Chapter 109: Chapter 109: Royal Rumble – Part 6

BZZZZZ!

The moment Alina revealed her true combat power, her aura erupted like a tsunami.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

Her aura was dark and suffocating.

Alina’s form gained a slightly devilish quality, and the dagger radiated a darkness energy so suppressive that even Adonis found it hard to breathe. Even staying close to her without bending his knees was difficult.

The King and nobles watched with dark satisfaction, thinking Adonis was finished. Although none of them seemed to remember that he was just a student at the Academy. For him to have endured this long was already a miracle.

However, none of them seemed to care about Adonis. It was as if they were eager to see him fall and grovel under their feet.

Even King Magnus remained expressionless. He did not seem to care about this son-in-law of his.

It was almost as if he had another goal entirely.

Adonis glanced at the massive hourglass where most of the sand had already fallen. Only about 40 seconds remained.

However, if he stayed like this, he would not survive.

He had initially thought they were testing him, but now it appeared as though they were genuinely intent on getting rid of him.

They wanted to eliminate him at all cost.

Did Mariana know about this?

He looked at Mariana’s face, but all he saw there was worry.

To say the King was playing a double game would be an understatement.

Realizing this cold fact, Adonis decided to drop all restraint he had placed upon himself.

There was no need to hold back when the other party was openly showing the intention to kill.

He looked upward to where Alina hovered in midair, appearing as the very embodiment of death goddess itself, then shifted his gaze to the ruthless King on the upper podium.

He opened his mouth, speaking in a cold and deep voice:

“You know, I honestly thought the King was a wise person who considered his daughter’s happiness above all else. But after fighting in this arena, I have learned the hard truth.”

His gaze swept over King Magnus to everyone.

“Not a single one of you ever wanted to accept me as her partner. Not one. Until now, you have all played me like a fool.”

His voice turned colder, and a chaotic golden aura began to leak out from his body.

< That’s it, Master. Let it out. Let the chaos cause mayhem. Only Chaos is supreme. The rest are dust. >

Vexa’s manic words rang out across every corner of the arena, frightening the few members of the audience who remained composed until now.

“Adonis, what are you saying?” Mariana spoke worriedly from above. “Father already agreed to our proposal. You just need to survive for a few more seconds, then everything will be over.”

Adonis shook his head. “You are naive, my love. Your father will never agree to this relationship because of his foolish pride and ignorance.”

Mariana looked at her father’s face for answers. “Father, is my darling telling the truth? Have you lied to me all along?”

She got no reply. Just an expressionless face.

Her heart sank to rock bottom. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Father, how could you do this? I trusted you,” she went on her knees, crying.

Just then Adonis barked, “Stand up, Maria. The Queen of Adonis Kingsbane does not cry. She does not beg for pity. She shall only know how to live with pride.”

“Big talk from a whore’s son,” a minister with a thick white beard rumbled from above, standing beside the King.

“Executioner, kill him!”

Alina nodded at once. She also seemed to have already been privy to their insidious plan.

Her face showed no remorse, nor any pity.

Her eyes sharpened like a hawk’s.

“Swoosh!”

This time she dove down like a calamity of darkness.

No weapon was necessary.

The Darkness Dagger dissolved within her very being.

Every bit of her aura was now a blade, capable of slicing mountains with ease.

Buzz! Buzzz! Buzzzzzz!

The storm of darkness blades surged forward like a living thing, hungry and boundless, each individual blade humming with the kind of dark energy that did not simply cut through flesh but consumed it, unraveling it at the most fundamental level. They filled the entire width of the arena as they converged on Adonis’s figure, blotting out the light behind them, a wall of absolute annihilation dressed in shadow.

There was no dodging it. There was no deflecting it.

There was simply no space left in the world that was not occupied by the killing intent of Alina Harbinger unleashed in full.

And then, from somewhere inside that closing darkness, a single voice rang out.

“Chaos Ultima.”

Calm. Cold. Absolute.

