The silence that followed Matthew Benric's announcement was not a peaceful one; it was the heavy, suffocating silence of a grave before the dirt starts falling. The leaders of Division 1, 7, 8, and 9 stood frozen, their faces varying shades of pale and livid purple. They looked like statues of men who had just watched their entire world-view get pulverized by a single word.
Victus, the man who had walked toward the scroll with the arrogance of a king-to-be, was now shaking. His face was no longer that of a proud noble; it was a mask of twisted, vein-popping fury. He lunged forward toward Matthew, his boots slamming against the marble floor with a sound like cracking bone.
"Matthew! You old senile bastard!" Victus roared, his voice cracking with desperation and rage. "What the fuck is this? How the hell can this nobody, this... this pestilence from Division 7 become the leader? He didn't even put his goddamn name on the ballot! This is a fucking farce! This is treason against the laws of Ashburg!"
Matthew Benric, who had been standing in a state of mild shock himself, felt his patience snap. He was a man of the old world, a Phase 5 Master who had seen more blood than Victus had seen wine. He didn't like being shouted at by a child playing at politics.
"Victus," Matthew whispered, a sound that carried a lethal edge.
Suddenly, Matthew's aura exploded. It wasn't a gradual rise; it was a violent eruption of Phase 5 Middle-Stage pressure. The air in the Chamber of Verdicts turned to liquid lead. The gravity tripled in a microsecond.
CRACK.
The floor beneath the feet of the lesser cultivators shattered. The council members and the other division leaders were slammed into the ground, their knees hitting the marble so hard that the sound of snapping patellas echoed through the hall. They grovelled, gasping for air, their lungs feeling like they were filled with hot needles.
Only two people stood unfazed.
Rayn and Vespera.
Rayn stood there, his hands in his pockets, a manic, jagged smirk playing on his lips. He felt the Phase 5 aura washing over him, and to him, it felt like a pleasant summer breeze. Beside him, Vespera didn't even blink. Her golden dragon eyes were fixed on Matthew, a mocking glint within them. To a Dragon from 300 Million years, the "pressure" of a human cultivator was a joke.
They both laughed. A dark, synchronized chuckle that sliced through Matthew's oppressive aura like a hot knife through fat.
"Hey, Victus," Matthew growled, ignoring the two monsters who were laughing at him. He glared down at the kneeling, trembling Victus. "Just because you're my old friend's son doesn't give you the right to bark at me like a mangy cur. I don't give a fuck who your father was. You talk to me with that tone again, and I'll peel the skin off your face myself. Now shut the fuck up. I will explain the Mandate after I address the citizens."
Down in the plaza, the "Man in Black," Alucus, felt his blood run cold. He had seen the blue light of the scroll. He had heard the name.
"Rayn."
The name felt like a curse. Alucus fumbled with his jade artifact, his fingers slick with sweat. He activated the signal, his voice a frantic whisper.
"Sir... Thomas... do you hear me?"
"Speak," the voice of Thomas hissed from the jade. "The noise from your end is deafening. Did Victus take the seat? Did that arrogant prick finally secure the town?"
"Sir... Victus lost," Alucus stammered, his eyes fixed on the balcony above.
"What the fuck did you just say?" Thomas's voice turned into a low, predatory growl. "Then who? Did that motherfucker Freddy win? Did he somehow pull a miracle out of his ass?"
"No, sir. Freddy lost. Everyone lost." Alucus swallowed hard, his throat feeling like it was full of glass. "The new leader... the Sovereign of Ashburg... is a kid named Rayn. He's the newest member of the Spectre team."
"WHAT!?" Thomas roared, and the jade artifact vibrated with his fury. "Victus told me only four leaders were participating! How does a goddamn stray dog take the crown from the wolves? Alucus, explain this shit right now!"
"Sir, I... I don't have the info," Alucus cried, looking up. "I've lived here for years, and this kid has been here for less than a month. He's done the impossible. Please, give me time. I need to find Victus. I need to learn how we got played."
Alucus cut the signal, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. He looked up at the balcony. There, standing with one leg perched on the marble railing, was Rayn. From this angle, Rayn looked like a demon perched on the edge of the world. His white hair whipped in the wind, and his scary, blood-red eyes seemed to look directly through Alucus's soul.
