Chapter 965

Chapter 965: 965

In a single, fluid displacement of space, Yuki materialized directly in their path, her cold presence cutting off their skyward trajectory like an absolute wall.

The two Paragons ground to an abrupt halt, their auras flaring briefly before settling as they recognized her figure.

"Your Highness," both figures said in unison, offering a synchronized, polite bow in mid-air.

Yuki’s brow furrowed, her eyes darkening with a frigid, lethal light. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her coiled whip, the leather creaking under the sudden spike of her pressure. She skipped all pleasantries.

"I care little for reverence," she said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp register. "Your current movement was neither reported nor briefed to me, which constitutes a direct breach of our agreement with the Empire."

The Paragon on the left wearing a faint, practiced smile that didn’t reach his eyes stepped forward slightly, raising his hands in a soothing gesture. "This was a direct directive from the Emperor himself, Princess. He believes that with the overwhelming advantage posed by our alliance, it is far wiser to press our lead immediately and completely overwhelm the remaining Paragons of the Silver Kingdom."

Before Yuki could voice her protest or order them to stand down, the second Paragon chimed in, his tone smooth, smooth, and infuriatingly condescending.

"The Emperor’s goodwill should not be so lightly opposed, Princess," he said, the polite smile on his face setting Yuki’s blood on fire. "It will do you and your people a great service to accept the hand reaching out to help you. With all due respect, of course."

The second Paragon stepped in smoothly, his tone far lighter and more placating than his partner’s.

"What my colleague meant to say, Your Grace, is simply that extreme caution is advised," he said, offering a subtle, conciliatory bow. "The Paragons of the Silver Kingdom are cornered. Seeing that their total defeat is now an absolute certainty, there is a high probability they may resort to self-destructive measures out of sheer desperation."

Yuki’s frown deepened as the gravity of his words settled in. A dark, unwelcome prospect began to take shape behind her eyes.

The probability might be small, but the reality was absolute: a single Paragon choosing to detonate their own divine core or unleash a pyrrhic, realm-tearing technique could turn a guaranteed triumph into a bitter, hollow victory.

More importantly, if such an act dragged her own Paragons into the blast radius and claimed their lives, the consequences would be catastrophic. Winning this war would mean nothing if her high-tier combatants were wiped out in the process. The newly conquered lands and territories would be left entirely defenseless, ripe for the taking by any neighboring power, including the very Empire currently offering its "goodwill."

Her jaw tightened, a sharp scowl cutting across her features as she weighed her options. She hated being maneuvered, but logic dictated her move.

"Follow me," Yuki ordered coldly.

Without waiting for their response, her figure shot upward like a silver streak, leading the two Imperial Paragons into the upper atmosphere to join the decisive battle raging in the void above.

As she tore through the clouds, her mind raced, calculating the steep cost of this sudden imperial generosity. Knowing her brother Chen and the cold, transactional nature of their relationship, she was under no illusion that his aid was a gift. Everything with Chen came with an extortionate price tag.

The true prize was obvious "the Towers".

If her alliance secured total victory in this war, two unowned Towers would fall directly into her hands. Chen’s interference made his motives clear, he was positioning himself to claim one for his own agenda.

She cast a sidelong, frigid glance at the two Imperial Paragons soaring silently behind her. A realization began to crystallize in her mind. Her brother was no longer just playing defense within the imperial court, he was actively expanding his chess pieces. For the longest time, almost every major power in the empire remained fiercely loyal to their father, leaving Chen isolated.

The auction granted him two towers, one for himself and the other surely for a figure he believe would serve as an ally, as such would grant him an absolute, unshakable loyalty.

By granting another Tower to a key figure, Chen could effectively build a faction that answered exclusively to him, completely bypassing their father’s long-standing grip on the realm’s high-tier combatants.

Yuki’s whip hummed with a quiet, dangerous energy as she neared the vacuum of space. Her brother was playing a dangerous, long-term game, leveraging her war to build his own empire within an empire and if she wasn’t careful, the victory she bled for would become the foundation of his rise.

Yuki’s scowl deepened into a lethal line as she neared the edge of the atmosphere.

She would be an absolute fool to hand over a single Tower. Let the Empire take a generous slice of the newly conquered land, let them claim tax rights or resources, she would gladly parcel out territory to pay off the debt. But a Tower? Never. A Tower was a fundamental anchor of realm authority, a strategic battery capable of shifting the balance of a paragon’s power. Handing one to Chen was tantamount to placing a dagger directly into her own back.

More than anything, this war had laid bare a dangerous reality, she was slowly being dragged back into the bloody, convoluted chessboard between her brother and her father. The moment this conflict concluded and the Silver Kingdom’s borders were redrawn, she would sever all official ties with the Empire once again. She had not bled on these battlefields merely to become a pawn in Chen’s bid to overthrow their father’s legacy.

Meanwhile, across the borders of the continent, the neighboring mortal realms watched the sky with bated breath.

The fall of the Avatar and the violent displacement of the battle into space had shattered any remaining illusion of neutrality. For the surrounding kingdoms that had been biding their time, the moment of absolute choice had arrived, forcing two distinct paths upon their rulers.

Option One was to send their forces into the fray immediately to curry favor with the winning side, Björn’s terrifying, blood-soaked tide.

Option Two was to cling to their borders, stay their hand, and pray they could survive whatever monstrous power emerged victorious from the ashes.

For those who already held treaties or considered themselves historical allies to the people of Björn, there was no hesitation. Recognizing that the Silver Kingdom’s authority was crumbling in real-time, war horns sounded across neighboring borders. Armies were summoned, banners were raised, and armored legions began to march, eager to throw their weight behind the winning tide and secure a seat at the table when the new world order was carved up.

They were no fools. The two super kingdoms of their continent were locked in a war to decide who would rule the entire land. Whoever emerged victorious would demand that every other kingdom fly their flag. Waiting for the war to conclude before choosing a side was absolute suicide. A choice had to be made now and whatever the cost, they would have to live by that choice.

The winning side would naturally show grace and favor to those who stood with them in their time of need. But those who stood by, watching passively from the sidelines? They would inevitably be met with an iron fist once the dust settled.

So, as the world shattering clash of the Paragons raged in the sky above, the mortal realms down below finally made their moves. War erupted across the entirety of the northern continent.

Each passing day, a new Paragon from the surrounding kingdoms took to the sky, deploying their power in support of the faction they chose to backed. Even with the harsh constraints on their mana reserves, they pushed their limits, determined to make sure their loyalty was etched into the annals of this conflict through blood and action.

While the skirmishes of the lesser kingdoms flared across the continent, the duel in the dark expanse of space was operating on a completely different level of existence. Ragnar and Björn had yet to even reach the peak of their clash, their collision evolving into a brutal, conceptual grindstone.

Both were weapons implicitly fashioned to destroy one another, but this was especially true of Ragnar. It was glaringly obvious to Björn that the young king’s very law had been birthed for the sole purpose of countering him.

Before him, Ragnar fought like a far more dangerous, battle-hardened realization of what the Avatar had tried and miserably failed to be. The construct had merely tried to mimic the combat style, but it lacked the sheer, suffocating execution. It could never truly emulate just how deeply annoying this specific usage of law could be in the hands of a master.

Even with Björn’s hyper-adaptive warlike physiology, a body that re-engineered its own biology and divine structure on the fly, there was a stubborn, absolute constant in Ragnar’s power. The parasitic freezing energy was an unyielding virus. No matter how many times Björn mutated his flesh, inverted his blood flow, or altered his physical composition, his body simply could not purge the chill once it established a foothold.