Chapter 251: The Aftermath and The Hidden Truth
Then, his gaze swept over the Heather and Beacon delegations.
"In fact..." Lynx drawled, his voice dripping with arrogance, "since we’re making special conditions... why stop at Void? I’ll fight Heather’s top representative and Beacon’s top representative, too. All of them."
King Oberon’s mouth fell open. "What did you just say?"
"You heard me," Lynx grinned. "Heather, Beacon, and Void. Bring your strongest headmasters, commanders, or champion fighters. I’ll fight all three empires back-to-back."
Headmistress Freya of Heather stared at Lynx as if he were a ghost. "You are courting death, boy."
"Maybe," Lynx chuckled. "But I have my own condition."
Emperor Malakor sneered. "And what could a schoolboy possibly demand from three sovereign empires?"
Lynx leaned his hands flat on the stone table, his voice dropping into a deep, chilling register that echoed like a divine decree.
"When I win," Lynx said, his heterochromatic eyes glowing with absolute, terrifying light, "I demand the unrestricted right to establish my personal religion across all three of your empires. Full freedom to build temples, recruit believers, and spread my faith without your government interference."
"WHAT?" King Oberon shouted, jumping out of his chair. "ESTABLISH YOUR OWN RELIGION? Are you completely out of your mind, boy?! You are asking for sovereign ideological control over our lands."
"He’s crazy." Headmaster Alden gasped. "He’s a lunatic!"
"He is an arrogant bug!" Vane snarled.
Amelia looked at Lynx, her brain stalling for a second before she suddenly understood his play. A slow, dark, utterly magnificent smile spread across her bloody-red lips.
Amelia stepped forward, slamming her hand on the table once more, her white eyes sweeping over the rival rulers with absolute, mocking arrogance.
"You heard him!" Amelia declared, her voice ringing loud and proud across the sanctum. "If you are forcing an eighteen-year-old boy to step into a death-match against Transcendent and Eternal-rank warriors just to sign a simple tournament treaty... then you will agree to his terms! Or else you can pack your things, get the hell out of this empire, and we will enforce the four-year decree by force without your consent! Try us!"
King Oberon glared at Amelia, then at Lynx, his face twisting with intense frustration. "Amelia, this is preposterous."
"Agree or leave!" Amelia barked, her aura flaring dangerously. "Choose now!"
Emperor Malakor looked at Lynx, a dark, murderous calculation passing through his eyes.
An eighteen-year-old boy, no matter how talented, could never survive a back-to-back death match against a Transcendent Headmaster and an Eternal Commander.
The condition was meaningless because Lynx would be a corpse before the sun set on the duel.
"Fine!" Emperor Malakor agreed, a wicked grin spreading across his dark face. "Void agrees. If you survive, you may spread your pathetic religion in our lands."
Empress Seraphina exchanged a tense look with Headmistress Freya before sighing heavily.
"Heather agrees."
King Oberon gritted his teeth, knowing he was completely trapped by Aether’s absolute dominance. "Beacon agrees."
Lynx’s grin widened into something truly magnificent.
"Great," Lynx said, casually cracking his knuckles. "Oh... I have one last tiny detail."
"What now?!" Malakor snapped.
"The fighting stage," Lynx smiled smoothly. "I know this match will be live-streamed across all four empires so your citizens can watch me die. But during each fight... I want the battle arena sealed under an absolute, multi-layered spatial isolation barrier. No outside intervention, no spatial escapes, and complete internal privacy for the combatants until one side is dead."
Emperor Malakor and Headmaster Vane looked at each other, their dark eyes lighting up with vicious, cruel delight.
’He wants the arena sealed?!’ Vane thought, almost laughing out loud. ’The fool is digging his own grave! With a sealed spatial barrier, not even Amelia or Allister will be able to step in and save him when Commander Kael tears his heart out!’
"Agreed!" Malakor stated instantly, afraid Lynx would back out if he hesitated. "The fighting stage will be completely sealed under a dual-Eternal spatial isolation barrier! It will be a true, absolute death match!"
