Lucius had already used the card to get the Wyndhams into the tournament without an official invite.
He thought that was the extent of it.
He was wrong.
He had underestimated the weight behind the card Jovisrax handed to him.
Just showing it had opened the gates. No questions. No delays. Guards stepped aside like they had been waiting for him. And now, standing here, it was clear the benefits did not stop there.
This place was proof.
Lucius kept his face calm, but his eyes moved.
Slow. Careful.
He studied everyone in the room.
They weren't the strongest people he had ever seen. No overwhelming pressure. No suffocating aura. But that wasn't the point.
The point was who they were.
Every single person seated in that dim hall—every one of them—carried the quiet air of power. Not battle power. Clan power.
Higher clans.
Big names.
Influential bloodlines.
They sat comfortably at polished tables, drinks untouched, eyes fixed on the massive display screen at the front of the room. No one fidgeted. No one whispered loudly. This wasn't a place for common spectators.
This was a VIP chamber.
And the Wyndhams were inside it.
Yet no one looked at them.
Not a single glance.
It was as if they were invisible.
Lucius narrowed his eyes slightly.
Ignored.
Deliberately ignored.
The room itself was dark, but not dull. Tiny shining crystals were embedded into the walls. They glimmered faintly, like distant stars. The soft glow reflected off the polished floor and glass tables, making the entire space feel like they were standing inside the night sky.
Luxurious.
Exclusive.
The Wyndhams stood near the entrance for a moment. No seats offered. No greetings given.
Still ignored.
Then footsteps.
Sharp. Fast.
Someone broke away from the side aisle and marched toward them.
"You—what are you doing here?!" Draven shouted.
His voice cracked through the room like a whip.
Heads turned instantly. Conversations died. Eyes shifted. Now they were seen.
Questions flickered across faces. Brows furrowed. Some leaned forward slightly in their seats.
Just like that, the Wyndhams were no longer invisible.
"Who are those people?" someone asked.
"I don't know. I've never seen them here before," another replied.
"Maybe they're a new clan."
"A new clan? That means a weak clan. Who let them in here?"
The whispers didn't stay whispers for long.
They spread. Low at first. Then louder.
Heads turned one after another. Necks twisted. Eyes narrowed. Some leaned back in their chairs just to get a better look at the Wyndhams standing near the entrance.
The sound rolled through the dark hall like a wave.
Eventually, even Jovisrax, seated at the far front of the room, shifted his head toward the noise. His gaze was calm. Measuring.
That alone made the air heavier.
The triple Js felt it immediately.
Every stare. Every silent judgment.
Their shoulders stiffened. John's jaw tightened. One of the others shifted his weight slightly, resisting the urge to step back.
They weren't comfortable.
Not in the slightest.
'What is wrong with these people…?'
'I think we should get out of here,' John thought.
The crystals in the walls glowed faintly, reflecting in dozens of watching eyes. The room suddenly felt smaller.
But while the triple Js were growing tense, Lucius didn't move.
He didn't look away.
He looked straight at Draven.
Draven's finger was still raised, pointing.
Accusing.
Lucius tilted his head slightly.
"Tell me…" he said calmly. "Should you be here?"
The question was simple.
Direct.
But it carried weight.
Lucius had already figured it out.
This room wasn't for ordinary clans. It wasn't even for strong clans. It was for high clans.
Clans that had won the tournament before.
Clans that consistently ranked at the top.
Clans with history.
With records. With influence.
That was the pattern.
And yet—
The Synapse Clan. Draven.
There had never been a record of them participating in the battle royal tournament before. Not in any past cycle. Not in any public listing.
They had no history here.
No victories.
No ranking.
And yet, on their very first appearance, they were placed in the VIP hall.
Draven froze at Lucius' question.
Just for a second.
But everyone saw it.
His finger lowered slowly. His brows pulled together. His lips parted, but no words came out at first.
Then he turned sharply toward the guard who had brought the Wyndhams in.
"They shouldn't be here," Draven said, voice tight. "Take them somewhere else."
The room went quiet again.
The guard didn't move immediately.
He stood straight. Calm. Professional.
Then he spoke.
"Unfortunately for you, the order to bring them here came from someone higher than you."
That hit harder than shouting.
A few people in the room shifted in their seats.
Draven's face darkened.
The guard didn't wait for a reply. He simply turned and gestured with his hand.
"This way."
The triple Js didn't hesitate.
They moved first.
Quick steps. Shoulders tight. Eyes forward. They followed the guard deeper into the hall, weaving between tables under the soft glow of the wall crystals.
Lucius stayed behind for half a second longer.
He looked at Draven. Then he smirked.
Not wide. Not exaggerated. Just enough. After that, he walked forward.
As he passed Draven, his shoulder brushed against Draven's.
Not hard. But not accidental either.
Draven's fists clenched instantly.
His knuckles turned pale.
His jaw tightened. Teeth grinding. Fury barely contained.
For a moment, it looked like he might move.
But he didn't.
Instead, a slow, knowing smile crept onto his lips.
That smile wasn't anger. It was promise.
