Chapter 31: The Alpha
The victory against the Mystic-Fog World had changed the atmosphere of the tournament. The spectators, previously resigned to watching their home team get slaughtered, were now roaring with a fervor that shook the floating stadium.
"AERTHOS! AERTHOS!"
"They beat the mind-freaks! Can they beat the fur-balls?"
The Grand Arena of Ascension rumbled as the terrain shifted for the second round. The swamp drained away, replaced by jagged spires of rock rising hundreds of feet into the air.
[Match 2: World of Aerthos vs. World of Beast-Soul]
[Biome: The Stone Forest]
[Mode: Team Deathmatch]
On the opposite side of the arena stood the Beast-Soul Team. They didn't wear uniforms. They wore furs, bones, and war paint. They didn't stand in formation; they prowled.
Their leader, Fenrir, was a nightmare to behold. He was shirtless, his body covered in golden runic tattoos. His eyes were yellow with vertical pupils, and his nails were blackened claws. He radiated a savage, primal hunger that made the nobles in the stands shudder.
"They smell like lunch," Fenrir growled, sniffing the air. He pointed a claw at Prince Valerian. "That one smells like fear."
He pointed at Anya. "That one smells like fire. Dangerous."
Then he pointed at me.
Fenrir paused. He frowned. He sniffed again.
"That one... smells like nothing. Like a rock. Boring."
I stood relaxed, my hands in my pockets. Ria stood to my right, Seraphina (in the VIP box) was sending me telepathic threats to win quickly so we could eat, and Anya was jumping up and down.
"Big Brother! Look! They have ears! Can I pet them?" Anya asked, pointing at a girl on the Beast-Soul team who had fox ears.
"If you beat them," I said, "you can pet them."
"Yay!"
"Fighters, ready!" the Referee shouted, hovering on a cloud. "BEGIN!"
ROAR!
The Beast-Soul team didn't use tactics. They exploded.
Five massive columns of Qi erupted from them. Their bodies shifted. Bones cracked, muscles swelled, and fur sprouted.
Fenrir transformed into a seven-foot-tall Golden Werewolf.
His teammates became a Black Bear, a Wind Eagle, a Shadow Panther, and a Venom Snake.
They were a zoo of nightmares. And they were fast.
"Formation!" Lyra screamed, throwing up a defensive barrier.
The Black Bear crashed into Kael, the Vanguard.
BOOM.
Kael's greatsword groaned under the weight of the massive paw strike. The sheer physical force drove Kael's boots six inches into the stone.
"He's heavy!" Kael grunted, veins popping on his forehead.
The Shadow Panther blurred, bypassing the front line to strike at Lyra.
Valerian intercepted. "Get back, kitty!"
He engaged the Panther in a flurry of sword strikes. He was holding his own, his movements sharper and more desperate after Seraphina's "training."
But the Eagle and the Snake ignored the melee. They flew over the top, diving straight for the backline.
Straight for Anya.
"The girl is the weakness!" the Eagle screeched, diving with razor-sharp talons.
Anya looked up. She wasn't scared. She looked... disappointed.
"You're not a puppy," she pouted. "You're a chicken."
She opened her mouth.
Phoenix Art: Fire Breath.
WHOOSH.
A stream of pure, liquid fire shot from her mouth. It wasn't normal fire; it was the Golden Flame of the Sun.
The Eagle shrieked as its feathers caught fire instantly. It tried to dive bomb her, but the heat updraft was so intense it knocked the bird out of the sky.
"Hot! Hot!" the Eagle-shifter reverted to human form, rolling on the ground to extinguish the flames.
The Venom Snake tried to sneak up behind her.
Ria was there.
She didn't use a weapon. She stepped on the Snake's tail.
CRUNCH.
"Target immobilized," Ria stated. She grabbed the Snake by the tail and swung him like a whip, slamming him into a stone pillar.
The crowd went wild. The little girl and the maid were dismantling the flankers effortlessly.
But in the center of the arena, the real battle was happening.
Fenrir, the Golden Wolf, had ignored everyone. He had leaped over the chaotic melee, landing silently on a rock pillar directly in front of me.
He stared down at me with hungry yellow eyes. Saliva dripped from his jaws.
"You," Fenrir growled, his voice deep and guttural. "Your smell changed."
"Oh?" I looked up at him.
"Before, you smelled like nothing," Fenrir circled me, his claws scraping the stone. "But now... underneath the nothing... you smell like Old Blood."
He licked his chops.
"I want to taste it."
He lunged.
He moved faster than sound. A blur of gold and claws aiming for my throat.
I didn't draw Antakala.
I didn't dodge.
I just looked at him.
'Seal 4: Beast Monarch.'
'Ability: Bloodline Suppression.'
I didn't fully unlock the 4th Seal—my body couldn't handle the full transformation yet. But I opened the door just a crack. I let a sliver of the Void Dragon's Aura leak out.
THOOM.
It wasn't a physical sound. It was a psychic shockwave.
To the audience, nothing happened.
But to Fenrir—a beast shifter whose instincts were tuned to the hierarchy of the wild—it was as if the sun had just exploded in front of his face.
Mid-air, Fenrir's eyes widened to the size of saucers.
His pupils dilated in pure, primal terror.
His instinct screamed one word: PREDATOR.
He didn't hit me.