"Perfect," Lynx smirked, his eyes flashing with a hidden, terrifying gleam. "It’s a deal."
The high-sovereign treaty documents were finalized within the hour.
With the conditions set and the death-match scheduled to take place at the Imperial Grand Colosseum in three days, the foreign delegations quickly prepared their departure.
Emperor Malakor and Headmaster Vane cast one final, murderous glare at Lynx before stepping through their deep purple spatial portal, followed closely by the Heather and Beacon groups.
The heavy spatial pads dimmed, the portal mists dissolved, and the grand obsidian sanctum finally fell into absolute, heavy silence.
The massive roundtable sat littered with cracked marble and dust from the earlier explosive standoffs.
Only four people remained in the vast, quiet chamber. King Allister, Saintess Celestia, Headmistress Amelia, and Lynx Azarion.
Saintess Celestia adjusted her long white silk sleeves, stepping gracefully toward Lynx.
Her divine, golden eyes searched his face, filled with a mixture of gentle concern and complete, utter bewilderment.
"Lynx..." Celestia’s soft, melodic voice echoed gently in the silent room. "Why did you do that? Why did you accept a duel against a Transcendent Headmaster and an Eternal Commander? And why demand the right to spread a new religion in their lands?"
Lynx slowly leaned back against the edge of the obsidian table, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
He looked at the Saintess with a lazy, playful smile, his heterochromatic eyes sparkling.
"Well, Saintess," Lynx drawled smoothly, "a guy’s gotta have hobbies, right? Winning tournaments gets boring after a while. I thought starting a religion sounded like a fun weekend project."
Celestia blinked her glowing golden eyes, completely thrown off by his breezy, unbothered answer. "A... a weekend project? Lynx, you are talking about challenging ancient, high-tier combatants! You are risking your life!"
"Am I?" Lynx grinned softly, tilting his head. "Or am I just taking what’s mine? Besides, if I build a few temples in the Void Empire, I might even invite you to cut the ribbon at the grand opening."
Celestia let out a soft, helpless sigh, though a faint, genuine smile touched her divine lips as she shook her head. "You are truly an impossible young man, Lynx Azarion. Fate twitches every time you speak."
King Allister stood up from his iron seat. He adjusted his heavy navy-blue coat embroidered with golden dragons, his golden sigil pulsing with quiet, majestic power. He walked slowly across the polished floor, stopping right in front of Lynx.
The King of the Aether Empire was a towering, imposing figure, but as he looked down at the eighteen-year-old boy standing before him, his golden eyes carried a complex mix of deep respect, intense calculation, and genuine awe.
"You handled yourself well today, boy," King Allister spoke, his voice deep, metallic, and heavy with authority. "You stood before Emperor Malakor without flinching, survived his aura shockwave, and turned their dirty trap completely against them."
"Just doing my job, Your Majesty," Lynx replied smoothly, offering a respectful, casual nod.
Allister reached out, placing a heavy, black gloved hand on Lynx’s shoulder, giving it a firm, solid squeeze.
"Do not underestimate Commander Kael or Headmaster Vane," Allister advised sternly, his eyes locking onto Lynx’s heterochromatic gaze.
"Void fight dirty. They will use forbidden soul-poison, spatial hexes, and hidden artifacts inside that sealed arena. But... if you truly possess the strength to crush them..."
Allister paused, a rare, proud smirk touching his lips.
"...then wipe them out completely. Show the continent why the Aether Empire stands supreme."
"Consider it done, Your Majesty," Lynx smirked back.
King Allister gave Lynx one final, deep glance, a look that acknowledged Lynx not just as a student, but as a sovereign-tier monster in the making, before turning on his heel.
With a flash of golden light, the King materialized into a spatial step and vanished from the sanctum.
Saintess Celestia offered Lynx a soft, graceful bow of her head. "I shall pray for your victory in the Holy Temple of Goddess Shiva, Lynx. Be careful."
