Chapter 117: Pillar One

Dawn broke over the Imperial Capital, casting a soft glow across the Grand Colosseum’s stone arches. Built from granite and runic brass, the massive arena had served as the Empire’s proving ground for three centuries.

Today, every tier of the sixty-thousand-seat stadium was packed to the brim.

Delegates from yesterday’s Sovereign Assembly filled the lower VIP galleries, while Capital nobles and guild scouts sat in the shaded boxes, talking excitedly among themselves.

High above the arena sands, floating broadcast crystals hummed softly, beaming live feeds to news networks across the provinces.

Down near the eastern tunnel, Silas Drake stood among the inner-circle fighters of Solar Crown. He wore a tailored white and gold coat trimmed with fire-drake fur, surrounded by eager reporters.

"Director Drake!" a reporter called out. "Are you confident Solar Crown will secure the top seed today?"

Drake offered the cameras a calm, arrogant smile.

"Solar Crown has held the top ranking for seven consecutive years," Drake said smoothly. "Today’s evaluations will simply remind everyone where true power resides."

His cold gaze drifted across the wide sand floor toward the northern tunnel.

Evren walked out into the morning sunlight, flanked by Amber and Zephyra.

All three wore clean, dark combat coats bearing the silver crest of Apex. They didn’t bring an entourage of aides or PR managers. They simply walked side by side, their boots crunching softly against the sand.

Murmurs rippled through the spectators as they noticed the trio.

"That’s them," a regional guild master whispered. "That’s the young man who stood up to Elder Caldwell yesterday."

"Look at Amber Sterling," another delegate muttered, leaning over the brass rail. "She’s walking completely unassisted. No cane, no limp, nothing."

Up in the highest private box, Elder Brandon Caldwell sat behind tinted glass, sipping spiced wine.

"Let them walk with their heads high for now," Caldwell murmured coldly to the councilmen beside him. "The arena does not care about clever speeches. Combat power is the only currency accepted on those sands."

Down on the central platform, Grand Arbiter Kincaid stepped forward. His polished gold armor gleamed in the sunlight. He raised his heavy gauntlet, and the stadium fell silent.

"Guild masters, combatants, and citizens of the Empire," Kincaid’s deep voice boomed across the stands. "The Guild Strength Evaluations are officially open."

He gestured toward the testing arrays spread across the arena floor.

"We will evaluate three pillars of readiness," Kincaid continued. "Mana Density and Core Resonance, Tactical Speed in simulated breach corridors, and Kinetic Impact."

He turned toward the eastern side of the field, where a thirty-foot obelisk made of dark blue resonance crystal stood embedded in runic plates.

"Pillar One will commence immediately," Kincaid announced. "Each guild will put forward one representative to channel their raw mana into the Resonance Obelisk."

"Solar Crown will set the standard," Kincaid said, glancing toward Drake.

Drake nodded to Gerald, Solar Crown’s chief battle-mage and one of the top fire specialists in the Capital.

Gerald walked up the stone steps with steady strides. He stopped before the dark obelisk, rolled up his right sleeve, and pressed his palm flat against the crystal surface.

"Ignite," Gerald barked.

Golden flames roared around his arm.

The dark obelisk glowed with a brilliant yellow light, its runic scripts illuminating from the base up and chiming with deep, resonant tones.

The energy quickly climbed past C-Rank, surged through B-Rank, and blew straight through the A-Rank threshold before settling firmly into the lowest ring of the highest band.

"Score: Low S-Rank!" the lead testing arbiter called out over the speakers, his voice booming with pride. "Resonance factor: ten thousand two hundred units!"

The Capital stands erupted in deafening cheers. Silas Drake smiled thinly, crossing his arms over his chest. An actual S-Rank score on the very first round to the Capital crowd, the outcome was already decided.

Over the next hour, representative after representative stepped up to the obelisk.

