Subtitle: Clash of Kings
Ray had been watching every move from the beginning—his senses heightened, each moment stretching out before him as if time itself had slowed. Everything moved in slow motion. His breath shallow and eyes wide, Ray saw the chaos unfold. His parents, both powerful in their own right, were locked in fierce battles—his mother against a formation genius, her precision and speed unmatched, and his father, swords clashing against the strongest fighter known for his unbreakable earth defense technique and deadly swordsmanship.
The sky trembled.
Suddenly, a streak of light tore through the air.
It passed in front of Ray in a blur—barely visible even to his trained eye. If it weren't for the iron-stage soul cultivation and the iron-grade runes etched into his eyes, he would've missed it completely. But he didn't. He saw it: the Ashbourn King, cloaked in a regal black mantle, riding a monstrous flying beast—its wings slicing through the wind with raw, thunderous power.
Then, like a storm falling from the heavens, a shadow leapt from the beast.
A silhouette soared—sword raised high into the sun-split sky. With a roar that echoed like thunder, he swung with all his might at the formation shielding the hot air balloon above. The clash of power rang through the air. The formation shimmered—wobbling violently—as cracks spidered across its surface.
And then... something worse happened.
One of the traitors—his eyes dark with betrayal—struck when no one was watching. A blow from behind momentarily caught Ray's grandfather, William, unaware. The blow threw him off balance, his feet scrambling for ground. The formation controller slipped from his grasp—spinning into the open air.
Gasps filled the sky.
The device, vital to the formation's stability, now plummeted toward the earth. Without it, the growing cracks deepened, threatening to shatter the entire barrier.
Ray's mouth fell open in horror, his pulse hammering in his ears. His hands trembled. But only for a second.
Then he moved.
With a sharp breath, Ray stood at the edge of the balloon's basket—wind tearing through his hair, heart pounding like a war drum. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two talismans: one lightning, one wind. They sparked in his hands. He had never used them together before. He didn't know what would happen.
But there was no time to hesitate.
He activated both.
Energy surged through him like a storm unleashed. In a blur of light and wind, he kicked off the edge of the basket and jumped into the sky—lightning trailing behind him.
"Ray!!" Selene screamed, her voice cracking with panic as her heart skipped a beat. Tears welled in her eyes. But it was too late. Ray was already gone—just a bolt of light fading into the stormy horizon.
She tried to chase after him, but Roxanne and Barbara held her back with firm, desperate grips. "Don't!" Roxanne cried. "You'll only fall!"
Everyone aboard watched in disbelief—the sky above them flickering with lightning, the chaos unraveling in mere heartbeats. No one could move fast enough.
Except for one person.
A child no one believed could do the impossible.
Ray.
He sliced through the air at blinding speed, the wind roaring in his ears. With a desperate reach, he caught the falling formation disk just seconds before it would've shattered on the rocks below. His soul power burned inside him like a furnace, every rune in his body flaring to keep up with the impossible velocity.
With a twist in midair, he kicked off nothing but the air itself and soared back toward the balloon, the formation disk clutched tightly in his hand.
He landed, stumbling forward, sweat dripping from his brow. His face was pale. Yet he held the disk out to William.
Ray's grandfather's eyes widened in shock—but he grabbed the controller immediately, and together, with Ray's remaining soul power bolstering it, the formation stabilized. The cracks began to shrink.
Silence swept the battlefield—followed by a gasp of disbelief.
But the enemy was not done.
The traitors moved again—five of them. Their eyes were wild. Their allegiance is now clear.
This time, the defenders were ready.
Alicia's cold gaze cut through the confusion like a blade. Her presence alone chilled the air. Without hesitation, she unsheathed her blade—soul power flaring. The sword sang with the weight of her will.
With one sweeping motion, she struck.
In an instant, the five traitors were no more—fallen without time to scream. Two were high-ranking nobles—a baron and an earl. The other three were guest elders, once trusted allies. No more.
Alicia's voice rang sharp and clear:
"Everyone prepare to apprehend anyone who attacks Formation Master William."
Her words snapped everyone into motion.
The formation—now mending—glimmered with fresh strength. But not all was safe.
Far above, the Ashbourn King hovered upon his beast, glaring down at Ray. Hatred burned in his eyes.
His plan—shattered.
But he wasn't finished.
His beast—a fearsome eagle species with wings like jagged steel—screeched as he leapt back onto its back, rising high into the sky. Then, sword flashing, he dove once more, his blade aimed straight for the weakened formation.
But before his blow could land—
A shadow rose to meet him.
A sword shimmered in the air.
Steel rang against steel with a force that echoed across the skies.
The defender? King Daymond.
The moment he appeared, gasps echoed from every corner. No one had expected him. Not here.
The two kings clashed in midair, Daymond's strike absorbing nearly eighty percent of Lucien's ferocious momentum.
Lucien's eyes widened in disbelief. "Daymond?! You're supposed to be in your castle!"
Mages and archers, seizing the moment, unleashed a storm of attacks. Spells and arrows rained down like meteors.
Lucien cursed and leapt onto his flying sword, summoning a second blade to block the onslaught. His beast, loyal but bloodied, swooped down and barely rescued him. Together, they retreated, soaring into the distance.
But not before Lucien shouted into the wind:
"Daymond! I thought you never left your kingdom. I had it confirmed—you were still in your castle!"
Daymond chuckled, his voice carrying through the air like iron.
"I was," he said, a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "But then I came in secret—hiding inside a chest. You have no idea how hard it was to breathe in there."
His gaze turned sharp.
"But I must say, Lucien—you almost got us this time. Destroying the formation was all part of your plan. But the traitors were striking at the same moment, while no one was watching? That… was clever. You turned all eyes toward the sky to distract from the dagger at our backs."
He drew his blade fully now, eyes gleaming.
"But this time, you'll pay. Be prepared to face the consequences."