Shadow Over the Heavenly Throne

"Fourth Petal. Whisper of the Void — activate."

On the outside—nothing changed.

But inside…

Maren flinched.

At first, barely noticeable. As if she'd suddenly lost her balance—though her stance was steady. Her eyes clouded. The hand forming a water technique seal fell open. The Qi within her... collapsed.

"Wha—?"

She never finished.

It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t even an attack she could sense. It was… dissolution. Slow. Silent. Like someone was unraveling the threads of her soul and scattering them in random directions. The meridians that had moments ago carried powerful Qi—now refused to obey. As if they’d lost their rhythm. As if… they no longer recognized their master.

The water beneath her feet rippled. Not in response to her will—but because it no longer listened to her.

"No…"

Calista watched in silence.

"You feel it?" she finally asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Maren staggered back a step—and immediately tripped.

"Your Qi isn’t listening to you anymore," Calista continued. Her voice was calm. No anger. No triumph. Just fact.

Maren tried to scream, to gather the last fragments of her Qi, to force a counterattack... but nothing came. Not even a spark. As if her very energy had been cut off from her.

Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened, but no sound came. A moment later, she swayed—as if something inside her finally shattered—and dropped heavily to her knees. Then, she simply collapsed face-first into the water. Unconscious.

The domain—vanished. The water around her evaporated, as if it had never existed.

"Whisper of the Void," Calista murmured, more to herself than anyone else. 

In truth, it had two effects—both equally cruel.

The first—immediate. One moment, one touch, and the opponent’s spiritual structure would falter. For a heartbeat, their control over Qi would vanish—literally. As if someone had severed the connection to their own soul.

The second—subtle. It required time. Calista could plant her Qi inside the opponent’s body, slowly, patiently. And when everything was set… one impulse was enough. One twitch—and their Qi would stop flowing. Not temporarily. Not symbolically. Literally: it would cease to exist within their system.

But the most beautiful part…

Was that the enemy never knew when it had begun.

Until it was already too late.

No one on the stands moved.

"She... she actually did it," Sylphia whispered.

Veynessa glanced at her, then looked back at the arena. Her expression held no surprise. Only something deeper—a blend of calm and pride.

"You doubted her?" she asked gently.

"No..." Sylphia shook her head. "It’s just... I’ve never seen anything like that. That wasn’t a fight. It was an execution without touch. And I still don’t understand... Calista didn’t launch a single attack. She didn’t even move. And her opponent... just collapsed."

Veynessa smiled faintly.

"That’s her style. Silent. Precise. Unforgiving." She paused for a moment, then added, "That girl is one giant contradiction. When she fights without Qi, it’s all brute force and chaos. But when she begins to use her Qi... she transforms. As if she becomes someone else. Precision. Logic. Silence. And then the fight ends—before anyone realizes what’s even happened."

Sylphia fell silent for a moment, then added softly:

"She’s stronger than anyone thought."

"No," Veynessa corrected her. "She’s stronger than you thought. I’ve known all along."

She looked to the side—at her son, Kaelis. He sat perfectly still, eyes fixed on the arena where Calista stood. No emotion in his gaze. Only absolute focus.

Kaen smiled.

And in that instant, raised his hand.

Blue light spilled across the arena. Maren’s limp body floated into the air, and her wounds began to vanish. Kaen healed her completely. Without a word. Then he shifted her through space, placing her gently on the stands beside her family.

Calista exhaled.

Slowly, she glanced at her arm. The wound from an earlier strike was still bleeding. Her hip—slashed. Her thigh—torn. Her clothes were...

Her gaze moved toward the man sitting on the throne.

"That was my favorite dress," she muttered, feeling the fabric around her shoulder fall apart in shreds. "If I’d known that old man would pull something like this, I would’ve brought my combat gear."

this fight had been a bit harder.

She closed her eyes for a moment, analyzing the flow of her own Qi. There was still enough—not for a war, but for one solid battle. Her strategy of stalling had worked. Maren had taken the bait until the end.

But this last opponent…

Wouldn’t fall for the same trick.

She took a deep breath, then raised her head and looked to the stands.

"Next," she said calmly.

Silence answered her.

Then—crack.

A man leapt down from the stands—Renald. His frame was athletic, movements fluid, gaze cold and calculating. He landed softly, as if the weight of the air itself made way for him. The spiritual pressure surrounding him spread like heat before a storm—not wild, but focused. Every pulse of it felt like a blade honed to perfection.

Kaen snapped his fingers.

The arena trembled.

The water vanished. Every trace of blood, spiritual pressure, and battle—erased. The ground was pristine once more. 

Calista raised her eyes. She adjusted the tatters of her dress.

"You look worse than I expected," Renald said, breaking the silence. His tone was cold, almost bored.

"Funny," she replied, raising a brow. "Because after this fight, you'll be the one looking even worse."

Renald smirked slightly. There was no amusement in it.

"We’ll see."

Calista took a fighting stance. Not too deep—her body was still tired. But her hands were steady. Her breathing, controlled.

Renald vanished.

He didn’t take a step. He simply disappeared—and then reappeared right in front of her. His fist was already moving.

Calista twisted sideways on instinct, narrowly dodging the strike. She felt the air tear beside her from the force. Without hesitation, she countered with an open palm aimed at his neck.

Renald blocked with his elbow, shifted his weight, and immediately retaliated with a kick.

They clashed once. Then again. Calista stepped back with each exchange—not from lack of technique, but because she felt it from the very first impact: Renald was physically stronger. Much stronger.

Every move of his was like a hammer strike. His attacks weren’t fast—but precise, heavy, and unwavering. Calista blocked with difficulty; her arms began to tremble under the strain.

Too much power… I won’t last long.

For a fraction of a second, their eyes met.

Calista clenched her teeth and leapt back, narrowly dodging a knee strike. She swept her hand through the air—a subtle flash of Qi shimmered across the arena.

"Fifth Petal," she whispered. "Lotus Path."

In an instant, her figure vanished, then reappeared at Renald’s side, narrowly avoiding his attack.

Before he could turn, she teleported again—this time to the edge of the arena.

Calista drew a deep breath and clenched her fingers, feeling her Qi pulsing and swirling around her body.

Let’s finish this as fast as possible.