The Sovereign Chronicles novel Chapter 33

Wearing a veil of spun silk that concealed her breathtaking features, Linnea offered a fleeting glance across the arena before ascending to a high, secluded vantage point. She offered a brief, polite nod toward Lyra across the way, utterly ignoring the explosive whispers and awestruck stares directed at her. She stood there in perfect silence.

Like a lone snow lotus blooming on a glacial peak, she exuded not just an aura of frost, but an unshakable sense of sacred purity.

"Lyra and Linnea, the twin goddesses of our Sanctum, gracing the same event. A once-in-a-lifetime sight."

"We are feasting today, brothers."

"We know Lyra is here for Kaelen, but why did Linnea show up?"

"Who cares! We get a bloody duel and unparalleled beauty in one day. The gods are smiling upon us."

The fervor over Linnea's arrival had barely begun to settle when an even more imposing figure strode into the arena.

Corvus! The Gold-Crest Paragon! Corvus of the Golden Blade!

"Why is he here? Does he seriously think Kaelen is worth his time?" Gideon, a Prime Initiate with a monstrously massive frame and a scarred, ugly visage, snorted like a territorial beast. He glared at Corvus from across the grounds, his wild aura flaring.

"Heh. He doesn't care about the fight. He just came to watch Kaelen die," Lian replied smoothly, stepping up beside Gideon. The elegant, almost effeminate noble possessed an overwhelming presence of his own. His mastery of the elusive Mirage Blade Style made him a nightmare for almost any Prime Initiate in the Sanctum.

Corvus possessed a rugged, masculine beauty, his dark eyes resembling twin abysses. To the Initiates of The Azure Sky Sanctum, the name Corvus carried terrifying weight. He was a genius among geniuses, a one-in-a-thousand prodigy.

The title of Gold-Crest Paragon was his absolute crowning glory.

Male and female Initiates alike held a deep, ingrained reverence for him. When a man's power and status eclipsed yours so completely that you could only look up to him, jealousy ceased to exist. Only awe remained.

Ignoring the frantic whispering, Corvus walked to the edge of the arena with an icy demeanor. He said nothing, though his gaze softened fractionally when it swept past Lyra.

He was naturally cold, detesting idle chatter. Not a single person among the thousands present dared to speak to him or block his path. The crowd instinctively parted, forming a wide, unbroken avenue leading straight to the front row.

The tension in the arena was electric. The presence of Corvus, Titus, Lyra, Linnea, and Gideon elevated this from a petty grudge match to a marquee event. It was unprecedented to see so many legendary figures in one place.

Shortly after, Maelor arrived, flanked by a dozen sycophants. He instantly became the center of the arena's attention.

Several Prime Initiates narrowed their eyes, assessing his aetheric signature.

Word had spread that Maelor had been personally whisked away for private tutelage by the Grand Elder. The Grand Elder was one of the top five strongest warriors in the entire Sanctum! While the old monster had many Prime Initiates under his wing, he rarely spent dedicated time physically coaching them. The fact that he had locked himself away with Maelor for an entire month was enough to drive the other disciples mad with envy.

If it weren't for this highly publicized duel, would the Grand Elder have bothered? Maelor had struck gold.

Basking in the cheers and flattering shouts, Maelor strode up the stone steps of the stage, a smug smile plastered across his face. He thrived in this environment. He felt the raw power coursing through his veins. This past month had forged him into a weapon; not only had he hit the absolute peak of Phase Seven, but he had also achieved complete mastery over the Verdict of True Thunder. And that wasn't even his greatest trump card.

He understood the Grand Elder's unspoken directive. The master had invested heavy resources in him and expected a return on that investment.

The plan for today? Cripple Kaelen completely. Shatter his Aether Core, sever his martial path forever, and see if the mutt could still bark.

"Maelor's aether density... he's definitely hit the peak of Phase Seven."

"Trained personally by the Grand Elder? Phase Seven is the bare minimum. I bet he was gifted something much deadlier."

"Maelor looks like a predator ready to feast. Kaelen is a dead man walking."

"Kaelen has raw physical strength, sure, but against Maelor's devastating lightning-aspect martial arts? He'll be incinerated."

"The level gap is just too massive."

The crowd buzzed, a mix of awe and bitter jealousy coloring their words.

Maelor scanned the VIP sections, his chest puffing out as he spotted Lyra, Corvus, and Titus. *This* was the kind of audience a man of his stature deserved.

When his eyes landed on Linnea, his smile grew noticeably warmer.

"I don't recall us setting an exact time. You rushed up here to show off like a peacock, and now you're mad at me?" Kaelen cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and stretched out his heavily muscled arms.

"You ungrateful peasant. I'm going to rip you apart." Maelor's eyes burned with malice. *How dare a filthy servant speak to a Prime Initiate with such insolence!*

Kaelen clenched his fists and dropped into the heavy, grounded opening stance of The Titan's Vigor, beckoning his opponent forward. "Let's get this over with. Watch out for my fists. They might not kill you, but they're definitely going to leave a mark."

Suddenly, a gasp rang out from the crowd. "Phase Five?! Kaelen was at Phase Three!"

The shout came from Gideon. The massive Prime Initiate had been staring holes into Kaelen since he arrived, sensing something was deeply off. It wasn't until Kaelen unleashed his combat aura that Gideon realized the truth: this wasn't the weak, flickering aether of Phase Three. It was a dense, fully stabilized Phase Five!

Just a month ago, Kaelen had been at Phase Three of The Spirit Warrior Tier. Breaking through to Phase Four in a single month would have been a miracle. Phase Five was scientifically impossible.

"Phase Five? By the gods, it's true!" The arena erupted into a frenzy of shocked whispers.

"You broke through to Phase Five?" Maelor's expression tightened, his eyes scanning Kaelen's physical form like a hawk.

"Just recently," Kaelen admitted casually.

"Hmph. Good. At least you won't shatter on the first hit." Maelor quickly regained his composure, a twisted sense of excitement replacing his annoyance. Crushing a Phase Three was a chore; destroying a Phase Five would actually be entertaining. Even though a Phase Five was still a pathetic joke compared to his Phase Seven peak, it meant he could hit a little harder before the toy broke.

Celine flipped the heavy hourglass on the referee's table. "Are both combatants ready? When do we begin?"

"Right now." Maelor began walking slowly toward Kaelen. He had waited long enough. No more talking.

"Whenever you're ready," Kaelen replied, holding his stance.

"I hear you've been practicing The Titan's Vigor. How many segments have you managed to unlock?" Maelor sneered, his steps unhurried but filled with mounting pressure. His dark eyes locked onto Kaelen, his killing intent sharpening into a physical blade. In Maelor's mind, the rest of the arena had already faded away. There was only his prey.

The air in the Proving Grounds grew thick and suffocating. The execution was about to begin.