Awakening My Sovereign Authority

Chapter 7

The morning after Julian crashed the live television broadcast, he thought the world would be on his side. He thought the truth would set him free. He was completely wrong. 

Julian stood in the bright, clean courtyard of the Heavenfall Guardian Academy. This was the place where young fighters went to join official Guilds. Julian stood perfectly straight, wearing a cheap but clean black jacket. In his hand, he held a wooden sign that read: “NEW GUILD RECRUITING. ALL CLASSES WELCOME.”

A group of heavily armored students walked past him. They pointed at him and burst out laughing. 

"Look, it's the crazy guy from the TV!" one of the students, a tall boy with a fire staff, sneered. "Hey, Julian! Are you going to heal us to death?"

Julian did not say a word. He just watched them walk away. 

Overnight, the Golden Sands Guild had used their massive wealth to completely change the story. They told the newspapers that Julian was a traumatized, broken boy who had lost his mind during the boss fight. They claimed he ran away in fear, leaving Dominic to do all the work. They even paid doctors to go on television and say Julian was "unstable and dangerous." 

Worse than the lies was the blacklist. Dominic had officially blocked Julian from recruiting at any major academy. Whenever Julian tried to speak to a strong swordsman or a clever mage, their Guild apps would beep, warning them that talking to Julian would ruin their careers. 

Society did not care about the truth. Society cared about money, fame, and perfect smiles. And they all believed that a Support class could never, ever lead a team. 

"You are wasting your time here," a security guard told Julian, crossing his arms. "No one is going to join a weak little sponge. Go home, kid."

Julian lowered his wooden sign. He looked at the bright, shiny towers of the inner city. 

“Fine,” Julian thought, his eyes glowing with a faint, angry gold light. “If the perfect, shiny fighters won't join me... I will find the broken ones.” 

Julian threw his wooden sign into a trash can and walked toward the train station. He was leaving the bright lights of the inner city. He was going to the bottom of the world. He was going to Blackbone City. 

The sky-train traveled deep below the floating islands, down into the permanent shadows of the lower slums. When the train doors opened, a terrible smell hit Julian’s nose. It smelled like cheap alcohol, burning trash, and old blood. 

Blackbone City was not built with bricks or steel. Long ago, a colossal ancient beast had died here. The people had carved their homes, bars, and shops directly into the giant, black bones of the monster’s ribcage. The air was thick with green and purple smog. There were no guards here. There were no rules. 

People with deep scars, missing eyes, and dangerous weapons watched Julian as he walked down the dirty streets. 

Julian pulled his jacket tight. He asked a man selling roasted rat meat where he could find fighters who didn't care about Guild rules. The man gave a nasty smile with rotten teeth and pointed a dirty finger toward a massive underground dome. 

"The Blood Pit," the man laughed. "But a soft little inner-city boy like you won't last five minutes in there."

Julian tossed the man a silver coin and walked toward the dome. 

The Blood Pit was an illegal, underground fighting arena. Here, the outcasts, the criminals, and the cursed came to fight for money. When Julian walked inside, the noise was deafening. Thousands of angry, drunk people were screaming from the stands. The air was hot and sweaty. 

Julian found an empty spot near the front row. He looked through a thick, magical glass barrier that protected the audience from the fighting pit below. 

Down in the dirt, the sand was stained dark red from years of death. 

A fat man in a purple suit stood in the center of the ring, holding a magical glowing microphone. He was the Arena Master. 

"Listen up, you bloodthirsty dogs!" the Arena Master shouted, his voice echoing through the giant room. "For our next match, we have a very special execution! I mean... a very special fight!"

The crowd cheered loudly, stomping their feet. 

"She is a monster!" the Arena Master yelled. "She is a cursed mistake! Give it up for the Cursed Valkyrie, Aria Price!"

A heavy iron gate slowly opened. The crowd immediately started booing and throwing garbage at the gate. 

A girl walked out into the dirt. She looked to be about Julian's age, maybe nineteen. She had bright, fiery red hair that was chopped short and messy. She wore broken, rusted armor that was way too big for her. In her hand, she held a heavy, dull broadsword. Her face was covered in dirt and old bruises, but her eyes were sharp, fierce, and full of pure hatred. 

Julian leaned forward, staring at her. “Valkyrie,” he thought. “That is a legendary offensive class. Why is a legendary class fighting in a dirty slum?”

Suddenly, another smaller gate opened. Five people were pushed out into the dirt. They were not fighters. They wore dirty rags, and they were crying. They looked like slaves or prisoners who owed the Arena Master money. 

A bright green, glowing magical chain shot out from each of the five slaves. The chains connected directly to Aria’s back. 

"What is that?" Julian whispered to himself.