Chapter 45: [45] Exposing the Fraud
The atmosphere in the Celestial Arena was thick with suffocating tension.
The millions of aristocratic spectators who had spent the entire day mocking Arthur were now locked in a terrified and breathless silence.
The brute had not just punched his way to the finals.
He had dominated a master mage using their own sacred magic. He perford it
with an effortless perfection that bordered on the divine.
Arthur Sterling stood in the center of the vast and scorched marble arena. His dark coat shifted slightly in the wind.
He looked entirely bored.
Across from him stood Prince Valerius.
The golden boy of the Celestial Court looked nothing like the arrogant aristocrat from the waiting room.
His immaculate starlight armor was humming violently. His handso face was
twisted into a mask of desperate and cornered fury.
He had watched Arthur erase a spell with a whisper. He knew his standard Celestial arts would not be enough.
"You will not humiliate !" Valerius shrieked. His voice echoed across the stadium.
"I am the chosen champion! I will claim the Origin Font and I will erase you from existence!"
"Stop pitching the product and show
what you have got." Arthur goaded smoothly. He kept his hands in his pockets.
Valerius let out a guttural roar. He abandoned all pretense of elegant and
heavenly magic.
His golden aura violently shattered. It was replaced by a sickening and pulsing black and purple miasma.
The air around the Prince grew instantly freezing. It reeked of rotting ozone and pure malice.
Gasps of horror erupted from the stands.
"Void Magic!"
"By the Creator, he is using the forbidden arts!"
"The Prince is corrupted!"
Up in the highest Imperial Box overlooking the entire arena sat the Celestial Emperor.
The ancient and dying star in humanoid form leaned forward.
His glowing and featureless face was entirely unreadable. However, the sudden drop in temperature indicated his absolute displeasure.
Down in the arena, Valerius did not care about the exposure. He was entirely
consud by the need to win.
The Void Magic surged through his veins and twisted his handso features into a
demonic snarl.
He lunged forward and moved at a speed that left a trail of corrupted shadows in
his wake.
"Void Art: Soul Shattering Strike!" Valerius scread.
A massive blade of dark energy ford around his arm as he swung it directly at
Arthur’s neck.
Arthur did not dodge. He just looked at the incoming attack with profound and utter disappointnt.
"You call that abyssal energy?" Arthur muttered. "It is diluted. It is weak. It is a cheap knockoff."
Arthur did not draw his sword. He did not use the Words of Creation.
Instead, he reached out through the invisible and conceptual tether connecting his soul to the highest tier of the spectator stands.
’System.’ Arthur commanded in his mind. ’Tap the Bound Consort link. Open the
floodgates to Morwenna.’
[Notification]
?? Channeling Bound Target: Morwenna.
?? 10,000x ROI Multiplier Amplifying True Abyssal Aura.
Up in the stands, disguised in her drab servant robes, Morwenna violently gasped.
Her back arched and her liquid gold eyes flew wide open as she felt the massive
and intimate pull on her soul.
Her Emperor was not just draining her.
He was actively channeling her core. He was pulling the absolute and concentrated essence of the True Abyss through their bond and amplifying it by ten thousand.
A violent shudder of pure euphoria ripped through the Demon Empress.
Her fangs bared in a feral and panting grin. Her legs were trembling so hard she had to lean against the stone pillar to keep from collapsing.
He was using her power to slaughter. It was the most intoxicating sensation she had ever experienced.
Down in the arena, Arthur’s right hand shot up. He caught Valerius’s Void blade barehanded.
"CRACK!"
The kinetic shockwave leveled the surrounding marble.
But the blade of dark energy did not cut Arthur. It simply shattered against his palm.
Valerius froze. His eyes bulged in absolute terror.
His ultimate and forbidden attack had been stopped by a bare hand.
"Let
show you." Arthur whispered.
His voice dropped into a demonic and vibrating frequency that made the very
bedrock of the arena groan.
"Let
show you what the real Abyss looks like."
Aura exploded from Arthur’s body.
It was not the stolen and corrupted Void Magic Valerius wielded.
It was pitch black and absolute destruction.
It was the True Abyss refined by a ten thousand multiplier into a pressure so
dense it began to crack the protective barriers shielding the audience.
Arthur squeezed his fist.
"Squelch!"
He did not just crush the energy blade. He crushed Valerius’s hand within it.
The Prince let out a bloodcurdling scream. He dropped to his knees as the bones
in his hand were pulverized into powder.
Arthur did not stop there.
With a casual and brutal flick of his wrist, he drove his knee directly into Valerius’s chest.
"BOOM!"
The impact shattered the Prince’s starlight armor entirely.
Valerius was launched backward. He tumbled across the scorched marble like a
broken ragdoll.
He left a trail of blood and shattered pride in his wake.
He crashed into the arena wall entirely incapacitated.
His corrupted Void aura was thoroughly extinguished by the sheer and overwhelming dominance of Arthur’s power.
The stadium was locked in a suffocating silence.
Arthur stood over the broken Prince.
The terrifying Abyssal aura faded back beneath his skin. It left him looking
like a perfectly calm and ordinary man in a dark coat once again.
He looked up. His gaze bypassed the terrified audience and locked directly onto
the Imperial Box.
He locked eyes with the Celestial Emperor.
The Emperor did not summon his guards. He did not scream for Arthur’s execution.
Slowly and deliberately, the massive and glowing entity stood up from his throne
and raised a hand.
A small and intricately carved golden token materialized in the air.
It floated gently down into the center of the arena.
It was the Token of the Origin Font.
Arthur stepped forward and caught it out of the air.
He did not bow. He did not offer a word of thanks.
He just offered the Celestial Emperor a cold and knowing smirk. He tucked the ultimate prize into his pocket.
The hostile takeover was right on schedule.
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