The Apex Awakening

Chapter 21: The Central Plaza

​The Central Plaza of the Sky Citadel was a grand, open-air amphitheater paved in polished white marble and flanked by towering, gilded pillars that caught the high-altitude sunlight.

​High above the arena floor sat the representatives of the Four Founding Families, draped in elaborate silk and mana-embroidered robes. Below them, dozens of prospective academy students—heirs to high-ranking guilds, wealthy enclaves, and prominent political dynasties—stood in clustered, aristocratic groups. They spoke in hushed, polished tones, their enchanted armor and silver-trimmed weapons gleaming under the clear sky.

​A massive, floating projection screen suspended over the center of the plaza displayed the results of the Iron Threshold.

​At the very top, flashing in brilliant, unyielding crimson letters, was a single name:

​[1ST PLACE: LEO — TIME: 42 MINUTES, 18 SECONDS (GATE OVERFLOW)]

​Beneath it, far lower down the list, sat the names of the noble candidates:

​[2ND PLACE: LADY CHEN (BANDAGE-WEAVER) — TIME: 06 MINUTES, 12 SECONDS]

[3RD PLACE: JULIAN OF HOUSE VALERIUS — TIME: 05 MINUTES, 48 SECONDS]

​An uncomfortable, stifling tension hung over the crowd.

​"Forty-two minutes?" a young nobleman from the Northern Enclave whispered, leaning toward his companion. "That has to be an error in the recording array. Not even an S-Rank Vanguard tank could hold their ground under twenty-times gravity for more than fifteen minutes."

​"It's no error," another muttered, glancing nervously toward the western archway. "Look at the Valerius box. Julian was carried out on a stretcher, and his father looks like he's about to execute the proctors."

​In the high-tier viewing box reserved for the House of Valerius, Duke Valerius—a stern, grey-haired man clad in dark blue magistrate robes—sat with his gloved hands resting heavily on the pommel of his jeweled cane. His face was a mask of cold, murderous rage as he stared down at the empty center of the arena. Beside him, two B-Rank family enforcers stood at rigid attention, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.

​TAP. TAP. TAP.

​The rhythmic crunch of heavy boots against marble echoed through the western archway.

​The conversations across the plaza died down instantly. Every eye in the amphitheater turned toward the entrance.

​Leo walked out into the blinding sunlight.

​He wore his heavy, dark tactical coat draped loosely over his broad shoulders, leaving his chest and arms unencumbered. His bare forearms glinted with a dark, metallic sheen where his Void Armor lay retracted beneath his skin, and his C-Rank gauntlets hummed with a low, barely audible vibration. He walked with a slow, relaxed stride, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets, entirely unbothered by the stares of a hundred elite hunters.

​Behind him walked Victoria Vance, her hands folded neatly inside the long sleeves of her white director's coat, her sharp blue eyes scanning the high-tier boxes.

​"That's him?" a female candidate murmured, her eyes widening as she took in Leo's plain attire and lack of a visible mana signature. "He doesn't have an aura... He registers as completely empty!"

​"He's a commoner from Sector 7," a voice sneered from the front row.

​Stepping out from the crowd was a young man clad in shimmering, crystalline armor that crackled with blue lightning. He carried a heavy, two-handed halberd, and his posture radiated supreme confidence.

​[Target Identified: Hector of House Caelus (A-Rank Lightning Dragoon)]

[Estimated Threat Assessment: Moderate]

​Hector stopped ten feet in front of Leo, blocking the path toward the central podium. He looked down his nose at Leo, a cold, arrogant smile playing across his lips.

​"So you're the rat who cheated the Threshold array," Hector said, his voice echoing across the quiet plaza. "I don't know what kind of black-market artifact you used to fool the gate's sensors, squatter, but the Sky Citadel isn't Sector 7. You don't belong on this marble, and you certainly don't belong above House Valerius."

​Leo didn't stop walking. He didn't even look Hector in the eye.

​"You're in my way," Leo said flatly.

​Hector’s smile vanished, replaced by an instant surge of dark fury. "You arrogant filth!"

​CRACKLE!

​Blue lightning erupted from Hector’s halberd as he brought the heavy weapon down in a blinding, high-speed strike aimed directly at Leo’s left shoulder. The raw speed of an A-Rank Dragoon strike split the air with a deafening crack of thunder, intended to force the commoner onto his knees in front of the entire assembly.

​Leo didn't draw a weapon. He didn't even take his left hand out of his coat pocket.

​He simply raised his right hand, his void-forged gauntlet extending in a fraction of a second, and caught the white-hot, lightning-infused steel blade of the halberd with his bare fingers.

​CLANG!

​The lightning exploded in a massive wave of blue sparks, tearing through the air and scorching the marble floor around their feet. But the heavy, two-handed halberd came to a complete, sudden halt in Leo's grip—as if it had struck an immovable mountain.

​The laughter and murmurs in the crowd cut off instantly.

​Hector’s eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock. He pulled on the handle with all his strength, his veins bulging against his neck, but the halberd didn't budge an inch. Leo’s grip was absolute.

​"Is this the best the Founding Families have to offer?" Leo asked quietly, looking at Hector for the first time.

​Leo flexed his fingers.

​[Impact Resonance!]

​CRACK-SHATTER!

​A localized shockwave tore through the halberd. The A-Rank enchanted weapon shattered into hundreds of metallic splinters that rained down onto the marble floor.

​Before Hector could even process the destruction of his weapon, Leo stepped inside his guard, slammed his palm into Hector's chest armor, and unleashed a fraction of his 200 Strength.

​BOOM!

​The heavy crystalline armor caved inward, and Hector was launched backward across the plaza like a cannonball. He tumbled over fifty yards of marble before slamming violently into the base of the high magistrate's box, slumping into an unconscious, bleeding heap.

​Silence fell over the entire Central Plaza.

​The candidates backed away in absolute horror, creating a wide, hundred-foot circle around the cloaked monster who had just annihilated an A-Rank Dragoon with a single casual palm strike.

​High up in the magistrate box, Duke Valerius slowly stood up from his chair, his grip tightening on his jeweled cane until the wood groaned under the pressure.

​Leo stood in the center of the arena, wiping a speck of dust from his dark coat. He looked up toward the high boxes, his Crimson pupils burning like dying stars beneath the shadow of his hood as he locked eyes with the High Magistrates.

​"Next," Leo said, his voice carrying clearly across the silent amphitheater.