The Sovereign Chronicles novel Chapter 20

Kaelen chuckled easily. "Didn't the Sanctum Master host a tea banquet in your honor at the main peak? Ended already?"

"It's likely wrapping up around now," the girl replied, her silken robes drifting as she glided gracefully toward him and took a seat on the stone slab.

She sat in comfortable silence, gazing up at the sea of stars. Her every movement was elegant, radiating the quiet beauty of a blooming tulip.

Lyra. The pride of the Azure Sky Sanctum, one of the five Gold-Crest Paragons.

And the untouchable goddess of countless Initiates.

Usually, she wore a veil to mask her world-shattering beauty, rarely offering so much as a smile to anyone. But tonight, her face was bare. Skin like polished jade, eyes like autumn water, a perfectly sloped nose, and lips stained with natural crimson. Her beauty was genuinely intoxicating, an ethereal, catastrophic kind of perfection that felt entirely disconnected from the mortal world.

Kaelen admired her flawless profile, genuinely happy for her. "Congratulations on breaching the Mystic Warrior Tier. Does it feel good?"

Lyra tapped her fingers lightly on the stone, her lips curving. "I was thrilled the moment I broke through, but the fire settled quickly. In truth, it's nothing to boast about. We martial artists are like the billions of stars up there—all of us burning ourselves out just to shine. And every star that thinks it's the brightest eventually realizes there's a hotter, more blinding sun further in the dark."

"But doesn't that make the journey all the more exhilarating?"

Lyra offered a soft, radiant smile that seemed to banish the dark. It was only in front of Kaelen that she ever let her guard down. "I have to thank you for that Martial Art you delivered. Without it, I never would have broken through this quickly."

"That manual demands a terrifying foundation. I only gave you the first stance. Now that you're a Mystic Warrior, you have the right to study the second." Kaelen pulled the Daevan Sword Tome from his robes.

"I didn't actually train in the first stance. I simply meditated on it to shatter my bottleneck."

"Why didn't you train it?"

"It rejected me."

"What?"

"It looks like a simple sheet of paper, but there is a profound, ancient will buried in the ink. It... actively repelled my Aether."

Kaelen was stunned. Rejected? Was the true power of the Daevan Sword Tome not in the parchment itself, but bound to a specific bloodline or aura?

"Where did you find this? The grade of this Martial Art is easily Earth-tier. Perhaps even higher." Lyra hadn't trained the technique, but she had analyzed it meticulously.

"The Old Man gave it to me before he vanished."

"Where did he go?"

"I wish I knew. Packed up and vanished like smoke." Kaelen shrugged.

"If it was his parting gift, then it belongs solely to you." Lyra pushed the Tome back toward him. "The swordplay within is bizarre and esoteric, completely alien to the Sanctum's orthodox styles. Once you master it, perhaps you can spar with me and offer some inspiration."

"Deal."

"Were you practicing a new spell just now?" Lyra had been watching him from the shadows for a while. The boiling Aether, the massive lightning serpent, the blinding incandescence—it was a terrifying display of force. She could hardly believe it was Kaelen.

Kaelen hesitated for a fraction of a second. "I killed Moria Vance and Corin."

"During the expedition?" Lyra asked, her voice perfectly calm.

Kaelen gave a brutal, abridged summary of the slaughter in the Veilwood. "I fenced Corin's Gilded Bronze Sword for a lightning manual."

"The Gilded Bronze Sword is a signature weapon of Mount Veridia. If those Mercenaries get drunk and boast in the wrong tavern, the Elders will trace it back to you."

"Let them try. I'll just say I picked it off a corpse. I've got nothing to lose; let them come at me."

Lyra shook her head with a soft laugh. "Do you want to know what was discussed at the banquet today?"

"Besides blowing smoke up your skirt, what else is there?" Kaelen leaned back, lying flat against the stone.

"I am having a very bad day, trash. You really don't want to test me." The boy slammed his heavy boot down on the trailing chain. His name was Garrick Thorne, an Upper Initiate with a brutal reputation. He had just been humiliated in a spar on the arena floor and was boiling with rage. Kaelen was simply the closest punching bag.

"Move your foot." Kaelen turned, his eyes dead and cold.

"Word is you crawled into the Third Phase of the Spirit Warrior Tier. Is that it? You think you can bark at an Upper Initiate now? Boy, you are digging your own grave!" Garrick laughed mockingly. A bottom-feeding slave daring to glare at him?

"I'm a bottom-feeder, yet I've reached the Spirit Warrior Tier. You're an elite Upper Initiate, and you're only at Phase Five. Doesn't that embarrass you?" Kaelen mocked flawlessly. He wrapped the thick chain around his forearm and gave a violent, savage yank, ripping the massive iron links right out from under Garrick's boot.

"Ha! You were arrogant before, but now you're just begging for death. So what if you have Aether? Without Martial Arts, you are nothing but a resilient cockroach. Looks like you need another beating to remind you of your place." Garrick drew his steel broadsword with a sharp *shing*, hacking down toward Kaelen with lethal intent.

"Garrick, stand down!" a girl shouted from the stands, disgusted by the bullying.

"Have you no shame, Garrick? An Upper Initiate crossing blades with a Servitor?" Others jeered, though not a single one actually stepped in to stop the execution.

Kaelen's expression turned glacial. He casually sidestepped the heavy blade, and in the same heartbeat, his palm cracked across Garrick's jaw like a thunderclap. Kaelen's hands hit harder than forged iron. *CRACK!* Garrick's head snapped back violently. Blood and shattered molars exploded from his mouth as he stumbled backward, his vision swimming.

Garrick staggered a full ten paces before catching his balance, his right cheek already swelling into a grotesque, purple lump.

The spectators drew a sharp, collective breath. The strike was blindingly fast, and brutally heavy.

"You little bastard... I'm going to rip you apart!" Garrick's eyes went completely bloodshot. Roaring like a slaughtered pig, he shook his head to clear the concussion and charged at Kaelen, blade raised.

Kaelen gripped the massive iron chain and whipped it through the air. *CLANG!* The thirty-foot, three-hundred-pound chain shrieked like a demon as Kaelen lashed it with terrifying, effortless ease. The sheer display of monstrous physical strength sent shockwaves of awe through the crowd.

*CRACKLE!*

Violent violet lightning erupted from Kaelen's flesh, surging down the length of the iron chain.

"Die, you..." Before Garrick could even swing, the electrified iron chain descended like the whip of a god. *CRACK!* The heavy iron struck his back, completely flaying the skin and muscle. Blood sprayed the stone. Under the horrified, slack-jawed gaze of hundreds of elites, the sheer kinetic force of the chain violently launched Garrick right off the edge of the arena, sending his screaming, broken body tumbling down the jagged mountain steps.