He twisted his body violently in mid-air, crashing clumsily onto the ground beside me. He scrambled backward, his tail tucked between his legs, whining.
"W-What are you?" Fenrir gasped, reverting partially to human form. He was trembling. "Dragon? No... bigger. Older."
I took a step forward.
Fenrir flinched. He crawled back until his back hit a rock.
"Sit," I commanded softly.
Fenrir froze. His conscious mind wanted to fight. He was a Peak Core Formation genius! He was the Alpha of his world!
But his blood... his beast soul... it obeyed.
Slowly, shakily, Fenrir sat down on his hind legs. He lowered his head, exposing his neck in submission.
The stadium went dead silent.
The cameras zoomed in.
They saw the terrifying Golden Wolf, the monster who had torn elders in half, sitting like a disciplined dog in front of a freshman who hadn't even lifted a finger.
"Good boy," I said.
I reached out and patted his head.
Fenrir shuddered at the touch, terrified I was going to eat him.
"You have good instincts," I told him. "You realized that if you touched me, I would have skinned you and made a coat for my sister."
Fenrir nodded frantically. "Yes. Yes, Alpha."
"Alpha?" I chuckled. "No. I am the Sovereign."
I looked at the rest of the battlefield.
The Bear, the Panther, the Eagle, and the Snake all stopped fighting. They felt it too. The dominance radiating from me.
They dropped their weapons. They reverted to human forms and kneeled.
Valerian, who was mid-swing, stopped. "Uh... guys? Why are they kneeling?"
"Because," I said, walking past the shivering Fenrir. "They know who sits at the top of the food chain."
I grabbed the enemy flag.
"Game over."
WINNER: AERTHOS WORLD.
The VIP Skybox.
The Envoys from the Divine Sky Academy were on their feet.
Elder Sirius gripped the railing so hard the gold bent.
"Did you feel that?" Sirius whispered to his colleagues. "That pressure... just for a second."
"Dragon Aura?" another Envoy asked, pale. "A Dragon Disciple in a Low World?"
"No," Sirius shook his head. "Dragons are arrogant. That pressure was... hungry. It felt like a Void Beast, but regal."
He looked down at me, standing in the arena, patting the Golden Wolf like a pet.
"That boy... Rudra Ye. He is not just a genius. He is a dormant calamity. We must report this to the Headmaster of the Middle World immediately."
Beside them, Seraphina sipped her wine, hiding a smirk behind her glass.
'Oh, you poor fools. You have no idea. That isn't a calamity. That's my husband.'
The Locker Room.
The atmosphere in the Aerthos locker room was euphoric.
"We beat the Beasts! We beat the Mists! We are in the Finals!" Valerian was cheering, high-fiving Kael.
I sat on the bench, wiping wolf drool off my hand.
Fenrir was sitting on the floor in front of me. He refused to leave.
"Master," Fenrir said, his voice reverent. "Take me with you. The Beast-Soul World is weak. They do not understand true power. I pledge my pack to you."
"I don't need a pack," I said. "I have a kitchen staff."
"I can hunt!" Fenrir offered. "I can track rare ingredients! I can carry the little one!"
Anya ran over. "Can I really ride him like a pony?"
Fenrir transformed into his giant wolf form and lowered his back. "Please, Young Miss."
Anya squealed and climbed on. "Giddy up!"
I sighed. "Fine. You're hired. But if you shed on the furniture, Ria will shave you."
Fenrir gulped. He looked at Ria, who was sharpening a pair of scissors. "Understood."
Suddenly, the door opened.
Headmaster Altair walked in. He looked serious.
"Celebrations later," Altair said. "We have a problem."
"What is it?" I asked.
"The brackets for the Finals have been changed," Altair held up a scroll. "Usually, the two winning teams fight. That would be us vs. the Iron-Blood World."
"And?"
"The Envoys intervened. They changed the rules."
Altair unrolled the scroll.
[Final Match: Battle Royale]
[Aerthos World vs. Iron-Blood World]
[Special Condition: The Gate of the Ancients will be opened.]
"The Gate of the Ancients?" Valerian asked. "What is that?"
"It is a Dimension inside the Middle-Level World," Altair explained gravely. "It is filled with ruins... and Guardians. But that's not the worst part."
He looked at me.
"The Iron-Blood Team has been reinforced. They swapped out a member. A Guest Fighter from the Middle World has joined them."
"A ringer?" I raised an eyebrow.
"His name is Prince Aethelred," Altair said. "The Crown Prince of the Middle World. And... Lady Seraphina's fiancé."
Seraphina, who had just walked in, froze. Her wine glass shattered on the floor.
Violet fire erupted around her.
"Aethelred is here?" Seraphina hissed, her voice dropping an octave into pure demonic rage. "That pink-wearing peacock dares to come to my vacation spot? And he joined the enemy team?"
"He wants to humiliate Aerthos," Altair said. "He wants to prove that this world is trash, and that Lady Seraphina is wasting her time here."
I stood up. My silver eyes glowed.
"So, the fiancé wants a fight."
I looked at Seraphina.
"Does he have good loot?"
Seraphina grinned, a terrifying, bloodthirsty smile.
"Darling, his armor is made of Divine Gold. His sword is a Quasi-Saint Artifact. He is a walking treasure chest."
"Excellent," I cracked my neck. "Then let's go rob a Prince."