The Calm Before the Arena
Was that... an illusion?
Shan stood silently for a mont; his gaze fixed on Selena.
The feeling from earlier still lingered in his mind like a cold blade pressed against his throat.
He couldn’t shake it off.
No... that can’t be right.
His brows slowly furrowed.
Shan was not so ordinary disciple.
Right now, he was already standing at the threshold of the ninth star of the Astral Realm, though he had deliberately suppressed his cultivation.
Outwardly, he only revealed the strength of the fourth star of the Astral Realm.
But the truth was—
His real strength had already reached the eighth star.
A month ago, his father Shera had spent enormous resources to elevate his cultivation.
Rare herbs.
Ancient pills.
Treasures worth unimaginable wealth.
Everything had one goal.
To crush Athyst Summit Division during this Martial eting.
Shera had practically exhausted every thod he could think of to suppress Leon.
And Shan—
Was the weapon ant to achieve that goal.
Yet just now...
He had felt threatened.
By Selena.
That strange cold power...
It wasn’t simply pressure.
It was sothing deeper.
Like ice seeping directly into his bones.
What exactly is going on...
Shan stared at Selena again.
Could her cultivation actually be higher than mine?
He imdiately shook his head.
Impossible.
That thought was ridiculous.
Selena had only begun cultivating recently.
He had already cultivated for five or six years.
Long before she even entered Celestis Academy.
And she had only been here for three months.
Even with extraordinary talent, surpassing him was impossible.
Even the genius disciple with Divine Ice Bones who entered Secret Sword Summit at the sa ti as her had only reached the second star of the Onyx Realm.
There’s no way she could surpass .
His eyes darkened.
Cold ruthlessness filled his gaze.
But he suppressed the urge to attack.
Before the Martial eting began—
He didn’t want to expose his true strength.
His goal today was simple.
Win the championship.
And—Destroy Athyst Summit Division publicly.
Defeating them here would an nothing.
But humiliating them on the arena stage...
That would be unforgettable.
The thought didn’t just pass through the air—it settled, heavy and deliberate, like a blade laid quietly against a throat. No one said it out loud, but everyone felt it.
Shan finally sneered coldly.
"Hmph."
"Just you wait."
"I won’t bother arguing with you today."
"But you’d better start praying..."
"That you don’t et on the arena."
His voice carried that brittle confidence—the kind that sounded strong until you listened too closely. His jaw was tight, his shoulders stiff, like a man holding himself together through sheer will.
He turned sharply and began walking away.
Each step felt just a little too forceful. Too deliberate. Like he was trying to convince not them—but himself—that he still held control over the situation.
But just then—
A mocking voice echoed behind him.
"Tsk."
"A coward."
"Who doesn’t know how to say harsh words?"
The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be.
They slipped into the air like a needle—thin, precise, impossible to ignore.
Shan’s foot slipped slightly.
It wasn’t dramatic. Barely noticeable to anyone not paying attention.
But it was there.
A crack.
A mont of imbalance.
He almost stumbled.
His face instantly turned dark.
The shift was imdiate. Whatever composure he had been clinging to shattered in that instant. His back stiffened, fingers curling faintly as if resisting the urge to turn around and lash out.
But he didn’t.
And that made it worse.
Behind him—
Rias was laughing softly.
Not loudly. Not mockingly in the obvious sense.
Just... amused.
Her long crimson hair shimred beneath the morning light, catching the soft gold of dawn like strands of living fla. It moved gently with the breeze, framing her face in a way that felt almost unreal.
Her bright eyes curved into playful crescents as she watched Shan leave.
There was no anger in her gaze. No hostility.
Just effortless superiority.
The kind that didn’t need to prove itself.
Her expression carried pure amusent.
A kind of quiet amusent settled in, like observing soone too caught up in their own noise. The outburst fizzled without weight, more odd than threatening. Almost cute, really, how much energy went into sothing so small.
Like a figure out of myth, she moved through the room untouched by ti. Her presence did not announce itself - yet it shifted everything. Not because of noise or gesture, but how stillness bent around her. Kings might have paused mid-decision had they seen that quiet certainty. Power here wasn’t shouted. It lived in the space between breaths.
A stray breeze carried her here, this fairy who’d stumbled into the human realm by mistake - and discovered it lacked any spark.
A grin tugged at his mouth, almost breaking loose.
His mouth pressed shut, tight. Shoulders twitched when he looked aside. A soft gasp broke free, almost a sob. He held it back, just barely.
"Ouch," he whispered, so quiet it’s barely audible. "That hit harder than a slap."
Selena’s lips twitched slightly as well.
It was subtle. So subtle most wouldn’t catch it.
But it was there.
A brief fracture in her usual stillness.
For a brief mont—
Even her cold composure almost broke.
Her eyes lingered on Shan’s retreating figure, sothing sharp flickering in their depths. Not amusent like Rias.
Sothing colder.
Sharper.
Judgnt.
But she quickly regained control.
Like a curtain dropping back into place.
Her expression returned to its usual calm indifference as she watched Shan coldly.
The mont passed.
But the damage didn’t.
Because everyone present understood sothing now—
This wasn’t just a clash of words.
This was a promise.
And when the arena ca...
It wouldn’t be a fight.
It would be a stage.
anwhile—
Shan’s heart was boiling.
Coward?
She called a coward?
He wanted nothing more than to turn around and strangle Harry.
But he forced himself to breathe slowly.
Endure...
A mont of anger will ruin everything.
His fingers tightened until his nails dug into his palm.
Then he walked away without looking back.
Behind him—
The disciples of Secret Sword Summit followed in silence.
Their faces were dark with humiliation.
Only after they disappeared into the distance did the atmosphere relax slightly.
Rias stepped closer and tugged lightly at her robe before patting Harry on the shoulder.
"Well done."
"Keep it up in the future."
Harry imdiately puffed out his chest proudly.
"Hehe."
"Sister Rias, I’m not bragging."
"I might not be able to fight..."
"But when it cos to arguing..."
"I’ve never lost."
He placed a hand on his chest confidently.
"Forget one arrogant bastard."
"Even if they attack together—"
"What do I have to fear?"
The surrounding disciples slowly stepped away from him.
Their expressions were identical.
They looked at him like soone carrying a contagious plague.
Stay away.
Very far away.
No one wanted to get involved with this walking disaster.
The plaza gradually quieted again as everyone waited.
Monts later—
The doors of Erald Crest Division opened.
A tall figure walked out slowly.
Kevin.
The mont he appeared—
The entire plaza fell silent.
All the whispers stopped.
Kevin’s presence alone was enough to calm the restless crowd.
His calm gaze swept across the gathered disciples.
Then his voice rang clearly through the square.
"Junior brothers and sisters..."
"Please move to the martial arena."
Without another word—
Kevin turned and walked toward the arena.
The Martial eting—
Was finally about to begin.
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