Chapter 446: First Appearance
(10 Minutes Before the Fight, Official Broadcast Begins)
The arena lights dimmed for a brief second before erupting back to full brilliance as the official broadcast feed went live across every screen in the Cult’s network, and simultaneously, to thousands of independent viewing centers across neutral planets that were controlled neither by the Cult nor the righteous faction.
Floating camera drones whirred into motion, gliding across the upper tiers of the colossal Sir Lewis Hamilton Arena, capturing sweeping shots of the packed stands as cheers rose like a wave and flags bearing the Cult’s emblem fluttered in the artificial breeze generated by the open air vents overhead.
The broadcast screen split briefly into three panels : one showing the roaring crowd in their thousands, one locked onto the twelve Elder VIP boxes where stoic, masked faces looked down at the arena, and one trained on the long, torchlit passageways that connected the warm-up rooms to the main battlefield, still empty for now, but thick with the anticipation of what was about to unfold.
A moment later, the audio feed kicked in.
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!" came the smooth voice of the lead commentator, cutting through the ambient noise of the stadium. "I’m Joe, and with me here today is Dana, and we are honored to be your commentators for what promises to be a once-in-a-lifetime event."
"That’s right, Joe," Dana’s voice followed, sharp and clear, tinged with excitement. "It’s a historic day at the legendary Lewis Hamilton Arena, where in just a few short minutes, we will witness the crowning of the next Dragon, the Cults’ newest spiritual leader after a vacuum of 32 years."
The camera shifted again, this time panning across the first few rows of the crowd, zooming in on fans holding banners in support of the dead dragon Noah, where the slogans read.
"RIP legend, your successor is finally here!"
"We miss you, Lord Noah"
And
"The Dragon shall fly again...."
As sentiment seemed strong amongst the masses.
"And just look at this crowd," Joe continued, the camera now focusing on a young child sitting on their father’s shoulders, face painted in silver and red, waving a small Cult flag with unrestrained enthusiasm. "You can feel the electricity in the air today. Everyone here knows they’re about to witness history in the making."
Dana chimed in as the broadcast flashed again to the long stone tunnel behind the arena stage, lined with sigils and glowing runes that shimmered faintly, awaiting the footsteps of its chosen warriors.
"And it’s not just the audience feeling the nerves, Joe. The Elders have all arrived, and while they might be keeping a tight lid on their emotions, you can tell the stakes are heavy. Every move, every glance, every nod from those private boxes carries a weight that extends far beyond this battle."
The camera zoomed in on the Fourth Elder’s VIP box, where he sat with a tightly composed expression, arms folded over his chest while his aides whispered behind him, eyes flicking constantly between the arena floor and the tunnel entrance.
Then it shifted smoothly to the First Elder, whose calm demeanor and steady gaze stood in stark contrast to the restless energy of his peers, as if he were the only one truly prepared for whatever outcome might come.
Back at the center of the feed, the arena floor remained pristine and untouched, the white stone stage stretching fifty meters wide, with its enchantments still dormant and its boundaries marked by softly glowing lines of violet mana that traced the edges of the combat zone.
"And there you have it," Joe said, his tone dropping just slightly for dramatic effect. "This is the battlefield upon which the fate of our Cult will be decided."
"The fight is scheduled to begin in exactly ten minutes, folks," Dana added, his voice rising. "And we still don’t know if Leo Skyshard has broken through to the Transcendent Tier or not. That mystery is hanging in the air like a blade over Veyr’s neck, I’m sure he shall be nervous to see what’s the truth regarding his opponents true power.
But If Leo is still a Grandmaster going in, then the odds are heavily stacked against the Rodova Circuits Champion."
"But if he has... oh, if he has..." Joe mused, trailing off as the screen flashed again to the still-closed gate of Leo’s tunnel, where a faint red glow now shimmered softly from behind the door.
"Then we may be in for the fight of the century."
The camera lingered for a heartbeat longer on that gate, before cutting back to a wide-angle view of the entire arena, only for the entire screen to be swallowed in gold the very next second, as a beam of divine light descended from the sky like judgment itself.
The light struck the edge of the battlefield with thunderous force, yet no sound followed, only silence.... total, consuming silence.... as if the entire world had forgotten how to breathe.
A singular silhouette emerged from within that light. Cloaked in layered black robes lined with silver veins, with a long sword strapped to his back and black hair cascading past his shoulders, he descended slowly, feet never touching the ground until the light delivered him to the arena floor.
Then the sound returned, not as a whisper but as a tidal wave.
"OH MY STARS—JOE—JOE—THAT’S HIM!" Dana’s voice cracked, eyes wide as saucers, hand trembling as he grabbed Joe’s arm mid-broadcast. "THAT’S....THAT’S LORD SORON!"
Joe nearly dropped his headset, the words spilling out of his mouth in a frenzy. "This isn’t a vision! This isn’t a projection! This isn’t a recording! That’s HIM! In the flesh! Lord Soron! OUR DIVINE LORD! He’s here! He’s actually here!"
The camera feed spasmed trying to adjust to the aura radiating off him, struggling to contain a figure the world itself seemed unworthy to frame.
Pandemonium erupted.
People screamed. Wept. Fainted. Entire rows of the audience collapsed into sobbing worship.
Every hand raised in reverence.
Every head bowed in unison.
Dozens tried to throw themselves over the rails of the stands just to be closer to him. Veterans of war and rankless civilians alike dropped to their knees without hesitation, praying and thanking the protector.
"He’s the sword that ended the Holy Revolt!" Dana shouted over the roar, voice breaking again. "The Timeless Assassin’s Heir! The Cult Of Ascensions Sect Master!"
"The greatest warrior alive," Joe added, voice reverent now, low and shaking. "The nightmare that the eternal sovereign can never forget."
"The God we follow," Dana whispered.... As even he and Joe turned teary eyed when seeing Soron in the flesh.
It was the Great God’s first public appearance in over a century, and the crowd lost their minds just to see that their divine protector was still alive and healthy.
Soron said nothing, he did not acknowledge the crowd, nor did he glance towards the Elders, as he simply walked to the edge of the arena and created a throne made of stone with the flick of his wrists before sitting on-top of it cross legged, as he made his intention to stay and watch this match abundantly clear to everyone.