Alucus felt a primal, gut-wrenching terror. He realized then that he wasn't looking at a lucky cultivator. He was looking at a predator that had just eaten an entire city.
Matthew Benric stepped to the edge of the balcony, holding a massive, silver-etched artifact that looked like a dragon's horn. He raised it to his lips.
"THE NEW LEADER OF ASHBURG IS RAYN! OF DIVISION 7!"
The sound didn't just carry; it shook the foundation of every building in the city. In the quietest corners of the town, elder men and women who had hidden in their homes for decades—people who remembered the "Old Ways"—heard the name and let out raspy, bitter laughs. They knew. They understood that the wheel had finally turned.
Rayn stepped forward, his presence eclipsing Matthew's. The old man tried to hand Rayn the horn, but Rayn waved it away with a dismissive flick of his wrist.
Rayn took a deep, shuddering breath. To the onlookers, it looked like he was just preparing to speak. But to a master, it was terrifying. Rayn was drawing in every scrap of Ki in the surrounding environment. The air around the balcony turned into a vacuum as he sucked the energy into his lungs, converting it through his Collection Power into a specialized form of Sound Magic.
"PEOPLE OF ASHBURG!"
Rayn's voice wasn't a shout; it was a physical force. It hit the crowd like a shockwave, making people stagger back. It echoed through the alleys and into the sewers.
"I am pleased that you chose the right path! You voted for the only man willing to do what is necessary! Every vote you cast is a contract written in blood! I will make every one of them worthy! I will give you the 'Extermination' I promised! We are going to make this town a fortress, and I don't care who I have to slaughter to make it happen!"
The crowd went insane. It wasn't a cheer; it was a roar of fanatical devotion. They had been oppressed by the "Four Divisions" for so long that they would follow a demon if he promised to kill their masters.
Back inside the chamber, as the roar of the crowd continued, Victus finally found his voice. He was still on his knees, his eyes bloodshot with hate.
"Old man... Matthew... you can't do this," Victus hissed. "The rules of the founding... the laws of the four chairs... you're breaking everything my father built!"
Matthew looked down at him with a gaze of pure pity. "I know the rules better than you, Victus. I helped write them with your father while we were standing in piles of Sterling corpses. You think your father became the leader because he was 'elected' by a committee? You're a fucking idiot."
The other division leaders, Kalix and Vennise, leaned in. They, too, were hungry for the truth.
"Listen well," Matthew said, his voice dropping into a historical resonance. "Sixty years ago, there was no 'Ashburg' and 'Sterling.' They were one city, ruled by the Great Sterling Family. They were cruel, decadent bastards. They treated us like cattle. They taxed our breath and killed our children for sport."
The air in the room grew cold as the history of the town's blood-soaked birth was revealed.
"Your father, Dawinton, and I were just twenty years old. We were members of the original Division 1. Our leader back then... the man who is the ancestor of the current Division 2 leader's father... he was the Sovereign. But he was a puppet for the Sterling nobles. He was a warmonger. He wanted to show his power, so he started a war that nearly wiped us out."
Matthew looked at Rayn, then back at Victus.
"We started a rebellion. We were outmanned, outgunned, and almost killed a dozen times. But your father understood something that you clearly don't, Victus. He understood that the law is only a suggestion unless the people back it. He invoked the 'Mandate of the Unbound'—a secret clause that allows a non-candidate to take the throne if the people demand it with a ninety-percent majority."
Victus's jaw dropped. "What...?"
"Yes," Matthew smirked. "Your father stole this town from the Sterling family using the exact same 'Public Mandate' that Rayn just used. He didn't wait for a seat at the table; he smashed the table and built a new one. Rayn didn't break the rules, Victus. He remembered them. He played the game better than you, and now... you are nothing but a guest in his city."
Rayn walked over, standing over Victus. He looked down at the man who had tried to play him like a puppet. Rayn leaned in, his voice a whisper that only Victus could hear.
"Your father was a rebel, Victus. You? You're just a spoiled brat sitting on a dead man's chair. Don't worry... I'll make sure your father's legacy is preserved. I'll start by burning everything you love to the ground."
Victus let out a strangled cry of rage, but Matthew's aura pinned him to the floor. The new era had arrived, and it tasted like iron and ash.