Premier Capital guilds posted respectable numbers, with their top mages illuminating the pillar to scores ranging from High B-Rank to Mid A-Rank.

Then came the provincial guilds. Depleted of resources and battered by border skirmishes, most struggled to push past C-Rank.

When a limping hunter from the Iron-Thistle Guild barely managed a strained B-Rank before stumbling down the steps, condescending chuckles rippled through the Capital boxes. To the nobles, the gap between the provinces and the Capital was an undeniable fact.

Finally, down at the registration desk, a sharp-featured official named Arbiter Varos looked down at his slate. Varos was known throughout the ministry as one of Caldwell’s loyal cronies.

"Next guild," Varos announced into his microphone in a bored tone. "Apex Guild."

He glanced sideways at his assistant and whispered, "Set the baseline dampener to standard F-Rank. No need to waste time recalibrating when their core flickers out."

Amber stepped forward from the Apex staging area.

She wore her dark combat coat unbuttoned at the collar, with the twin S-Rank Dragon-Bone Sabers resting quietly at her hips.

As she walked up the stairs, thousands of eyes locked onto her. Many still remembered the rumors from months ago... the tragic story of the crippled Valkyrie abandoned in a hospice.

Amber stopped before the resonance obelisk.

She didn’t roll up her sleeves or strike an exaggerated pose. She simply raised her slender hand and rested her palm against the dark crystal.

"Whenever you’re ready, Miss Sterling," Arbiter Varos said dryly over the comms. "Try not to strain yourself."

Amber’s lips curved into a faint smile. "All right," she murmured.

Deep inside her chest, her S-Rank core ignited.

BOOM!

A blinding explosion of crimson and gold light erupted from Amber’s body, tearing across the stone platform like a shockwave.

The wind pressure slammed into Arbiter Varos, knocking the clipboard from his hands and sending him tumbling backward down the stairs.

Behind Amber’s back, two colossal wings of pure radiant light snapped open.

They spanned thirty feet across, made of crimson fire and golden energy. Their intense heat warmed the cold morning air around her.

The resonance obelisk screamed.

The glowing energy blew past C-Rank, obliterated B-Rank, and bypassed A-Rank in a fraction of a second. It didn’t stop at Gerald’s mark... it surged straight past ten thousand units, climbing into the upper band.

CRACK!

The runic rings at the top of the spire flashed a violent, blinding crimson as the internal calibration needles groaned under the pressure.

"Resonance factor: Fourteen thousand eight hundred units!" the automated array chimed in frantic, distorted tones. "Confirmed Mid S-Rank!"

The entire sixty-thousand-seat stadium went dead silent. Nobody cheered. Nobody spoke. Hundreds of delegates in the VIP boxes stood up from their seats, their mouths hanging open in utter shock.

Up in his luxury booth, Silas Drake’s hand tightened around his crystal glass until it shattered, spilling cold wine across his trousers. He didn’t even notice.

"That’s impossible," Drake whispered, his voice trembling. "Her core was supposed to be completely shattered."

On the platform, Amber let out a calm breath. With a soft flicker, the massive wings folded inward and vanished into faint golden embers.

She pulled her hand away from the smoking obelisk and walked down the steps without sparing Varos a second glance.

"She broke the gauge," a provincial guild master gasped into the eerie silence. "The Crimson Valkyrie... she’s stronger than she ever was."

Evren smiled warmly as Amber returned to his side. "Nicely done," he said quietly.

"The crystal was a bit brittle," Amber replied, a playful gleam in her emerald eyes.

Before the crowd could recover, Grand Arbiter Kincaid’s voice cut through the stillness.

"Score recorded," Kincaid announced, completely unbothered by the broken array. "Apex Guild receives maximum points for Pillar One."

He gestured toward the northern end of the arena, where a pair of heavy iron blast doors were slowly grinding open.

"We proceed immediately to Pillar Two," Kincaid declared. "Tactical Speed and Strike Precision."