Three days had passed since the names began to shine on the energy screens like new constellations. Three days in which the echoes of impossible feats still floated through the halls of the School of the Archangels. And now, at last, the 1,865 aspirants who had passed the first trial found themselves gathered once more… not in the training arena, but in the very heart of power: the Celestial Stadium, sacred center of the Celestial Gardens.
There they stood. In unbreakable rows, they formed an ocean of young warriors, each with fire in their eyes and the future burning in their fists. Above them, the heavens gleamed like a living dome, and the floating islands traced a solemn dance over the multitude. The stands, overflowing with thousands of spectators, vibrated with the excitement of a new era beginning to be written.
A colossal screen—a curtain of liquid light suspended in the air—projected faces, names, moments of glory. Each spark of that projection was a promise, or a warning.
And then, all gazes turned to the grand balcony. The Imperial box.
The high throne of power.
There, beneath the imperial shield of the Celestial Gardens, rose the titans of the present era. In the center, majestic, stood the King of the Celestial Gardens: Valerius Noxaurum Blackgold. Of athletic bearing, dark skin hardened by combat, and intense green eyes like warlike emeralds, he was more than a king: he was a living legend, one of the five Legendary Warriors. His black gold armor, a metal reserved only for those of royal blood, gleamed with authority. Upon his head, a black crown without ornaments, austere symbol of a lineage that needed no jewels to be feared. His red cape billowed to the ground like the shadow of a storm.
Among the ranks, Aelius Bekkart looked up. And his eyes—normally serene, almost clinical—shone with a different spark. It wasn't admiration. It was resentment. Abhorrence polished by years of secrets. Valerius's mere presence made old chains rattle in his soul.
At his side, like a bastion of balance, stood Alistair Bekkart, Supreme Minister of the Celestial Gardens, adoptive father of Aelius, Makia, and Ian. His countenance was a mixture of wisdom and restraint. To his right, Rhygar, grand master of the Archangel Fortress, watched with crossed arms and his crimson cape billowing to the rhythm of silence.
And then, the sky seemed to weigh a little more.
Because at the center of the balcony appeared a living shadow.
Aurelius Noxaurum Blackgold.
The emperor's older brother. Valerius's father. Former king of the Celestial Gardens. He rejected the imperial title, and then the throne of the heavens. Not for lack of merit, but because his soul belonged to war. His name was legend and curse at the same time. At nearly sixty years old, his body seemed carved from granite, with muscles of steel and a presence that crushed like a mountain. His skin was a light brown tone, green eyes like those of the Noxaurum, but laden with an ancestral weight.
He wore fitted black armor made of black gold, without cape or ornaments. He didn't need them. Each of his footsteps was like the rumble of thunder. It wasn't strength that was felt… it was death advancing.
When he appeared, the stadium froze. An icy silence fell over the public. Even the bravest felt their skin crawl. Some swallowed without realizing it, throats dry from a fear they couldn't explain. Others averted their gaze, as if meeting his eyes was too costly a daring. His pressure was pure terror, a wave of death that enveloped without touching. He wasn't a man. He was a judgment that walked.
From the aspirants' ranks whispers were heard:
"Is that the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army? Aurelius Noxaurum Blackgold."
"It's Grandpa!" Makia said in a thread of a voice.
He had been Alistair's master since his youth, and for that reason the Bekkarts considered him their grandfather, including Ian, Makia, Alena, and Aelius. And also Sofia.
"Why are they so afraid of him?" Ian murmured, frowning. "He's a loving idiot… I don't understand why everyone's trembling."
Kael, for his part, could barely believe it: coming from the dark zone and standing before these colossi, among kings, emperors, and legendary warriors, seemed like an impossible dream.
Aurelius's nicknames spoke for themselves:
The Life-Render.
The War Hammer.
The Emissary of Death.
The Blood Shadow.
And that day, the shadow walked upon the light.
In contrast, appeared the Grand Emperor Tiberius Noxaurum Blackgold, with a different energy, equally powerful but without death's edge. He was close to fifty years old, with an imposing and attractive appearance, deep brown skin, and green eyes that radiated serene dominion. His presence didn't instill fear… it commanded absolute respect.
The Noxaurum Blackgold were the royal family of the Great Empire, simultaneously occupying the thrones of the Great Empire and the Celestial Gardens, though the title of Grand Emperor remained in the imperial capital.
His armor was also of pure black gold. His red cape dragged the echo of his power. And upon his forehead rested a black crown, equally simple, equally imposing.
