Godslayer's Legacy: THE PATH TO SUPREMACY

The Grand Training Hall of the Sovereign Spire was unlike any other chamber Rui had seen before. Massive arches lined the cavernous space, their polished obsidian surfaces etched with flowing runes that pulsed faintly with mana. Crystalline conduits traced glowing veins along the ceiling and walls, feeding mana into the various arrays embedded in the marble floor. The hall had the oppressive stillness of a battlefield before the first clash of steel—an expectant, heavy silence that clung to the air.

Rui stood at the center of it all, his ceremonial black and silver tunic hanging cleanly from his shoulders. His silver hair, glinting faintly in the rune-light, caught the faint draft filtering into the hall. His glowing eyes scanned the figures before him, taking in every detail with quiet precision.

Before him stood twelve adventurers—ten S-ranked individuals and one S+ ranker, Darius Stoneheart. Each of them carried a presence sharp enough to cut glass. These were individuals who had earned their titles through decades of hardship, battle, and survival. Their eyes were honed weapons, their stances radiating confidence born from experience.

Darius Stoneheart, the S+ ranker, stood like a monolith. His armor—dense black plate engraved with golden runes—clung to his hulking frame, every plate polished yet scarred by countless battles. His grizzled silver hair was tied back tightly, and his amber eyes carried the unyielding weight of a mountain.

To his left stood Lyra Moonshade, a slender woman draped in flowing indigo robes that shimmered faintly with residual mana. Her violet eyes watched Rui with cold calculation, her long fingers resting lightly on an ornate staff carved from a single piece of deep black wood.

To Darius's right loomed Kallan Frostbane, his frostbound spear resting casually against his shoulder. The frostbitten scars along his exposed arms glistened faintly with a faint layer of frost that seemed to cling to his skin permanently. His pale blue eyes were sharp, unblinking, and carried the cold stillness of a frozen lake.

Behind them stood others—Aric Redfang, a swordsman with flame-etched tattoos; Seren Ashwind, a wind mage with sharp emerald eyes; Kiran Bloodrend, a savage-looking warrior with scars like a tapestry of survival etched across his skin. Each figure radiated authority, power, and—most of all—doubt.

Fenrir stood off to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, predator's eyes flicking between Rui and the gathered adventurers. Kovar was nearby, standing behind a glowing crystalline console, his glass brain dome flickering with erratic data streams as he monitored Rui's vitals and aura flow.

The silence was suffocating.

Finally, Darius stepped forward, his boots clanging against the polished stone with every deliberate step. He loomed over Rui like a fortress wall, his amber eyes locking onto Rui's glowing silver ones.

"So… you are Rui Kirean."

His voice was a low rumble, each word weighted with authority.

"The Council has declared you an SS-ranked prodigy. But titles… are easy to give. Harder to earn."

Rui met his gaze evenly, his silver eyes unflinching.

"I didn't ask for the title, Darius Stoneheart. I earned it."

A faint ripple passed through the assembled adventurers, quiet murmurs shared in sharp glances.

Lyra stepped forward, her indigo robes flowing like liquid ink.

"Power isn't just something you claim, Rui. It's something you prove. We've bled on fields soaked in ash and fire. We've stood where entire cities fell. Have you?"

Rui's fingers twitched faintly at his sides, but his voice remained calm.

"No. But I've faced something else—something you wouldn't understand until you've stood where I have."

Kallan let out a cold chuckle, mist curling faintly from his frostbitten breath.

"Big words, boy. But words don't stop claws. Words don't block fire. Words don't silence the screams of dying men."

The pressure in the room intensified, the collective aura of twelve powerful individuals pressing down like a vice.

Fenrir's growl rumbled faintly from the side.

"Enough."

But Rui raised a hand, stopping him. His glowing eyes flared faintly, and a ripple of mana pulsed outward from his feet—a faint tremor that resonated through the stone beneath them. His aura flared gently, not wild, not chaotic, but sharp and present.

The adventurers stilled, their expressions sharpening.

"In three weeks," Rui said calmly, his voice carrying across the hall, "I will personally descend into the Abyssal Ravine—with a squad of whatever the council chooses. I will see the truth of what lies below, and I will face it myself."

His voice was steady, his presence unyielding.

The adventurers exchanged looks—some skeptical, some contemplative. Darius's amber eyes narrowed slightly, but after a long pause, he gave Rui a single, deliberate nod.

"Three weeks, then. We'll be watching, Rui Kirean. Don't waste the time you've been given."

Slowly, the adventurers began to disperse. Some murmured quietly among themselves, others walked away in silence. Lyra paused briefly, her sharp violet eyes locking onto Rui's one last time before she turned and followed the others.

Fenrir stepped up beside Rui, his sharp gaze flicking toward the departing figures.

"You handled that better than I expected, boy."

Rui exhaled softly, his aura settling around him once more.

"It's not about convincing them with words, Fenrir. It's about showing them."

Fenrir's faint smirk softened into something closer to approval.

"Then show them, Rui. Show them."