Lucien’s blood was actually purer, older, and vastly more powerful than Julian’s heavily diluted, poisoned lineage. Lucien carried the raw, uncorrupted genetic code of the ancient kings. The sentient weapon smelled that blood. The Spear of the Dawn-Bringer looked at Julian, and it smelled a fake, mutated, corrupted clown. Then, the spear looked at Lucien. It smelled the heavy, ancient, perfect blood of a true, absolute Sovereign. It smelled its true master. The weapon was not stopping because it was afraid of Lucien’s dark magic. The weapon was stopping because it physically, magically refused to murder its rightful King. "You really do not understand, do you, Julian?" Lucien whispered. His deep, layered voice cut through the loud buzzing of the plasma blade. Julian stopped pushing for a second. He was breathing incredibly fast. Golden sweat poured down his face. "Understand what?!" Julian yelled, his eyes burning with mindless panic. "It is broken! The weapon is broken!""The

Julian lay flat on his back. The bright, burning golden fire in his empty eye sockets flickered, and then went completely dark. The thick, glowing golden veins under his skin stopped pulsing. His skin turned a pale, sickly grey color. The forbidden potion, the Tears of the Seraph, had burned away all his life-force. And the brutal, heavy strike to his head had knocked him into a deep, permanent coma. Crown Prince Julian was defeated. He was not dead, but his mind was shattered, and his magic was ruined forever. He would spend the rest of his life as a quiet, broken shell. Lucien stood in the center of the arena. He held the pitch-black iron sword in his right hand. He held the blazing golden Demigod spear in his left hand. He looked at the unconscious body of his cousin. Lucien felt a strange sense of peace. The boy who had bullied him was gone. The monster who had tortured his friends was broken. The revenge for his past was finished. But the war for the future was still waiting

The silver-grey shockwave crashed into the red fire. It did not just block the attack. The silver magic completely overrode the cannons' spells. It swallowed the red fire, froze the iron cannons solid, and then shattered the metal tubes into harmless grey dust. The shockwave did not stop there. It hit the massive, unbreakable white marble walls of the arena. The sound was so loud it deafened the entire city for a full minute. The indestructible walls of the Imperial Arena—the walls built by the First Emperor to last a thousand years—were completely, instantly blown apart. Giant chunks of white marble the size of houses flew outward, crashing into the empty streets outside the stadium. The heavy iron gates were ripped off their hinges and thrown for miles. The entire roof of the stadium was vaporized. The millions of people inside the arena were completely unharmed. The silver magic had carefully bypassed living flesh, only targeting the weapons and the walls that trapped them.

High above the white sand, the giant, glowing blue magical screens floating in the sky broadcasted the fight to the entire stadium. The magical cameras zoomed in closely on the center of the arena. They captured every single detail of Lucien’s face. They broadcasted the sharp jawline, the dark hair, and the brilliant silver eyes to millions of people. Up in the luxurious, floating Golden Royal Box, the Emperor of the Sun was standing near the edge of the balcony. He held a beautiful crystal glass filled with expensive, dark red wine. He was watching the giant blue screen. He wanted to see the dirty beggar die. But when the beggar’s mud dried up... when the grey hair turned dark... when the dull eyes turned piercing silver... The Emperor stopped breathing. His heart skipped a terrible, heavy beat. The blood in his veins turned to freezing ice. The Emperor stared at the giant blue screen. He looked at the face of the man holding the golden spear. It was not a random rogue. It was

Julian looked up. His golden eyes were filled with pure, mindless terror. He raised his hands, trying to protect his face. "Please! Lucien! We are brothers! Do not kill me!""Brothers?" Lucien asked softly. He tilted his head. "A brother does not lock his family in a dark cage."Lucien did not use the golden spear to stab Julian. He did not use his pitch-black iron sword. Julian was not worthy of a warrior's death. Julian was a bully, and bullies needed to be treated like dirt. Lucien raised his heavy, dark iron boot. He pushed a small, concentrated burst of pure physical force into his leg. "Goodbye, Julian," Lucien whispered. Lucien kicked his heavy iron boot forward. He did not kick Julian lightly. He kicked him with the brutal, unstoppable force of a speeding train. Lucien’s heavy boot smashed directly into the center of Julian’s mutated, dragon-scale chest plate. The expensive golden armor shattered into a million tiny pieces of useless metal. The sheer kinetic shockwave pas