Another group of grandmasters were ambushed by Knight. Shadows burst from his form like a living storm, and a volley of black spears shot out in every direction.
The spears tore through space, appearing instantly before the Ferans and impaling several of them mid-flight.
A few managed to block with hastily summoned barriers, but before they could even take a breath, Dante appeared behind them. With a calm motion, he slashed his hand through the void, sending out a shimmering blade of spatial ripples.
The blade sliced forward and exploded into countless space fragments that shredded through flesh and Essence alike.
The Ferans roared in pain as blood scattered across the void. Dante and Knight vanished again, reappearing moments later in a different spot to continue their assault, flashes of shadow and distortion flickering like lightning across the battlefield.
"You can go too. Help Primus," I said, feeling Silver’s agitation pulse through our link.
He let out a piercing screech that shook the air, flapped his wings once, and launched himself forward like a crimson meteor. I stayed floating in place, watching him dive into the chaos.
A blinding beam erupted from his mouth, a torrent of condensed crimson energy that swallowed the Ferans below. The blast ripped through their ranks, scattering bodies and forcing several of them to disengage from their fights.
I let my gaze sweep across the battlefield.
Things were not looking good. Lyrate was surrounded by at least twenty grandmasters, her sword flashing as she parried strike after strike. Ragnar was holding his ground against more than thirty, his body glowing silver as he swung his club in arcs that sent shockwaves through the void.
Dante and Knight weren’t surrounded, they were ghosts, darting between clusters, holding back entire sections of the Ferans. Primus, however, was barely holding on, his fire dimming as more Ferans pressed on him from all sides. Silver’s arrival had bought him a moment to breathe, but that was all.
And then there was Anjee. He fought with desperation, his claws glowing gold as he roared and struck down one of his own kin. The rage in his voice echoed even over the sound of Essence explosions.
But more Ferans were beginning to close in on him too, their expressions full of fury and betrayal.
I lifted my head toward Vaelix. His golden eyes had never once left me. He stood there, arms folded, completely unconcerned with the chaos unfolding around him. The Ferans roared, clashed, and bled across the void, yet he didn’t move, he was watching only me.
It was obvious now that I’d have to step in. Our side was holding ground, but only barely.
The Ferans’ numbers and coordination were starting to overwhelm my summons. The only thing stopping me from entering the fight was him. Would he join the battle the moment I did? Or was he waiting to measure me first?
I checked my Essence storage through my interface. The numbers were dropping steadily but my Dawn Core was working overtime, refilling it almost as quickly. That steady rhythm of drain and renewal calmed me.
Locking my eyes on several Feran grandmasters, I waited until they began their next round of attacks. The moment their Essence surged forward, I raised my hand.
"[Sovereign Reversal]."
Violet vortexes bloomed across the battlefield, swirling into existence around Lyrate, Ragnar, and Primus.
They absorbed the incoming blasts—rays, claws, and bursts of pure destruction and devoured them to channel through invisible links into my generator core.
The drain on my reserves slowed immediately, the stolen power refilling my internal circuits. I saw Lyrate glance briefly my way, understanding what I had done, and push forward with renewed strength.
My gaze shifted back to Vaelix just in time to catch the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. A reaction. Small, but unmistakable.
I focused on him, pulling up the faint status window that appeared within my mind.
[Vaelix Ranthor – Level 372]
That number alone made my Essence pulse faster. He was beyond dangerous and worse, I could feel the pressure of his talent lurking behind that calm exterior.
Still, I couldn’t stop. I activated [Sovereign Reversal] again, this time targeting Primus and Anjee. More violet whirlpools spun to life around them, swallowing volleys of attacks.
Suddenly, four new Ferans burst out from the mothership and landed beside Vaelix.
The two grandmasters already behind him bowed their heads in silent respect. All four newcomers were grandmasters too, each of them radiating power in the the level 290s.
Three wore the standard black Feran robes marked with their clan insignia, but one stood out, a female Feran dressed in deep blue, her movements smooth and graceful as she hovered beside Vaelix.
"Father, who are these people?" one of the tigers asked, turning his sharp golden eyes toward Vaelix.
That word, Father , caught me off guard. A transcendent-level father and grandmaster-level son... that was something I had never seen before.
Vaelix didn’t answer right away. He stood tall, his crimson fur flickering faintly under the reflected glow of their mothership’s lights.
Then the female Feran stepped forward slightly, her hands folded neatly behind her back.
"Lord Vaelix," she said, her tone curious, "they seem powerful... and different. Especially the elf among them, when did we ever have an elf grandmaster this strong? And what is that crimson mist around them?"
Vaelix finally spoke, his deep voice cutting through the air.
"Princess Velaira," he said, "I have not seen this crimson energy before myself. As for the elf, she is as much a mystery to me as to you. But the greatest mystery here... is the man standing ahead."
All of their eyes turned toward me.
I didn’t move. I simply watched them, my focus steady on Vaelix.
But inwardly, I was more interested in how he had addressed her, Princess .
If she was a princess of the Ranthor clan, then Anjee must know of her. Maybe even be related. But right now, Anjee was barely holding on, surrounded by six Ferans at once. There was no time to ask him anything.
"I can’t see his level," Velaira said, her sharp gaze fixed on me.
"300," Vaelix replied. "He hasn’t ranked up yet... but he can, whenever he chooses."
"A human transcendent?" the same Feran who had called him father said in disbelief. "We don’t have any in our galaxy, do we?"
"No, Vynor," Vaelix said calmly. "He will be the first in the Blue Spiral, if he decides to ascend."
"Should we buy him?" Princess Velaira asked, her voice smooth and almost casual.
I almost choked on my own breath. Buy me? The idea was absurd.
"Difficult," Vaelix said after a long look at me. "I can see his pride."
"Then break him first, and then buy him," Velaira replied with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Vynor took a step forward. "Allow me to go, Father," he said, eager.
"No." Vaelix’s single word stopped him. "He is strong. You are no match."
Vynor froze, but I could see his fists clench. Defeat didn’t sit well on him. He looked furious and embarrassed all at once.
Vaelix’s gaze swept the battlefield, then landed on Ragnar. "If you want to fight, go stop that ape," he said, as if naming a task.
Vynor’s face snapped to Ragnar, and without another word he launched. He shot through space like a spear, roaring as he went. The sound rolled over the field, a raw, angry challenge that made even the distant lightning crackle.
Ragnar had just smashed his club down on another Feran’s skull when the roar echoed across the battlefield. The sound made the air itself tremble. His crimson eyes snapping toward the source.
Ragnar grinned. A low, guttural laugh rumbled out of him before it turned into a full-throated roar that shook the battlefield in answer. He slammed both fists against his chest, the sound like thunder rolling over stone.
Then he moved.
The crimson mist that surrounded his body flared outward as he shot forward. His club trailed silver ripples as he accelerated, meeting Vynor head-on.