The Sovereign Chronicles novel Chapter 23

Kaelen knew Maelor wouldn't let him walk away freely. He furrowed his brows in thought for a moment before speaking. "Does Lord Maelor truly wish to offer me his guidance?"

"Fellow Initiates of the Sanctum must aid one another. My intentions are pure, though I wonder if you possess the courage to accept."

"I'm not in peak condition today. How about this: exactly one month from today, I will stand right here and formally challenge you."

"Challenge? You? Challenging me?"

"If I am still standing after the turning of an hourglass, you hand over three Glimmerpearl Herbs. Do we have a deal?"

The surrounding Initiates stared at Kaelen in utter disbelief, convinced their ears were deceiving them.

"Care to repeat that?" Maelor cupped an ear in exaggerated disbelief.

"One month from today, right here, I will formally challenge you, Maelor. If I am still standing after the turning of an hourglass, I claim victory, and you owe me three Glimmerpearl Herbs." Kaelen enunciated every word with crystal clarity.

The crowd sucked in a collective breath. *Insanity! Challenging Maelor? You?*

"What does he think one month is going to do? That he can eclipse Maelor in thirty days? He must be delusional."

"He's digging his own grave. In a month, Maelor will have entirely consolidated his Phase Seven foundation. He'll be even more lethal. Forget an hourglass—Maelor will blast him off the stage with a single palm."

"He's cornered. This is just a desperate stalling tactic."

The Initiates shook their heads. There was zero logical progression that would allow Kaelen to surpass Maelor's growth rate.

Maelor blinked, then erupted into booming laughter. "Are you absolutely certain?"

"I am entirely certain! The desire is mine, and I sincerely hope Senior Maelor grants me this privilege," Kaelen echoed Maelor’s previous words flawlessly. With his current output, defeating a Phase Seven outright was an astronomical order. But enduring for a single hourglass? He could manage that. He had spent years visualizing a duel with Maelor, obsessing over the power of the *Verdict of True Thunder*. This was his shot.

"And what happens when you lose?"

"My fate is yours to decide." Kaelen’s tone was indifferent.

"You spoke those words yourself."

"I did."

"Bear witness, everyone. One month from today, on these very grounds, I, Maelor, accept Kaelen's challenge." Maelor threw his arms wide, addressing the courtyard. No one cheered. Everyone simply stared in grim silence. *Oh, Kaelen, you truly don't know the meaning of death. You can act arrogant around the Lower Initiates. You can even brawl with the Middle Initiates. But a Prime Initiate is untouchable. Maelor practically laid a trap to butcher you, and you gleefully jumped right in. Should we call it an unbreakable spine, or just utter stupidity?*

"I will see you in one month." Kaelen hoisted the stone vat onto his shoulder and turned away.

Maelor sneered at his back. "If you're not ready in a month, I can wait another month. Hell, I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to gather your courage."

A smattering of nervous laughter rippled through the crowd.

"One month is enough." A cold, crystalline voice suddenly cut through from the eastern edge of the grounds. It was ethereal and melodious, yet carried the freezing distance of an untouchable goddess. Though not loud, it washed clearly over the entire arena.

The crowd snapped their heads toward the sound, and a shockwave of gasps tore through the courtyard.

"Lyra? It's Lady Lyra!"

"Why is she at the sparring grounds?!"

A young woman of transcendent beauty drifted into the courtyard. A violet veil concealed her world-shattering features, but her graceful, flowing movements and otherworldly aura made her look like an immortal stepping out from a mythic tapestry. This was The Azure Sky Sanctum's Gold-Crest Paragon—Lyra! Beside her stood the pretty Celine, her almond eyes sweeping coldly over the tightly packed crowd.

As Kaelen and his companions walked away, dozens of Initiates lingered by the stone stairs, watching their retreating backs with eyes burning with envy. *How in the abyss does this bastard have such luck with women? To be favored by Lyra herself...* In the entirety of the Sanctum, Kaelen was likely the only man permitted within arm's reach of her. Yet, within the envy lay a profound pity. His brand as a Servitor shackled him entirely.

"The Sanctum Master has made his ruling?" Kaelen hadn't expected Lyra to appear here.

Lyra spoke softly. "Your status as a Servitor remains. However, he has granted you one entry into The Vanguard Vault."

Kaelen fell silent for a moment before giving a slow nod. "Expected. The Sanctum Master won't risk drawing the Grand Elder's ire over me just yet."

"The Sanctum Master met with my Master in private this morning. He made it clear that, in the short term, no one will lift your Servitor brand. Elevating a standard Servitor is trivial; any Elder holds that authority. But you are a political prisoner, condemned by the Grand Elder's explicit decree, and tied directly to the fall of The Stormhold Citadel. The politics are volatile. No one will cross the Grand Elder for your sake. Not even the Sanctum Master."

Kaelen fell silent again. "I don't actually care about the 'Servitor' title. What I care about is the Grand Elder's ironclad hostility toward The Stormhold Citadel."

Lyra understood that Kaelen was grieving. He wasn't upset that she failed to strip his slave status; he was burdened by the Grand Elder’s unyielding stance against him and his fallen city. The path to liberating The Stormhold Citadel was still suffocatingly long.

Celine offered a comforting smile. "The Sanctum Master specifically decreed you access to The Vanguard Vault! That's an immense honor, and it grants you a proper martial codex. You should be smiling!"

Lyra added, "The Sanctum Master left my Master with a final remark. I believe it was meant entirely for you."

"What did he say?" Kaelen centered his mind. There was no point agonizing over political realities he had already anticipated.

"He said, 'You lack the qualifications to make me intervene in the affairs of The Stormhold Citadel.'" Lyra paused, her voice softening. "It sounds harsh, but it holds a thread of expectation and encouragement. The subtext is clear: forge the qualifications to make him take you seriously. Give him a reason, written in blood and power, to break your chains. If you can force the entire Sanctum to look at you with awe, he will reconsider."

Celine looped her arm through Kaelen's, tilting her head with a playful grin. "Senior Lyra and I are placing our bets on you. Give us a smile."

Kaelen couldn't help but laugh softly. "You don't need to worry about me. I'll carve out a place for myself, one way or another."