The arrival of the Synapse Circle stirred the arena like a kicked hornet's nest. Voices rose. Heads turned. Even the Wyndhams clan couldn't pretend not to notice.
Lucius, grateful for the sudden distraction, was quickly escorted away by the guards. He didn't resist. He followed them across the grounds and into a tent canopy set slightly apart from the main crowd.
"You people should stay here. I'll handle this myself," Lucius said.
His tone was firm. Final.
He stepped past the guards and disappeared inside the canopy, leaving the rest of them standing outside, not too far from the entrance but far enough to be kept waiting.
With Lucius gone, attention snapped right back to the newcomers.
All eyes returned to the Synapse Circle.
Their ship dominated the sky. It was massive. So massive that even those stuck at the far back of the crowd could still see its full shape hovering above the grounds. No need to push forward. No need to squint. It was right there, impossible to miss.
And what surprised people most wasn't the size.
It was the delay.
The individuals who descended from the ship didn't move straight toward the Colosseum. They didn't rush. They didn't act pressed for time. Instead, they lingered, calm and deliberate, as if the entire arena could wait for them.
That alone raised eyebrows.
"Should we go and greet them?" Jake asked quietly, leaning closer to his father. "Maybe we can form some kind of connection."
John didn't answer right away.
His eyes narrowed as he studied the Synapse Circle members from afar, watching their movements, their spacing, the way they carried themselves. Too composed. Too controlled.
'Lucius said he never heard back after sending that request to book an appointment,' John thought.
That bothered him more than he liked to admit.
He kept watching, measuring, saying nothing—because sometimes, silence gave you more answers than words ever could.
'To me, it seems the Synapse Circle are the type that don't associate with lower clans,' John thought, his eyes fixed on the scene ahead.
He watched the people who dared step close to Draven. Most of them were already deep in conversation with him, exchanging greetings like old acquaintances. That alone said enough.
In the world of paragons, brands and fancy clothes meant almost nothing. Style didn't buy respect. Influence came from other things. Your stage. Your clan name. The level and quality of the equipment you carried. Those were the real currencies.
And the ones greeting Draven had all of that.
Strong stages. Recognized clans. High-grade gear.
It made John doubt whether Draven would spare a second glance at anyone who didn't meet those standards.
"You and Jim should give it a try," John said after a moment.
Jim and Jake glanced at each other. Just once.
Normally, John would handle things like this himself. That was his way. But this time, he stayed back. Neither of them protested. They straightened up and moved toward the crowd, blending in as they walked.
John remained where he was.
He watched. Measured. Waited.
But John wasn't the only one paying attention to the Synapse Circle.
Alex was watching too.
Unlike the others, his focus wasn't on Draven. His eyes stayed on the participants standing with him, studying their posture, their spacing, the quiet confidence in how they stood. At the same time, he listened to Gavalich explaining things to the rest.
"I've read about the previous tournaments," Gavalich said. "There were never any public video records. But the lists of participants always get released. And not once has the Synapse Circle been among them."
Gavalich wasn't just some fresh face.
Even though he was now part of the Wyndham clan, he wasn't new to the paragon world. Long before Lucius recruited him, Gavalich had already reached Stage Three. He spoke with the calm certainty of someone who had seen enough battles to know when something felt off.
And this year?
Something definitely felt off.
"Are they someone we should worry about?" Lennox asked, glancing toward the Synapse Circle.
"I can't tell," Gavalich replied.
"There's never been a clear record of the Synapse Circle in any major fight or open conflict," he continued. "No battle footage. No confirmed war reports."
He paused, choosing his words.
"They're mostly known for production. Technology. Medicine. Magical items. That's their field."
Gavalich let that sink in before adding, "But even with that, other clans stay wary of them."
"Ha…" Zephyr mused, folding his arms.
"Then they're not strong," he said, sounding sure of himself.
"I wouldn't underestimate them if I were you," Gavalich said at once.
"For a clan like them, with no backing from divine beings, and no strong faction openly supporting them, reaching their current position shouldn't be possible," he explained. "And yet, no major clan dares to provoke them."
His eyes hardened slightly.
"That means they have something. Something big enough to keep everyone in line."
Silence followed.
