For a mont after the surge around Cornelia ca to an end, the entire arena seed suspended in a strange, fragile stillness, as if even the air itself had grown cautious, unwilling to move too quickly after witnessing sothing that had shattered the limits of their understanding.
Cornelia remained seated within the now quiet palm, her long brown curls resting softly over her shoulders, her expression serene, untouched by the storm of reactions surrounding her, as though the power that had just surged through her had not shaken her, but instead settled into her like sothing that had always belonged there.
No one spoke.
Not the Emperor level powerhouses.
Not Lord Vord.
Not even Elder Achilor.
They all simply watched her, trying to reconcile what they had just seen with everything they had believed before this mont.
And then—
The ground trembled again.
This ti, it was not focused on Cornelia.
It spread.
Wide.
Deep.
Like sothing beneath the arena had awakened.
A low, resonant sound rolled through the colosseum, not loud, but heavy enough that it pressed against the chest of everyone present, making their breaths uneven, their thoughts stall.
"...Again...?"
Soone whispered, their voice thin with disbelief.
"Sothing is happening again..."
The massive clawed structure that had tested Cornelia did not move.
It remained still.
Silent.
But elsewhere—
The ground cracked.
Not violently, but with a slow, steady expansion, as if the earth itself was being parted by an unseen force.
And then—
Another hand erged.
Larger than the first.
More imposing.
Its claws sharper, its surface darker, etched with patterns that seed older, deeper, carrying a weight that made even the earlier transformation look incomplete.
Gasps broke out imdiately.
"Another one?!"
"Why is there another palm?!"
"This has never happened before!"
The voices rose again, filled with confusion, fear, and awe, as their eyes followed the rising structure.
But before they could even begin to process it—
The ground cracked again.
A second rupture.
A second ergence.
Another clawed hand rose beside the first, mirroring it, yet distinct in its presence, as if each one carried a purpose of its own.
Now there were three.
Cornelia still seated in the first.
And two more—
Standing, waiting.
The arena fell into chaos once more.
"This is impossible!"
"The test is only supposed to manifest once!"
"Why are there three?!"
Even Elder Achilor’s composure cracked, his brows drawing together as he stepped forward, his gaze sharp, scanning the newly ford palms with a depth of focus that bordered on urgency.
"...This is not part of the lineage test..."
He muttered, his voice low but heavy.
"...This is sothing else..."
Lord Vord’s earlier excitent faltered, replaced by sothing more cautious, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the two new palms.
"...What is this...?"
He whispered, his tone uncertain for the first ti since his breakthrough.
"...What kind of phenonon are we witnessing...?"
At the center of it all—
Ivira and Faith stood side by side.
They had watched Cornelia’s transformation.
They had felt the surge of power.
They had seen the reactions of the crowd.
And now—
The two new palms stood before them.
Waiting.
Calling.
Ivira’s silver hair swayed gently as she looked at the massive clawed hand before her, her red eyes reflecting its dark surface, her expression calm, yet filled with a quiet curiosity.
"...It feels..."
She spoke softly, her voice almost lost in the noise around them.
"...Warm..."
Faith stood beside her, her long black hair cascading down her back, her gaze fixed on the other palm, her lips parting slightly as she felt the sa pull.
"...It feels like..."
She hesitated, trying to find the right words.
"...Like it is calling ..."
Their voices were quiet.
But their reactions—
They were unmistakable.
Neither fear.
Nor hesitation.
Only—
Acceptance.
Around them, the Moonshade family began to murmur again, their earlier awe turning into confusion.
"...Madam Ivira..."
"...Madam Faith..."
"They..."
"They are being chosen too...?"
Their voices carried disbelief, yet also sothing else.
Hope.
If Cornelia had reached such heights—
Then what about the other two?
The thought alone was enough to make their hearts pound.
Elder Achilor stepped forward again, his gaze now fixed on Ivira and Faith, his expression serious.
"...Do not move recklessly..."
He began, his voice firm.
"...We do not yet understand what these palms—"
But before he could finish—
Ivira took a step forward.
It was not hurried.
It was not forced.
It was natural.
As if her body had already made the decision before her mind could question it.
Faith followed.
Not because she was copying Ivira.
But because she felt the sa pull.
The sa certainty.
The two of them approached the palms, their movents drawing every eye in the arena toward them.
Cain watched.
Silent.
Observing.
Inside his mind—
"...Interesting..."
His thoughts flowed calmly, even as the situation grew more unpredictable.
"...So it did not end with Cornelia..."
His gaze lingered on Ivira and Faith.
"...The blood... it is reacting..."
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"...Or rather... it is responding..."
He did not move.
He did not stop them.
Because sothing within him—
Sothing old—
Was watching closely.
Ivira reached her palm first.
The mont her foot touched its surface—
The massive structure responded.
A low hum spread through it, the veins across its surface lighting up with a pale crimson glow.
Ivira did not hesitate.
She stepped fully onto it.
Then—
She sat.
Gracefully.
Her posture calm, her expression composed as she closed her eyes.
Faith followed imdiately after.
The second palm reacted the sa way, its surface glowing, its presence deepening as she stepped onto it.
She sat as well.
Her long black hair cascading around her as she settled into place, her eyes closing just as Ivira’s had.
And then—
The arena fell silent.
Not because they were forced into it.
But because sothing about the scene demanded it.
Three palms.
Three sisters.
All seated.
All still.
And then—
It began.
A faint glow ford beneath Ivira.
Another beneath Faith.
Different from Cornelia’s earlier surge.
Softer.
But no less profound.
The energy rose slowly, wrapping around their bodies, flowing into them, not violently, but with a steady, unwavering presence that felt... right.
"They are..."
Soone whispered, their voice trembling.
"...Receiving blessings..."
The word spread quickly.
Blessings.
Not just a test.
Not just a asurent.
But sothing greater.
Sothing that recognized them.
That accepted them.
That elevated them.
Elder Achilor stared, his eyes wide, his earlier authority completely forgotten.
"...This..."
He murmured.
"...This is beyond lineage..."
Lord Vord could not speak at all.
He simply watched, his expression frozen between disbelief and reverence.
The three sisters remained still.
Eyes closed.
Breathing steady.
As the power continued to gather around them, enveloping them, lifting them beyond what they had been before.
And in that mont—
There was no longer any doubt.
No longer any question.
They were not ordinary.
They were not simply talented.
They were sothing else entirely.
Sothing that the vampire race had never seen.
And as the energy continued to flow into them—
The entire arena could only watch.
In silence.
As the three sisters received their blessings.
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