Chapter 32: The Fiancé
The Grand Arena of Ascension was silent. The cheering that had accompanied the previous matches was gone, replaced by a heavy, suffocating tension.
The final match was no longer just a tournament. It was a political execution.
On the massive crystal screens floating above the stadium, the roster was displayed in stark, glowing letters.
[Final Match: Battle Royale]
[Aerthos World vs. Iron-Blood World]
[Special Participant: Prince Aethelred (Middle-Level World)]
The arena floor rumbled as the spatial arrays shifted for the final time. The stone pillars of the previous round sank into the ground. In their place, ancient, crumbled ruins rose from the dust. Broken arches, shattered statues of forgotten gods, and a sky that burned with the crimson hue of a dying sun.
Biome: The Gate of the Ancients.
"This is it," Prince Valerian whispered, adjusting his grip on his sword. He stood beside me in the preparation circle. "That guy... Aethelred... his aura feels heavy. It's dense. Like breathing mercury."
"He is suppressing his cultivation," I explained calmly, checking the sharpness of Antakala. "He is a Mid-Stage Demigod in the Middle World. Here, the World Laws force him down to Peak Core Formation. But his techniques, his body, and his artifacts are all Divine Grade."
"So we're fighting a god who is holding his breath?" Lyra asked, her face pale.
"We are fighting a rich kid with expensive toys," I corrected. "Don't be intimidated by the price tag. Divine Gold bleeds just like pig iron."
I looked up at the VIP box.
Seraphina was standing at the railing, her hands gripping the gold bar so hard it was warped into the shape of her fingers. Violet sparks danced around her hair. She was staring daggers at the Iron-Blood entrance tunnel.
"Don't kill him, Seraphina," I projected a mental thought to her. "I want his loot."
Seraphina huffed, crossing her arms. 'Break his nose, darling. For me.'
The heavy iron gates on the far side groaned open.
The Iron-Blood Team marched out.
Leading them was Grom, the Half-Giant. He was massive, eight feet of grey muscle and scarred skin. He wielded a war hammer that looked like it weighed a ton. Behind him were three armored warriors, each radiating bloodlust.
But nobody was looking at Grom.
Floating above them, descending on a cloud of golden petals (yes, actual flower petals conjured by magic), was Prince Aethelred.
He was the definition of "Too Much."
He wore armor made of Rose-Gold Divine Steel, etched with moving runes of light. His cape was made of Phoenix Feathers. His hair was blonde, perfectly curled, and he held a rapier that glowed with holy light.
He landed softly on a broken pillar, looking down at us with a sneer that could curdle milk.
"So," Aethelred's voice was amplified by magic, echoing across the stadium. "This is the 'Team' that my beloved Seraphina has been wasting her time with?"
He pointed his rapier at Valerian.
"A primitive monkey with a tin sword."
He pointed at Anya.
"A feral child."
He pointed at me.
"And you. The cook."
Aethelred laughed. "Seraphina, my love! Come down from the stands! Stop playing with these mud-dwellers. Come back to the Middle World, and I will forgive your little rebellious phase."
In the stands, Seraphina's eye twitched. She summoned a ball of black fire.
Headmaster Altair quickly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Lady, please. The stadium cannot survive your anger."
I stepped forward.
"Hey. Pinky," I called out.
The stadium gasped.
"Pinky? Did he just call the Divine Prince 'Pinky'?"
Aethelred froze. His smile vanished. "Excuse me? This is Divine Rose-Gold. It is the metal of Kings. You wouldn't understand, peasant."
"It looks like a flamingo vomited on you," I said flatly. "And that sword. Quasi-Saint Grade, right? The Lightbringer? It's a nice toothpick."
Aethelred's face turned red (clashing horribly with his armor).
"You dare mock me? I was going to end this quickly, but now... I will make it slow. Grom! Kill the others. Leave the cook to me."
"BEGIN!" the Referee shouted, diving for cover.
BOOM.
The battle exploded instantly.
Grom roared, slamming his hammer into the ground. A shockwave of earth tore through the ruins.
"Aerthos insects! I will crush you!"
"Valerian, Kael, Lyra!" I ordered. "Handle the giant and the goons. Use the Triangle Formation. Don't try to overpower them; outlast them."
"On it!" Valerian shouted. "Kael, shield up!"
Kael raised his greatsword, blocking a massive strike from one of the Iron-Blood warriors. Valerian and Lyra moved to flank. They were outnumbered and outgunned, but they had the mental fortitude of survivors from Level 50. They held the line.
Anya looked at me. "Big Brother, can I blow up the pink man?"
"No," I said. "He has reflection arrays on his armor. Your fire will bounce back. Go help Valerian."
"Okay!" Anya cheered. She pulled out her Fire Essence Hammer (the giant lollipop) and charged at Grom. "Hey, Big Ugly! Pick on someone your own size!"
Grom looked at the tiny girl charging him. "A child? Ha!"
He swung his hammer.
Anya swung her lollipop.
CLANG.
The sound was deafening. To everyone's shock, Anya didn't fly backward. She skidded a few feet, but she stopped the giant's blow.
"I'm strong!" Anya grinned, her eyes burning with Phoenix fire.
While the chaos erupted around us, Aethelred and I stood still in the center of the ruins.
