An unfamiliar silence filled the flying palace.
Not the silence of respect,
nor the silence of anticipation,
but the silence of those who felt that something had slipped outside logic,
something their minds were not equipped to understand,
nor brave enough to acknowledge.
Ashen stood where he was.
He did not move.
He was not affected.
He showed not the slightest interest.
As if what had happened moments ago
was nothing more than a passing glance
on a long road
where the final looks were always meant for others.
But inside the hall…
everything
was breaking silently.
The King of the Crystal Kingdom slowly tightened his fingers around the arm of his stone throne.
That gaze…
was not a pressure of power,
nor an aura of energy,
but something deeper.
Something that did not belong to any familiar cultivation path.
He looked at his daughters
and, without realizing it, measured the distance between them and that boy.
We raise heirs.
We refine them.
We protect them.
But that one?
That one is made as a catastrophe.
For the first time in many years,
a doubt slipped into his heart, a doubt he had never known before:
Is inheritance enough…
when something like this is born?
The King of the Taso Kingdom did not speak.
His eyes narrowed.
His breathing was controlled.
My son needed a complete spell…
preparation…
timing…
pressure…
And this one?
This one only needs to look.
For the first time since ascending the throne,
he felt something close to anxiety,
an anxiety that could not be threatened by swords,
nor bought with gold.
The leaders of the Seven Valleys Kingdom exchanged brief looks,
careful,
fast like an unspoken stab.
One of them thought:
This type of being…
if we cannot win him over,
then at the very least,
we must not become his enemies.
In their world,
neutrality in front of predators
is another form of wisdom.
The King of the Arko Kingdom smiled,
but his smile was stiff,
as if the muscles of his face had not yet received the order.
Corval, you fox…
You did not invite us to watch a battle.
You invited us to witness the birth of a threat.
The King of the Uraro Kingdom lowered his head slightly.
He looked at his daughters,
then at Ashen.
Even if they joined forces…
even if they burned themselves out…
they would not create this emptiness.
And in that moment, he understood:
Some gaps
are not filled by effort,
but by blood.
The leader of the Melted Blood Sect felt a strange heat flow through his blood.
This is not an ordinary boy.
This is blood that knows killing by instinct.
He slowly clenched his fist.
If this boy were placed in our sect…
he would either become its master,
or burn it from the inside.
And no one in the sect
would survive either outcome.
The leader of the Hundred Curse Sect was pale.
He had lived among curses
and heard the whispers of death every night.
But that gaze?
It was purer than any curse.
Curses are born from hatred.
But this…
was born from emptiness.
The representative of the Soul Assassination Organization smiled.
A professional smile.
No hesitation.
No trembling.
No wrong calculations.
This is not a target.
This is the thing
we send to kill targets.
The commander of the Eastern Mercenaries laughed inwardly.
If money could buy this kind of being,
I would have sold half the continent.
But some things
are not bought.
They are paid for.
And sometimes the price
is more expensive than anything imaginable.
The young generation—
here,
was where the real chaos lay.
Some of them
felt insulted.
How can a boy our age
look at us like that?
Some of them
felt envy.
If I had one tenth of this presence,
I would be king before my father.
And some of them…
and they were few…
felt fear.
Silent fear.
Unspoken fear.
Fear that understands
it has seen something
that is not easily defeated.
The daughters of the Crystal King looked at each other without a word.
One of them understood:
This is not someone we compete with.
The other realized:
This is something
we avoid standing in the way of.
The son of the Taso King clenched his jaw.
He remembered the gray bear.
He remembered his effort.
He remembered his pride.
Then he looked at Ashen…
and felt that his pride
was small.
The disciples of the sects
began redefining the word talent.
We study.
We train.
We plan.
And he?
He simply…
exists.
Corval's children
were the most silent of all.
The boy
looked for a long time,
then lowered his eyes.
If this is what my father sees…
then the road to the peak
is longer,
and harsher,
than I imagined.
As for the girl…
she smiled.
Not admiration.
Not challenge.
But something more dangerous.
This… is an opponent I want to see fall.
Not because I hate him,
but because the world
cannot contain us both.
Even if it costs me my life.
Corval,
amid all this,
was slowly drinking in the scene.
Every gaze.
Every tightening.
Every trembling soul.
Good…
Very good…
The bait was swallowed.
He looked at Ashen,
then at everyone else,
and thought to himself:
This is not a monster.
This is a scale.
And whoever does not understand its weight
will be crushed by history.
Ashen?
He did not think about them.
He did not analyze them.
He was not affected.
A single thought slipped into his mind,
cold,
passing.
Then he spoke, in a voice devoid of any soul or emotion, yet colder than darkness itself:
How long will this display last?
He was only waiting for one thing…
the fight.