It was not shouted. It did not need to be. The words carried the pressure of something that existed beyond volume, beyond sound, pressing outward from the point of their origin the way pressure builds before a dam gives way entirely.

For one fraction of a second, nothing happened.

Then the world came apart.

BOOOOOOOM!

The explosion did not bloom outward the way ordinary explosions did, building from a central point in an expanding sphere of fire and force.

This was different. This was instantaneous.

One moment the arena floor existed. In the next moment, everything within 10 meters of that single point simply ceased to be.

Stone, metal, even the air itself.

The first wave of chaotic purple energy did not destroy the material around it so much as erase it. It consumed every physical thing within its radius with a thoroughness that left nothing behind, not rubble, not dust, not even the memory of shape.

The arena floor vanished. The lower walls vanished. The heavy iron barriers that had lined the dueling perimeter crumpled and dissolved like paper held over an open flame, gone before they even had time to fall.

BUZZZZ!

The second wave followed a heartbeat later, smaller in radius but different in nature, tearing through the very magical elements within 50 meters of the epicenter.

The air particles became superheated and then fractured. Water in the nearby fountains of the palace grounds evaporated in an instant. The earth beneath the arena foundation groaned and buckled as something fundamental was stripped out of it, leaving the soil dense and strange and wrong in ways that would take days for anyone to understand.

And then the third wave hit the city.

“BUZZZZZZZZ!

It did not arrive with sound. Sound came after. The wave itself arrived first.

It carried the kind if power that passed through stone and wood and flesh without distinction, and the city felt it in its bones before it heard anything at all.

Then the sound arrived.

Rumble. Rumble. RUMBLE.

It moved through the Capital like a living thing, a rolling, grinding thunder that had no direction because it was coming from everywhere at once.

Market stalls that had stood for decades collapsed inward on themselves in cascading rows, their contents spilling across the cobblestones in rivers of broken wood and shattered pottery.

Buildings with cracked foundations finally surrendered what little structural integrity they had been holding onto and came down in avalanches of brick and mortar, filling the streets with choking clouds of pale dust.

The city walls, once strong enough to withstand siege weapons and battering rams and the concentrated assault of entire armies, cracked.

The guards stationed along the ramparts grabbed whatever they could reach to keep from being thrown off their feet as the stone beneath them shuddered and groaned.

“Oh God Ascalon! What is happening?”

The voice belonged to no one in particular. It belonged to everyone. It rose from a hundred throats at once across a dozen different streets and districts, the same words in different mouths, the same naked fear wearing different faces.

“Has God’s judgement finally arrived?”

People poured out of doorways and into the streets, looking up at the sky with wide, pale faces, searching for the source of the sound, the pressure, the wrongness that had passed through their chests and left them feeling hollowed out.

They found it.

Above the Royal Palace, rising with slow and terrible grace above the highest towers and spires of the most fortified structure in the kingdom, a mushroom cloud of deep, churning purple climbed toward the heavens.

It was vast.

It was wrong in color and in shape, the purple too vivid, too alive, pulsing at its edges with chaotic energy that had not yet finished deciding what it wanted to destroy next.

It rose and rose and kept rising, blotting out the sun above the palace district and casting the streets below into a strange violet mixed shadow.

The city went very quiet for one second.

Then, it became frantic.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Silver Knights abandoned their posts and ran. Gold Knights mobilized in formation, their commanders screaming orders that were half drowned out by the residual rumbling still moving through the earth beneath their boots.

Even soldiers poured out of military camps still strapping on armor, still drawing weapons, moving toward the source on instinct because instinct was all that was functioning clearly in anyone at that particular moment.

No one knew what had happened.

No one knew what could have happened, what manner of weapon or catastrophe or divine punishment was capable of producing something like that above the Royal Palace of all places.

They ran toward it because it was their duty to run toward it, and because standing still in the face of something that large and that wrong felt like a different kind of death.

They did not know that the source of this chaos was just a young man who had lost all hope in this Kingdom and its laws.

The consequences would not be light.

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