked from the side, its thick tail lashing out like a steel whip!

A muffled thud!

George had no time to block; he was sent flying by the force and crashed heavily onto the scorched earth several meters away, his helmet rolling off his head.

He struggled to lift his head and spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva.

What came into view was a gigantic magical beast, larger than any other magical beast, with bulging muscles and exuding a terrifying aura, walking step by step towards him through burning flames!

With each step, the ground seemed to tremble slightly.

Despite the excruciating pain, George quickly rolled over and stood up, gripping his longsword and cautiously retreating, his eyes fixed on the approaching behemoth.

Immediately following, a life-or-death struggle with a vast disparity in strength unfolded!

With his amazing fighting skills and unwavering will, George narrowly escaped the giant beast's deadly pounces, claw attacks, and tail sweeps time and time again.

He was dancing on the edge of a knife, each dodge was executed with lightning speed!

Finally, he seized a fleeting opportunity, lunged forward, poured all his strength into the tip of his sword, and plunged it fiercely into the relatively vulnerable head of the giant beast!

The behemoth let out a deafening howl, and its massive body crashed to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

“He was brave and skilled in battle, but just when he was about to be defeated, I…” Azmith’s voice rang out again, drawing everyone’s attention back from the thrilling battle.

There was a hint of...remorse in his tone?

They intervened.

As Azmith spoke, young George in the scene finally reached his physical limit after killing the giant beast.

He could no longer hold on, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, barely supporting himself with his longsword. He gasped for breath, sweat and blood dripping from his forehead.

He was so exhausted that he didn't even notice that a strange figure, unlike any other creature he knew—the young Azmith—had silently appeared before him.

"You've worked hard," a strange voice said, calm and unmoving.

Upon hearing the sound, young George was startled and quickly lowered his head to listen!

When he realized that the person standing in front of him was a palm-sized, strangely shaped alien, he was so frightened that he almost jumped up. He quickly took two steps back to create distance, gripped his sword tightly again, and pointed it warily at Azmith, his voice hoarse from exhaustion and shock.

"A demon from the Devil's Pit?" He looked at it closely in disbelief. "A tiny demon?"

Seeing how wary young George was of him, young Azmith simply coughed a few times and began to explain, trying to sound harmless: "I am not a demon from the Devil's Pit." He paused, then added in a more precise way, "I am a visitor from the stars."

Hearing young Azmith's words, young George's vigilance did not diminish in the slightest.

He gripped his sword tightly, quoting an old proverb: "You can't judge a book by its cover." Clearly, he hadn't let his guard down because of his opponent's small size.

Hearing this, the young Azmith looked up, gazing at him thoughtfully, and suddenly said, "You know best that you are different from what you appear, don't you?" His words seemed to have a hidden meaning, directly touching on the other's core secret, "When were you born? Nine hundred Earth years ago?"

Upon hearing young Azmith reveal his greatest secret with unparalleled precision, young George's expression froze instantly, his face clearly showing shock and astonishment.

This secret should have been known only to him!

“How could you…” he blurted out, his voice filled with disbelief.

Before he could finish speaking, the young Azmis interrupted him, his tone carrying an unquestionable calmness: "It is my duty to be a prophet."

Hearing this almost mystical answer, young George seemed to realize that he wouldn't get anything out of it by asking further questions.

He decided to stop dwelling on the question and replied in a heavy tone, his words filled with the weariness and despair brought on by his long life: "Immortality is not a blessing, for I am about to witness the extinction of mankind." He looked at the horrific scene around him, his voice bitter, "We do not have enough weapons to defeat those monsters."

However, no sooner had he finished speaking than the young Azmis interjected, his tone calm yet seemingly containing a power to change everything: "Now we have it."

As soon as he finished speaking, the space around the young Azmith rippled slightly, and a sword—the intricately structured Azmith sword, flowing with the glow of energy—appeared out of thin air, silently hovering there, as if it had existed there since time immemorial.

“This sword is a weapon with terrifying power,” Azmith explained, his voice neither revealing pride nor warning. “Anyone qualified to wield it will be invincible.”

Upon hearing this mythical description, young George was shocked, but also felt a sense of doubt.

He looked at the tiny alien visitor and asked a crucial question: "If he really is invincible, why don't you use it yourself?"

“Because I am not qualified,” the young Azmith shook his head, admitting frankly without the slightest reluctance in his tone.

Upon hearing this answer, young George fell silent.

He looked at the divine sword before him, which exuded endless allure, and then at the surrounding smoke of war and the tragic state of humanity on the verge of extinction.

At that moment, he truly had no other choice.

Without asking any more questions, he took a deep breath, reached out, and firmly grasped the hilt of the divine sword!

The instant he raised the divine sword high above his head—

hum!

The divine sword instantly emitted an indescribable, dazzling light!

The light was so intense that it temporarily overshadowed the blood-red sky and the firelight on the ground!

As the light gradually faded, young George was completely transformed!

A magnificent set of white medieval armor, with flowing lines and shimmering with a holy glow, covered his entire body!

The patterns on the armor subtly echoed the energy flow of the divine sword.

His previous look of exhaustion from the battle vanished, replaced by a majestic aura that combined immense power with unwavering will!

At this moment, he truly resembled a paladin who had stepped out of an epic.

“Listen carefully,” the young Azmith’s voice pulled him back to reality from the shock of gaining power, his tone becoming extremely serious, “the battles you are fighting now are far less terrifying than those of their masters.”

He has already enslaved a hundred quadrant worlds.

"Now they're trying to enslave Earth."

"If he gains a foothold here, the entire universe will collapse." The weight of this statement is enough to crush anyone's nerves.

Finally, he gave the final order, his voice resolute: "When Big Steel arrives, you must destroy him!"

Listening to the young Azmis's extremely heavy words and feeling the powerful force emanating from the divine sword in his hand, the young George seemed to be deep in thought.