Light swallowed everything.
Not warm.
Not cold.
Not even bright.
It was simply there—absolute and overwhelming, consuming sight, sound, thought, and time itself.
Leon stood in it without resistance.
At this point, resistance felt pointless.
The trial had dragged him through battlefields, voids, nameless chambers, and systems that had tried to force him into shapes he refused to fit.
A little transportation meant nothing.
But the mark on his hand—
That meant something.
He looked at it again.
Still there.
Sharp.
Silent.
Watching.
Almost like an eye carved into his skin.
He flexed his fingers.
Nothing.
No reaction.
No pain.
No power.
And somehow—
That made it worse.
Beside him, Lira stood frozen in the light.
She looked pale.
Shaken.
Her eyes kept flickering toward his hand.
Toward the mark.
Toward him.
"…You really don't know what that is?"
Leon shrugged.
"Would I ask if I did?"
Lira frowned.
"That's not what I asked."
Leon smirked.
"No."
A pause.
"But I really don't."
The light thickened.
The ground beneath them vanished.
Then returned.
And reality slammed back into place.
Stone.
Sky.
Air.
Wind.
Life.
Leon blinked once.
And froze.
They were back.
Not in the arena.
Not in the void.
But in the capital.
The Sovereign Capital of the Infinite Empire.
The place Leon had only seen from a distance.
And even then—
He had underestimated it.
Massive towers stretched into the heavens, piercing clouds like divine spears. Rivers of silver mana flowed through engraved channels in the streets. Bridges of floating stone connected districts suspended in midair.
The city itself was layered.
Ground level.
Sky level.
And beyond.
Everything moved with purpose.
Warriors.
Nobles.
Servants.
Guards.
Power.
Everywhere.
Leon looked around slowly.
"…That's excessive."
Lira stared at him.
"Excessive?"
Leon nodded.
"Yeah."
He pointed upward at a floating palace larger than mountains.
"…That."
Lira looked offended.
"That's the Imperial Palace."
Leon blinked.
"…Exactly."
Before either could speak again—
The remaining survivors appeared around them.
One by one.
Less than ten.
The final chosen.
All silent.
All exhausted.
And all wearing the same look.
Relief.
Until—
The pressure descended.
Leon felt it instantly.
Every instinct in his body sharpened.
Not hostile.
Not violent.
But absolute.
The kind of presence that reminded you—
You were small.
He looked up.
And there—
Standing on the highest palace balcony—
Was the Emperor.
August Valtherion
Leon's father.
The man who ruled the strongest empire in the world.
Tall.
Golden-haired.
Sharp-eyed.
Wearing simple robes despite the crushing authority surrounding him.
He looked young.
Far too young for an emperor.
But power twisted age.
Leon knew that.
The Emperor's gaze swept across the survivors.
Calm.
Unreadable.
Until—
It stopped on Leon.
And remained there.
Silence.
The entire capital seemed to freeze.
Lira felt it too.
"…Why is he looking at you?"
Leon answered honestly.
"…No idea."
That was a lie.
He had a very good idea.
The Emperor's eyes narrowed slightly.
Not anger.
Recognition.
And something else.
Interest.
Then—
A voice echoed.
Not from the Emperor.
From beside him.
An old man stepped onto the balcony.
White hair.
Calm smile.
Eyes sharper than blades.
The Head Butler.
One of the oldest living servants of the Imperial Family.
Sebastian Vale
His voice spread across the capital.
"The Sovereign Trial has concluded."
The city stirred.
Watching.
Listening.
Waiting.
"The chosen have returned."
A pause.
"The worthy shall now be recognized."
The survivors stiffened.
Leon sighed.
"…More ceremonies."
Lira whispered harshly.
"Be quiet."
Sebastian continued.
"Step forward."
One by one—
The survivors obeyed.
Each stepping into a circle of light.
A symbol formed beneath their feet.
Rank.
Path.
Potential.
Each was assigned.
Acknowledged.
Accepted.
Until—
Leon.
He stepped forward.
The circle formed.
Then shattered.
Instantly.
The gathered nobles gasped.
The guards tensed.
Lira stared.
"…Again?"
Leon looked down.
"…Yeah."
Sebastian's smile faded.
His eyes sharpened.
Interesting.
The Emperor leaned forward slightly.
August Valtherion spoke for the first time.
"…Approach."
The word was simple.
But absolute.
The entire city froze.
Leon looked up.
Directly at him.
At the Emperor.
At his father.
And for the first time in years—
Father and son truly faced one another.
Leon exhaled.
"…Well."
"…This should be fun."
Lira grabbed his arm.
Her voice low.
"…That's the Emperor."
Leon looked at her.
"…I know."
Then—
He walked.
Toward the palace.
Toward the throne.
Toward the man who had abandoned him.
Every step felt heavier.
Not because of power.
But memory.
His mother.
Her death.
The poverty.
The isolation.
The hidden bloodline.
And now—
This.
As he climbed the endless palace stairs, the nobles watched.
Whispers spread.
"Who is he?"
"Why did the Emperor call him personally?"
"His circle broke…"
"That's impossible."
Leon ignored them.
At the top—
He stopped.
Only ten paces away.
The Emperor stared at him.
Leon stared back.
Neither bowed.
Neither spoke.
The silence grew sharp.
Then—
August smiled.
Faintly.
"…You survived."
Leon laughed once.
Dry.
"…Disappointed?"
A murmur spread across the nobles.
Sebastian's eyes widened slightly.
No one spoke to the Emperor like that.
No one.
But August—
Laughed.
Softly.
"…No."
His gaze dropped.
To Leon's hand.
To the mark.
And his smile disappeared.
"…I see."
Leon noticed.
"…You know what it is."
August looked back up.
"…Yes."
Leon's eyes sharpened.
"…Then explain."
A pause.
Long.
Heavy.
Then—
August said quietly:
"…Not here."
Leon frowned.
The Emperor turned.
"Sebastian."
The Head Butler bowed.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Take him."
Leon's gaze hardened.
"…Take me where?"
August looked over his shoulder.
"To meet the only man who may understand what you've become."
Leon froze.
Only one man?
In the entire Infinite Empire?
There was only one person that could mean.
The founder.
The First Sovereign.
Caelus Aurelion
Leon's fingers tightened.
"…Why?"
August turned fully now.
His eyes colder.
Sharper.
More serious than before.
"Because," August said quietly,
"That mark should not exist."
Silence.
Leon looked at his hand again.
For the first time—
He felt it.
A pulse.
Small.
But real.
The mark reacted.
As if hearing the words.
Sebastian stepped forward.
Smiling again.
"Come, young master."
Leon frowned.
"…Young master?"
Sebastian bowed slightly.
"You are of Imperial blood."
Leon stared at him.
"…That doesn't make me yours."
Sebastian smiled.
"…No."
A pause.
"But it makes you family."
Leon said nothing.
Lira watched from below.
Confused.
Shocked.
And suddenly realizing—
Leon was far more dangerous…
And far more important…
Than she ever imagined.
Above—
The sky darkened.
Not with clouds.
But with presence.
Something old had awakened.
Something watching.
And deep within the Imperial Palace—
The First Sovereign opened his eyes.
And smiled.
"…So."
"…The child has arrived."