On Origin Planet No. 881, the tension was thick enough to choke on. The impending clash between Illidan and Anthelme held the realm in a vice-like grip, but it wasn't merely the inhabitants of the local world who watched with bated breath. Across every corner of the vast cosmos, ongoing skirmishes and planetary conflicts brought themselves to a silent, unspoken halt. From humble, newly awakened Planetary Lords to titan-tier Level 6 powerhouses, every pair of eyes was riveted on this upcoming match, the absolute zenith of the younger generation's raw power.
Deep within the infinite, chaotic depths of the Warp, one stood as one of the most monstrous Daemons born in endless ages. The other had claimed the ancient, untamed inheritance of the First Emperor, positioning him on a direct trajectory to become the realm's next successor.
From the Star Palace and the Empire to the Eagle Alliance, the Thirteen Organizations, and the Council of the Stars, every faction, great and small, had its gaze locked tightly upon this unassuming world.
"This battle is monumental! Whoever triumphs will deliver a crushing blow to the opponent's morale!"
"Neither side can afford defeat. Even if the overall strength of our enemy hangs in the balance, a loss for Illidan in a duel of the youth will devastate their entire strategic push!"
"If Anthelme falls, the spirit of our coalition will plummet into the abyss."
"He won't fall. Anthelme cannot lose."
"Oh? You sound so certainty personified."
"Have you forgotten? He claimed the legendary inheritance of the First Emperor! You know precisely what that portends for his true capability."
"A fair point, yet underselling Illidan is pure folly."
"It is difficult to forecast. The opposition certainly knows about the First Emperor's legacy, meaning he comes fully prepared for an absolute slaughter."
"Say what you will, my money remains firmly on Illidan."
"Indeed. Look at it from any angle, he has no path to defeat!"
Across the cosmos, legendary figures debated the outcome with intense fervor, weighing every metric of power between the two young titans. The overwhelming consensus favored the Emperor's Son, not merely out of factional loyalty, but due to the sheer, awe-inspiring weight of the ancient inheritance he carried.
Deep within the chambers of the Council of Stars, high-ranking members conducted their own spirited deliberations.
"What a tragic shame," Sabrina murmured from atop her grand throne. She let out a quiet sigh, gently shaking her head. "If Sebastian had only been granted another four or five years to grow, no, even two or three would have sufficed, he could have easily stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Anthelme and Illidan. His timeframe was simply too cruel, but war waits for no man."
Beside her, the old butler bowed his head in quiet agreement. "If our side triumphs, all remains well. But should we suffer defeat, I fear these promising young talents across the cosmos will be forced into a bitter, wandering exile."
Yet, despite the earth-shattering weight of the matchup, not every power in the cosmos was captivated by the spectacle. Take the Ancient Protoss, for instance. A white-bearded elder reclined lazily inside a serene, open-air pavilion, casually sipping fine wine while watching a hovering projection of Planet No. 881.
"Anthelme versus Illidan? A 'Peak Showdown'?" He scoffed with utter disdain, rolling his eyes at the screen. "They call this a pinnacle match? Are these fools blind to the true monster walking among them, the boy breaking trial records left and right?"
He shook his head dismissively. "How could either of those two even begin to compare?"
To the old master, the so-called ultimate prodigies were entirely beneath his interest. Having traversed countless stellar domains over an uncounted lifespan, he had heard the grand title of 'Strongest Genius in History' thrown around until it lost all meaning. He had seen far more terrifying, incomprehensible anomalies than these two children, neither of whom would even make his personal ranking.
"Boring," the elder muttered, taking another lazy draft from his flask. "Rather than watching those two trade blows, it's vastly more entertaining to see what impossible tricks young Sebastian pulls from his sleeve next."
Meanwhile, the hierarchical discipline of the Daemonic vanguard was absolute. Because Illidan served as the supreme field commander, the other young leaders, including elite commanders like Eric, bowed their heads in deep, respectful deference.
"You performed admirably out there, Eric," Illidan remarked as he approached with a smooth, composed smile.
Though both shared common origins, a vast gulf separated their status. Illidan was born the privileged son of a high lord, groomed for greatness from his very first breath. Eric, conversely, hailed from a common Daemonic lineage, clawing his way up the ranks through sheer tenacity and blood-stained effort.
"In the end, I lost," Eric replied softly, his posture stiff.
"It matters not," Illidan said, offering a reassuring pat on his shoulder. "You succeeded in forcing Anthelme onto the field, and that credit is yours. Though..." Illidan paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "He feels somewhat lacking to me. It's that Sebastian who truly piques my curiosity."
"Sebastian!?" Eric blinked, taken aback by the declaration. "He warrants your personal attention?"
"The species he developed and those unique weapons he deploys are fascinatingly peculiar," Illidan murmured, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It is a pity he is merely a newcomer. Given just a few more years, he might have been a worthy opponent for me."
"Do not drop your guard against Anthelme," Eric warned earnestly. "The rumors are true; he possesses the complete legacy of the First Emperor!"