The crowd murmured with approval. Two unknowns against two curious heavyweights.
They stepped onto the dueling stage. The platform's edge lit with a ring of blue energy, sealing them in.
This chapter is updated by Novel~Fire. (n)et
Shae-Luren gave Veyra a small, coy smile. "Try not to cut too deep, dear. I dress."
Veyra responded by drawing a thin crimson blade made of condensed energy.
Vaen didn't draw anything. He simply knelt, placed a hand to the ground, and whispered a phrase in a tongue older than stone. Green tendrils of essence swirled around him, roots forming symbols beneath his feet.
Asher cracked his knuckles, already beginning to glow faintly with layered energy, subtle and dense.
The Spiremaster raised his hand.
The platform exploded into motion.
Shae-Luren vanished into mist and reappeared beside Veyra with claws of shadow dancing around her fingers. Veyra blocked, pivoted, and slashed—each movement fast and elegant. Their duel took the form of a waltz, each blow flowing into the next.
Meanwhile, Vaen called forth massive thorned vines from beneath the dueling floor, trying to trap Asher.
Asher raised a palm. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
His aura surged outward—a wave of pale power laced with a subtle gold hue. He twisted between the roots, slashing with a single blade formed from raw will, severing the vines mid-motion.
Vaen blinked. "Interesting."
"You haven't seen anything yet," Asher replied, vanishing in a burst of speed.
The battle raged beautifully. The onlookers watched in rapt attention—not just for power, but for grace, timing, and instinct.
Veyra and Shae-Luren exchanged blows with increasing speed, their battle becoming more vicious with each pass. Shae-Luren even summoned mirrored versions of herself, illusions formed from shadow and pain.
Veyra responded by clearing the field with a sweeping horizontal arc of bloodlight that disrupted illusions and drove Shae back, if only slightly.
Meanwhile, Asher and Vaen locked again—this time midair, as vines formed platforms and roots lashed like whips. But Asher remained slippery, adapting to every rhythm.
Eventually, the Spiremaster raised his hand.
The duel ended in a draw—but both sides looked far from disappointed.
The crowd applauded—not wildly, but with that slow, respectful clap of cultivators who'd seen true skill.
Asher stepped back beside Veyra, offering her a fist bump.
She smirked and returned it.
Shae-Luren walked past them with a low whistle. "I'll remember that, blood-blade girl."
Valeris, watching from the side, offered no smile—but her eyes showed faint approval.
More names were called. More duels played out—less intense, some more showy than practical.
As the next pair took the stage, Asher and Veyra stepped off the dueling platform, drinks quickly handed to them by attentive attendants. The banquet resumed its soft, elegant rhythm—conversations continuing, music resuming in the background, though now with an unmistakable undercurrent of tension and interest. They had made their impression.
Valeris approached them shortly after, the Stellar Vault monk at her side still catching his breath.
"Well," she said smoothly, "you didn't embarrass yourselves."
Veyra smirked. "You mean we outshined you."
Valeris didn't rise to the bait. "We'll see who outshines who when the main event begins."
Asher took a sip from his cup and said casually, "Main event?"
Valeris gave him a knowing look. "Don't be naïve. You think they're not watching for candidates? Probing our strength? This isn't just for fun. There's always something more going on in a place ."
Every so often, Asher could feel it—powerful eyes resting on them for just a moment too long. Conversations paused as their names were mentioned in hushed tones. The Spiremaster himself seemed pleased, speaking with other elder figures at a raised corner of the hall where the city's highest-ranking Evolvers congregated. These were not the sort of people to be impressed easily.
And yet they were watching.
Asher set down his drink. "Let's mingle again before another duel starts."
Veyra raised a brow. "You planning to scout potential threats?"
"No," he said with a half-grin. "Just curious who else thinks they're strong."
They rejoined the hall, this time moving through the crowd slower. People nodded in greeting now, even those who hadn't acknowledged them earlier.
A tall man with ice-pale hair and silver eyes introduced himself as Kaiven of the Frostspire Domain. "Impressive footwork," he said to Veyra. "We don't often see blood-based martial styles mixed with such precision."
A pair of twin sisters from the mirrored Flame-Eye Clan approached Valeris, each speaking in perfect unison. "You carry the scent of something ancient," they said. "Are you by chance a priestess?"
Valeris smiled coolly. "Something like that."
Nearby, Asher was intercepted by a young woman clad in moonsteel armor and bearing a strange sigil across her throat. "I am Lira of the Shattered Vault," she said simply. "I came here to find someone worth following."
Asher looked at her curiously. "And did you?"
She gave a faint nod. "I'm still watching."
More conversations followed—some cordial, some probing, others full of layered meaning. Everyone here had a history, a goal, and a hidden edge.
Just as they were mingling, the Spiremaster once again raised his hand and said, "Now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the next event of our little banquet—the World Auction."
The crowd clapped in anticipation.
"Finally," muttered Vaen as Asher leaned toward him and asked, "What exactly is this World Auction?"
Vaen responded quietly, "It's the real reason everyone attends this banquet."
Asher frowned slightly. "So this is the finale?"
Vaen nodded. "Yes. The Spiremaster personally presents several mysterious and powerful items. Each one is rare enough that any World Ranker would be willing to fight for it. This… this is the main event. And the reason why even the most dangerous individuals bother to attend."
The hall dimmed slowly, the warm lanterns replaced by silver-white overhead lights that shone down in a perfect circle at the center of the ballroom. A low hum filled the air—not of machines, but of ancient formations activating.
The grand banquet hall shifted before their eyes.
Tables slid seamlessly into the floor. Dance spaces retracted, replaced by ascending platforms forming a crescent around a central dais. Floating seating arrangements appeared in tiers along the walls, giving everyone a clear view of the stage now forming below.
In the very center, a circular pedestal rose from the marble floor. Gleaming black crystal floated above it, refracting strange runes and faint images into the air.
Valeris narrowed her eyes. "Spatial restructuring matrix. Impressive."