Ashveil Fortress never slept.
At the heart of Earth Star's second-most feared continent, it stood like a cold blade buried in stone, pulsing with silent energy. Its towers monitored the borderlands, its corridors hosted whispers and threats, and deep below its surface beyond the strategy chambers and war forges lurked the true source of its power.
The Void Reliquary.
Jareth walked alone into the subterranean chamber. He passed rows of stasis pods, each one humming with ancient energy. Within them were relics too dangerous to display, weapons too unstable to be tested, and creatures that should have died during the last Interrealm War.
But Jareth was not here for them.
He stood before the core pedestal, a spiraling black crystal veined with red. The Sovereign Core. His SSS-rank talent manifested through a bloodline long thought dormant.
He placed one hand on the crystal, and it responded with a pulse. Not light. Not sound. But something older.
A memory.
Not his.
Not from Earth Star.
Not from this realm at all.
Visions slammed into him. Ashes raining from broken heavens. A city of bone, carved into the side of a living mountain. A woman dressed in midnight armor, standing alone against a swarm of faceless giants. Her voice echoed in his ears.
"You carry my blood. But you are not ready."
Jareth staggered back, breathing hard. It wasn't the first time he'd seen her but it was the first time she spoke.
Ayaka's voice cut through the silence. "You went deep this time."
He didn't answer at first. His vision was still swimming with stars and ruins.
"I saw her again," he said finally. "But this time… she saw me too."
Ayaka frowned. "We need to talk. Sera's intercepted something."
They left the chamber.
---
In the Black Intelligence Division simply known as the Nest, Sera projected the intercepted message onto the wall.
It was raw. Not encrypted. Deliberately open.
"To the Black heir:
The Council of Seven does not recognize your inheritance.
Appear at the Dominion Trials, or your claim will be revoked.
Failure to comply will be treated as treason.
Signed:
Patriarch Lumis of the Solari."
Sera turned. "They're forcing your hand."
"No," Jareth said. "They're giving me a stage."
He stared at the last line. The seal wasn't just a signature, it was a challenge.
Ayaka folded her arms. "The Dominion Trials aren't supposed to happen for another five cycles."
"They're accelerating the timeline," Jareth said. "To control the narrative."
"Or to bait you," Sera added.
Jareth didn't flinch. "Then I'll bite."
---
Two days later, the Dominion Arena began construction in the Skyfang Basin—a neutral zone where the borders of three families met. A place that once saw the death of four heirs during a blood-feud summit.
Jareth arrived with only Ayaka and Sera.
He was the first.
The sky burned orange with shielding arrays. The ground cracked with the pressure of layered formations. And in the center of it all, a throne stood.
Empty.
The moment he approached, a ripple swept through the basin. Teleportation glyphs activated.
And one by one, the others arrived.
The Draykos heir, draped in black flame and bone.
The Isani twins, veiled in psionic wind and mythsteel blades.
And finally, Valen Solari.
Tall. Perfect. Every step measured. Surrounded by a formation of war priests whose armor gleamed like sunfire.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Jareth stepped into the arena, eyes locked with Valen's.
The voice of the ancient Trial Keeper rang out across the basin.
"Heirs of the Realm.
This is not a duel.
This is an exposure.
You will not be tested on power.
But on dominance."
The words settled into silence.
Then the ground split open.
Hundreds of shadows rose from beneath the arena not illusions, not puppets.
Assassins. Wraiths. Real enemies.
The Trial had begun.
And the first rule of the Dominion Arena was simple:
Survive.
---
Steel met fang. Flame met void. The arena erupted.
Jareth moved like a storm laced in gravity. Every strike collapsed space around it. He didn't just fight, he warped the battlefield. Enemies broke against him like waves.
Ayaka fired from the high ground, her precision bolts curving mid-air with mind-weaving tech. Sera locked down sectors with illusion storms, trapping entire squads inside loops of repeating reality.
But it was Jareth who tore the first elite apart.
A masked spear-wielder descended, marked with Solari crests. His movements were sharp, elite-trained. A feint. A twist.
But Jareth had already seen the flaw.
He caught the spear mid-flight, flipped the man over with raw force, and cracked his neck in a silent, brutal motion.
Valen Solari watched from across the chaos, lips curling slightly.
It wasn't over. Not yet.
From the eastern gate came a new presence.
She wore black. Her eyes glowed like duskfire.
And she was very, very familiar.
Sera gasped. "Is that…?"
Ayaka cursed.
Jareth stared.
It was the woman from the vision.
But she wasn't just a memory anymore.
She was here.
Alive.
And walking toward him.