Chapter 5: The Shattered Gala
The Royal Capital was draped in silver and blue, celebrating the "Mid-Term Star Festival." In the original script, this was the night of Kyle's social ascension. Having "miraculously" recovered from his injuries, the Hero was supposed to debut a new, celestial swordsmanship style, dance with Princess Elena, and officially brand Alaric as a jealous loser in front of the entire nobility.
But as the heavy gold doors of the Grand Ballroom swung open, the music didn't just stop—it died.
Alaric von Ravenstone didn't walk; he commanded the space he occupied. He was dressed in high-collared black silk, embroidered with violet thread that seemed to move like smoke. At his side, Princess Elena walked with a stride that made the Royal Guards instinctively step back. She no longer looked like a fragile flower of the state; she looked like a storm draped in diamonds.
[ WARNING: SCRIPTED EVENT DETECTED ]
[ EVENT: "THE HERO'S VINDICATION" ]
[ STATUS: DEVIATING... ]
"Alaric!"
A voice rang out from the center of the hall. Kyle stood there, his arm in a ceremonial sling that he dramatically cast aside. His eyes were burning with a golden light—the Sovereign had clearly pumped him full of "Desperation Buffs."
"You stole the glory of the Southern Tomb," Kyle shouted, drawing a gleaming white rapier. "I felt it! The Holy Light was meant for me, but you used your foul ducal influence to claim it! You've even corrupted the Princess with your dark arts!"
The nobles began to murmur. In the script, this speech would have sparked an immediate outrage against Alaric.
Alaric didn't even look at Kyle. He turned to a waiter, took a glass of champagne, and took a leisurely sip.
"Corruption?" Alaric finally spoke, his voice carrying to every corner of the room without him raising it. "Kyle, you talk about the 'Script' as if you've actually read it. You think the world owes you victory because you're 'good'?"
"I am the Chosen One!" Kyle roared. He lunged, his body trailing gold particles. He was using a forbidden skill: [Chronos-Step]. To everyone else, he became a blur.
[ Skill Detected: Temporal Manipulation ]
[ Proficiency: MAX ]
[ Skill Evolved: Eternal Stillness ]
To Alaric, the entire ballroom turned into a frozen photograph. A single bubble of champagne hung suspended in the air. Kyle was frozen mid-lunge, his face contorted in a "heroic" snarl.
Alaric walked calmly through the frozen crowd. He reached out and gently adjusted Kyle's sword arm, pointing the blade toward a nearby decorative pillar. Then, he walked behind Kyle and leaned in, whispering into his ear—though Kyle couldn't hear him yet.
"The Sovereign is a bad writer, Kyle. He gave you a sword, but he didn't give you a soul."
Alaric snapped his fingers.
Time slammed back into motion.
Kyle's momentum carried him forward, but instead of piercing Alaric, his sword buried itself three inches deep into a solid marble pillar. The vibration traveled up the blade, shattering the bones in Kyle's wrist.
"Gah!" Kyle collapsed, clutching his arm.
"Is this the 'Hero' the Kingdom is pinning its hopes on?" Alaric asked the crowd, his 99 Charm turning the nobles' confusion into instant disdain. "A boy who can't even aim a strike in a room full of witnesses?"
"Alaric, enough!"
The Crown Prince, Elena's brother, stepped forward. He was the one who had authorized the butler to poison Alaric. "You've gone too far. Your house is under investigation for heresy. Guards, seize him!"
The Royal Guard moved—forty men in enchanted plate armor.
Elena stepped in front of Alaric. She didn't draw a sword. She simply raised her hand, and a shockwave of pure, white-hot mana—the refined "Holy Blessing"—pulsed outward. The guards were blown back like leaves in a gale, their armor denting as they hit the walls.
"The Ravenstone House stands with me," Elena declared, her voice ringing with the authority of a True Queen. "And I stand with Alaric. If you call him a heretic, you call the Crown itself a liar."
The ballroom was silent. The "Sovereign's Script" was now a charred ruin.
[ SCRIPT INTEGRITY: 15% ]
[ WORLD LOGIC COLLAPSING... ]
[ THE SOVEREIGN IS ATTEMPTING A 'SYSTEM RESET' ]
Suddenly, the sky outside the ballroom windows turned a bruised, bleeding red. The ground began to shake. This wasn't a monster attack; it was the Author trying to "delete" the save file.
"He's throwing a tantrum," Alaric muttered, looking at the cracks forming in the air—literal tears in the reality of the world.
He looked at his Status Window, which was now flickering with infinite power.
"Elena, take the guests to the inner sanctum. I have to go have a word with the 'Writer.'"
Alaric looked at his shadow. "Void. Come out."
The Fate-Stalker rose from the floor, now twice its original size. Alaric stepped onto the creature's back and, with a single leap, crashed through the ceiling of the ballroom, flying straight toward the "Eye" opening in the clouds.
[ UPDATED STATUS ]
Attribute Value
Current Task Assassinating God
New Skill Reality Erasure (MAX)
World Divergence 92% (NON-REVERSIBLE)