Chapter 325: The Crown’s Disciples

Chapter 325: Chapter 325: The Crown’s Disciples

The arena gates swung open.

Seven cultivators stepped onto the stage, their gold-and-white armor gleaming under the solar lanterns.

Each movement was perfectly synchronized, their boots hitting the stone floor in a single unified rhythm.

The crowd erupted.

"ROYAL ACADEMY! ROYAL ACADEMY! ROYAL ACADEMY!"

Damon watched from the Azure Dragon dugout, his eyes narrowing.

’Perfect formation. Perfect discipline. They’ve been trained since birth to move as one.’

The Royal Academy captain was a tall man with close-cropped black hair and cold gray eyes. He wore a silver circlet on his brow, marking him as a direct retainer of Crown Prince Caelum.

He raised his hand.

The six disciples behind him stopped.

They stood at attention, their gazes fixed forward.

The Deep Sea Pavilion cultivators emerged from the opposite gate.

Seven men and women in deep blue robes, their skin glistening with moisture, their eyes sharp and ready.

The Pavilion captain was a muscular woman with short-cropped white hair and a jagged scar running from her temple to her jaw.

She looked at the Royal Academy captain.

"You’re fast. But water cuts deeper than light."

The Royal Academy captain smiled.

"Let’s find out."

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice boomed.

"Match 16: Royal Solaris Academy versus Deep Sea Pavilion. Begin!"

The Deep Sea Pavilion captain moved first.

She slammed her palm into the ground.

Water surged upward, forming a massive dome around her team.

"Shield formation!"

Her disciples channeled their qi into the dome, reinforcing it with layer after layer of pressurized water.

The Royal Academy captain watched, his cold gray eyes tracking every movement of the Deep Sea Pavilion team with detached precision. He didn’t move a muscle.

He simply stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his expression one of utter boredom—as if this entire match was beneath his notice.

The Deep Sea Pavilion captain narrowed her eyes, her scarred jaw tightening. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded, her voice sharp with frustration.

The Royal Academy captain smiled, a thin, knowing curve of his lips. "For you to realize you’ve already lost," he said calmly.

He raised his hand. Golden light bloomed above his palm, a swirling sphere of pure radiance.

It grew, expanding rapidly, its heat washing over the arena. And grew, until it blazed like a newborn sun.

Until a miniature sun hovered above the arena, its radiance blinding, its heat oppressive.

The crowd shielded their eyes.

The Deep Sea Pavilion cultivators screamed.

Their water dome evaporated instantly.

Steam billowed across the arena floor.

The Deep Sea Pavilion captain stared at her empty hands.

"What..."

The Royal Academy captain lowered his hand.

The miniature sun dimmed slightly, but it remained suspended above the arena, casting long shadows across the stone floor.

"Attack."

The six Royal Academy disciples moved.

They flowed forward like water, their movements precise and economical.

The first disciple raised his palm and fired a beam of golden light.

It struck a Deep Sea Pavilion cultivator in the chest, sending him flying into the barrier wall.

He didn’t get up.

The second disciple spun, her blade extending, and carved through a water whip before it could form.

She kicked the Deep Sea Pavilion cultivator in the face.

He collapsed.

The third disciple moved like a ghost, his body flickering, his sword appearing and disappearing as he cut through the remaining water shields.

The Deep Sea Pavilion captain roared.

"ENOUGH!"

She released a burst of pressurized water from her body, the jets slicing through the air toward the Royal Academy captain.

He didn’t move. Not a single muscle twitched. Not even his robes stirred in the sudden rush of displaced air.

The water jets struck an invisible barrier around him. They hit with explosive force, a pressurized torrent that should have shredded flesh and bone. The barrier didn’t even shimmer. It just absorbed the impact like a stone wall absorbs raindrops.

The water splashed harmlessly to the ground, pooling around his feet. He didn’t look down. He didn’t acknowledge the attack at all.

He looked at her.

His golden eyes met hers. She was breathing hard. Her robes were soaked. Her hair was plastered to her face. She looked nothing like the composed captain who had stepped into the arena minutes ago.

"You’re desperate. It’s ugly."

His words were flat. Clinical. He might have been commenting on the weather.

He raised his hand again. The motion was slow. Deliberate. His fingers curled slightly, and the air around them began to shimmer with heat.

The miniature sun pulsed.

Once.

Twice.

The light intensified. The shadows in the arena deepened. The temperature rose another ten degrees. The stone beneath his feet began to glow a dull red.

A beam of concentrated light shot down, striking the Deep Sea Pavilion captain in the chest.

She flew backward, her body crashing into the barrier, her robes smoking.

She collapsed.

The remaining Deep Sea Pavilion cultivators looked at each other.

Then at their unconscious captain.

They raised their hands.

"We yield!"

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice rang out.

"Royal Solaris Academy wins! Final score: 7-0! Time: 8 minutes and 42 seconds!"

The crowd erupted.

One million citizens of Solaris City rose to their feet.

They cheered.

They screamed.

They threw flowers into the air.

The Royal Academy captain stood in the center of the arena, his arms raised, his face expressionless.

He didn’t smile.

He didn’t celebrate.

He just stood there, absorbing the adulation like it was his due.

Damon watched from the dugout.

’Eight minutes and forty-two seconds. They didn’t break a sweat. They didn’t even try.’

Lumina sat beside him, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

She stared at the Royal Academy captain.

Her voice was soft.

"They are disciplined. But arrogant. They fight like men who have never lost a loved one."

Damon turned to look at her.

Her eyes were distant.

Unfocused.

Staring at something far beyond the arena walls.

She was seeing something else.

Someone else.

A ghost of the past.

He reached over and squeezed her hand.

"You’ve lost. That’s what makes you different from them."

Lumina blinked.

The haze in her eyes cleared.

She looked at him.

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I hope you’re right."

Grand Marshal Vane’s voice boomed across the arena, shattering the moment.

"The Round of 32 is concluded! Sixteen sects remain! Tomorrow, the true battle begins!"

The crowd roared once more.

Flowers rained down from the stands.