The Celestial Sect arena no longer resembled an arena.
It had become a continent.
Formations expanded outward, ancient runes lighting the perimeter as stone platforms merged into a sprawling battlefield of uneven terrain—cliffs, broken pillars, elevated ridges, shallow craters left from previous clashes. The barrier Jin had erected shimmered faintly above it all, layered over the Celestial Sect’s own defenses.
Every remaining competitor stood within.
Every survivor of the first round.
Every genius who had already proven they belonged.
And at the highest platform, Jin Valentine watched with quiet amusement.
Below him, the Five Demons stood together one last time before the storm.
Kaelaric Ashborne.
Seraphine Veyra.
Dorian Blackvein.
Nyx Elowen.
Ashara Lune.
The announcer’s voice thundered.
“Final Round — Royal Battle!”
A murmur surged through the crowd like a rising tide.
“All versus all!”
“No restrictions!”
“Victory belongs to the last standing competitor!”
A pause.
“Previous round victories will add to final contribution rankings.”
Meaning—
Even if one fell now, their earlier dominance would matter.
But only one name would stand at the end.
The Five Demons exchanged glances.
Then—
Seraphine stepped forward.
“We forfeit,” she said calmly.
The arena went silent.
The announcer blinked. “The Heavenly Demonic Sect forfeits?”
Dorian crossed his arms.
“Four of us do.”
Nyx smiled faintly.
“One is enough.”
Ashara’s lips curved.
Kaelaric said nothing.
Stolen story; please report.
The announcer swallowed.
“Confirming… only Kaelaric Ashborne will represent the Heavenly Demonic Sect in the Royal Battle?”
Elder Wu chuckled softly from behind Jin.
“This is going to be interesting.”
Lysandra, arms folded, nodded. “Yeah. It will be like that.”
Kaelaric stepped forward.
His halberd rested against his shoulder.
He did not look at his fellow demons.
He simply walked into the battlefield.
Alone.
The announcer raised his hand.
“Begin!”
The battlefield erupted instantly.
—
A tidal wave of qi exploded outward.
Firestorms collided with thunder spears.
Star fragments rained like meteors.
Martial artists shattered stone with bare fists.
Poison clouds spread.
Illusions overlapped.
The barrier trembled under the force of simultaneous genius-level combat.
Kaelaric did not move at first.
He stood at the center ridge, observing.
Three competitors rushed him immediately.
“Take down the demonic one first!”
Smart.
A spear user lunged from the left.
A lightning cultivator descended from above.
A beast-tamer released a spectral tiger from the right.
Kaelaric exhaled.
His halberd swung once.
The arc of execution intent cleaved the spear in half.
He pivoted—his elbow crushed the lightning cultivator’s sternum midair.
He stepped forward—
And bisected the spectral tiger with a vertical slash.
Three opponents fell in less than five breaths.
The battle did not slow.
It intensified.
Hours passed.
The sun shifted overhead.
Cracks deepened across the battlefield.
Blood stained stone.
Laughter echoed from some corners—true geniuses enjoying themselves.
This was what they lived for.
Clash after clash after clash.
The Starlight Sect’s remaining disciple dueled a martial artist atop a shattered pillar.
A poison cultivator attempted to ambush Kaelaric only to be kicked unconscious before deploying their toxin.
A blade master from the Shadow Sect forced Kaelaric into a brief exchange—steel ringing against halberd—before being knocked out by a brutal shoulder check that dislocated his arm.
The crowd roared endlessly.
“This is madness!”
“They’re fighting like saints!”
“Look at the demonic one—he hasn’t slowed down!”
Indeed—
Kaelaric’s breathing remained steady.
His eyes calm.
Each strike efficient.
No wasted motion.
As the numbers dwindled, alliances briefly formed.
Three competitors from different sects surrounded him atop a crumbled plateau.
“You can’t handle all of us,” one said.
Kaelaric rotated his halberd once.
“Try.”
They attacked simultaneously.
The plateau shattered under the force.
Dust engulfed them.
When it cleared—
Two lay unconscious.
The third stumbled backward—
And Kaelaric’s halberd blade stopped at his throat.
The competitor swallowed and raised his hands.
Yield.
Kaelaric lowered his weapon.
He did not pursue unnecessary blood.
He executed only when required.
—
High above, Jin watched quietly.
Esdeath lay comfortably in his lap.
His crimson pupils faintly rotated.
“Good,” he murmured.
Elsewhere in the stands—
The camera shifted.
Among the roaring crowd sat an old man.
White beard cascading down his chest.
Simple gray robes.
No aura.
No visible qi.
Beside him, a young man leaned forward excitedly.
“That boy from the demonic sect is so cool!”
The old man stroked his beard.
“You know…” he said slowly, “if you think about it, his head is a little bit bigger than yours.”
The young man blinked.
“…Old man, I’m watching the match.”
He didn’t look at him.
“And who even are you?”
The old man nodded sagely.
“If you think about it—”
“Old man, shut up.”
The old man smiled faintly.
And watched.
His eyes gleamed for the briefest moment.
—
Back on the battlefield—
Only twelve competitors remained.
Breathing heavy.
Injured.
Sweat mixed with blood.
Kaelaric stood at the center of a crater.
Six bodies lay scattered around him.
A martial artist cracked his knuckles.
A fire cultivator ignited both arms.
A star disciple summoned one last constellation.
They all knew.
He was the biggest threat.
They attacked together.
The battlefield became a storm.
Fire collided with star beams.
Martial fists shattered stone.
Kaelaric’s halberd cut arcs through the chaos.
He took hits now.
A star beam grazed his shoulder.
A fist slammed into his ribs.
Flames scorched his armor.
Blood dripped down his arm.
But his expression never changed.
Execution intent deepened.
One by one—
They fell.
Until—
Only three remained.
Kaelaric.
A martial artist.
A lightning cultivator.
The final triangle.
The Royal Battle raged on.
And the sun began to set.
