2025-07-18 19:56:43Though proud of his own strength as a peak-stage Rank 7 Grandmaster, Benedric knew he couldn’t compare to a true Rank 8 Gold Master.
That was an entirely different realm.
The elder didn’t answer immediately.
His cold, contemptuous gaze swept over Benedric and the Sables as if they were mere insects in the mud.
“You dare lay a hand on the heir of House Crowne,” he sneered. “Do you even understand the weight of your actions, worm?”
Benedric froze.
It finally sank in.
Ronan hadn't come alone.
He had brought a protector, one with power far beyond anyone in this room.
Ronan’s voice was calm, almost amused.
“Uncle Magnus, no need to waste words. He hasn’t even broken through to Rank 8. What would he understand?”
The elder beside Ronan was none other than Magnus Crowne, Ronan’s great-uncle and assigned protector.
As the Crowne heir, Ronan never moved without elite guardianship.
Magnus nodded. “You’re right. The Sables are frogs in a well. Their arrogance has made them forget their place.”
He then stepped forward, gaze sharp as a blade.
“You think you can keep the betrothal assets and spit on our name? A house without a single Rank 8 dares defy the line of Elder Archmaster Lucas Crowne?”
He shook his head in disgust. “You’re not even worth being enemies.”
Turning to Ronan, Magnus added, “Ending the engagement was the right choice. These fools aren’t worthy of House Crowne. Let them drown in their own stupidity.”
Ronan nodded. “I only came here to close the door properly.”
The words hung in the air like chains.
No Sable dared speak.
Who would?
They faced a true Rank 8 Gold Master, a realm most had only heard of in rumors.
Benedric clenched his fists, his face pale.
He had never expected Ronan to have a Rank 8 protector.
In a strained voice, he growled, “Does House Crowne intend to break Thandor’s laws? Kill a man below your rank? The Martial Code forbids it!”
Magnus chuckled darkly. “Kill you? Oh please. That would be too generous.”
Ronan’s eyes gleamed coldly. “Making you kneel? That’s enough.”
The words struck Benedric like thunder.
Kneel? In front of his entire bloodline?
“You basta—!”
But before he could react, a wave of Rank 8 pressure slammed into him.
Bones creaked.
His knees buckled without resistance.
He collapsed, face-down on the floor, unable to lift his head.
The hall fell deathly silent.
“No!!” Calista’s voice shrieked through the stillness as she ran to her father’s side.
“Stop it, Ronan! Or I’ll never forgive you for this!”
Her voice cracked, her eyes red with fury. “You coward! You bully! Using your family to humiliate mine. Have you no shame?”
Ronan didn’t even blink.
He looked down at her, unimpressed.
She and the Sables still didn’t get it.
They still thought House Crowne was something they could provoke at will.
They hadn’t realized they were facing a mountain hidden behind the clouds.
To the world, House Crowne was merely backed by Rank 9 Elder Archmaster Lucas Crowne and a prestigious bloodline.
But the truth was far more terrifying.
Behind the scenes, House Crowne housed multiple Rank 9 Elder Archmasters, over a dozen Rank 8 Gold Masters, and countless elites.
They weren’t just a noble house.
They stood above the United Kingdom of Thandor itself.
And yet this petty, greedy, arrogant family, with its strongest still stuck at Rank 7, dared to insult them and covet Crowne resources, just because Ronan had once been blind with love?
Ronan eyes darkened.
In his previous life, House Sable had clung to House Crowne like a swarm of leeches, draining them dry, bleeding them of every precious resource and ounce of prestige.
And he, blind with love, had let them.
No, worse! He had offered it all willingly.
His time, his reputation, his clan’s treasures... all wasted on a woman who had only ever viewed him as a tool.
For years, Calista had played the doting fiancée in public, while behind closed doors she plotted with Lucien Cross.
Together, they seized everything Ronan had gifted her, and used it to lift House Sable to new heights, right as House Crowne crumbled.
