Elena looked at Elisa and asked her to follow. She did, and the two of them stepped into one of the side rooms off the main hall. The moment they entered, Elena raised a soundproof barrier around the room, then lowered herself into a lotus position and gestured for Elisa to do the same. Elisa obeyed.
"I will gift you a drop of my blood," Elena said, "and you must promise me you won't let anyone know — not even your big brother."
Elisa was confused, but she nodded.
Elena wove a series of seals with her hands, and the shimmering symbol of a dragon coalesced in the air between them. It drifted forward and sank into Elisa's right hand. Elena then made a small cut across her own palm; the bead of blood that welled up lifted free of her skin, hovered, and turned slowly in the air before sliding into Elisa's hand where the dragon seal now rested.
Still bewildered, Elisa asked what it was for.
"This will save you from the catastrophe to come," Elena said. "Think of it as a second lease on life. I've also noticed something — your strength is a hundred and ten times that of a high-level mortal, but you can only sustain it for about five minutes in a short, intense battle. Push past that, and it starts eating you alive. the moment you pass away awy our names would be connected and you will be able to use my name in the world you reincarnate in and I will be be able to use your name Elisa too."
Elisa froze. No one in the clan knew that — not even her. She had always fought calculating, always ended things fast, overwhelming her opponents with brute force before the strain could catch up to her. She hadn't realized anyone could see the seams in that strategy.
"How do you know that?" Elisa asked.
Elena smiled. "I promised myself I wouldn't reveal what I truly am to anyone beneath the dimensional god level who isn't a mythical being. But I suppose I'll make an exception for you." She sighed. "I am far stronger than I appear. Stronger, even, than your founding ancestors. I've lived through more years than you could comprehend, and I intend to obtain source guidance and become a source god. The only way to do that is through a karmic bond with you — one strong enough to draw a source god's attention."
Elisa smiled politely, understanding none of it.
"It's fine that you don't understand yet," Elena said. "You will, in time. My blood has already burned away the wild threads of uncontrolled source energy tangled in your body. You can draw on a hundred and thirty times a high-level mortal's strength now — eighty more than the average half god or half devil — and you won't feel the backlash from holding your full power for longer stretches anymore."
Elisa bowed deeply in gratitude. Elena told her to train hard, to become the undisputed best in the coming competition — second only to Solanky.
Elisa hesitated, then asked, almost shyly, if her brother was really that strong.
Elena's smile didn't waver. "There's only one way to find out. You'll see tomorrow, during the battle."
The grand elder gathered the competitors, the king, and Elena, and the group departed for the trial grounds — a separate star field known as the Suspended Worlds Secret Region, forged by a dimensional god himself.
When they arrived, the sight alone stole the breath from every member of the Bayoka clan. Countless fragments of shattered space rock hung suspended around a single vast continent — a floating world 2.45 light-years in diameter, crowned at its center by an arena with a circumference of eighty million kilometers and seating beyond count. Because the Bayoka clan had brought so few representatives compared to the thousands fielded by other clans, they were given only a modest section of seating.
The grand elder, Elena, the king, and the rest of their party settled in just as an earlier match was drawing to its climax — the monster of the Jade Ice Planet against a rising talent from the Giant Troll Clan of Planet Sabiru.
The Jade Ice Planet's champion, a hand-to-hand specialist named Kwakus, moved like water given a temper. His opponent swung a massive axe with brutal, relentless force, but not once did the blade so much as graze him — Kwakus was simply too fast. He closed the distance in an instant and drove a punch forward, channeling the full weight of his hundred-and-twenty-times strength into the blow. The troll had no choice but to meet it head-on with his axe.
The clash rang out like a thunderclap. The axe was hurled backward through the air, its cutting edge caved inward, a fist-shaped dent stamped clean into the steel.
The giant troll stood frozen, hands trembling numb from the impact — his own strength capped at ninety times a high-level mortal's. He raised his arms in surrender without another word. The arena erupted, the crowd from the Jade Ice Planet roaring loudest of all as the moderator declared Kwakus the winner and cleared him for the next stage.
The grand elder turned to Solanky. "You're next. Get ready."
The king leaned in, uncertain. "Is this really the wisest choice?"
The grand elder only nodded, and the king, unable to argue further, settled back to watch.