"You have spirit," Aethelred sneered, floating down from his pillar. "But spirit is useless without foundation."
He thrust his rapier.
"Divine Art: Thousand Light Pierce."
He didn't move his arm. The space in front of him simply filled with a thousand beams of light, each sharp enough to pierce steel.
I didn't draw Antakala.
I activated Seal 1: War God.
Gravity Seal: 50x Release.
I moved.
To the audience, I vanished.
I weaved through the beams of light. I didn't block them; I dodged them by millimetres. The light singed my robes, but not my skin.
I appeared in front of Aethelred.
"Too flashy," I critiqued.
I punched him in the face.
BAM.
My fist connected with his nose.
Or rather, it connected with the Divine Barrier generated by his helmet.
A golden shield flared to life, absorbing the impact.
Aethelred flew back ten feet, landing gracefully. He touched his nose. He was unhurt, but he looked furious.
"You... you tried to punch me? With a mortal fist?"
He laughed. "My armor is invincible in this world! Nothing below the Saint Realm can scratch it!"
"Is that so?" I smiled.
I rushed him again.
Aethelred sneered. "Fool." He slashed his sword. "Holy Cross Slash!"
A cross of burning light flew at me.
I ducked under it. I got inside his guard.
I grabbed his left pauldron (shoulder armor).
'Technique: Heaven-Devouring Sutra.'
'Mode: Mana Drain.'
My hands glowed with black Void Qi.
The glowing runes on his shoulder armor flickered. The divine energy powering the defense array was suddenly sucked out.
Slurp.
"What?" Aethelred felt the energy drain. "What are you doing?"
"This armor requires a constant mana feed of 500 units per second," I analyzed rapidly. "If I interrupt the flow..."
I yanked.
SNAP.
The straps holding the pauldron gave way. I ripped the piece of Divine Rose-Gold armor right off his shoulder.
I jumped back, holding the shiny metal piece.
"Nice metal," I weighed it. "Ria! Catch!"
I tossed the armor piece toward the sidelines.
Ria caught it out of the air. "Material acquired. High-grade Divine Alloy. Suitable for smelting."
Aethelred stared at his bare shoulder. He stared at me.
"You... you stole my pauldron?"
"I'm going to steal it all," I promised. "The boots. The cape. That sword."
"You thief!" Aethelred screamed. His composure shattered. "I will incinerate you!"
He held his sword high.
"Secret Art: Descent of the Sun God!"
A massive ball of golden fire formed above his head. The heat was intense enough to melt the stone ruins around us. This was a Demigod-Level Technique, forcibly scaled down.
"Die!" He threw the sun at me.
It was a massive attack. Impossible to dodge.
I stopped smiling.
"Okay. Playtime is over."
I reached for the hilt of Antakala.
The black blade hummed. It sensed the Divine Energy. It was hungry.
'Seal 3: Sword Emperor.'
'Concept: Devour.'
I drew the blade.
SHING.
I didn't cut the sun. I cut the fuel of the sun.
A wave of black lightning erupted from my sword. It formed the shape of a dragon's maw.
The Dragon Maw flew at the Golden Sun.
CHOMP.
To the horror of the entire stadium, my black slash swallowed Aethelred's ultimate attack. The golden fire didn't explode; it vanished into the void of my blade.
I absorbed the energy.
My cultivation base—which had been stuck at the peak of Foundation Establishment—lurched.
Crack.
The barrier broke.
Core Formation: Reached.
A massive shockwave of Qi exploded from my body. I didn't form a Golden Core. I formed a Void Core—a black hole in my dantian that spun with terrifying power.
"Thanks for the meal," I said, my aura doubling, tripling in intensity.
Aethelred stood there, his sword lowered. He was trembling.
"You... you ate my technique? You broke through during a fight?"
He looked at my eyes. They were silver. Cold. Inhuman.
"You are not a student," Aethelred whispered. "You are a monster."
"I am the Chef," I corrected.
I appeared in front of him.
He tried to raise his shield.
I slashed.
CLANG.
Antakala cut through his divine shield like paper.
The blade stopped one inch from his throat.
But the force of the blow stripped him.
The shockwave blew his helmet off. It blew his chest plate off. It blew his cape away.
Aethelred stood there in his silk undergarments, holding a sword, surrounded by the scattered pieces of his "invincible" armor.
I grabbed his sword hand.
"I'll take this too."
I twisted his wrist. He screamed. The Lightbringer—the Quasi-Saint Sword—fell into my hand.
I kicked him in the chest.
Aethelred flew backward, crashing into a pile of rubble. He groaned, defeated, humiliated, and naked.
I stood over him, holding two swords.
"You lose, Pinky."
I looked over at the rest of the battle.
Grom was unconscious, beaten by Anya's hammer.
The other Iron-Blood warriors were tied up by Lyra's light chains.
The stadium was dead silent.
Then, Seraphina stood up in the VIP box.
She started clapping.
Slowly, the rest of the crowd joined in.
"AERTHOS! AERTHOS!"
Elder Sirius slumped in his throne. "He defeated a Prince... and robbed him blind."
I tossed Aethelred's sword to Ria.
"Add it to the pile."
I looked at the sky, where the portal to the Middle World was waiting.
"We won," I announced. "Pack your bags, team. We're moving up."