Blue Ran shouted as he advanced:
— "Go to hell!"
His hand transformed into an iron hammer, and he swung it toward Raiven's head.
Raiven ducked to avoid the blow, then raised his hand in the air and said:
— "Theft..."
In an instant, the void distorted and formed into a solid iron hammer—identical to Blue Run's—and it collided with it fiercely.
The sound of metal clashing echoed, and Blue Run staggered two steps backward.
Blue Ran said with a tone laced with astonishment:
— "So... you're possessed too?"
Raiven smirked mockingly:
— "And what concern is it of yours whether I'm possessed or not?"
Blue Ran replied sharply:
— "You rebels have been sentenced to annihilation. So why make things harder for us?"
Raiven laughed quietly and said:
— "If my fate were in your hands, do as you please...
But my fate is in my hands—
That's why I do as I please."
He suddenly lunged toward Blue Run, delivering a swift punch.
Blue Run responded with an iron punch, but before it reached him, Raiven muttered:
— "Theft…"
An iron fist erupted in front of him and collided with Blue Run's punch.
BOOM! The ground shook from the impact.
But Raiven didn't stop—he formed another punch and hurled it straight at Blue Run's face.
Boom.
It struck him, sending Blue Ran crashing onto his back.
Yet he quickly got up and retaliated with a powerful iron punch.
Raiven said:
— "Thef—"
But from Blue Ran's fist, a side punch suddenly shot out and struck Raiven before he could finish.
BOOM!
He took the hit and fell onto his back. Then he slowly rose, wiping blood from his face, a defiant smile on his lips.
On the other side of the arena, Reno was cornered, fighting against both Briley and Jack.
His hands were bleeding as he gripped his sword, fending off Jack's blade from one side and Briley's massive hammer from the other—while Briley's smile never left his face.
On the honorary platform, Lorin, Lebran, and Dorana sat in eerie calm, despite several people rushing toward them.
Lebran said:
— "Looks like someone was eagerly waiting for this opportunity... I wonder, what's their goal?"
Loren replied with a smile:
— "You're right. The moment the king stepped down, they seized the chance to launch this attack...
Lady Dorana, what do you think is the reason behind it?"
But Dorana wasn't listening. Her focus was entirely on Youray.
She spoke to herself:
"Everything started the moment that person entered the arena…
She had been watching Youray, because she felt like she had seen him before...
But where? She couldn't remember…"
Suddenly, she saw Youray looking toward the stands—at a specific spot where someone was sitting.
She turned to follow his gaze—and saw a young man sitting alone, staring back at Youray.
She couldn't make out his features clearly due to the distance, but her heart skipped a beat.
Suddenly, Mihon turned and looked directly at her.
In that instant, her heart pounded even harder.
Mihon stood up—and began descending toward the arena.
---
In the stands, the battle raged on.
Felix remained close to the queen, never leaving her side.
The princes prepared to fight—the black-cloaked attackers were far too powerful, and the knights struggled to hold them back, even with the commanders stepping in.
---
In the arena, the king turned to Lilar and said:
— "Are you the one behind this, you bastard?"
Lilar smiled and said:
— "Do you really think I'd rely on such weaklings?
If I wanted something, I'd do it myself.
These... are merely members of the Night's Awakening organization."
The king scoffed:
— "I know those scoundrels...
They never show themselves unless they're hired."
Then both of them turned toward the stands—where the battle was at its peak and chaos consumed everything.
At that moment, a man in a black cloak sneaked toward a locked chest near the First Prince.
Just as he reached for it—a powerful fist rose and struck him.
BOOM!
He and the chest were sent flying through the air, tumbling down.
The one who delivered the punch—was Felix.
The chest rolled, clicking as it moved, until it stopped in the center of the arena.
Standing before it was someone known to all...
The Fourth Prince.
He picked up the chest—and opened it.
At that exact moment, the black-cloaked assailants withdrew from the stands and descended, forming a circle around the Fourth Prince.
People were stunned.
What was happening?
The Fourth Prince pulled the concrete slab from inside the chest.
The king said in shock:
— "Driko? What are you doing? And why are they surrounding you?"
Driko—that was the name of the Fourth Prince.
The king's face darkened, and he spoke sharply:
— "Can't you hear me? I'm talking to you!"
Silence fell.
The fighting stopped.
All eyes turned to Driko, standing amidst the black-cloaked figures surrounding him.
Lilar burst out laughing:
— "So… that's how it is…"
Driko pulled a strangely shaped device from beneath his coat,
and placed it on the concrete slab.
The device emitted a white beam and began scanning the engraved writings.
Once it finished, he dropped the slab to the ground, then took the skull that had been inside the chest—and stared at it for a long moment.
Then he turned to the king, bowed slowly, and said:
— "I'm sorry…"
He lifted his eyes toward the queen in the stands—and saw her weeping at what was happening.
He saw her tears—and his own eyes filled with sorrowful tears.
Then he turned—and began to walk away.
At that moment, the king shouted again:
— "Stop him!"
The knight commanders rushed forward to block his path.
In the stands, Blue Ran and Raiven had resumed their battle—and it had grown even more violent.
Meanwhile, in the arena, the knight commanders clashed with the black-cloaked figures in a bloody confrontation.
On the honorary platform, the danger had subsided—temporarily—after the black-cloaked attackers withdrew alongside the Fourth Prince.
But the battle with Raiven's faction continued.
Some knights intervened, easing the pressure on Reno, allowing him to catch his breath.
And in the stands, Amis began descending toward the arena.
Lorin turned to him and called out:
— "Hey, Amis! Where are you going?"
Amis didn't answer.
He continued walking toward the arena—in silence.