Ezmelral, perched in the veil of time, tilted her head in confusion, her voice cutting through the ethereal silence. "Why would she surrender?" she asked, her brow furrowing as she studied the scene below.
Raiking offered no immediate reply, his expression unreadable—a rare mask that piqued her curiosity further. His silence drew her gaze back to the arena, where Ezmelral's lookalike mirrored her question, stepping forward with a measured tone. "Why do you choose to surrender?"
Caeruleus stood tall, her luminous form shimmering with the ocean's grace, and answered boldly, her voice ringing with honesty. "I came here to seek the GodKing's blood."
A sudden crack of static announced Shona's arrival as he vaulted onto the stage beside the GodKing, a playful smile dancing on his lips. "Why, am I not so lucky?" he quipped, his five arms relaxed yet poised, his tone teasing the air with mischief.
The GodKing remained silent, his helmeted gaze fixed ahead, unperturbed by the jest. Meanwhile, Ezmelral's lookalike overheard Shona's words, her mind racing through her studies—the oceanic species' traits, their biology—until realization struck her like a thunderbolt.
"YOU!" she exclaimed, barely restraining the outburst that threatened to unravel her composure. Quickly regaining her poise to preserve her image, she calmed herself and asked with deliberate clarity, "Caeruleus, do you love the GodKing?"
"Love!?" Ezmelral shouted from the veil, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she ducked lower, mortified by her own outburst.
Caeruleus met the lookalike's gaze unflinchingly, her voice steady. "Since you've deduced why I seek his blood, you must know my species doesn't view procreation through mortal lenses."
"Procreation!?" Ezmelral's voice squeaked again from the veil, her hands flying to her face in a futile attempt to hide her shock.
Ezmelral's lookalike paused, her mind sifting through the tomes she'd devoured—recalling how oceanic species, in their act of intercourse, sap their host's blood, blending it with their own in the womb to create offspring. For them, strength reigned supreme above all else; love, connections, feelings—these were weaknesses they scorned, liabilities to be purged.
She pressed further, her voice measured. "If that's what you sought, why surrender now?"
Caeruleus's gaze grew distant, her mind returning to the Void Realm. She had seen it—the unspoken bond between the GodKing and his disciple, a connection that resonated with an intuition deeper than sight. It whispered of layers upon layers, of a relationship that might very well defy the cosmos's strictest laws. And with the GodKing, she mused, such rumors were never just rumors.
Aloud, her voice rang clear and resolute. "It would not be right for me to seek an heir now."
Confusion washed over both Ezmelrals—one in the veil of time, her brow furrowing in bewilderment, the other in the arena, her poised stance wavering for a fraction of a second. Before the silence could deepen, a sudden ripple broke the stillness. One of Caeruleus's Elders flowed onto the stage in a shimmer of liquid silver, her bioluminescent patterns flaring with sharp, indignant light.
"Caeruleus, this is not fair to you!" the Elder began, her voice a torrent of protest. "After all you sacrificed in the trials—"
Caeruleus raised a hand, a gesture as calm and final as a stilled tide, cutting off the words.
Ezmelral's lookalike stepped forward, her tone calm but insistent. "Please, let her finish."
The Elder's gaze hardened, her words spilling forth with painful clarity. "A bloody contest was held to determine who was worthy to compete. Caeruleus... you bloodied your own stainless, divine feathers battling your own kin for this chance—for the hope of a powerful heir."
In a blur of motion that defied perception, the GodKing stood before Caeruleus. He placed a single finger upon her forehead, and her memories unfolded before him—visions of a brutal selective tournament, of sacred feathers stained crimson not by an enemy, but by the desperate struggle against her own people to secure a future for them all.
He channeled his Essence into her, a warm, golden light seeping from his touch. When he withdrew, Caeruleus felt a profound surge of vitality, her shimmering form revitalized as if decades of weariness had been washed away.
"I may not grant your wish for an heir," the GodKing stated, his voice unwavering, "but I can grant you time. Another thousand years of life—enough to find a worthy spouse and secure your legacy."
The Elder dropped to her knees, her voice breaking. "Thank you, GodKing!"
But Caeruleus herself remained silent, her face an unreadable mask of oceanic serenity. Her amber eyes, however, held the GodKing's helmeted gaze, searching for a meaning behind the mercy she could not yet name.
Into that charged silence, Shona stepped forward.
"And I surrender as well," he stated, his voice carrying the quiet weight of a decision long considered.