Ronan had watched it all collapse.
He had watched the flames devour his clan’s grounds.
He had seen the banners of House Sable fly high above the ashes of his lineage, like vultures parading over corpses.
Lucien, smug and celebrated.
Calista, smiling at his downfall.
That image... would haunt him for eternity.
But not this time.
Never again.
This time, he would not play the fool.
He would not be the one kneeling.
His blood would not feed their greedy and ambition.
He had been given a second chance, and he would burn every illusion, every false bond, until House Sable and Lucien Cross were stripped of everything they had stolen.
Calista shouted again, her voice cutting through his thoughts, furious, “You bastard, Ronan! You think hurting people makes you strong?”
Lucien’s eyes burned with righteous anger.
“You humiliate the Sables, threaten a Grandmaster, and call yourself a man? If you’re so tough, duel me. Just the two of us. Let’s see if you can fight without hiding behind your elders!”
With a Rank 8 Gold Master watching, he knew he couldn’t kill Ronan.
But injuring him?
That was still fair game!
Lucien was counting on the Martial Code, Rank 8s were strictly forbidden from interfering in fights between lower-ranked cultivators.
As long as he didn’t go for the kill, that Rank 8 Gold Master couldn’t interfere.
And he was confident he could easily crush Ronan.
He was a mid-stage Rank 4Limit Breaker, powered up with refined Rank 5 spiritual energy, a level he believed let him leap over his rank entirely.
In Lucien’s mind, it was simple: Ronan might be early-stage Rank 5 at best, but his raw energy was far stronger.
Every swing, every strike would land with force Ronan couldn’t hope to withstand.
The thought made Lucien all the more self-assured.
Ronan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“A duel?” he repeated lazily, as if Lucien had asked for a dance. “Sure, why not?”
“Ronan, kneel and beg forgiveness!” Lucien spat, his expression twisted with smug confidence.
He surged forward, his fist glowing with refined Rank 5 spiritual energy.
The floor cracked beneath his feet as he launched himself toward Ronan like a missile.
“End it, Lucien!” Calista cried out from behind him.
Seeing Lucien stand up for her made her pulse race. “Teach him a lesson!”
In her eyes, Lucien, who lived and breathed combat, would surely leave Ronan, this pampered heir, crawling on the floor.
And in that moment, a flicker of sweetness stirred in her heart.
What woman wouldn’t be moved by a man who stepped up to defend her when she and her family were under attack?
Meanwhile, fueled by Calista’s cheers, Lucien unconsciously ramped up the force behind his stike.
“GO TO HELL, RONAN!” he roared, blood rushing to his head.
Everyone leaned forward, ready for a fierce clash.
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The Sovereign Edge
The beam struck.White light consumed the battlefield as the Velmoran capital ship’s main cannon erupted across the corridor, the energy column tearing through space with terrifying force. Arken’s defensive grid flared violently as the blast slammed into the fleet’s formation, shields shattering in cascading bursts of blue light.Several ships vanished instantly.Fragments of metal and burning debris spiraled through the void as the shockwave rippled outward.Inside the command chamber, the projection flooded with warning indicators.“Shield collapse on two cruisers!”“Forward interceptors destroyed!”The corridor trembled under the impact.But the fleet still held.Barely.Ronan didn’t look at the damage reports. His eyes were locked on the tactical grid where the capital ship drifted within the narrowing corridor like an iron mountain refusing to move.The support unit that should have arrived—still hadn’t.He opened the operational logs with a flick of his hand.Transmission delay
The Killing Zone
The capital ship fired.There was no warning flare, no gradual buildup that gave time for fear to spread.One moment the enormous Velmoran vessel was drifting within the narrowing corridor of Arken’s trap.The next—its primary cannon ignited.A column of white energy tore across space, the beam so intense that the void itself seemed to ripple as it passed. Defensive alarms erupted across Arken’s fleet as the blast carved through the battlefield toward the command sector where Ronan stood.“Main weapon discharge!” an operator shouted.The command chamber flooded with red warning lights as the projection registered the incoming strike.Cassian leaned forward sharply.“They’re targeting the strategist!”Lucas didn’t raise his voice.“All defensive grids reinforce command coordinates.”Outside the station, dozens of Arken ships shifted instantly, their shields overlapping in a layered barrier as the beam slammed into the defensive network. The impact shook the entire formation, energy fl
