The crescent strike faded into motes of silver and black, dissolving into the trembling air.
Hannas Alostrio—the man hailed as the most indomitable force of the clan—stood frozen for a breath. His aura storm, which had pressed upon the arena like a collapsing world, now lay in pieces. His pride, unchallenged for decades, carried its first fracture.
Slowly, deliberately, he exhaled. The tempest of power that had suffocated the arena drew back into his body, subdued. The air lightened; the earth steadied. Yet though the world regained balance, one figure could not.
Ryner.
His body trembled. The impossible burden of harmonizing **aura, mana, and temporal darkness** had taken its toll. Muscles tore, veins strained, and his core throbbed with unbearable exhaustion.
The boy's knees gave way. With a final gasp, he collapsed unconscious onto the shattered stage.
But even in defeat, his hand refused to yield—the **Obsidian Sword** still clutched in his grasp, its edge gleaming faintly under the fractured light.
---
### The Roar of the Crowd
For a moment, silence reigned. Not a whisper stirred in the coliseum.
Then—like a dam bursting—cheers erupted, rolling in waves.
"The boy… he defeated the Patriarch's test!"
"He's the champion! The Champion!"
"At fourteen years old… a legend is born!"
The voices of nobles, elders, and common disciples merged into one thunderous proclamation.
The announcer, struggling to keep his composure, raised his voice above the chaos:
"**Ryner Alostrio is declared champion of the Generational Star Gathering!**"
The declaration reverberated like the toll of a divine bell. A moment in history was etched.
---
### The Hall of Proclamation
Later, beneath the towering pillars of the **Grand Hall**, Ryner lay upon a cushioned seat, his body treated by the clan's finest healers. His chest rose and fell in shallow rhythm, his unconscious face calm, yet the aura of his feat still lingered around him like a crown of shadows.
Before the gathered nobles, Hannas himself stepped forward. His expression was carved from stone, yet the weight in his gaze betrayed the storm within.
Raising his hand, the patriarch spoke:
"The champion of this Gathering shall receive three rewards."
Gasps rippled through the assembly. Never in clan history had rewards been so extravagant.
Hannas's voice rang, deliberate and resonant:
**"First—A personal manor."**
A murmur spread. To grant a youth his own estate, with guards and servants sworn to him, was to acknowledge him as a power independent of his mother's influence. A clear strike against the schemes of the third wife.
**"Second—A treasure from the clan's treasury."**
The hall stirred again. To be allowed into the sealed vault was a privilege reserved only for patriarchs and select elders. And to claim whatever his hand first touched? That was a gamble of fate itself.
**"Third—"** Hannas's voice deepened, carrying across the pillars. "—A single wish, from me. Equivalent to your merits. You may ask for anything within my power."
The hall fell into stunned silence.
A patriarch's promise was absolute law. To offer one wish—without condition—was unheard of.
The elders exchanged sharp glances. Some frowned in disapproval, others in intrigue. The younger generation whispered in disbelief.
Even Ryner's fiercest enemies paled.
---
### The Reactions
The third wife's sons stiffened, rage boiling beneath their masks. Their nails dug crescents into their palms.
*Damn him… trash turned champion?*
*And now even Father grants him a wish…*
Their hearts seethed with venom. They had mocked Ryner for years, their superiority unquestioned. But now, the boy they spat on had risen above them all.
In the shadows, Alia lowered her gaze to hide her smile, but her trembling shoulders betrayed her joy. For years she had been the only one to believe, the only one to protect his dignity. Now, the world could not deny him.
---
### The Patriarch's Gaze
But Hannas's gaze lingered on the unconscious boy, heavy with contradictions.
Pity. Regret. A shard of fear.
This child had shattered the image of mediocrity he himself had helped brand. This child had woven a technique beyond the clan's comprehension. And this child—his child—had awakened both aura and mana, fused with something far more dangerous.
A son, yet an unknown. A treasure, yet a threat.
Hannas's lips pressed into a thin line. *What path will you walk, Ryner? And when you rise… will you walk beside me, or against me?*
---
### The Crowns Watching
Far above, in the realm unseen by mortals, the **five thrones of the Crowns** observed, their presence veiled by infinity.
Rune, calm and composed, spoke first, a smile brushing his lips.
"Now, the first star has lit. Let us see how he uses his wish."
Luis, ever playful, giggled like a child splashing water.
"He'll surprise everyone again, I bet! He's already painted one moon—what will he do with his second?"
The other thrones said nothing, but the silence was heavy, watching the spark of a boy who could tilt destiny itself.
---
### The Echo of a Future
In the hall below, servants rushed to carry Ryner away, but even unconscious, his hand would not release the Obsidian Sword. His body trembled, yet his grip was unyielding—as though the blade were not a weapon, but a vow.
The nobles dispersed in waves of chatter, excitement, and fear.
But in their hearts, one truth remained unshakable:
The Generational Star Gathering had birthed not just a champion—
but a storm.
And as that storm slept, silent and unreadable, the clan's foundations shivered.
For every cheer, every gasp, every whisper carried the same word across the night:
**Ryner.**
The boy who shattered his fate.
The boy who rose against the patriarch's might.
The boy who stood crowned as **Champion of the Gathering.**
**(Chapter End)**