2026-09-22 17:31:48
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Chapter 317
The black glass floor of the Imperial Arena smoked in the hot afternoon air. Patriarch Valerius stood tall. He was a giant of a man, even without a magical transformation. He wore heavy, thick golden armor that shined so brightly it hurt to look at it. His long white beard blew in the hot wind. In his massive hands, he held the Emperor’s Guillotine. It was a giant, two-handed battleaxe. The long handle was made of solid white steel.The double-blades of the axe were not made of metal. They were made of pure, spinning, burning holy light.The axe hummed with a terrible, buzzing sound. It sounded like a hungry saw ready to cut through bone. Valerius was over two hundred years old. He was the oldest, strongest, most experienced killer in the entire Saint-Aurelius Clan. He had spent two centuries hoarding magic, drinking rare elixirs, and meditating in holy temples. He looked down at Lucien. Lucien stood in his terrifying [Abyssal Armor State]. The pitch-black, jagged crystals cover
Chapter 316
Lucien’s aura was an impenetrable, perfect balance of light and dark. It swallowed the Patriarch’s pressure effortlessly. "You..." Valerius whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "You resist a Peak Sovereign. How is this possible? You are just a child playing with dark toys!"Lucien took a slow, heavy step forward. His iron boot crushed the stone. "You call them dark toys," Lucien sneered. "But your whole clan is built on lies. You sent my mother into a cage. You banished me into a grave. You let your own Emperor become a crying coward on a balcony. Your clan is a rotting corpse, Valerius. I am just the fire that came to burn it clean."Valerius stared at Lucien’s eyes. The old Patriarch looked at the pitch-black eye, and then he looked at the brilliant golden eye. Suddenly, Valerius realized exactly who he was looking at. The Emperor was not the only one who recognized the face. "You are Lady Aris's boy," Valerius whispered. His golden eyes grew wide with understanding. "You are
Chapter 315
Lucien lowered his arms. The thick dust cloud slowly blew away in the hot wind. Patriarch Valerius stood in the center of the new, deeper crater. The old man was completely unharmed. His heavy golden armor shined perfectly in the sunlight. His long white beard blew around his face. His golden eyes were hard, cruel, and completely merciless. He stood directly in front of the pathetic, burned body of Julian. He was shielding his grandson from Lucien’s blade. "You have gone far enough, boy," Patriarch Valerius said. His voice was not a roar anymore. It was a low, dangerous, heavy rumble. As Valerius spoke, he fully unleashed his Peak Sovereign aura. He did not cast a fireball. He did not swing a sword. He simply let the absolute, terrifying weight of his magical soul press down onto the physical world. It was a pseudo-divine pressure. It was the weight of a man who was almost a god. The gravity inside the arena instantly multiplied by a hundred. The air turned incredibly thick. I
Chapter 314
Patriarch Valerius of the Saint-Aurelius Clan stood near the broken golden railing. Valerius was Julian’s grandfather. He was the oldest, most experienced leader in the entire Empire. He wore incredibly thick, heavy golden armor covered in ancient, powerful runes. His white beard flowed down his chest. Valerius looked down at the crying Emperor on the floor. A look of pure, absolute disgust crossed the Patriarch’s wrinkled face. "You are pathetic," Patriarch Valerius hissed at the Emperor. "You call yourself a ruler? You cry on the floor while our enemy holds a sword to the neck of our future?"The Emperor just kept sobbing, hiding his face in his hands. Patriarch Valerius turned his back on the crying Emperor. He walked up to the edge of the balcony. He looked down through the remaining pieces of thick, magical glass that protected the Royal Box from the arena. He saw Lucien raising the black sword over Julian’s neck. “If Julian dies today, the bloodline is broken,” the Patri
Chapter 313
The bright, blinding explosion of white light slowly faded. The sky above the Imperial Arena was quiet again. The millions of people sitting in the high marble seats held their breath. They watched the golden snow fall gently to the ground. The giant, terrifying Light-Demon was gone. The monster had been cleaved perfectly in half by Lucien’s sword. But as the bright light vanished, something heavy fell out of the sky. It hit the hot, melted black glass of the arena floor. It sounded like a heavy sack of wet meat dropping into the dirt. Lucien stood in the center of his dark, swirling Abyssal Domain. He wore his magnificent pitch-black crystalline armor. The glowing golden circuitry pulsed beautifully across his chest and arms. He slowly lowered his sword and looked down at the ground. Lying on the black glass was Crown Prince Julian Saint-Aurelius. But Julian did not look like a prince anymore. He did not even look like a monster. The Light-Demon had just been a magical shell.
Chapter 312
Lucien looked up at the hovering Light-Demon. "It is time to rest, little brother," Lucien said softly. Lucien bent his knees slightly. He activated the ultimate movement art. Lucien did not jump. He simply vanished from the ground, leaving a tiny cloud of white mist behind him. He bypassed physical space entirely. He moved through the fabric of the universe in a fraction of a millisecond. He appeared instantly in the sky, floating directly above the ten-foot-tall Light-Demon. The creature looked up, its dozens of eyes widening in pure terror. It raised its massive, sharp light-wings to defend itself. Lucien hung in the air above the monster. He raised his black and gold iron sword high above his head with both hands. His dual-colored eyes—one pitch-black, one brilliant gold—burned with absolute, final judgment. "You stole my throne," Lucien declared. His deep, layered voice boomed like thunder across the entire capital city, demanding the attention of every single living soul
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