MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

From another vantage point, the delegates of each planet watched with rapt attention, their gazes fixed unflinchingly on the ferocious clash between Lucian and Selunara.

The tension in the air was palpable, but their expressions soon turned to collective shock as Lucian's katana sliced through the air with deadly precision, aimed directly for Selunara's neck.

Her lifeless body collapsed to the ground with a resounding thud, crimson blood pooling beneath her, a stark testament to the battle's conclusion.

Lucian spared not a glance, his eyes cold and devoid of emotion.

With measured, unhurried steps, he walked away, leaving the lifeless scene behind without a trace of remorse.

The delegates of every race watched, their faces etched with shock and disbelief.

They couldn't fathom what they had just witnessed.

No, they didn't dare to.

Lucian had done the unthinkable.

The audacity.

The sheer, unwavering confidence.

A heavy silence hung in the air, undisturbed even in the presence of these powerful beings.

Their disbelief lingered for but a second, yet, for entities of their stature, a single second stretched on, feeling like an eternity.

The stillness dissolved in an instant.

And then, it happened.

A monstrous wave of killing intent erupted from a singular direction, surging forth like a dam obliterated under insurmountable pressure.

The air grew thick with the aura of death, each pulse suffocating and oppressive.

Space itself refused to quiver under the strain, it simply fractured, shattering into void like splinters upon contact with the overwhelming force.

The grand structure where the delegates sat crumbled to dust in a heartbeat, its remnants disintegrating before they could touch the ground.

Even the rising clouds of debris seemed to falter, hesitant to drift near the entities present.

In the presence of such devastating power, the weaker beings succumbed instantly.

Some coughed up blood, their faces pale and twisted in agony.

Others collapsed into uncontrollable convulsions, their bodies betraying them as tremors wracked their forms.

They were simply too frail to endure.

Yet, some delegates remained seated, their gazes fixed with unwavering focus on what was to come.

They did not flinch.

Instead, they silently prayed for the moment to arrive, eager to witness a battle that would shake the heavens.

But the calm was short lived.

The delegates from Selunara's planet erupted in fury the moment their champion's severed head soared into the sky, a grotesque symbol of Lucian's decisive victory.

"How dare you, humans!"

A voice thundered, reverberating across space with an authority that made the very planet quake.

The air seemed to tremble under the weight of the words, imbued with a power that demanded submission.

The fiery accusation was directed at Lucian's parents and the three other human delegates who had accompanied them.

But none of them responded.

They remained seated, their expressions calm and indifferent, as though the suffocating killing intent swirling around them was nothing more than a passing breeze.

"Your filthy champion dared to strike down ours! The audacity!"

Another voice roared, this time from the Eclipsian race, its tone a seething mix of indignation and raw power.

Their aura surged, the air around them rippling with the promise of devastation, ready to ignite at a moment's notice.

Then a voice rose, calm yet sharp enough to cut through the chaos.

It was Vespera.

Vespera Darkheart.

Lucian's mother.

"You may insult the human race until your voice shatters"

She began, her tone measured but laced with an undeniable edge.

"But dare not speak ill of my son. This is your final warning. Do not test me"

She spoke without turning her gaze from her son, who sat serenely, as though untouched by the turbulence surrounding them.

For beings of their caliber, insults and slights to their race were trifles, beneath their notice. Such barbs were as fleeting as the wind.
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The humans, like countless other races scattered across the galaxy, were accustomed to scorn and derision.

To most, it was nothing more than noise.

This was why Lucian's parents, and their accompanying delegates, had remained silent earlier.

They simply didn't care enough to engage.

But when an Eclipsian dared to brand her son as 'filthy' it was no longer a matter of pride or racial indignation.

It was personal.

Vespera's reply wasn't born of outrage for her race, it was born of something far deeper: her unwavering, unyielding motherly love.

That single word had crossed a line she would never allow anyone to breach.

But Riven, Lucian's father, remained unconcerned.

Whatever insult was hurled at his son carried no weight to him.

As long as no one acted upon their words, he saw no reason to waste energy responding to these so called 'higher races'

He leaned back in his seat, his expression betraying nothing but indifference.

He was simply too lazy to entertain their theatrics.

"Do you want war?"

The single word, 'war', echoed like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile tension in the room.

Faces shifted, and gazes sharpened, the weight of the question palpable.

War was never confined to two races or even two planets.

It was a maelstrom that inevitably dragged countless others into its fold.

Alliances would be forged, betrayals orchestrated, and opportunists would thrive in the shadows, scheming to reap the rewards of a conflict they had no hand in starting.

It seemed the Eclipsians were poised for retaliation, their thirst for vengeance ignited by the loss of their champion.

This was precisely why the Starborn Tournament rarely saw bloodshed.

To kill an opponent was to gamble with the fury of their entire backing.

Before making such a move, one had to ensure their own power exceeded that of their adversary.

Humans were often an easy target in this regard.

Their race was known for its lack of significant backing, a vulnerability that made them frequent scapegoats in galactic conflicts.

But this time, Selunara had made a fatal error.

She had chosen the wrong human.

Lucian's backing was no less formidable than hers, a truth she had tragically overlooked.

If she had refrained from showing her killing intent toward him, she might have walked away from this battle alive, arrogance and all.

At the question posed by the Eclipsian delegates, Riven finally spoke.

His voice was as calm and unyielding as a still ocean, carrying an eerie tranquility that seemed untouchable.

His presence radiated an aura of invincibility, not oppressive, but undeniable, like a force of nature that simply was.

"Why wait days to declare war?"

He said, his tone soft, almost a whisper, yet it carried through the room as if it demanded the attention of every soul present.

"That is far too ahead. We might as well start the war now. After all, your enemies are standing before you. What is stopping you?"

There was no trace of killing intent in his words, no oppressive weight behind his presence.

His demeanor was light, almost casual.

Yet, the gravity of his message was impossible to ignore.

Each syllable conveyed everything he intended, cutting sharper than any blade.

The room fell silent, the delegates stunned.

They couldn't believe what they were hearing.

Yet, somehow, they could.

They knew Riven Darkheart.

The man known across the galaxy as the Calamity Demon.

His name was synonymous with destruction, a powerhouse of the human race whose reputation was carved in the annals of annihilation.

It was said that no one could list the greatest human powerhouses without his name among them.

They understood the kind of man he was.

Riven never made the first move.

He waited, patient and calm, until his enemies struck.

But once he retaliated, the result was absolute, inevitable, and singular.

Annihilation.

_____________

AUTHOR'S NOTE.