Blackout Ascension: Return of Primordial Heir-Chapter 34: Deafening Silence

The Crystal Colosseum no longer sounded with deafening cheers or the sharp ringing of clashing steel. It was completely silent. The thick dust of the brutal battlefield settled slowly, falling like gray snowfall in the pale light of the dawn. It coated the broken crystal floor, the shattered pillars, and the cooling lava. Where once the ambient air had literally screamed with overwhelming magical power, now it only breathed residual heat and the bitter scent of burnt ozone. The ancient, towering crystal walls stood fractured, their protective magical runes dimmed and flickering weakly. They looked vigorously exhausted, as if the magic was deeply tired from witnessing something it was never meant to endure.

Beneath, on the ruined arena floor, the thick molten veins that Pyrix had summoned slowly cooled. The luminescent orange embers faded into lifeless, dull grey stone. It was the aftermath.

The packed audience, the proud King, the seasoned Generals, the arrogant warriors; all of them had left the arena right after Kairos stood victorious against Algreth. They left entirely on pure fear. Massive crowds that once roared loudly for blood and entertainment now whispered nervously in tight groups, constantly glancing over their shaking shoulders. Proud warriors who had laughed loudly and boasted imperiously before the battle now refused to meet each other’s eyes, tightly gripping their weapons with pale, white knuckles.

The arrogant King departed without giving usual grand speech, with the elite royal escorts walking tensely, their sweaty hands hovering constantly near their sharp sword hilts.

Absolutely no one saw the real, brutal battle hidden inside the time freeze. They only saw two terrifying things.

One was a literal god-tier demon corpse, lying lifeless in the absolute center of the ruined arena. Algreth’s imposing body lay shuddered, deeply charred, and hollowed out. His divine armor, which had easily withstood legendary dragon fire, was shattered like cheap glass. His once overwhelming, crushing presence, the divine gravity that forced everyone down to their knees, was reduced to nothing more than a bleeding meat sack.

The second thing they clearly saw was a simple boy. Standing unharmed. Kairos Vedaryan had stood there quietly, his glittering silver sword Asteria casually lowered to his side. His pale expression was unreadable. That specific detail was exactly what terrified them the most. If the boy had screamed loudly in wild triumph, they would have happily cheered for his victory. If he had collapsed heavily to the ground from sheer magical exhaustion, they would have rushed forward to generously help him. But he simply stood there, perfectly calm, as if killing a legend was a normal morning chore. So the world rapidly retreated, thudding their footsteps with frantic confusion in their eyes.

****

But exactly one person did not leave the stadium. Brandon Sylphyros stood alone on the high edge of the cracked battlefield. The massive stadium was empty now. The fifty thousand empty stone seats stared silently down at him like hollow, dead eyes.

His heavy boots clicked, echoing faintly as he slowly walked down the long stone stairs, moving deliberately toward the ruined center where thousands of people had frantically fled moments before. His expensive, dark velvet cloak wavered gently in the cooling wind, softly brushing against the broken fragments of crystal.

The vast, legendary arena, which felt alive with buzzing mana, now felt like a freshly dug, open grave. Brandon’s pale blue eyes were dark, bloodshot from severe mental strain. He was actively searching the ruins and desperate. He needed to understand the impossible truth.

How?

He walked slowly past the dried, crimson blood of the fallen Dragons. He walked quietly past the scorched spot where the mighty Pyrix had heavily fallen. He finally stopped near the center of the ring. The thick arena floor was dragged downward in a large boulder shape. It looked like a massive, unnatural hole. It was a deep crater stamped into the hard earth by the massive fist of an angry giant. Brandon slowed his thudding steps. His heart pounded in his chest. It was a frantic rhythm of pure fear that he did not recognize at first. He was a royal Prince. He was a proud Sylphyros. He was strictly taught that he was supposed to be above mortal fear, but his pale hands were shaking uncontrollably.

He slowly knelt down near the edge of the hollowed, broken earth. It was a boulder shaped depression. The abyss pit was smooth at the outer edges, but pulverized into fine dust right in the center. It was just... pure impact of unadulterated, kinetic force.

His trembling fingers hovered nervously just a single inch above the broken surface, hesitation crawling in his mind.

"How... how the hell did he actually do this...?" Brandon muttered angrily through tightly clenched white teeth.

His weak voice echoed faintly, swallowed by the oppressive silence of the empty arena.

In his spinning mind, conflicting images collided violently. He saw Kairos looking perfectly calm, politely smiling, looking ordinary while holding a simple book in the Academy library. He saw Kairos standing bravely before the terrifying Demon General, looking bored by threats. He saw Kairos being untouched, unscarred, and unafraid while a literal demon legend lay dead right at his dirty boots.

