The arena still hummed with tension from the Demon Lord's humiliation. Uriel remained kneeling beside Lucien's clone like a terrified servant in the wrong temple, refusing even to breathe too loudly. Guru sipped tea far too loudly, just to make him flinch. Vaelion sat with arms crossed, smirking like a man who'd just watched the prelude to a very good day.
Lucien's clone lifted a hand—not to attack, but simply to quiet the crowd.
And then he spoke with a calmness that made the sky itself straighten its posture.
"Before we resume…"
Lucien's clone glanced at Uriel, then at the thousands watching.
"Let me clarify something—since some of you may misunderstand how close you came to annihilation."
A hush spread instantly.
"Even though my true body is far, very far away… the mere mention of his name reaches him."
Whispers broke out. Some scoffed. Some trembled.
Lucien's clone continued, unbothered:
"If you think of him… if you dream of him… that version of him is aware. Conscious. Present."
He tapped the side of his head, smiling softly.
"If you dream of him—he does not appear as a projection.
He arrives as himself."
A collective shiver rolled through the colosseum.
Even Guru finally stopped sipping his tea and nodded.
Vaelion muttered, "Not even Heaven dares explore that."
Uriel whimpered.
Lucien clapped his hands, and the light of the arena flared back to normal.
"Round Two resumes. Continue."
The competitors—sect disciples, family heirs, clan prodigies—reformed their teams, though several kept glancing nervously at Lucien's clone, worried any misstep might call the real one.
The battlefield flooded with motion again:
Reign of the Cinderblade Sect darting through shadows like blinking embers. Silverwind Pavilion twins teleporting in spirals, giggling like madmen. Frostpeak Clan elites skating on ice they were forming mid-air. Azure Celestial Sect disciples roaring with renewed pride under Aelira's cheers.
But the opponents had grown smarter. Everyone guarded their back fiercely.
Guru chuckled from the viewing platform.
"Kids finally fighting like they want to live."
Vaelion sipped tea. "At least they're not dying instantly."
After nearly an hour of relentless movement, dozens of close calls, and a final chaotic scramble—
two teams tagged each other at the exact same moment.
The arena flashed blue, signaling a tie.
Lucien's clone laughed lightly.
"A draw. Acceptable."
Aelira hopped up from her seat.
"Papa! That round was so fun!"
Hoshigami smirked at her.
"Your papa's chaos attracts chaos."
Aelira puffed her cheeks. "Papa isn't chaos! He's papa!"
Guru snorted tea out his nose.
Lucien raised his hand again.
"Round Three—Battle Royale."
A slow murmur grew until the arena vibrated with excitement.
"Every sect. Every family. Every disciple.
All at once."
He paused.
"Excluding the Peak Disciples from Nax.
This is for Azure Blue's forces alone."
The Nax disciples nodded respectfully.
Hoshigami leaned back, arms folded, observing like a war general judging children playing at battle.
Hayato whispered, "This is going to get messy."
Rei grinned, "Good."
Akemi flicked her hair, smirking, "Bet someone cries."
Shunji murmured, "Or several someones."
Kojiro added, "The data will be entertaining."
Aelira sat beside them swinging her legs, not understanding half their comments, but proudly saying:
"My papa will make sure nobody dies!"
Rei: "That's what I'm afraid of…"
Lucien's clone lifted his palm—
and the platform shifted, expanding outward, rearranging terrain like a world being rewritten.
Forest regions sprouted on the left side. Floating platforms rose on the right. A volcanic ridge erupted toward the back. Rivers of qi shimmered around the center like liquid starlight.
Guru tilted his head. "Did you… enhance it again?"
Lucien's clone shrugged.
"Bored."
Uriel trembling beside them nearly passed out.
The arena thundered as hundreds of participants stepped forward:
Heirs of the Dragonheart Lineage Saint Lotus Monastery prodigies Eclipse Shadow Sect assassins Sovereign Spear Pavilion elites Mystic Valley Clan envoys Thunderborn Aristocracy's awakened youths Crimson Serpent School's poisonous twins
All gathering.
All staring at Lucien's clone.
Some trembling.
Some excited.
Some trying not to think about the "dream clause."
He descended to float above the center of the battlefield.
"Round Three rules:"
"No killing."
"No crippling."
"No attacking spectators."
"If I sense intent to slaughter—"
He smiled.
"I will personally remove you."
Everyone gulped.
Uriel fainted upright.
Guru laughed.
Vaelion applauded sarcastically.
Aelira cheered, "GO PAPA!!"
Lucien raised one finger.
The entire world stilled.
His eyes—gentle but absolute—swept across the battlefield.
"Begin."