The next morning, at exactly 9 a.m., the main hall of House Sable’s estate was filled with direct descendants of the clan.
At the center was Benedric Sable—the current patriarch and Calista’s father.
Everyone present instinctively lowered their heads in deference.
Calista stood beside him, red-eyed and pale. Lucien Cross stood next to her.
Last night, Calista had returned home radiant, proudly announcing that the engagement with Ronan Crowne was officially over.
She’d expected praise, but instead, Benedric’s face turned black.
Without a word, he struck his daughter across the face.
Now, as he glanced at her tear-streaked face and then at Lucien, Benedric’s scowl deepened.
“Who told you to act on your own?” he growled.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
Benedric’s head throbbed.
No one understood better than he did just how fragile House Sable’s current situation was.
Yet now, his daughter had forced Ronan Crowne to end the engagement.
She had practically made an enemy of House Crowne, at the worst possible time!
Seeing how furious her father was, Calista, still holding her cheek, bit back her tears.
“Why are you so afraid of him?” she snapped quietly.
“He’s just a spoiled second-generation heir, living off his family name. I’ve never liked him. I never wanted to marry him in the first place.”
In Calista’s mind, Ronan was no match for Lucien…
Lucien may have come from an ordinary family, but he had worked hard to earn his place at the Martial Academy.
His cultivation was solid.
And more importantly, Lucien treated her with respect and consideration.
She felt safe with him, not disgusted like she did with Ronan.
Calista stepped closer to her father and clutched his sleeve.
“Father, aren’t you a peak-stage Rank 7 Grandmaster? You’re already on the verge of breaking through to Gold Master, so why should we grovel before the Crownes?”
“When Grandfather was alive, House Sable was already one of the top names in Thalara. But now? Everyone whispers that we only have status because of the Crownes. How unfair!”
“I know you can bring our family back to glory, without relying on them. Right?”
In Calista Sable’s mind, House Crowne was just another so-called “first-class” family—nothing more than a noble house with an Elder Archmaster at Rank 9. They weren’t much stronger than the Sables.
What she didn’t know, and what no one in her family was aware of, was that House Crowne was far more powerful than it appeared. Behind them stood Martial Saints.
And for the Sables, whose strongest member was only a peak-stage Grandmaster Rank 7, there was simply no access to that level of information.
As far as they believed, once Benedric broke through to Rank 8, even Rank 9 cultivators would have to respect him. They truly thought they could cut ties with House Crowne and stand tall on their own.
For a moment, Benedric’s expression softened.
She’s right, he thought.
“Fine. You’ve made some good points, Calista.”
“When Ronan arrives to dissolve the engagement, I’ll teach him a lesson,” Benedric said with a sneer. “He thinks he’s doing us a favor by walking away? He’ll learn today who’s really superior.”
Lately, he had begun to sense the faint signs of breakthrough, he was nearing Rank 8 Gold Master.
Just a bit more time, and he would cross that threshold.
And when that happened, House Sable would be a real first tier—a lion in its own right.
They would stand shoulder to shoulder with the Crownes, as equals—not a lamb probbed up by the latter!
Calista wrapped her arms around her father’s and said playfully, “Father, you’re the best.”
Lucien Cross, standing beside her, smiled faintly.
A rising House Sable meant better prospects for him too.
His relationship with them had grown close, and Benedric treated him well.
Benedric stroked Calista’s hair and promised, “So be it. Let the engagement end. It’s Ronan’s loss. Since he didn’t know how to cherish you and dared to humiliate you, I’ll make him apologize.”
As father and daughter spoke, a voice rang out from just outside the hall.
“Oh? And how exactly do you plan to make me apologize?”
Calista and Lucien’s cheerful expressions disappeared at once.
All eyes turned to the entrance of the hall.
Ronan Crowne stepped inside.
He wore a simple outfit, yet he carried himself with total confidence.
Ronan asked, “Have you prepared everything that needs to be returned to House Crowne?”
Benedric Sable’s face darkened.
“I’ll allow the annulment,” he said.
“But before we proceed, you owe my daughter an apology for the public humiliation you caused her yesterday. If you refuse, I’ll personally visit House Crowne and ask how they’ve raised such a disrespectful heir.”
The entire hall fell silent. Eyes darted between Ronan and Benedric.
Then, slowly, a smirk curled on Ronan’s lips.
“An apology?” Ronan repeated, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “From you, Benedric Sable?”
Everyone in the room gasped. No one expected that Ronan would be this bold toward a Grandmaster like Benedric Sable.
