2025-07-18 19:55:38Even Lucien’s expression shifted.
The list was far larger than he had imagined.
“What? You cut the bond and now hesitate to return what came with it?” Ronan’s tone sharpened. “Or does House Sable intend to break its honor?”
The words hit like stones.
Before Benedric could speak, Calista stepped forward, arms crossed.
“Don’t be ridiculous, you fool! It was a relationship, not a business contract. No woman would ever return gifts after ten years of engagement.”
Lucien followed immediately, “Calista’s right. No real man would ask for those things back. It’s petty and disgraceful.”
Even imagining returning that much was painful, even if it wasn’t his.
And he still hadn’t received the B-grade weapon Benedric had promised him.
How could he just watch Ronan take everything?
Ronan’s eyes darkened.
“So you really plan to keep what was never yours?”
Benedric’s composure finally snapped.
“That’s enough!” he barked.
“You’ve said your piece. Now leave. You won’t be getting anything back. And consider yourself lucky I’m letting you walk after you humiliated my daughter and me.”
“Be gone, Ronan Crowne. Before I lose my temper!”
Return all that wealth?
Impossible!
He had taken everything as theirs the moment they received it.
He had no intention of giving anything back.
And what could Ronan possibly do, force him?
Surely not, he wouldn’t dare, right?
Benedric truly believed the timid boy who once cowered at Calista’s feet would obey.
But he was dead wrong.
Ronan laughed.
Softly at first, then louder, slicing through the tension like thunder.
The Sable elders frowned, uncomfortable and confused.
What was so funny?
Calista looked startled. Lucien narrowed his eyes.
Benedric slammed his fist on the chair arm.
“Enough! Silence, you insolent brat!”
Ronan simply raised a hand.
In a flash, a chair of shadow-forged energy materialized beside him.
He sat with effortless elegance, crossing one leg over the other, as if he were in his own estate, not a hostile clan’s hall.
Resting his arm casually on the chair, he tilted his head.
“You speak to the heir of House Crowne like a tavern drunk lecturing a merchant’s apprentice,” he said softly.
“So tell me again, Benedric Sable, who gives you the right to speak to me this way?”
The insult hung like smoke.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
Benedric sprang to his feet, rage surging.
“You insolent fool! You forget your place!”
“I don’t,” Ronan replied evenly. “But I wonder if you’ve forgotten yours.”
Benedric’s aura exploded.
Red and gold spiritual energy crackled around him like lightning ready to strike.
“I’ll drag you back to your father myself!” he roared. “Let’s see what he has to say about the son he raised!”
And with that, he vanished.
Then, a shockwave.
The air howled.
The floor cracked.
Benedric’s figure burst forward, Rank 7 might blazing.
The younger members of House Sable couldn’t even track his movement.
The elders braced.
But Ronan?
He didn’t move.
Nor did he blink.
He merely whispered, “Slap.”
From thin air, a ghostly hand appeared, translucent yet radiant with terrifying power.
It descended with divine speed and unrelenting force.
SMACK!
A violent crack echoed through the chamber.
Benedric slammed into the floor with bone-shaking force.
The marble beneath him shattered in a spiderweb of cracks.
Blood splattered across his robes.
A set of teeth clattered across the floor.
A bright red handprint burned across his cheek.
Gasps. Silence. Then utter disbelief.
Ronan remained seated. Unmoved.
And then, above them all, a glowing figure slowly descended, shrouded in golden energy.
A true Rank 8 Gold Master had arrived!
Ancient, overwhelming power radiated from him.
Even the air seemed to bow.
Everyone stared, frozen in awe.
Ronan merely smiled.
In an instant, chaos erupted across the main hall of House Sable.
Calista staggered backward, her eyes wide in disbelief.
Lucien clenched his fists, staring in shock at the towering figure beside Ronan, radiating the aura of a true Rank 8 Gold Master.
A Master of such caliber, appearing here?
How come?!
Panic rippled through the room.
Benedric, still reeling from the blow, groaned and struggled to rise.
His once-imposing form looked pitiful as he struggled to claw his way out of the cracked floor.
Finally, he lifted his head, dread heavy in his eyes as he addressed the elder.
“Who... who are you? Why are you interfering in Sable family matters?”
