The days slipped by in a blur until, at last, the day of the Crownspire Ascension arrived.
During that ti, Ethan had made incredible progress. His synergy with both Gray and Tenbris had reached new heights—so much so that he could confidently say he would crush his forr self in a heartbeat.
That growth alone proved he was on the right path.
His training wasn't confined to the Lancaster estate. He dove into multiple dens, testing his evolving skills.
While Tenbris hadn't evolved yet, he still pushed it as far as he could, driven by both challenge and purpose.
He also focused on maxing out his ta Essence, sothing he hadn't done since leveling up during the battle with Mirveil.
His current status read:
---
[Aethermark Interface]
Na: Ethan Cross
Rank: E (Forsaken)
Level: 3 (Warrior)
Ability Limit: 1 (Unlocked: 100 )
Abilities:
[Force Might]
[Vital Bloom]
[Withering Verdict]
[Chrono Pulse]
[Manifest Armant]
[????]
Innate Talent: Sanctum of Beasts
ta Essence: 150/150
Tenbris Evolution Counter: [728 / 10,000]
---
He could have pushed for more. Hell, he wanted to—hoping for another overflow like last ti—but things weren't as easy anymore. And now… the ti had co.
Ethan sat in his room when he heard a ding—a ssage popped up on his phone from an unknown sender.
The mont he opened it his eyes widened.
"Congratulations. You are a contestant in the Crownspire Ascension. The Ascension will begin in 5 minutes."
A counter sat beside it: 4:54… 4:53…
"What?" Ethan blinked. "How do I even get there—"
Another ssage appeared.
"All 32 contestants have been finalized. Here is the list."
Ethan scanned it, recognizing several nas—especially the ten Natasha had warned him about.
"Guess I owe her a real thank-you for the early list…" he muttered, scrolling through the rest.
Then he stopped.
One na caught his attention.
Sophia Lancaster.
"What's she doing here…?"
****
The list wasn't sent to contestants alone.
Because the Crownspire Ascension was one of the most prestigious tournants in existence—where the strongest of the generation would be revealed, and where even a Saint would be present—the list of participants was shared widely.
Clan masters, Ascendant and Overlord families, and top-ranking officials in the Hero Association all received it. Saints were beings of such magnitude that even the most powerful found it difficult to et them, making their attendance a rare and monuntal event.
But not only heroes got access to the list.
With a list this valuable spreading so far, it inevitably fell into the hands of villains as well. That was exactly why the Crownspire Association always released it at the very last mont—to avoid contestants becoming targets before the tournant began.
In a dim, silent chamber, a cloaked figure stared at the participant list. If Mirveil had been present, she would have instantly recognized him.
He was her master.
No words were spoken at first. The man's eyes lingered on one na: Ethan Cross.
"So," he finally murmured, "you've already co this far."
The device in his hand shattered under the force of his grip.
Then, as if dismissing the list entirely, he said coldly, "Let's move out."
He turned, his cloak brushing against the ground. Behind him stood fifteen Sentinels, identical to the monstrous one that had once fought Richard Lancaster.
Their destination: Tartarus.
Elsewhere, in the office of the Green Serpents, Vice-Leader Lyon Tusk glared at the sa list, frustration etched into his face.
"How the hell did he make it this far already… to be selected for the Ascension?" he muttered, clearly referring to Ethan. "This complicates things."
Suddenly, his vision blurred—his mind pulled into a ntal space.
As he Knelt instantly and bowed his head.
"I greet the Master."
Before him stood a man cloaked in shadow, white-haired and red-eyed, his gaze suffocating despite his total stillness.
His re presence felt like a mountain pressing down.
The man spoke:
"Sapar has gone to Tartarus to clean up the ss his agent left behind. That leaves you for this mission."
Lyon dared not move, dread building in his chest.
"The boy, Ethan," the master said, voice deathly calm, "must be eliminated. We cannot allow him to earn the favor of the Saint."
Lyon's heart pounded. 'Kill Ethan? At the tournant? With a Saint watching? That's suicide…'
Almost as if reading his thoughts, the master added:
"You won't go alone. I will deal with the Saint while You handle the rest."
Lyon's breath hitched. 'He's… getting involved himself?'
That revelation alone sent chills down his spine. 'Why? What happens if the Saint really chooses him? Is master afraid that what the boy possess will fall into the hands of the saint.'
But no answers ca.
Only a final command:
"Be ready for the signal."
Then, Lyon was violently thrown out of the ntal space—back into his office, body drenched in sweat.
He exhaled… then chuckled.
And that chuckle turned into mad laughter.
"Sorry, Ethan," he whispered. "Looks like you'll be reuniting with your family a lot sooner than you thought…"
****
Sophia stared at the list, her eyes locked onto one na.
Ethan Cross.
She had been selected as a contestant for the Crownspire Ascension, but even if she hadn't, she still would've seen the list.
After all, she ca from an Overlord family—access like that was guaranteed.
But status didn't matter right now.
Only one thought filled her mind.
She stood up abruptly, disbelief etched across her face.
"How is this possible?" she muttered.
She knew Ethan was strong—incredibly so. But to be chosen for Crownspire Ascension? That was sothing else entirely.
This wasn't just any tournant. It was a proving ground for heroes who had built their legends—those with years of experience, high levels, and world-shaking achievents.
Compared to them, Ethan's feats would seem like child's play.
But…
No one had done what Ethan had in just two months since awakening. No one had grown at his pace.
Not even the most gifted elites from Ascendant or Overlord families.
She opened her mouth, about to ask the question gnawing at her mind—Why would Ethan be chosen?—when suddenly the tir on the screen struck:
00:00
And the Crownspire Ascension began.
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