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Chapter 11: Flames in the Arena
The Tournament Grounds of the Milon Empire were a sacred place—carved from celestial stone, forged under the gaze of three emperors, and bathed in the blood of warriors for over a thousand years.
Here, heroes were born.
And monsters were noticed.
Thousands roared in the crowd as the Tournament of Stars officially began. Nobles, sect masters, royal bloodlines, foreign emissaries—all gathered to witness the youth of the empire battle for glory.
This year's prize?
A Heaven-Tier Artifact.
A personal audience with the Emperor.
And the chance to earn a star-level promotion under imperial sanction.
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Somewhere Far from the Arena…
High atop the Blackwind Fortress, Kael Elvador, Duke of the Milon Empire, stood beneath a sky riddled with silver clouds.
His long hair swayed, and the hilt of the Demon-Slaying Sword gleamed faintly.
A crystal floated before him—showing a live image of the tournament.
Suzan stood at the entrance gate, his hands in his coat pockets, quiet as ever. Cold eyes. Relaxed posture.
"He does not belong in that crowd," Kael murmured.
A quiet presence appeared behind him.
Rath, dressed in black armor stitched with red lightning runes, bowed.
"He walks among sheep, my Lord."
Kael's gaze remained fixed.
"No. He walks among wolves who think they are lions."
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Flashback – Suzan at Age 8
Suzan sat in the courtyard reading a book about martial souls. The other nobles his age were practicing magic or sparring with wooden swords. He simply read.
The instructor grew angry.
"Your father is the Sword Demon Slayer, yet you read like a coward. Fight, or be punished!"
When Suzan remained silent, the instructor raised his whip.
It never landed.
Rath had been in the shadows that day, watching.
Later that night, the instructor's body was found on the empire's border. His death was ruled an "accident during beast training."
Kael never said a word.
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Flashback – Suzan at Age 11
Bandits had raided a caravan Suzan was in, hoping to capture nobles for ransom. Suzan had been knocked unconscious.
Before they could escape with him, a hundred crows descended.
The sky blackened.
Not a single scream was heard.
Only feathers… and blood.
Suzan awoke safely in his room. No one told him how he returned.
Kael stood in the shadows that night, watching him sleep.
> "My son must never know the fear of dying without a blade in his hand," Kael whispered.
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Present – Arena Grounds
The first rounds were one-on-one elimination matches.
Suzan's opponent was a 5-Star Wind Mage from the noble Ventor Clan. Fast, flashy, arrogant.
The moment the bell rang, the mage summoned a storm of razors—hundreds of wind blades whirling around Suzan.
The crowd leaned in. Some laughed.
"He's not even forming a defense."
"Is he stunned?"
But inside the ring, Suzan whispered softly:
> "Devour."
His shadow shifted.
A black claw emerged from beneath him, grabbing the storm and crushing it like paper.
The crowd gasped.
The mage staggered back. "What—what are you?!"
Suzan's eyes glowed violet. His Dark Soul flickered behind him, forming a tall, cloaked silhouette.
Then came the Sword.
It hovered above Suzan's shoulder—serene, silent, pulsing with silver aura.
One step.
Suzan appeared before the mage.
One strike.
The mage's armor cracked. His barrier shattered.
And he dropped like a puppet with cut strings.
Suzan didn't look back as he left the ring.
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High Seats of the Arena
Foreign dignitaries murmured.
"That wasn't natural."
"His soul is—abnormal."
"Too clean. Too… hungry."
From the VIP balcony, a man in golden robes narrowed his eyes.
The Emperor of Milon leaned forward, intrigued.
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At the Imperial Tower That Evening
Kael sat in a hidden chamber of obsidian. Only Rath was with him.
"He's attracting attention," Rath said quietly.
"They will come for him now," Kael replied. "Let them."
Rath hesitated.
"He is not like you, my Lord. He is… colder."
Kael looked away, pain flickering in his sharp eyes.
"I gave him no warmth. What else should he be?"
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Later That Night – Suzan's Quarters
Suzan stared at the ceiling, feeling the residue of the devoured soul still swirling inside him.
Each enemy he defeated… he absorbed. Not just their strength. But echoes of their fear. Regret. Despair.
> "You will lose yourself one day," the system whispered.
> "Unless you devour everything."
But Suzan wasn't afraid.
He didn't want to be saved.
He wanted to understand.
Why was he sent here? Why did he possess this system?
And above all…
Why did his father never claim him?
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Meanwhile – Beneath the Capital
In a dark ritual chamber, a council of hooded figures stood around a giant mural.
At the center: A golden throne with two swords crossed behind it.
The mural pulsed with red light.
One figure stepped forward.
> "The boy has awakened. The System has bound to him."
> "Just like it did to the First Devourer…"
Another voice growled, ancient and deep.
> "The Sword Demon Slayer has already made his move. His boy must not live past the final round."
> "Then let us test the child. Release him."
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In the Arena – Next Round
Suzan entered the stage again. This time, his opponent was a quiet, silver-haired youth with one eye covered and a jagged scar along his neck.
His aura… felt empty.
> "My name is Krell," he said softly. "Don't hold back. I won't."
The match began.
Krell disappeared.
Suzan barely ducked in time as a black needle flew past his ear.
He summoned his Sword Soul. Krell laughed.
> "Nice sword. Let's see if it bleeds."
The crowd gasped as Krell vanished and reappeared like a ghost, stabbing from impossible angles.
Suzan felt it—this one had killed before.
And he wasn't from the empire.
This was an assassin.
The match wasn't a match.
It was an execution attempt.
Suzan grinned.
"Finally."
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Next Chapter Tease: Hunter and Hunted
> As Suzan engages Krell in a brutal battle of shadows and steel, secrets unravel: Who really controls the empire's throne? What does the Emperor know about Suzan's origin? And what was the true fate of Suzan's mother—who was declared dead at his birth?
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