"Thanks, Saintess Celestia," Lynx smiled. "Save a front-row seat for yourself at the Colosseum."
Celestia chuckled softly, her white robes fluttering as she, too, stepped into a soft pillar of white light and vanished, leaving only Lynx and Amelia in the ruined, dusty sanctum.
Silence stretched between them.
The floating golden crystal above cast a warm, dim light over the two of them.
Amelia stood leaning her hips back against the edge of the stone desk, her dark coat draped over her shoulders, her massive bust rising and falling with her quiet breath.
Her pupil-less white eyes watched him with a mix of intense wariness, deep pride, and undeniable fascination.
Lynx pushed off the table and walked slowly toward her, stopping mere inches away. His tall, six-foot-two frame towered slightly over her 5’11 height, his heterochromatic eyes locking onto her white ones.
"You know, Headmistress," Lynx murmured, his deep velvet voice dropping into a smooth, intimate register, "you were magnificent today."
Amelia raised a dark, perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "Oh? And here I thought you were too busy flirting with the foreign kings to notice me."
"I noticed," Lynx smiled softly, his Eternal Charm washing over the narrow space between them like an intoxicating wave. "The way you slammed your hand on the table, threatened to freeze King Oberon into an ice cube, and stood right in front of me when Malakor lost his temper... you looked like a terrifying, beautiful empress protecting her man."
Amelia’s breath hitched slightly. A sudden, deep pink flush dusted her pale, porcelain cheeks, though she quickly straightened her posture and glared up at him.
"I was protecting my academy’s asset, you arrogant brat," Amelia corrected sharply, though her voice lacked any real bite.
"If you died in this room, I would have had to do three months of unbearable diplomatic paperwork to explain it."
"Right, right. Paperwork," Lynx chuckled, taking a subtle step closer, his chest almost brushing her heaving bust. "Keep telling yourself that, Amelia. But I saw the way your eyes flared when Malakor tried to touch me. You care about me."
Amelia’s white eyes flickered. "You are testing my patience again, Azarion."
"I told you," Lynx grinned, his face mere inches from hers, his breath brushing her bloody-red lips,
"I’m just getting started. When I crush Vane and Joseph in that sealed arena in three days... what are you gonna give me as a reward? A real kiss? Or that lap dance we talked about?"
Amelia blinked once. Twice.
Her internal composure, shattered completely under his shameless, relentless audacity.
"You... absolute... menace!" Amelia growled.
CLACK!
In a blur of motion, Amelia’s black-gloved fist shot forward, driving a fast, mana-infused punch straight into Lynx’s jaw.
The impact made a sharp thud echo through the quiet sanctum. Lynx’s head snapped back slightly, and a fresh, tiny droplet of crimson blood welled up from his left nostril, tracking a slow line down toward his lip.
Amelia pulled her fist back, her face flushed dark pink, her bloody-red lips curving into a slow, breathtaking, and thoroughly amused smile that lit up her dark aesthetic features.
"Win your match first, boy," Amelia purred softly, her white eyes burning with quiet, undeniable fondness. "Then we’ll talk about rewards."
Before Lynx could drop another flirt, Amelia’s body dissolved into a silent, swirling cloud of dark purple smoke.
Swish.
She vanished completely from the sanctum, leaving only the lingering, sweet scent of ozone storm and dark coffee hanging in the air.
Lynx stood alone in the quiet, ruined room.
He didn’t look angry. He didn’t look pained. Thanks to his Primordial Healing, the faint ache in his jaw vanished instantly, and the single drop of blood on his nose evaporated cleanly away into perfect skin.
Lynx reached up, touching his chin where her glove had just struck him, a wide, cocky, devastatingly handsome smirk spreading across his face.
"Three days," Lynx whispered softly to the empty sanctum, his heterochromatic eyes sparkling with cold, silver light. "Time to go crush an empire."
Blink.
His body shimmered out of existence, leaving the grand royal sanctum empty and silent beneath the golden crystal light.