The underbelly of the Citadel had become a battlefield. Stone cracked, candles toppled, and shadows twisted unnaturally in response to the clash of aura.
The Chancellor stood opposite Lucien, his dark aura swirling like a storm of black thorns. His robes whipped violently in the force of their combined power.
"You should have died in The White," the Chancellor growled, stepping forward. "But you survived… and now you dare challenge me?"
Lucien's pale eyes glinted like steel. "I am not the boy who fell into the void. I am the Sole Exception."
The air between them snapped. The Chancellor struck first—a torrent of dark energy, limbs of shadow writhing like living weapons. Lucien didn't dodge; he met it with his own aura, compressing it into a shield that shattered the assault into harmless fragments.
The ground beneath them cracked under the pressure. Sparks of corrupted energy collided with Lucien's aura like lightning striking stone.
"You rely on raw power," Lucien said calmly, weaving through the shadows with impossible speed. "Strength alone won't save you."
He struck next. Aura blades sliced through the corrupted shadows, each one precise, each one designed to destabilize the Chancellor's control over the ritual's energy. The Chancellor recoiled, fury twisting his expression.
"You're clever," the Chancellor hissed, aura flaring violently. "But cleverness cannot match eternity!"
With a swing of his hand, the shadows surged into a wave, bending reality around them. Walls warped, stone twisted, and the air burned with unnatural heat. Lucien barely stayed upright, aura coiling tightly around him.
But he was ready.
The Sole Exception moved like a phantom, every step calculated, every strike bending the battle to his will. He used the Chancellor's attacks against him, redirecting energy, exploiting openings that would kill any normal opponent.
Then, with a sudden burst of speed, Lucien leapt onto the altar, aura compressing into a spear of pure force. He drove it into the heart of the ritual's corrupted energy.
The shadow creature shrieked as it disintegrated into motes of black light. The Chancellor staggered, aura faltering for the first time in decades.
Lucien's voice cut through the chaos, low and deadly:
"This ends now. Your ambition, your cruelty, your pact with the void… all of it ends."
The Chancellor roared, launching one final wave of shadow energy, but Lucien vanished into the darkness and reappeared behind him, aura blades dancing across his form. With a precise, crushing strike, the Chancellor was sent crashing into the stone wall.
Breathless, bloodied, and furious, the man struggled to rise—but Lucien's aura coiled around him like a serpent, immobilizing him completely.
"You will answer for The White," Lucien said softly, aura pressing down, his calm voice the only sound against the chaos. "And the world will know why there is only one Sole Exception."
The Chancellor glared at him, powerless, as Lucien stepped back, letting his aura simmer, leaving the man alive… for now.
The Citadel had been shaken, the cult dismantled, and Lucien Dreamveil had marked himself not as a survivor of The White, but as a sovereign in the real world.
The game had only begun.