Ezmelral's lookalike turned to him, surprise softening her features. "You too?"
A faint, knowing smile touched his lips. "We are friends. And I am your master's nephew. Did you truly think I wouldn't know what winning this title means to you?" His gaze grew distant for a moment, filled with the warmth of a fulfilled promise. "Besides... I already received my wish long ago."
In that moment, Shona stood not just with pride, but with a profound sense of closure. When he had entered the tournament, he was a man chasing a shadow—a version of himself he thought he needed to become to prove his worth in the cosmos. But in chasing that shadow, he had forgotten the shape of his own.
He was the Commander of the GodKing's army.
That was not just a title he had been given;it was the man he had chosen to be. That promotion was not just the granting of a wish, but the recognition of a truth he had already forged in battle and in loyalty. Winning or losing here would not redefine him. He had already arrived.
With the matter settled between warriors, the Keeper of Time and Fate stepped forward. The air stilled as golden sands swirled around her form. She raised a hand, and silence fell like a blanket.
"The winner of the tournament," her voice resonated, a clear chime that seemed to etch the verdict into the fabric of reality itself, "is the GodKing's Disciple."
For a heartbeat, the crowd hesitated—stunned silence blanketing the arena where cheers had once thundered. Then, scattered applause broke through, hesitant but sincere. Many had yearned for the promised clash between the three strongest contenders; instead, fate had chosen a quieter conclusion. Yet few could deny the spectacle they had witnessed—the defeat of a Void General, a feat few Entities could boast.
That single act eclipsed any mortal contest. It elevated the GodKing's Disciple beyond mere victory—her potential unmistakable, her mastery unquestioned. The murmurs that once doubted her worth dissolved into reverence, her name now whispered with the quiet awe reserved for legends in their making.
High within the Veil of Time, Ezmelral turned to Raiking, eyes bright with both admiration and inquiry.
"Was this the GodKing's grand design all along? Fifteen years… for my lookalike?"
Raiking inclined his head slowly, his expression a blend of solemn respect and approval.
"The GodKing believes the Void's brood are no mere wanderers—they are the Cosmic Will's hounds, unleashed to test creation's resolve. And the Elders?"
His gaze deepened, crimson eyes reflecting the echoes of strategy.
"They are the gatekeepers of stagnation—snuffing out potential before it can blaze."
Ezmelral's breath caught as understanding dawned, her voice a soft whisper.
"Two birds, one stone…"
Raiking's faint smile carried the gravity of truth.
"He removed both chains in a single motion—protecting the spark before it can be extinguished."
Then, unexpectedly, warmth pressed gently against her shoulder—a familiar touch she had not felt in weeks. Before she could turn, the veil around them shimmered, threads of golden time folding inward like ripples in still water.
A pulse of light enveloped them, and the world shifted.
When the haze cleared, they stood before Planet L'uminix—the reborn world of her lookalike. The twilight sky cast the land in soft hues of violet and gold, and below, the once-scarred surface now glowed with new life, forests rising where ash had fallen, oceans gleaming like molten glass.
Ezmelral's breath trembled in quiet wonder, a rare stillness settling over her. For the first time since entering the veil, she felt the faint hum of peace—a gentle pulse that seemed to resonate from the planet below, soothing the chaos of her thoughts.
Raiking broke the silence, his voice low and measured. "Now, it's time for the second part of the Orb of Reincarnation plan."
"Second part?" she asked, her curiosity reigniting as she turned to him.
He nodded, his crimson eyes reflecting the planet's glow. "The first was its reveal to the supreme beings. Now, it's to prove a new system can replace the old."
"And L'uminix will be that stage?" she ventured, piecing together the grand design.
He inclined his head in agreement. "Indeed."
"Does he have so much faith in his disciple?" she wondered aloud, marveling at the trust placed in one mortal's shoulders.
"If not his disciple," Raiking replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride, "then who else can he entrust with his faith?"
Ezmelral fell silent, her mind turning inward—what a heavy burden—as she watched the scene unfold below. The GodKing, the Keeper of Balance, and her lookalike materialized on L'uminix's surface, their steps steady and purposeful as they advanced. The GodKing raised his arm, the Orb of Reincarnation manifesting in his palm with a soft, holy glow, drifting into the air like a beacon of hope.
The true trial of her lookalike's planet was about to unfold before their very eyes—a crucible where destiny would be forged or shattered.