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
The Cost of Holding the Line
“Seal the lattice!”The command tore through every channel at once.At the Outer Defense Command, Captain Hale slammed his palm against the console, eyes locked onto the collapsing window of time.“Crowne, move!” Hale barked into the open channel. “All long-range units—cover him! Clear the path!”Orders cascaded instantly.From the perimeter towers, rail cannons and long-range pulse rifles roared to life. Brilliant streaks of compressed force tore across the unsafe zone, slamming into lesser beasts that surged forward, drawn by the blinding cadence of the Golden Blade.Several fell.Several more replaced them.“There are too many!” an operator shouted. “The unsafe zone is swarming—fire is slowing them but not stopping them!”“Doesn’t matter,” Hale snapped. “Buy him seconds. That’s all he needs!”On the ground, Ronan could feel it—the pressure shifting as distant fire carved narrow gaps through the chaos ahead. Not enough to secure the field. Not enough to make it safe.But enough to r
Beyond the Line
The decision did not echo with ceremony.Ronan Crowne left the grounds of House Crowne under a sky already bending with pressure, the distant air trembling faintly as if the land itself sensed what was coming. The outer lights of Thalara dimmed behind him—not by command, but by instinct, as civilian grids rerouted power inward.Garrick Crowne walked at his left.Magnus Crowne at his right.Behind them, the fighters of House Crowne moved in disciplined silence—no banners, no proclamations. This was not a march meant to be seen. It was a path meant to be carved.“Once we cross the outer line,” Garrick said calmly, eyes forward, “there is no military command that can pull us back.”Ronan nodded. “I know.”Magnus glanced toward the distant horizon, where pressure warped the night into a low, distorted haze.“We clear what follows you,” he said. “You do not slow down. You do not turn back.”“I won’t,” Ronan replied.The moment they stepped beyond the final defensive marker, the difference
The Decoy
The command post near Thalara’s outer boundary was no longer tense.It was frantic.“How long until reinforcement arrives?” someone shouted.A voice answered immediately, too fast, too sharp.“Eight minutes minimum!”“Eight minutes?!” another snapped. “The beast will reach the inner city in five!”On the projection, the dominion-class beast was already pushing past the last rural buffer. Its massive silhouette warped the pressure field ahead of it, steps slow but unstoppable. The defensive grid tried to compensate—failed—recalculated—failed again.The system had already lost the race.“This isn’t possible,” an officer said hoarsely. “That zone was classified stable!”“Stable doesn’t matter anymore,” another replied. “It’s already inside trajectory!”Ronan Crowne stepped forward.“I can pull it away.”The words cut through the chaos—not loudly, but cleanly.Several heads snapped toward him.“Pull it away?” someone repeated, incredulous.“You mean you lure it?”“That’s insanity,” anothe
When Silence Breaks
The auditors had not yet left their seats.Slates were still open. The last exchange—procedural, measured, unresolved—hung in the air like a blade paused mid-fall. Cassian Holt stood near the head of the chamber, posture straight, expression unreadable. Magnus and Garrick Crowne remained composed, hands folded, eyes alert.Ronan stood with them.Then the floor hummed.Not loudly. Not violently. A low, unfamiliar vibration slipped through the chamber’s foundation, subtle enough that only those trained to notice instability reacted at once.Cassian Holt’s head snapped up.The room’s ambient lights dimmed a fraction—then steadied.A heartbeat passed.Then every emergency slate in the room lit up at once.Red.Not audit red.Defense red.A sharp tone cut through the chamber—brief, clipped, unmistakable.“Outer Defense breach alert,” an automated voice announced. “Unregistered dominion-class entity detected within Thalara inner perimeter.”The auditors froze.“What does that mean?” one of
Breach Without an Alarm
The audit did not begin with accusation.It began with silence.Morning light filtered through the tall windows of the Crowne audit chamber in Thalara, casting pale reflections across stone floors polished by centuries of restraint. The auditors took their seats in disciplined order, slates activating one by one, their expressions neutral enough to be unsettling.Ronan stood with the elders of House Crowne—Magnus and Garrick flanking him like immovable pillars. No Patriarch sat at the head. Lucas Crowne remained in interstellar command, his absence noted by everyone and spoken by no one.Cassian Holt occupied the observer’s position.As oversight.“The audit of House Crowne,” the lead auditor announced calmly, “will proceed in accordance with planetary governance statutes of Arken. This session concerns compliance, transparency, and risk evaluation. No conclusions will be drawn today.”Measured. Careful. Surgical.The first inquiries were administrative—records of holdings, deployment
Fault Lines
The golden trace moved again at dawn.Captain Hale was already in the command pit when the perimeter lattice recalibrated itself—quietly, without alarms. The update slid across the main projection like a scar shifting under skin, its coordinates tightening along the defensive arc nearest Thalara’s civilian sectors.“Confirm drift rate,” Hale said.“Confirmed,” an operator replied. “Incremental advance. Same cadence. Same restraint.”Hale leaned in, jaw set. The trace wasn’t testing boundaries anymore. It was learning habits—how close it could press without provoking response, how long command would watch before acting.“Shadow it,” Hale ordered. “Passive only. Randomize patrol cadence within tolerance. I don’t want them reading us.”“Yes, Captain.”The map steadied. The golden residue hovered just beyond escalation thresholds, deliberate as a held breath.Hale exhaled once. “They’re daring us to blink.”Behind him, General Alaric Bray observed in silence. His eyes tracked the data wit
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