Latest Chapter
The Isolated Variable
“We know that we cannot accuse you without evidence. But, there’s something else,” he said.He exhaled and continue, “Ronan Crowne, your contribution in defending the camp is undeniable… but so are the anomalies surrounding your presence.”Ronan met his gaze levelly.“What anomalies?”Another officer tapped the hologram and a spectral energy graph lit up — the same silver-gold wavelength the Ministry had been analyzing.“Wherever strong beasts appear — this energy shows up too,” Harrel said. “It attracts them. Rank 7s, rank 8s… and always in the direction of your aura.”Ronan’s brows tightened, but only barely.“You’re suggesting I’m baiting beasts?”Some of the officers stiffened — because yes, they were.Harrel didn’t deny it.“Whether intentional or accidental, your presence is drawing them. And we can’t risk further casualties.”Ronan’s voice held steady.“I don’t know what these signatures are. I haven’t done anything to lure beasts. I’ve only fought them.”Harrel studied him, me
Forging Signature
The night was deeper now over the Thandor wilderness, and the world outside the shelters had turned deathly still. The earlier attack had drained nerves and rattled spirits, leaving most students huddled in silence. The air smelled faintly of scorched soil and dissipated beast-essence. Even those who had slept—did so with half-open eyes and trembling breath. It would be a long night.But far from the blood-soaked camp, in the Ministry of Education in Thalara city, another kind of battle was underway—a battle of information, evidence, and truth.Minister Dorrian Blackthorne stood inside the Strategic Analysis Room — a chamber filled with floating holo-projections, psionic wave maps, and multi-layered tactical overlays that shifted by command of thought rather than hand. The room hummed with quiet neural resonance — like a temple of minds rather than machines.Around him were high-ranking military analysts, senior educators, and two psionic resonance experts whose faces were drawn with
The Second Threat
The announcement came through the shelter intercom—clear, official, almost unreal.“ATTENTION STUDENTS. THE EXAMINATION IS NOW FORMALLY CONCLUDED.YOU WILL BE EVACUATED FROM THE AREA IN APPROXIMATELY SIX HOURS.REMAIN INSIDE SHELTERS UNTIL TRANSPORT ARRIVES.”For a moment, there was only silence.Then reactions came in waves.Laughter of relief.Sobs breaking free.Some even cheered.A few simply slumped down, staring at the metal floor with glazed disbelief.They were going home.Alive.No more beasts.No more trial.No more death.Just waiting—for rescue.Some students collapsed into seats or curled against walls, exhaustion finally given permission to exist.Others laughed hysterically — laughter not from joy, but from nerves snapping back after too much strain.A boy murmured, voice shaking:“Six hours… that’s all. Just six more…”Another whispered:“I’m gonna sleep for three days straight when I get home…”But soon, the sobering truth returned:Six hours.Six hours still inside
Voices of the Fallen
The Ministry of Education building was never meant to hold a crowd this large—neither physically nor emotionally.Parents, guardians, relatives, even siblings of students spilled across the plaza before the great marble steps. The air was heavy with shouting, pleading, anger, and grief. Holosigns flickered with bold protest scripts:“Bring them back!”“They are children, not soldiers!”“Stop the massacre!”Some held framed photos—smiling student faces now silenced forever. Some cried openly. Others screamed until their voices broke. Many simply stood, trembling, in desperate hope.Inside, Minister of Education Dorrian Blackthorne stood behind reinforced glass, listening to the roar outside. His expression was steady—but there was tension in the way his fingers tapped the desk. His eyes weren’t indifferent; they were pained.Behind him, aides argued in urgent tones.“The pressure is overwhelming— we have to respond—”“If we give in, the credibility of the examination collapses—”“We’ve
I Don’t Need Him Anymore
The shelter was dimly lit by emergency lamps — harsh, pallid, and cold.Inside, tables were crowded with soldiers and officers, their armor still stained with dust and beast blood.A heated discussion was underway.“This is unacceptable,” one lieutenant snapped, slamming his palm on the table. “We can’t keep sending students into death traps. The exam needs to be suspended immediately.”Another officer exhaled, shoulders heavy.“Rank 7 beasts shouldn’t even exist in this region. This entire area was mapped, verified, secured.”“Exactly,” someone muttered. “There hasn’t been Rank 7 or Rank 8 activity in this valley for over a decade. So why now?”One of the strategists spoke softly yet firmly:“Something drove the beasts here… or something summoned them.”A ripple of unease spread through the room.“Then we definitely cannot continue the exam—”“But it’s just one more day!” a younger officer protested. “If we cancel now, the entire evaluation cycle collapses. The students have already
The Ones Who Cannot Run
The second day of the Frontier Examination began under a heavy sky.No one felt the same as the day before.Not after watching students die.Not after seeing Rank 7 beasts rampage through living bodies like wet paper.Not after seeing Ronan and Lucien break through to Rank 8 in front of the world.And not after mourning the fallen.The plaza of the encampment was quieter now. Less chatter. Less arrogance. More steel behind eyes.Everyone respected Ronan Crowne now.Some admired him.Some feared him.Some hated him silently for rising so fast.But no one ignored him.And strangely… Lucien Cross received similar treatment. He too had reached Rank 8, though his aura wavered slightly, like a candle in wind. Still, the title was the title. The achievement was real.They were the two highest-ranking students on the field.Even though the Rank 7 cores had vanished, meaning neither could claim them, Ronan didn’t bother searching for excuses. The beasts died. The cores disappeared. Fine.Let t
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