The Imperial Arena was packed with people. Every single white marble seat was filled. Millions of citizens sat shoulder to shoulder under the bright, hot morning sun. But it was not a happy crowd. There was no cheering. There was no laughing. Nobody was eating sweet fruit or drinking expensive wine. The people were completely, absolutely silent. They sat frozen in their seats, shivering with pure terror. The Emperor’s heavily armored guards had gone through the city streets that morning. They had forced the people out of their homes with sharp spears. They forced the citizens to march back into the stadium. The Emperor wanted the entire world to watch. He wanted millions of witnesses to see the dirty beggar die. Down in the center of the colossal stadium, the white sand was completely gone. The fierce battles from yesterday had melted the sand into a giant crater of smooth, black glass. Standing in the exact center of the black glass was Crown Prince Julian Saint-Aurelius. But

The shape of the jaw. The proud, straight nose. The broad, towering shoulders. It was an exact, perfect mirror image of the Emperor’s own father, the previous ruler of the Empire. But the dark, fiery eyes... those eyes belonged to Lady Aris, the quiet woman from the Cloud-Soaring Sect. "It cannot be," the Emperor gasped softly, gripping his golden crown. His face turned paper-white. "He died. I threw him into the freezing mist. The grave-rats ate his flesh ten years ago. It is impossible.""He survived," the Patriarch whispered, absolute horror filling his old voice. "The Null-Vein baby survived the graveyard. The true heir has returned to kill us all."The Emperor felt his stomach drop. His worst, darkest nightmare was standing in the center of his own arena. The boy he threw away had crawled out of hell, and he was completely unstoppable. Down on the black glass floor, Lucien stopped walking. He stood exactly one hundred feet away from Julian. Julian’s psychotic, fiery golden ey

"Are you scared now, beggar?!" Julian mocked, taking a heavy step forward. "Are you going to cry? Beg me for mercy! Fall on your knees and kiss my boots, and I promise I will cut your head off quickly!"Lucien stood perfectly still. He did not grab his bleeding shoulder. He did not try to heal the cut. He simply let the small line of blood slowly drip down his arm. He looked at Julian. He looked at the crazy, jumping, drooling monster that used to be a handsome prince. Until this very moment, Lucien had treated the fights on the surface world like a game. He had used cheap iron swords. He had slapped people. He had fought lazy, arrogant bullies who did not know true pain. He had held back 99 percent of his power because the surface world was too fragile to handle the true dark. But Julian was not a lazy bully anymore. Julian had broken the rules. Julian had drank a forbidden poison. Julian was holding a Demigod-tier weapon that could actually, physically hurt Lucien’s evolved body.

When the golden flames hit the dark shadow, they hissed, sputtered, and completely died. The heat was swallowed by the absolute freezing cold of the graveyard. Lucien stood inside his dark domain. The golden light could not touch him. He looked at his cousin. He lowered his God-Slaying Spear slightly, leaving his chest open. "Is this the power of the Crown Prince?" Lucien asked. His voice was calm, deep, and echoing. It carried easily over the loud noise of the battle. Julian stopped swinging for a second. He breathed heavily. Golden saliva dripped from his mouth. "I... I am a god!" Julian choked out. Lucien smiled his lazy, crooked smile. "You fight like a panicked child swinging a heavy stick in the dark," Lucien mocked loudly. Lucien pointed the tip of his black spear at Julian’s feet. "Your stance is completely wrong," Lucien criticized, acting like a disappointed teacher. "Your left foot is turned inward. You have no balance. If the wind blew hard enough, you would fall o

The spear felt the blood flowing in Lucien’s veins. It felt the pure, original, absolute royal bloodline of the true Saint-Aurelius kings. It felt the deep, terrifying, overwhelming power of the Heir of Aris. More importantly, the spear felt the heavy, suffocating, god-killing aura of the pitch-black weapon resting in Lucien’s right hand. The God-Slaying Spear radiated a dark, murderous intent that terrified the golden weapon. The Spear of the Dawn-Bringer realized it was being held by a fake, mutated, poisoned clown, and it was being forced to attack the true, rightful King of the world. The giant golden plasma blade began to shudder. It shook violently in the air. The bright, blinding light began to flicker and dim.The sound the spear made was no longer a furious, angry screech. It sounded exactly like a scared, confused, beaten animal whining for mercy. The golden flames pulled backward, shrinking away from Lucien’s chest. The spear was actively trying to retreat. It did not w