"He sure loves to show off, doesn't he?" the prince muttered under his breath, just loud enough to stir the silence around him. His gaze was fixed on the distant battlefield, but the venom in his voice was aimed far closer.
"And here we are, still waiting for him to die. If only he were gone... the royal family could finally rule unchecked. But of course—with that kind of strength, it's no wonder. One of only three 6-Star Aura Swordmasters in the empire..." He turned, eyes narrowing at the silent throne. "Isn't that right, Your Majesty?"
The Empress's smile faltered. Her expression hardened, her voice cold as steel.
"Mind your tongue, Prince. You stand before the true Emperor—the light that shall deliver this world from ruin."
"Oh?" The prince's lip curled. "Then perhaps you should watch yours. Let's not pretend. You're a concubine who got lucky after my mother's death. That's all you are to me. You'll never replace her. Not in this life."
The room tensed. Guards reached for their hilts. Servants froze mid-breath.
"You insolent little—"
"Enough."
The word was thunder.
The Emperor had spoken.
A tidal wave of aura exploded from the throne, crashing over the court like a divine force. Even the walls groaned. Everyone fell silent—some from fear, others from awe.
The Emperor didn't rise. He didn't need to. His presence alone bent the air like gravity.
He looked to his son, eyes calm but heavy with command.
"Leave."
His voice was steady. Absolute.
Prince Ian bowed stiffly, but his heart raged like wildfire.
As he exited the chamber, his thoughts twisted into a coil of resentment.
That scream... that aura... it tore through the sky itself.
So this is the gulf between us—between a 6-Star Aura Swordmaster and the rest of us.
They say even two dozen 4-Star Aura Masters wouldn't survive against one like him.
...Fine.
Then I'll gather four dozen. Maybe five. And if fate allows, I'll find a 6-Star of my own.
Your time will come, Father... and I'll be there when it ends.