While surprise and anger roiled through the room, Aron remained oblivious, as none of it had been conveyed to him by Liasas. She found herself at a loss, uncertain how to proceed. The moment he presented his demands, the mental network had descended into chaos, leaving her grappling with the turmoil unfolding within it.The scene within the mental network was a stark contrast to Aron’s calm demeanor. Anger boiled over, with most participants venting their frustrations freely, no longer holding back. However, three groups remained conspicuously silent amid the uproar. The Xor’Vaks were quiet, having already accepted the empire’s audacious demands. The Valthorins, bound by their unyielding pride, refused to stoop to complaints, maintaining a dignified silence. Lastly, the Zelvora stayed composed, both due to their mental discipline and because, in the broader context of demands, what had been asked of them was relatively insignificant. Much of their racial abilities were public knowled
After about seven hours, Liasas finally opened her eyes and began speaking. “The Xor’Vak have agreed to all of your demands. However, they added that if you fail to back up your arrogance, you will pay the price for daring to invoke their leader’s name without the strength to justify it,” she said as soon as she noticed Aron was already listening to her.“We don’t have a problem with that. What about the others?” Aron responded without hesitation, his voice steady and decisive. A smile crept across his face—one he didn’t bother hiding—making his satisfaction unmistakably clear.“As for the others, your demands can be agreed upon, but many require additional clauses and modifications,” Liasas repeated, pausing to gauge Aron’s reaction.“Let’s hear what their modification demands are and see if we can accommodate them,” Aron responded calmly, his tone steady. He wasn’t rushing the discussion, knowing that every detail had to be considered before deciding.“The Valthorins” Liasas began,
The agreement was signed swiftly, as all protections and potential exploitations had already been settled before the main demands were presented. The swearing of the mana oath and the signing of the mana contract were completed within an hour of reaching the agreement. This quick resolution led them directly to the next phase: determining the format of the fight and defining what constituted a majority win.“How are these fights conducted in the Conclave?” Aron inquired of Liasas.“It typically involves two individuals battling to the death or until one side concedes defeat. While there are usually some restrictions on the weapons each side can use, there are no limitations on an individual's abilities. These fights are generally held on land, and I doubt you’ll allow us to enter the star system for these confrontations?” she explained, noting that this format was primarily practiced by the Vlathorins and the Xor’Vak, though others occasionally engaged in similar fights, as permitted
With the agreement signed, construction of the arena began, creating a surreal and contradictory scene. Civilizations that were still officially at war found themselves working side by side on a shared project, while other sections of their fleets stood idle, maintaining a tense standby posture in case one side gave in to the temptation to strike.The mana oath and runic contract ensured compliance, but they were not preemptive barriers—they only enforced punishment after a violation occurred, not for the intent. Although the penalties for breaking the agreement were severe, the potential destruction that could be unleashed in the moments before those consequences took effect was something neither side could afford to ignore. As a result, both sides remained cautious, prepared for any sudden betrayal.The selection of the asteroid was completed swiftly, and it was soon pulled from the remnants of its disrupted orbit—a casualty of the black hole bomb that had marked the war’s violent b
By the third week, the construction of the Colosseum was finally completed, and the remainder of the week was devoted entirely to testing to ensure everything met the necessary standards. Both sides pushed every available system to its limits, stress-testing the arena’s components, shielding, and environmental controls.This wasn’t just about verifying functionality; it was also a matter of trust—or the lack thereof. Both sides were highly suspicious of one another, meticulously scanning for any hidden backdoors or subtle sabotage. No one wanted to risk the possibility of a sudden disadvantage due to an exploit or unseen manipulation. Both sides scrutinized every circuit, magic circle, and protocol, working tirelessly to confirm that nothing had been tampered with and that the arena was truly neutral ground.While the systems were being tested, Liasas met once again with the negotiator to finalize and deliver the list of contenders, a requirement that had to be fulfilled before the co
As time marched forward, the long-awaited day finally arrived. For many viewers across the Conclave, the anticipation was mixed with confusion and curiosity. The empire had not altered its decision—Emperor Aron Michael remained their sole representative. Despite the risks, they had not added additional contenders as a contingency, even in the event of his defeat or incapacitation during the many matches he will have to participate. This bold choice stirred countless reactions. Some saw it as arrogance, others as unwavering confidence, while a few viewed it as sheer madness. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the emperor's lone participation left no room for error. All eyes were now focused on the Colosseum, waiting to see if this risky strategy would result in triumph—or disaster.Outside the shimmering shields of the Colosseum, massive ships from each contending civilization hovered in position, their hulls gleaming under the light of distant stars. Each vessel carried within it a c
"I hope at least the body survived," Aron muttered, eyes locked on the slowly dissipating mushroom cloud.As he said that, the gun he still held began to crack, fractures spreading like a web over its surface. A second later, the entire weapon crumbled in his grip, the pieces disintegrating into fine dust that blew away in the wind. Aron glanced at his now-empty hands, his expression briefly turning into a frown before vanishing as quickly as it appeared."It seems I overloaded it with more mana than it could handle," he mused quietly to himself.The weapon had been a specially crafted magic gun—an attempt to allow him to use magic in conventional forms, much like his wife did. His own magic abilities were limited to rune-based applications, and he had wanted to avoid relying on them for this fight. The gun's intricate design had combined several magic cycles into a single, complex magic circle: a fire cycle to create destructive energy, a compression cycle to concentrate it, a flight
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMAron stared at the massive explosion he had created, the remnants of his latest attack churning in a mushroom cloud. But rather than savoring the apparent victory, he muttered, “It worked four times. I should be happy with that,” his gaze locked on the shifting scene ahead.Before him, the mushroom cloud split in two, rapidly dissipating under immense air pressure, revealing the figure at its core. A winged fighter emerged from the chaos, unscathed and brimming with power. Though the massive wings hovered behind the warrior, they weren’t physically connected, adding an eerie quality to the figure’s presence. The armor encasing him shimmered in perfect synchronization with the ethereal wings, both sharing the same dark, metallic hue.Without hesitation, the Feryn fighter shot forward, moving with such speed that it would only take him a few seconds to close the distance to Aron, clearly intending to finish the fight swiftly. Aron cl