Jalen glared over at Tavares, his gaze sharp enough to slice through steel.
"Are you going to attack too?" he asked, voice low and lethal.
Tavares gulped. His throat tightened. The pressure in the air was suffocating.
"O-of course not, my lord," he stammered.
Another shockwave detonated among the crowd. Elders stiffened. Disciples gasped. The proud patriarch of the Sabre Sect—known for his arrogance and unshakable pride—had just called a young outsider my lord.
Jalen didn't blink.
"I'll give you three hours to bring Elder Phil Tyrrell here," he said. "And if you fail."
He unleashed his full Sage Realm aura.
The sky dimmed. The ground trembled. Every eye widened with dread. Some weaker disciples collapsed instantly, coughing blood as the pressure of Jalen's cultivation washed over them like a tidal wave of divine judgment.
There was no longer any doubt.
This wasn't arrogance. This wasn't a bluff.
This was power.
And now they understood why their patriarch—a man who had never bowed to anyone—had become a sheep before this goliath.
"I won't fail, my lord," Tavares said, trembling. "I'll go look for him myself. Just… please spare my sect."
"I have no issue with your sect," Jalen replied. "Just Elder Phil."
"Thank you for your mercy, my lord."
"I'll make myself at home while you go fetch that scum."
"Of course," Tavares said, bowing again. He turned and called over two inner core elders. "Escort our guests to the best quarters. Treat them with utmost respect."
The elders obeyed without hesitation.
Jalen, Jaquan, and Lloyd followed them into the sect, leaving behind a crowd too stunned to speak. Tavares vanished in a blur of light, personally seeking out Phil Tyrrell.
It took several minutes before the disciples and elders began to stir again, slowly dispersing. But the tension didn't fade. The presence of Jalen inside their sect was like a blade hanging over their heads.
As for the rogue cultivators watching from afar—and the spies from other top sects and royal families—they wasted no time. Within an hour, everything that had happened was spreading across the Reign Continent like wildfire.
Even Raiden Tenison, crown prince of the Crown Kingdom, received word. He and his son Themo immediately departed for the Sword State, determined to witness this storm firsthand.
Emperors. Sect patriarchs. Sovereigns.
All began making their way to the Sword Continent not only to confirm the rumors but also to see the outcome.
___
Meanwhile, inside a luxurious guest quarter, Lloyd was anything but relaxed.
He paced the room like a caged beast, fists clenched, eyes burning.
He had waited years for this moment, for this duel. And now, waiting a few more hours felt like torture.
"Relax, son," Jaquan said gently. "It'll happen soon."
A day ago, Jaquan had tried to talk Lloyd out of killing his own father when he learned about Lloyd's tragic past. Despite everything, Phil Tyrrell was still his blood. Lloyd's biological father. But Lloyd refused. The hatred he carried was too deep, too raw. Phil hadn't just abandoned him—he had destroyed everything Lloyd had held dear. and Lloyd wants him to pay for that with his life.
"I can't," Lloyd snapped. "Not until that bastard is dead."
He caught himself, then bowed his head.
"I'm sorry, Dad. It's just…"
"It's okay," Jaquan said. "I understand."
A knock came at the door.
"Um… sirs," a trembling voice said. "Someone is here to meet with you."
"Let her in," Jalen said calmly.
He didn't need to see her to know who it was. It was his mother, Yelena Illume.
And if his judgment was correct—and it usually was—his mother is here to try and restore connection so she can exploit him and his father.
Yelena entered the room quickly, her steps graceful but desperate. She rushed toward Jalen, reaching out to caress his face.
He stopped her with a single gesture.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"I want you to give me a chance," Yelena said, voice trembling. "A chance to make things right. So we can be a family."
"A family?" Jalen echoed.
"Yes, my son. I'll abandon this sect right now. I'll return home with you."
Jalen tilted his head slightly.
"That sounds nice," he said. "But you don't get to demand a family after you abandoned one."
"I'm not demanding," she said quickly. "I just want to make up for lost time. You know, get to know my..."
"I'll tell you what," Jalen interrupted. "I'll give you a chance to prove yourself. If you succeed, I'll even recognize you as my mother."
Yelena's eyes lit up.
"Anything, my son. I'll do anything."
"Cripple your cultivation," Jalen said. "Then I'll take you up on your offer."
The words hit her like a slap.
Her eyes widened with fear.
"Anything but that, my son."
"Then get out."
"Jalen, please—"
She tried to reach for him again, but Jaquan stepped in.
Yelena turned to him, pleading.
"Jaquan, talk to him. Help him see reason. I'm his mother."
But Jaquan didn't move.
And when her pleas failed, her mask cracked.
"You ungrateful brat!" she screamed. "I'm the one who brought you into this world! How dare you treat me like I'm a nobody!"
Jalen didn't respond.
He simply turned to the elder who had let her in.
"Remove her."
The elder obeyed.
Yelena was escorted out, still shouting, her voice echoing down the corridor.
Jaquan turned to his son.
"Are you okay?"
Jalen nodded.
"Yes, Dad. I know I should probably feel something toward her. She's biologically my mother. But that's all there is between us. I feel nothing. And I think it's best that way."
Jaquan was saddened by the words—but he understood.
Jalen wasn't heartless. Far from it.
He was disciplined.
He knew that if he let his true feelings surface—if he allowed the pain, the betrayal, the longing—he might say or do something he'd regret.
And so he chose silence.
Not out of cruelty.
But out of control.