Before taking his seat, Tiberius raised a hand with serene elegance and discreetly waved toward the public. But it wasn't a general greeting. It was directed, precise. His gaze crossed with Aelius's, and with an almost imperceptible gesture, he rendered him a silent recognition.
Aelius responded with a warm, contained smile, laden with respect, but beneath that serenity, an indissoluble knot of contempt still beat.
The public, seeing the gesture, believed the Grand Emperor had greeted everyone. And in an instant, the stadium erupted in cheers.
Beside him, his wife: Astrid Stormdottir, the empress, wore neither armor nor imperial cape. She wore a black dress of Viking cut, elegant and fitted to her body as if the fabric obeyed her will. A cape of black feathers descended from her shoulders like raven wings. Her hair, red-orange, fell like a cascade of liquid fire, undulating with each movement. Her skin, pale as eternal ice, seemed sculpted in frozen marble. Her eyes, of glacial blue, didn't look at the present… they saw the threads of destiny before they were woven.
The public was left speechless before her majestic beauty; many murmured among themselves, unable to look away.
And when she sat beside her husband, she took Tiberius's hand with solemn calm, as if that gesture—so simple, so silent—were a sacred act.
It didn't only seal an alliance of empires. It was also a bond of love.
To her left, another imposing figure claimed respect by right and by blood:
Eirik Stormson, King of Valkarheim, the northern Viking nation, independent but strong ally of the Great Empire. And also Astrid's father. Of wild and majestic appearance, unruly beard, steel eyes, and fiery orange hair, he wore heavy armor without ornaments, as if war were his true garment. His crossed arms were like tree trunks, and his presence evoked thunder before the storm.
Before any announcement began, from the corridors at the back, emerged another figure who twisted the course of silence: one of the seven sovereigns of Vaelor.
Vaelor was a colossal continent, annexed to the Great Empire, like the Celestial Gardens. Despite its immense size and internal political autonomy, the seven countries that comprised it—Tarkov, Tianwa, Tantahar, Qadiris, Olympus, Khamara, and Jivana—answered to the imperial throne, though each with its own ruler.
And of those seven kings, only one was present that day: Kleominsa Raa, the only queen without a king, without a husband, without equal. She reigned over Tantahar, a sacred and ancient nation, forged among scorching deserts, mystical monuments, and colossal mines.
The public also reacted with astonishment at her exotic and imposing beauty, some instinctively bowing, others murmuring in admiration.
In the midst of her sacred lands, she saw Ian. She didn't know who he was. She didn't know his name. But upon seeing him, it was as if the universe stopped so she could look at him. Makia noticed and felt a knot in her stomach: jealousy mixed with surprise seeing how the queen of Tantahar observed him.
Aurora, in the distance, thought:
"That boy… has something that makes him stand out, even among all these powerful figures. His gaze is… intense. Impossible to ignore."
Ian frowned slightly. He didn't understand the intensity of that imperial gaze.
He turned with a puzzled grimace toward Makia.
"Why is the queen of Tantahar looking at you like that?" she whispered, without taking her eyes from the scene.
"I have no idea," Ian responded, frowning. "Maybe she noticed my potential… and wants to fight me."
Makia looked at him, open-mouthed.
"Ian, that's not the face of someone wanting to fight…"
"Then what is it?"
From the shadows of the upper corridors, a Monarch General made his entrance.
His name was Auron Celestis. A man of about fifty years. His presence was a monument to temperance, and he was Aurora's father. He wore Titanochrome armor and a blue cape that hung to the ground from only one shoulder, his face was furrowed not by wrinkles, but by the youth of war, and his gaze was as penetrating as it was kind.
Where Aurelius instilled fear like a storm, Auron commanded respect like a lighthouse in darkness. His power was light. His presence, peace. The public received him with genuine reverence.
But that reverence transformed into repulsion in seconds. Because another of the Monarch Generals appeared: Kraven Cold Blood.
Over fifty years old. Armor of a rusty red, dirty with marks. His smile was a wound. His eyes, two empty pits. His skin seemed pale and viscous, as if humanity had seeped out of him long ago.
Where Aurelius was noble death and Auron justice, Kraven was rot with rank.
Under the Supreme Commander of the Imperial Army, Aurelius Noxaurum Blackgold, the Monarch Generals were the ten most powerful warriors of the entire imperial army. Each of them commanded their own squadron, and their mere presence was enough to impose absolute respect. Auron and Kraven, already deployed before everyone, embodied the lethal force that sustained the Empire, living pillars of its dominion and feared even by the bravest.
And then, as the atmosphere tensed with the presence of those colossi, something unexpected happened.