The group absorbed his words, each of them turning the idea over in their heads.
"If they specialize in magical items," Clifford said slowly, "then they must be keeping the best ones for themselves."
No one argued with that.
Meanwhile, Alex said nothing.
His eyes stayed on the Synapse Circle, sharp and focused. He studied their stance, their spacing, the way they carried themselves. Then his expression shifted.
A faint frown formed on his face.
New information had just appeared on his system display.
[Inspection failed]
[Your inspection skill has been blocked]
'This is a first,' Alex thought.
He frowned slightly, eyes still fixed on the Synapse Circle group.
'Do they have something that's interfering with the system?' he wondered.
This had never happened before. Not once since he awakened the system. Every inspection, no matter how weak or strong the target was, had always returned something. Even if it was vague. Even if it was partial.
But this time, nothing.
The system felt… pushed back.
A new prompt appeared in his vision.
[Do you want to activate your Bloodline power to break the interference?]
Alex didn't answer right away.
He hesitated.
'Nah…' he thought after a second.
'I don't think it's worth it right now.'
Not here. Not in front of this many eyes. Burning his bloodline just to satisfy curiosity felt like bad business.
He kept watching.
That was when one of the participants turned.
Her gaze swept the area slowly, calm and sharp, like she was counting threats without moving her head. Then her eyes stopped.
They locked onto Alex.
Bright blue eyes. Clear. Almost glowing under the light.
Alex froze.
For a brief moment, everything else faded. The noise. The crowd. Even the system prompts. He found himself staring back, caught off guard by how striking they were.
They held eye contact.
One second.
Then another.
Just as Alex felt himself drifting—
[Warning!]
[Stay off the Synapse Circle's sight]
---
Meanwhile, Lucius was led into the tent.
The moment he stepped inside, his eyes caught sight of a man standing near the center.
The man wore a mix of medieval battle gear and reinforced plates. Practical. Heavy. A massive long hammer rested beside him, its head planted firmly on the ground.
The man's back was turned.
He was focused on a large table, hands moving with purpose as he worked on something laid out before him. Metal clinked softly with each movement.
Lucius slowed his steps.
Whatever was about to happen in this tent, he could already tell—it wasn't going to be simple.
It was an oval table, and above it hovered a holographic display of the Colosseum. The image showed everything happening outside in real time. Every movement. Every crowd shift. Nothing was missed.
Several seats were arranged neatly around the table, positioned like this place was meant for observers, not fighters.
At the far end of the tent stood multiple weapon racks.
All of them held beast weapons.
Each one carried a faint pressure, the kind that told you they had tasted blood before.
Lucius took his time, scanning the tent from one end to the other. Only after he was done did he turn his attention back to the large muscular man.
The man held a tablet in one hand, his eyes fixed on it. He didn't even bother to look at the two people who had entered.
"What do you want?" the man asked flatly.
The guard who brought Lucius in immediately bowed in salute. Then he stepped forward.
"The man I brought has something you might want to see, sir," the guard said.
"Not important. Take him out," the large man replied without lifting his head.
Lucius smiled.
In the same instant, he brought out a card from his ring.
The card crackled softly, sparks of electricity dancing across its surface.
The effect was immediate.
The large man's face went pale. He snapped his head up and turned fully toward Lucius. His features were sharp, Asian in build, with a single line of hair pulled neatly back.
"Where did you get that from?" the man asked, his voice suddenly tight.
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you," Lucius said calmly.
"Not unless you hear me out."
The man didn't hesitate.
He looked at the guard and gave a sharp signal.
The guard bowed again and left the tent at once.
The large man reached for a seat, lifted it with one hand, and tossed it toward Lucius.
Lucius caught the chair smoothly with his leg, adjusted its position, and set it down properly before sitting.
"Impressive," the man said, finally studying him.
"I guess you've adapted well to your lost arm."
Lucius didn't respond. He simply sat there, composed.
The man took his own seat across from him.
"I am Shagun," he said.
"The one in charge of this branch of guards."
Shagun leaned back slightly.
"I'm sure you didn't come here waving that card without a reason," he added.
"You're right," Lucius replied, not bothering with introductions.
"My clan wishes to participate in the tournament," Lucius continued.
"And I want you to grant us entrance."