Meanwhile, Lucius' mind was already working.
'The guard said the order came from someone higher than Draven.'
'Higher…?'
His eyes shifted slightly.
Toward the front. Toward a specific table.
Jovisrax.
The divine being sat there, posture relaxed, expression unreadable. His two guards stood behind him like statues.
But Jovisrax wasn't looking at them.
His attention had already returned to the massive display screen.
And so had everyone else's.
Lucius looked away.
'Was it him?'
The guard finally stopped walking.
He led the Wyndhams to a round table positioned at a clean angle to the large screen. Not too close. Not too far.
Perfect view. There were exactly four seats.
One for each of them.
The table itself was made from a crystal-like material. Clear, but solid. Not glass. Something stronger. Smooth surface. Cold shine.
At the center of the table sat a bottle of rich wine.
Four cups were placed neatly around it.
The Wyndhams took their seats.
Chairs slid softly against the smooth floor.
The moment they settled—
Light flickered.
From the center of every table, a holographic image rose into the air.
It formed fast. Clean lines. No distortion.
High quality.
The image hovered just above the crystal surface, bright enough to see clearly, but not bright enough to light up the dark room.
Lucius glanced around.
It wasn't just their table.
Every table in the VIP hall had the same hologram active.
Above them, along one of the dark walls, three larger projections appeared. The same image. Duplicated side by side.
Even with that, the room stayed dim. The glowing crystals in the walls continued to give that quiet, star-like shine.
Controlled lighting.
No glare.
All attention forward.
The holograms displayed the outside of the colosseum.
Crowds. Massive crowds.
The streets around the structure were filled with people. Packed shoulder to shoulder. Vendors shouting. Flags waving. Clan symbols lifted high in the air.
The general public wasn't allowed inside the colosseum itself.
But that didn't stop them from gathering outside.
Most clans that received invitations brought large groups of their members. Supporters. Relatives. Loyal followers.
And there were many clans this year.
Over a hundred participating.
Each one had their own section. Their own colors. Their own chants.
The noise was overwhelming—even through the projection.
Then—
A voice boomed across the colosseum.
It wasn't mechanical.
The kind of voice used in advertisements. Loud. Charismatic. Almost playful.
"The tournament is about to begin!"
The cheering outside grew louder instantly.
"We welcome you to the 2022 Paragon Battle Royal! We present to you our participants of this year!"
The voice rolled on without pause.
Names started being called.
Clan after clan.
Each time a name was announced—
The reaction came immediately.
Cheers exploded.
Flags waved harder.
Drums beat.
The sound echoed through the massive arena and spilled into the surrounding streets.
What was strange—
It wasn't just the powerful clans getting the loud reactions.
Even weaker clans.
Even new clans that had never appeared in the tournament before.
They were cheered too.The same energy.The same excitement.
Lucius watched carefully.
'Interesting.'
Strength wasn't the only thing being celebrated today.
Presence mattered.
Participation mattered.
This tournament wasn't just about power.
It was spectacle.
Names kept being called.
One after another.
On the holographic display above the arena, the number of participants kept rising. The counter ticked upward each time a clan was announced.
[Participants Registered: 47]
→ 48
→ 49
No pause.
With every name called, a short animated display followed.
A burst of color.
A rotating emblem.
Sometimes a beast symbol. Sometimes a weapon. Sometimes just a glowing crest.
Clean. Flashy. Quick.
Then—
Gates around the colosseum opened.
From different directions, clans began entering the arena floor.
Some walked in with straight backs and calm steps.
Some raised their weapons high.
Some waved at their supporters.
The crowd roared for each entrance.
Meanwhile—
Inside the waiting room beneath the colosseum, the energy was completely different.
No cheers.
No sunlight.
Just tension.
Alex stood with half of the Wyndhams.
He looked around.
Every single person there was shaking.
Hands trembling.
Breaths uneven.
One of them rubbed his palms against his trousers. Another kept cracking his knuckles over and over.
Alex felt it too.
His fingers weren't steady.
His chest felt tight.
But it wasn't just fear.
It was something else.
A sharp mix of excitement and anticipation.
His blood felt warm.
Alive.
Beside him, Zephyr swallowed hard.
Isla's shoulders were stiff. Too stiff.
Lennox kept glancing toward the exit tunnel as if expecting something to jump out at any moment.
They weren't handling it well.
'This…'
Alex inhaled slowly.
'This shouldn't be more dangerous than four people fighting an entire clan.'
He replayed that memory in his head.
He had survived that.
'This is just a tournament.'
'Just a battle royal.'
To Alex, he had already faced something life-threatening.
This shouldn't be bigger than that.
That's what he told himself.
Then—
The announcer's voice boomed again.
Loud.
Clear.
"We welcome you… the Wyndham Clan!"
The sound echoed through the arena above.
In that exact moment—
Alex's entire body reacted.
A sharp shiver ran down his spine.
Goosebumps rose across his arms and neck.
His skin tightened so hard it almost hurt.
His heart slammed once.Hard.
Then again. This wasn't practice. This wasn't preparation. This was it.