CHAPTER 152: A CAGE OF FIRE!

Elysia stayed at Edwin’s side, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her sword as the field emptied.

The silence around them was heavy, suffocating, like the calm before a violent storm.

Her voice was low, barely audible, but laced with concern.

"This is going to get ugly."

Edwin didn’t flinch. His expression was steady, his eyes sharp.

"I’ve been through worse," he replied, though the slight tension in his jaw betrayed the weight on his mind.

He knew there was no turning back—the runes had been seen.

The Celestial Royal had recognized them. His victory was no longer a simple triumph of strength; it had become a spark that could ignite something far greater.

And in the shadows of the arena, the true battle was only beginning.

Before leaving the arena floor, Calvane slowed his steps, his armored boots echoing against the cracked stone.

The cheers of the audience had already died down, leaving only a tense silence that pressed over Edwin and Elysia like a heavy cloak.

He leaned in just enough so that his words would not carry to the crowd. His voice was low, sharp as a blade.

"If you are lying..." Calvane’s tone carried both threat and certainty.

"No one in this state will be able to protect you—not your clan, not your allies, not even your name. The Celestial Royal does not forget betrayal."

Elysia’s eyes flickered between the two men, her jaw tightening. She knew this wasn’t just a warning—it was a sentence waiting for proof.

Edwin, however, did not flinch. His breathing was steady, his gaze locked onto Calvane’s with the same steel that had carried him through the duel.

"Then I suppose," he said evenly, his voice carrying just enough bite, "it’s a good thing I’m not lying."

For a long, suffocating moment, Calvane didn’t move. The weight of his stare pressed down like a storm cloud, testing Edwin’s resolve, searching for cracks.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, he straightened. The faintest curl of disdain tugged at his mouth before he turned on his heel, his cloak sweeping the ground as he strode away to follow his liege.

The space he left behind felt colder, heavier—like a shadow had passed and chosen not to strike... yet.

The arena was still heavy with the weight of Calvane’s final words when all eyes shifted toward the Celestial Royal.

He did not need to move much. Sitting high upon his golden throne-like seat, draped in flowing robes embroidered with symbols of suns and stars, his very presence demanded silence.

The sunlight caught the edges of his robes, but it was not the gold or jewels that truly shone—it was his eyes.

They burned like twin molten suns, radiant and terrifying, carrying an overwhelming majesty that pressed down on every spectator.

To meet his gaze felt like staring into the heart of the heavens themselves. Most people in the arena had to lower their heads, unable to bear the weight of his presence.

And then—he raised a single finger.

The gesture was so subtle, almost lazy, yet it carried more force than an army’s march.

BOOOM!!

The ground trembled as a wave of searing fire erupted into existence. It wasn’t ordinary flame—it was divine fire, roaring alive as if the heavens themselves had opened to unleash judgment.

The fire surged around Edwin and Elysia, spiraling upward with frightening speed.

In moments, the two of them were trapped inside a dome of blazing inferno. The flames twisted like living serpents, their crackling roars echoing across the arena, drowning out the terrified gasps of the crowd.

The air itself seemed to boil, forcing those nearby to step back in fear.

The blazing walls reached so high that they blotted out the sky above Edwin and Elysia, enclosing them as if the gods had locked them inside a cage of punishment.

Gasps and cries broke from the audience. Some covered their mouths, horrified, while others whispered in awe.

The Celestial Royal had not even stood. He had not shouted. With just a finger, his subordinates fire them.

For Edwin and Elysia, the heat was suffocating. Sweat drenched their foreheads. The ground beneath them cracked and glowed red from the intensity, as if they stood on the skin of a volcano.

Their instincts screamed at them to flee, yet there was nowhere to run.

The Celestial Royal’s eyes did not waver. To him, this was not cruelty—it was law.

People screamed and stumbled over one another, shielding their faces from the searing light.

Mothers pulled children close, warriors raised their arms to protect their eyes, and even seasoned elders trembled at the sheer fury of the firestorm.

Inside the raging inferno, Edwin and Elysia fought to breathe. Heat pressed against them like a thousand burning hands.

Their vision blurred, and the wall of fire surged closer, as though alive—hungry, merciless.

Sparks clung to their clothes, tiny embers that stung their skin like venomous insects. The sound was deafening, a continuous roar like an army of monsters shrieking in rage.

"Elysia!" Edwin shouted, voice raw from the smoke clawing his throat. He raised his arm in front of her, every muscle in his body tense.

"Stay behind me!"

Her eyes, reflecting the violent dance of the flames, burned with equal determination. Her knuckles whitened as she tightened her grip on her sword, the blade trembling under the oppressive heat.

"Do you think I’d let you take this alone?" she snapped, her voice sharp but trembling with defiance.

The fire pressed closer, circling them tighter and tighter, leaving no room to move, no room to breathe.

The flames twisted into shapes like snarling beasts, their jaws snapping as if eager to tear the siblings apart.

Sweat rolled down Edwin’s face, and Elysia’s hair clung to her cheeks, damp with both heat and fear.

And then—

"ENOUGH!"

The word cut through the roar like thunder splitting the sky.

Two figures emerged from the wall of fire, as if the inferno itself bowed to their will. Their silhouettes wavered in the flames before bursting fully into view.

It was Elysia’s father. His cloak billowed, scorched at the edges, yet he walked through the fire unflinching.

His hand was outstretched, radiating power, forcing a barrier between the flames and his daughter.

Beside him strode Edwin’s father. His armor bore the scars of countless battles, yet his eyes burned brighter than steel as he planted himself firmly in front of his son.

The fire hissed furiously, lashing at the men’s defenses, but it did not consume them. Sparks exploded on invisible walls of energy, scattering harmlessly like broken stars.

Both men sank to one knee, bowing their heads low, their bodies trembling not from the fire but from the overwhelming pressure of the one seated above them.

Their voices carried a desperation that silenced the crowd.