The arena was frozen in time. Danial’s heart hammered like a war drum, yet his body refused to obey him. His stance remained locked, his swords trembling faintly in his grip. He couldn’t let go—not because of will, but because of fear.Kyle didn’t so much as glance at the referee. Instead, he simply jumped down from the stage, his boots clicking softly against the stone floor. His pace was unhurried, almost casual, as he made his way toward the exit.Silence followed him like a shadow.The crowd, once a roaring beast, was now a muted void. The only sound that existed was the slow, rhythmic breathing of the Gods of War in the VIP chambers. That alone was enough to make the air heavy, suffocating.Kyle reached the edge of the arena. Before stepping into the darkness of the exit tunnel, he stopped. His head turned just enough for his crimson gaze to settle back on Danial.Danial’s chest tightened.And then, in a voice that was clear enough for every person in the coliseum to hear, yet so
The arena was still ringing from the gasps of disbelief after Kyle’s sudden arrival, yet silence fell again as he stood face-to-face with Danial.Crystal’s face paled, her breath caught in her throat as if her chest had turned to stone. She had expected many things from this day—fierce matches, blood, glory—but not Kyle singling out Danial with such deliberate intent.Pavan, on the other hand, looked as if his soul had left his body. His jaw hung so low it almost touched the polished stone floor. “W-what the hell was that?” he muttered under his breath, unable to tear his eyes away.Elysia’s reaction was different. Her posture remained regal and unshaken, but her narrowed eyes told another story. They glimmered with recognition, calculation… and perhaps, the faintest hint of unease.From the VIP rooms high above, nobles and sovereigns leaned forward. The relaxed air that once filled the chambers shifted into something taut with interest. Conversations hushed, and all eyes zeroed in
The sun rose slowly over Somerland, its golden rays stretching across the horizon, casting brilliance over Phoenix Academy. Yet even before the first light touched the academy’s great spires, preparations were already underway. Servants rushed through the halls carrying silks and banners, warriors patrolled the grounds, and officials barked orders with voices hoarse from long nights without rest. This was no ordinary day—it was the last day of the Tournament of Sovereign Might, the day that Somerland would reveal its brilliance to the world.The air was charged, heavy with excitement and tension. Carriages of gleaming gold and steel rattled through the gates, bearing dignitaries from across the continent. The biggest businessmen, royal envoys, and masters of martial sects arrived dressed in extravagant robes and tailored suits, their every step watched by countless guards. The grandstands swelled with nobles and commoners alike, buzzing like a restless hive. For the first time in year
Seth scoffed and rolled his eyes with disdain.“Tsk… I did not know that little bastard would make such noise.” His tone dripped with irritation, though beneath it lingered something disturbingly playful.“I had gone out into the Capital with nothing more than an intention to find a guinea pig… a body to break, a soul to carve into. I had just finished weaving a new curse, one unlike anything I’ve crafted before. Subtle, invasive, designed to twist the very foundation of a cultivator’s energy. All I needed was the right vessel. Then…” Seth’s eyes gleamed as he leaned back, recalling the moment. “I learned of the grand tournament at Phoenix Academy. Thousands gathered, young talents shining like moths before the flame. I thought to myself—what better place to find a pig to slaughter, or in this case… test?”His smile widened, cruel and mocking. “I killed that fool protector of the Emsgate Representatives and slipped inside without a trace and wore my way into the academy like a wolf a
Seth’s lips curved into a faint, chilling smile. “It seems you haven’t changed,” he said, his voice smooth but dripping with disdain. “Still carrying that… passion of yours everywhere you go.”Auron chuckled low in his throat and slapped the maid’s rear hard enough to make her yelp. She stumbled forward, rubbing the sting away as her cheeks flushed with a mix of pain and shame. Auron didn’t even glance at her—his eyes were locked on Seth.With deliberate steps, the Lustful King approached, closing the space between them. He placed a hand on Seth’s shoulder with mock familiarity, a sarcastic smile tugging at his lips. “And it seems you have not changed as well,” he said.Seth’s eyes narrowed. With a flick of his arm, he brushed the hand away like it was filth, his expression twisting into irritation. “Stop with your useless remarks,” Seth said, his tone carrying a cutting edge. “And tell me why you summoned me. I was busy… torturing a young boy. I was moments away from breaking him
Somewhere deep in the frozen mountains of Emsgate, nestled amidst cliffs that pierced the clouds, stood the King’s Citadel — a sprawling fortress of ancient stone and crimson banners. The architecture was a blend of grandeur and menace: jagged spires stretched like claws toward the sky, while golden-tipped towers gleamed in the sun, mocking the kingdom’s poverty below. Inside, the marble floors were polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting crystal chandeliers and statues of long-dead kings who had once ruled with wisdom… not indulgence.But wisdom was no longer seated on the throne of Emsgate.Inside the royal palace — behind velvet curtains, beneath golden ceilings, and amidst intoxicating perfumes — lay the King’s private chambers, soaked in luxury and vice.The large, circular bed dominated the room, its silk sheets crumpled and stained from hours of activity. Five women lay strewn across it, their bodies glistening with sweat. Some were petite, others voluptuous, all exhausted from t