Elisa's stomach twisted with worry as she studied her brother's opponent — a strange, winged figure with claws tipped on all ten fingers and the head of an Earth dire wolf. He hailed from the Red Star Demon Planet and was known across the competition as Golden Feather, named for his brilliant, gilded wings. His strength was said to be three times that of an average half god.
Elena leaned toward Solanky. "End it quickly. Don't reveal your true strength." Solanky gave a single nod.
The moderator's voice boomed across the arena. "Our next match — Golden Feather, the fastest combatant in this century's competition and its second-confirmed strongest half god, against a first-time entrant from Planet Sabiru, who goes by the name Ghost of the Void!"
Solanky stepped onto the stage and waited in silence. A voice rang out from the crowd — "Look to the sky!" — and every head turned upward to see a winged silhouette carve a burning arc through the air, descending like a falling star at a blistering 650 meters per second before spreading its wings wide at the last instant.
"Ghost of the Void," Golden Feather said, landing lightly. "Heavy name for a first-timer. Let's make this quick." He shot forward at full speed, claws outstretched.
Elisa and the king both shut their eyes, certain they knew what was coming. But the arena fell utterly silent instead — because Golden Feather's outstretched hand had been caught. Held fast in Solanky's grip, straining and failing to break free. Solanky wrenched him down, slamming him into the stage floor hard enough to shake the platform beneath them.
"Surrender," Solanky said calmly. "Don't make this harder on yourself."
Golden Feather, stung with humiliation, dragged himself upright and launched skyward — careful to stay beneath the one-kilometer ceiling. "You're the first one to make me use my feather-blade technique," he said, beginning to circle Solanky from above, his speed climbing to 790 meters per second. "Incredibly strong," he muttered to himself, "but foolish, if he thinks he can weather this."
Solanky stood motionless on the stage, eyes closed. Golden Feather unleashed over two thousand razor-edged blades, each screaming toward Solanky at 1500 meters per second.
Solanky's eyes snapped open. He called on one of the bloodline techniques he'd absorbed — the art of the silver-winged water bird, a mythical creature famed for its nimble flight and mastery of evasion. His speed surged to 1800 meters per second, and he slipped between the storm of blades with ease, using them as stepping stones to close in on Golden Feather.
Golden Feather saw the plan forming and bolted upward — but Solanky only smiled, a sharp, knowing curve of the mouth, and snatched ten of the blades from the air mid-flight, turning them against their owner.
Golden Feather's blood ran cold. He knew he could dodge even a full volley of ten — but only by breaking the one-kilometer ceiling, which would disqualify him instantly.
The king, Elisa, and the rest of the competitors watched in stunned silence — this display surpassed even their strongest fighter, Elena herself. Elisa's eyes brimmed with tears of pure joy; her brother could finally protect her.
"Hey, boy," Elena called out lazily, "we don't have all day. Hurry up and finish it."
Every eye in the arena swiveled toward her. She only giggled and blinked back at them, the picture of innocence. The king, more shaken than anyone, recognized in that brief burst of speed something dangerously close to elementary-god strength.
Solanky hurled five of the blades at Golden Feather, who banked sharply to dodge — straight into the trajectory Solanky had already predicted. The remaining five blades shot out and collided with the first five, sending them rocketing toward Golden Feather at twice their original speed. He had no choice but to wrap himself in his wings and brace for the impact, and in that instant of stillness, Solanky closed the gap and drove a kick down into the shielded wings.
The force of the blow told Golden Feather everything he needed to know — Solanky held thirty times more strength in reserve than he did.
He crashed into the arena floor and conceded defeat on the spot. He understood, in that moment, that Solanky was the new number one — the previous record-holder had only reached 160 times a high-level mortal's strength, and by the power just displayed, Solanky had to be near 180 times.
The crowd roared, electrified by the display. The Bayoka clan, who in past years had never advanced past the earliest rounds, found themselves swept up in disbelief and pride — an outcast had become their new hope.
"What a stunning performance," the moderator announced, "from the Ghost of the Void, representing the Bayoka Clan of Planet Sabiru! They advance to the next stage!"
The crowd cheered as Solanky made his way back to his seat, where Elisa and the rest of the Bayoka delegation swarmed him, lifting him up in celebration. The king, watching it all unfold, finally understood why the grand elder and Elena had remained so unshaken whenever Solanky's name came up.