A deafening silence had fallen over the Champion's Arena. Nero stood alone in the center, the unconscious forms of the Light Sect disciples scattered around him like fallen leaves. The pressure he had released still hung heavy in the air.
The Light Sect disciple who had issued the challenge struggled to his knees, his voice a mix of fury and disbelief. "You... you are not one of the registered participants! By forcing your way in, you are challenging the entire arena! Everyone present here!"
From the high platform of masters, a voice of authority echoed, calm yet firm. "He speaks the truth, young man. Those are the ancient rules of this contest. However," the Grandmaster added, his tone offering a sliver of mercy, "if you entered by mistake, you may withdraw now without consequence."
Nero didn't even glance at the exit. A slow, confident smile spread across his face. "No mistake. I accept the challenge."
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. With his acceptance, every single sect disciple in the arena now had a shared target.
The Light Sect disciple roared, his body erupting in a brilliant, blinding luminescence as he transformed. He was joined by a dozen of his sect brothers, their combined light threatening to burn away the very shadows in the stadium.
"3... 2... 1... BEGIN!"
What happened next was a blur that only the most elite masters could follow. It wasn't a brawl; it was a symphony of precise, devastating motion. Nero moved like a ghost between the beams of light, his movements economical and brutally efficient. The sound wasn't of punches, but of rapid, concussive thuds and the sharp crack of displaced air.
When the afterimages faded and the dust settled, the result was undeniable. Every single Light Sect disciple was pinned to the ground, held down by invisible bands of force, their transformative light extinguished.
A stunned silence gripped the arena, broken only by Nero's calm, clear voice.
"Next."
---
The dam broke. Enraged and inspired, disciples from every other sect—Martial Arts, Dark, Ice, Buddha—flooded the arena floor, their war cries merging into a single roar.
What followed was a breathtaking display of combat artistry. Nero became the eye of the storm, a whirlwind of controlled power. He didn't just defeat them; he dissected their styles. He used a Taichi master's momentum against him, mirrored the flowing strikes of the Martial Arts sect, and met the Dark Sect's shadows with a light of his own making.
When they tried to overwhelm him with numbers, he simply raised a hand. A tornado of serene, azure flames erupted around him, lifting the attackers and depositing them gently but firmly outside the arena's boundary lines.
A murmur, full of awe and fear, swept through the spectators. "Blue flames... that is quite rare..."
The Grandmaster stood, his expression unreadable. "Young man," his voice boomed, demanding attention. "You have proven your strength. Now, state your purpose. In which sect do you wish to enter as a disciple?"
Nero bowed respectfully, the picture of humility after his display of arrogance. "Before I speak, honored Grandmaster, please forgive my rudeness."
"Hmm. Go ahead."
Nero lifted his head, his gaze sharp and unwavering, landing directly on the most reserved figure among the masters—the Ancient Lord. "I wish for the Lord of the Ancient Sect to grant me a duel. One on one. Only then can I give my final answer."
---
The request was unprecedented. Yet, after a moment of silent communication amongst themselves, the masters nodded. The Ancient Lord, a man who seemed carved from time itself, stood and descended to the arena floor.
"Child," he said, his voice like grinding stones. "Let us see what you have truly got."
The battle began, and the difference was immediately apparent. This was not a fight against disciples. The Ancient Lord didn't attack with flashy techniques; he simply existed in a space that became hostile to Nero. The air thickened, gravity increased tenfold, and Nero's every move was met with an invisible, immovable force.
Nero struggled, truly struggled for the first time. He was pushed back, his defenses strained to their absolute limit. He was like a sapling in a hurricane, holding on through sheer force of will.
"Child," the Ancient Lord stated, not even breathing heavily. "This was not even one percent of my power."
Nero knew it was true. He felt the ocean-deep reserve of power within the old man. With a final, grunting effort, he stopped fighting. He dropped to one knee, bowing his head in the traditional, respectful gesture of surrender.
The Ancient Lord observed him for a long, silent moment. "Fine. You are not entirely without merit." A ripple of shock went through the entire stadium as he spoke his next words. "Do you wish to become my disciple?"
Nero looked up, a genuine spark of triumph in his eyes. "I do."
The arena erupted in a chaos of whispers. It had been over forty years since the Ancient Lord had last taken a personal student.
(Flashback: A few minutes before Nero entered the arena.)
Mooai had pulled him aside, her voice low and urgent. "Listen, the Ancient Lord is the strongest of them all. He hasn't taken a disciple in decades. The chance of him choosing you is zero. Don't get your hopes up."
Nero had simply smiled. "Then I'll just have to make an opportunity he can't ignore."
---
The Truth of the Fragments
Later, in the Ancient Lord's secluded sanctuary, the air was thick with the scent of old scrolls and incense.
"So, child," the Ancient Lord began, his back to them as he gazed out at the twilight. "I already knew you were an outsider. What I wonder is... why are you here? What is your true purpose?"
Nero hesitated.
Mooai, standing at the side, whispered a sharp warning. "Nero, please, this time, do not lie. The consequences will be far worse than any battle."
Nero took a deep breath, clenching his fists. "Master, I am here to become strong."
"And why is that?"
"Because I hate being pathetic!" Nero's voice was raw, filled with a history of powerlessness. "I was born weak, but I refuse to die weak. I want to become the strongest of all. I know it sounds selfish... but that is the core of it. That is why I am here."
The Ancient Lord turned, a knowing, almost mocking smile on his lips. "Obsidian sent you."
Nero remained silent, which was confirmation enough.
The Ancient Lord let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Huh. He thinks he can stop what was destined to come. Just like you, another... Gate User... came here centuries ago and saved Anandvana from a great calamity. He was a hero." The old master's eyes grew distant. "But in the end, even he could not escape the final price."
Nero's composure broke for a second. "I know. And I have seen it too—what is coming." He stepped forward, his voice earnest. "Master, I know it is rude of me... but if the chaos destined for Anandvana is because of the Eternal Fragment, then why not just give it to someone like Obsidian? Why keep it here and risk everything?"
The Ancient Lord's mocking smile returned. "Haha, you foolish child. You still do not understand what the Eternal Fragments truly are, do you?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a grave whisper. "They are not mere weapons or sources of power. They are seeds. The primordial seeds from which new universes are born. They are the source of all life, the very embryos of creation."
Nero felt the revelation like a physical blow, his mind reeling. Seeds for new universes? Everything he thought he knew was turned upside down. Destroying it wasn't just stopping Aekai; it was committing cosmic genocide on a scale he couldn't fathom.
"Now, go and rest," the Ancient Lord commanded, his tone final. "Your true training begins at dawn."
---
A Looming Vision
Later, in their quarters, Nero and Eri processed the day's events.
"These masters... they're unbelievably strong," Nero murmured, staring at his hands. "Each one of them could hold their own against a Gate 5 User. And the Ancient Lord... his power feels bottomless. If Anandvana has protectors like this... then what about the vision we saw?"
Eri's face was somber. "The vision was too real, Nero. The destruction... it was absolute. Even with all this strength, the future we saw didn't change."
(A brief flashback: Before coming to Anandvana, Nero and Eri had shared a horrific vision—the entire continent in flames, the white marble cities shattered, and a shadow of absolute nothingness consuming everything. It was a calamity beyond anything they had ever witnessed.)
Nero sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well, forget it for now. We can't solve it tonight."
With that, the momentous day drew to a close, the peace of the night belying the storm of revelation and destiny brewing within the heart of Anandvana.