The simple, pathetic boy from a dirt-poor farming village. Pure rage surging through Brandon’s veins exactly like boiling, hot venom. It burned the back of his dry throat. A mere, filthy human... effortlessly killing a Demon Legend that made even my powerful royal Father violently tremble in fear...?

The dark thought tore him apart from the inside out. His tight chest constricted painfully. It wasn’t just simple jealousy anymore.

If a dirty, low-born peasant could easily do this impossible feat, then what exactly was a royal Prince actually worth? What was the true value of his precious bloodline?

A large part of him desperately wanted to purely hate Kairos and kill Kairos. He wanted to tear away that calm, annoying expression. But the darkest part of his soul... the pathetic part that Brandon hated the most... was the undeniable truth. Brandon was hellishly afraid of him.

He finally touched the cracked, ruined ground, and his pale hand remained trembling uncontrollably. His thick legs suddenly felt weak, his shaking knees threatening to just give out and collapse completely.

"That absolute monster..." Brandon whispered softly to the deep crater. "How did a simple boy like him manage to kill a terrifying thing like this...?"

His manicured fingers curled into the broken stone. Raw fear was absolutely not supposed to ever belong to him. He was pure Sylphyros blood. He was the undisputed royal heir to the throne. Yet here he was, kneeling pathetically in the dirty remains of something that absolutely should not have ever been possible, terrified of a poor boy who lived in a tiny, cramped dorm room and didn’t even own a proper set of armor.

Brandon forced himself to stand back up.

His dark eyes shifted slowly over to Algreth’s corpse lying just a few meters away inside the pit. The Demon God’s pale face was permanently frozen. It was a haunting look of shock. His pale mouth was hanging slightly open, his void-black eyes wide. It was the pathetic, broken face of a supreme being who, even in the exact moment of his own death, could not understand what had ended his eternal life.

"This fragile world shouldn’t have someone like you walking around..." Brandon whispered quietly into the wind, his voice trembling.

Kairos Vedaryan was an apex disaster.

Brandon turned away from the dead corpse. He couldn’t bear to look at it anymore. His expensive velvet cloak caught the cold breeze of the ruined battlefield as he walked toward the dark exit tunnel. The ambient air felt much viscous with every single step he took, as if the haunted arena itself resisted, letting him leave, desperately wanting to permanently keep him buried in the deep grave.

****

The Royal Palace Chamber: Hall of Solaris Dominion.

As Brandon stepped completely out of the dark, dusty tunnel and rushed into the luxurious palace wing.

Hundreds of bright torches were fully lit along the smooth walls, beautifully brightening the high, painted ceilings. The pristine hallways glittered brightly. Long, expensive banners of deep crimson and bright gold hung proudly from towering marble pillars, acting as the proud symbols of the powerful Kingdoms that had somehow survived the terrible day.

This was the official, secure gathering place for the Aftermath Council. Where the ruined arena outside smelled of burnt ash and raw fear, the grand Hall heavily smelled of expensive incense, freshly polished stone, and nervous, sour sweat. All of the surviving people, the proud Crown Princes, and the hardened High Commanders had frantically gathered here.

The nervous King of Solaris. The heavily scarred Warlord of Drakhalmere. The silent High Priestess of Xynoria. Some nervous nobles whispered urgently in the dark corners, their jeweled hands frantically waving with the memory of brutal presence.

Some angry generals argued quietly, but loudly blaming each other for the unprecedented security breach that allowed a Demon God into the stadium. Some simply sat in stunned silence on the plush velvet benches, staring blankly at nothing, their expensive wine drinks untouched in their shaking hands.

Anyone did absolutely not speak the specific name of Kairos Vedaryan aloud, but it was hung in the tense air suffocating. It silently existed in the terrible space between every single nervous breath taken in the room.

The wooden double doors suddenly creaked loudly open.

BOOM!!

The echoing thud silenced the entire chamber instantly. Brandon slowly entered the room. Every single head snapped, turning back and over fifty pairs of powerful eyes fixed immediately on the young Prince of Sylphyros. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

Some powerful lords looked at him with intense curiosity, actively wondering if he somehow knew the mysterious boy’s dark secret. Brandon straightened his posture, forcefully locking his jaw. He expertly forced his pale face into a perfect, unbreakable mask of calm, arrogant nobility.

He walked forward perfectly with the exact, steady rhythm of a powerful future King. The pathetic tremor in his pale hands was gone, expertly hidden beneath years of strict royal training and his tight leather gloves. He looked confident and utterly arrogant. He walked silently past General Luna, directly to his designated royal seat.

He sat down smoothly, crossing his long legs, looking bored by the entire council. But his terrified heart was hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird.

Because somewhere very far away... beyond these safe, golden halls, beyond these shiny, useless crowns, and far beyond this fear trembled him...