The Shockwave After Raizel's Fall
The moment Raizel Nocthym knelt, defeated by a single move, a tremor spread not just through the academy—but across the entire Azuranis Continent.
He was the third prince of the Demonfang Kingdom. A prodigy born with a unique bloodline capable of controlling Black Flame Qi—the most destructive form of infernal fire passed down only through the Nocthym royal bloodline. It was said that even Elders had to show respect when Raizel walked by.
But now?
He had been broken—without Asura even drawing his sword.
In the Flame Kingdom, ministers halted mid-meeting, stunned as spiritual messengers brought news of Raizel's defeat. The current Flame King narrowed his eyes and whispered to his war minister:
"Keep watch on the boy. If he becomes a threat… we may need to choose a side."
In the Frost Kingdom, within a hall carved from eternal ice, the Grand Seer stirred for the first time in fifty years. Her voice echoed through the crystal walls:
"The Star of Calamity has awakened. The one who walks both divine and demonic paths… has taken his first real step."
In the Shadowfall Kingdom, deep underground in a labyrinth of black stone, masked assassins kneeled as their matriarch read the scroll, her crimson eyes gleaming.
"Asura… a soul of chaos wrapped in laughter. Dangerous. Irresistible. Just my type…"
Even in the peaceful Windspire Kingdom, monks paused their chants. The winds stopped. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.
One boy. One stomp. One empire shaken.
At the Academy – The Eye of the Storm
The courtyard remained frozen, though the battle was long over.
No one dared to approach Asura now—not even the top ten elite disciples who used to act like gods among mortals. They had seen it. They had felt it.
"He didn't even draw his sword."
"His qi alone brought Raizel to his knees."
At the center of it all sat Asura, under his cherry blossom tree. He chewed on a stick of roasted meat lazily, acting like he hadn't flipped the entire academy hierarchy upside down just an hour ago.
"Tastes bland," he muttered. "Should've stolen that girl's spice pouch…"
On his left sat Yue Lan, heir to the Moonblade Clan—arms crossed, frowning as she tried not to smile at his nonsense. On his right was Min Yori, a cold beauty from the Frost Kingdom who now insisted on keeping him "under observation" for research purposes. And behind him stood Xia Lian, a noble lady who hadn't stopped glaring at the other two girls for three days straight.
"Hmph. You might be strong, but your taste in food is tragic," Min Yori muttered, holding out a seasoning vial.
"Did you say tragic?" Asura blinked innocently. "Yue Lan, hold my meat. I'm about to kill someone with spice."
She choked on her tea, almost spilling it.
That light-hearted banter, though, couldn't mask the growing pressure building in the air. Everyone could feel it. It was like the calm before a spiritual typhoon.
And then…
Thunder Kingdom Provocation
The heavy hum of lightning qi filled the air before the footsteps even landed. Six figures approached from the edge of the courtyard, their robes crackling with electrical runes.
Leading them was Zerik Stormfang, crown prince of the Thunder Kingdom, and number four on the academy's Elite Rankings.
His presence was commanding. Eyes like thunderclouds. Muscles coiled like a coiled storm, and his hands constantly buzzed with lightning.
"Asura," Zerik called out. "You've had your moment of glory. But don't forget—this academy has rules."
Asura looked up, still chewing.
"Rules? You mean the ones that don't apply to me?"
Zerik's eyes twitched.
"You're shaking the balance. People are scared. Even the instructors are silent. That kind of power needs to be regulated."
Asura stood, stretching his arms lazily.
"So what do you suggest, Sparkles?"
"A challenge," Zerik said. "You and me. Five days. In the Battle Colosseum. No holding back. Prove you're not just a lucky clown."
The courtyard erupted in murmurs.
"Zerik's challenging Asura!?"
"That's suicide!"
"Or maybe... he might actually push Asura to draw his sword…"
Asura tilted his head, a wild grin forming.
"Fine. But don't cry when your ancestors feel your humiliation from the afterlife."
Zerik narrowed his eyes. Lightning sparked across his shoulder, forming a seal of intent.
The challenge was sealed.
Raizel's Awakening
Meanwhile, Raizel groaned within the Healing Pavilion, his body drenched in medicinal qi and divine lotus fragrance. Every muscle in his body screamed. Every bone felt foreign.
But none of that compared to the weight of what broke inside him.
He, a prince of Demonfang… had never lost before.
Never felt helpless before.
And yet, when he stood in front of Asura—
"I wasn't a warrior."
"I was an insect in front of a dragon."
His fingers clenched the sheets tightly.
He slowly rolled off the bed, ignoring the alarms.
Kneeling before a black altar he summoned from his storage ring, Raizel pulled out a blade and sliced his palm.
Blood spilled onto the altar.
"From today onward… I follow Asura. Not out of shame… but out of enlightenment."
The oath was sealed in demonic flame.
A new loyalty was born.
Lady Zhao's Secret Realm
Far beneath the academy's foundation, a sealed dimension hidden by formation arrays buzzed with divine energy. In its center stood Lady Zhao Lianhua, Asura's mother, her face serene as she gazed into a crystal pool that revealed her son's every move.
Beside her knelt a white-robed elder.
"He defeated Raizel and humiliated the Thunder Prince… he's moving faster than fate predicted."
Lady Zhao smiled softly.
"He always did love skipping steps."
The elder bowed deeply.
"Shall we proceed with the activation of the Celestial Plan?"
She nodded.
"Send invitations to the Celestial Heaven Martial Tournament. And include our son's name… as the unofficial favorite."
The Celestial Heaven Tournament: The Continent Trembles Again
Later that evening, a grand announcement echoed through all eight kingdoms:
"In thirty days, the Celestial Heaven Martial Tournament shall commence!"
Held only once every fifty years, the Celestial Heaven Tournament was no ordinary competition. It was where true monsters gathered—descendants of god-blooded clans, demon-spawn prodigies, and even hidden immortals in human guise.
"And this time, Asura… is invited."
But he wasn't alone.
The Cursed Son of the Windspire Kingdom was entering.
The Crimson Daughter of Shadowfall would be unleashed.
The 10th Vessel of the Abyssal Demon God had awakened.
And even whispers claimed… a descendant of a Forbidden Celestial would participate.
Final Scene: Under the Blossoms
That night, Asura lay under the tree again, his eyes on the stars.
A wind blew softly, cherry blossoms falling around him like snow.
His sword, still sheathed, pulsed faintly—reacting to his thoughts.
"A tournament, huh?"
"A stage full of monsters, dragons, and gods' grandchildren?"
He grinned.
"Sounds fun."
His Supreme Martial Eyes flickered, absorbing the starlight.
"Let's show them what Heaven's End really means."