When the Trap Closes
The first alarm did not sound like panic.It sounded like inevitability.A sharp tone echoed through the command chamber as the tactical projection flashed with new activity. Velmoran strike groups surged forward along the corridor Arken’s fleet had carefully shaped, their engines burning in tight formation as they crossed the final threshold into engagement range.“Enemy strike wings entering the corridor!” an operator reported.Cassian leaned over the central projection, his eyes narrowing as the Velmoran formation compressed exactly where Ronan had predicted.“They’re committed,” he said.Lucas’s voice cut through the room, calm and steady.“All fleets maintain current alignment.”Outside the station, the silent tension shattered.Velmora fired first.Brilliant lances of energy streaked through the void, slamming into Arken’s forward shield grid in overlapping detonations. The defensive lattice flared as it absorbed the opening barrage, its energy rippling across the formation like
The Corridor
The fleet moved like a quiet machine.Across the tactical projection suspended above the command chamber, hundreds of Arken vessels shifted by fractions of degrees—small adjustments that meant everything. Carriers rotated their defensive arcs. Escort destroyers drifted into new alignment corridors. Energy stabilizers pulsed softly as the damaged edge of Sector Epsilon compensated for the missing lattice.To an outside observer, it looked routine.To the officers in the room, it was anything but.Cassian stood with his arms folded behind his back, watching the projection with the still patience of someone who had fought enough wars to know that the moments before battle were often the most fragile.“You’re certain they’ll commit?” he asked.Ronan didn’t answer immediately. His eyes moved across the data streams flowing along the edges of the display—sensor echoes, micro-adjustments in Velmoran positioning, subtle gravitational disturbances that hinted at hidden movement.“They already
The Target
The command chamber felt different tonight.Not louder, not more chaotic—just sharper. Every voice carried a little more urgency, every movement a little more deliberate. The projection above the central table rotated slowly, showing the shifting formations of both fleets across the contested sector.Velmora had changed their pattern again.An analyst adjusted the projection, narrowing the display until a series of converging vectors became visible.“They’re repositioning their strike groups,” he said, pointing toward the outer arcs. “But not toward the fleet.”Cassian leaned forward slightly. “Clarify.”The analyst enlarged the data.“Every time we adjust our defensive alignment,” he continued, “their formation recalibrates to follow one signal source.”A faint marker pulsed at the center of the projection.Ronan.Silence spread across the room.Another officer spoke carefully. “You’re saying their tactical priority is no longer the defensive ring.”“Yes, sir.”Cassian’s eyes narrowe
Before the Storm Breaks
The station felt quieter than it had any right to be.Not peaceful—never peaceful—but quieter. The kind of quiet that came after something violent, when everyone was still moving, still working, but with the unspoken awareness of how close things had come to breaking.Outside the reinforced observation glass, repair drones drifted in slow arcs around the fractured edge of Sector Epsilon, weaving new energy lines into place. The temporary lattice glowed faintly, fragile compared to the seamless ring that had existed before, but holding.For now.Ronan stood with his hands resting lightly behind his back, watching the work in silence until footsteps approached from behind.“You’re going to burn a hole through the glass if you keep staring like that.”He turned slightly. One of the engineering officers—Lieutenant Mara—offered a tired half-smile, dark circles under her eyes betraying how long she’d been on shift.“How bad is it?” Ronan asked.She exhaled through her nose, glancing back to
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