Chapter 8
Everyone in the grand colosseum had to admit it—they were momentarily stunned by the earthling's last attack.
The sheer amount of Aura Raven summoned was staggering. An attack of that magnitude would have left most Tier Three warriors on the brink of death. Even a Tier Four would struggle to walk away unscathed.
And yet... the result was nothing short of jaw-dropping.
Standing just a few meters away on the very same stage, untouched and unfazed, was Kraven—the elusive God of War himself.
Despite the ferocity and speed of the strike, Kraven had not only evaded it but done so effortlessly. Not a strand of his hair was out of place. The black cloth still draped over his eyes somehow made his expression unreadable, but Raven could feel the disdain radiating from him—pure, unfiltered contempt.
"I see," Kraven said, voice laced with disgust. "I was wrong about you."
He clicked his tongue and scoffed, his words slicing sharper than any blade.
"You mortals are all the same—weak. Pathetic. Disappointing."
He had hoped, just for a moment, that this battle would bring him even a flicker of thrill. But that hope had been crushed beneath the weight of reality.
Kraven could end it now—one strike, and Raven would be gone. But that wouldn't be satisfying.
"Hey, Ling," Kraven called out, casually strolling toward Raven with slow, deliberate steps. His tone was calm, almost playful, yet the threat beneath it was suffocating.
"If you've got any trump card left, you'd better use it now. Because you won't get another chance."
Raven's body tensed.
Something had changed. The atmosphere had shifted.
Kraven was getting serious—and that was the worst possible news.
He couldn't afford to hesitate. If there was even the slightest chance to graze the god, he had to take it. Gritting his teeth, Raven made a grim, dangerous choice.
He closed his eyes and exhaled.
Then, he gathered every ounce of Aura within and around him—pulling it all inward, condensing it tightly around his Aura Core.
One word left his lips.
"Aura… explode."
Immediately, the core began to tremble violently. Cracks split through it like spiderwebs—until it shattered.
A shockwave of golden energy burst outward, engulfing Raven in a blinding radiance. His entire form gleamed like a miniature sun—like the God of Light himself had descended… almost.
But it still wasn't enough. Not compared to the real gods.
"I'm not done yet," Raven muttered under his breath, fighting to stay grounded as the overwhelming energy surged through his veins.
Then he vanished—turning into a streak of yellow light.
Kraven's lips curled into a smirk. He too vanished.
They collided in the center of the stage, over and over. Explosions of wind and pressure rippled through the colosseum with every impact. The ground cracked, the air howled. The sky itself seemed to respond to their fury.
From the stands, Jared blinked rapidly, trying to follow the fight. But it was hopeless. All he could see were flashes—bursts of yellow, and occasionally, a flicker of red.
His heart raced.
Is Dad winning? Or… is he losing?
The question gnawed at him, filling him with a blend of hope and dread. If it was the former, he could finally breathe. If it was the latter…
He didn't want to think about it.
Jared's question was answered sooner than he wanted.
The storm of energy on the stage suddenly ceased, the chaotic winds vanishing into silence.
A lone figure stood at the center of the ruined battlefield, engulfed in blinding yellow light. For a moment, Jared's heart soared—until the light began to fade.
And as it dimmed… so did his hope.
What was left standing sent a tremor through his chest.
It was his father—Raven—barely on his feet, blood soaking every inch of his battered body. Jagged wounds tore through his flesh—some shallow, others horrifyingly deep. His breathing was ragged, uneven, and his limbs shook as if any moment they would give out completely.
The only thing keeping him alive… was sheer willpower and the resilience of a warrior. But even that had its limits.
Raven coughed, hard, crimson spraying from his lips as he dropped to his knees with a sickening thud.
Aura Explode.
It was a reckless, devastating technique—and now he was paying the price.
His core was shattered. His body was breaking. And despite sacrificing everything…
He hadn't landed a single hit.
Kraven stood a short distance away, as untouchable as ever. Not a scratch on his skin. Not a single thread of his robes disturbed. He looked as though he hadn't even moved.
No one—absolutely no one—would believe he had just stood at the heart of that storm.
He was the embodiment of perfection.
And now, he was walking toward Raven.
Each step echoed like death knocking on the door.
"You mortals never learn," Kraven said, voice calm but sharp as a blade. "The universe may grant you opportunities… but in the end, you're still just specks of dust beneath our boots."
He drew his blade back—its edge gleaming, poised to decapitate Raven in a single motion.
Raven closed his eyes, bracing for the end. There was no strength left to fight. No breath to speak. Nothing but acceptance.
But death never came.
His eyes fluttered open.
Kraven loomed over him, an unnerving grin twisting his lips.
"You fight well. For a mortal," Kraven said, his tone almost amused. "So, I'll give you a chance."
Raven blinked through the blood in his eyes.
Kraven turned his gaze to the other Sovereigns. "Let the gods decide. If even one among us believes you should live… then live, you shall. But if not—then let oblivion claim you."
Jared's heart skipped.
There was still hope.
Surely not all the Sovereigns would be as cruel as Kraven… right?
But that hope was destined to be crushed.
Kraven was the first to speak again. "For daring to speak against the gods," he said coldly, "you deserve death."
Jared clenched his fists.
Then came Lord Tenzin.
He stared at Raven for a long, silent moment before muttering, "A fine specimen… but unfortunately, one that must be discarded. He deserves death."
Jared's breath hitched.
Hiva followed without hesitation. "Yes. He should die. No mercy."
Jared's throat tightened.
His gaze turned desperately toward the God of Pride. If anyone understood Raven's defiance, surely it would be him.
But when the god finally spoke, Jared's world cracked.
"He should die. Challenging us was foolishly prideful. That arrogance warrants death."
Jared's smile, which had barely begun to form… shattered.
Only one Sovereign remained. The Goddess of Peace, Seril.
Jared clung to her—his final beacon of hope. She had to be different. She had to see reason. She was supposed to be kind.
Seril studied Raven quietly, her expression unreadable.
At last, she spoke.
"He was a talented warrior… and deserved to live."
Jared exhaled in relief.
But she wasn't done.
"However," she continued, her voice like a dagger through the heart, "his insolence… cannot be forgiven."
A pause. Then the sentence.
"He should die."
Jared froze.
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To be continued....