Chapter 51— The Imperial Vanguard (Part 1).
Chapter 51—The Imperial Vanguard (Part 1).
The sky directly above the royal capital split open like a fresh, bleeding wound.
Through the shattered glass dome of the Grand Ballroom, the clear night turned from deep indigo into a sickening, violent shade of swirling crimson.
Thunder—not born of natural clouds or standard atmospheric mana, but forged from corrupted cosmic energy—arced across the heavens, striking the high spires of the palace with deafening cracks that made the subterranean foundations groan beneath the mountain.
Down inside the hall, the high nobility shrieked in absolute hysteria. Duke Brandon and several senior military commanders attempted to rally the guards, but the sheer atmospheric pressure descending from the crimson rift was unlike anything the central realm had ever experienced.
It was heavy, suffocating, and dripping with raw, unchecked hostility that crushed the breath from mortal lungs.
CLING!
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[SYSTEM WARNING]
Tier-SS Spatial Boundary Breach: Detected
Hostile Entity: Approaching from Outer Continental Sector
System Threat Level: EXTREME—Beyond Regional Category
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Kaelen stood at the very edge of the central balcony, his dark coat billowing violently in the chaotic gale pouring down from the shattered ceiling.
His icy violet eyes remained fixed on the center of the rift, watching as the very fabric of local space warped, stretched, and tore under the colossal weight of an arriving behemoth.
Beside him, Ren’s holographic screens flickered frantically, glowing in aggressive shades of blood red as diagnostic algorithms ran at maximum output.
"Kaelen! The spatial coordinates of the rift trace all the way across the Sea of Ash! It’s an orbital drop matrix from the Vaelorian Empire."
"So the shadow pulling Vance’s strings finally shows its face," Kaelen said softly, his voice calm, serene, and entirely unbothered amidst the raging tempest.
Down on the royal dais, Marquis Vance threw his head back, laughing hysterically through his bloody teeth as he clutched the vibrating black crystal in his trembling hand.
The systemic backlash had burned half his mana channels, but the sight of the sky tearing open filled him with a desperate, manic euphoria.
"Hahaha! Look upon your doom!" Vance screamed at King Alden and the trembling lords below. "You fools thought this regional kingdom mattered?! You thought your silly titles and honor meant something?! You are nothing but an outer province waiting to be harvested! My masters have arrived!"
BOOM!
A massive pillar of dense, obsidian-colored armor and crimson lightning plummeted straight down from the sky, bypassing all palace defensive wards and slamming directly into the center of the Grand Ballroom floor.
The shockwave tore through the room like a localized hurricane, pulverizing thousands of marble tiles and blasting away heavy mahogany banquet tables as if they were made of dry straw. Dust, pulverized stone, and dark mana billowed across the hall, blinding the terrified nobles who scrambled over one another to find cover behind the stone pillars.
When the thick grey dust finally settled, a towering ten-foot figure stepped out from the smoking crater.
The entity was clad in sleek, pitch-black plate armor etched with glowing gold dragon runes—the undisputed insignia of the Vaelorian Imperial Vanguard. In its right hand, it carried a massive double-headed war halberd that radiated heat so intense the marble floor melted into red glass beneath its heavy boots.
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[TARGET ANALYSIS: COMPLETE]
Name: Commander Draven (Vaelorian Vanguard)
Level: 175 (Tier SS)
Combat Power: 450,000 Units
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Draven’s glowing red visor swept slowly across the vast hall, utterly indifferent to the dead executioners, the broken knights, or the trembling royalty bowing on the floor. His cold, predatory gaze finally settled on the groveling form of Marquis Vance.
"You summoned the Imperial Distress Beacon, Vance," Draven spoke. His voice sounded like two continental plates grinding together, echo-enhanced by severe system authority that vibrated in the teeth of every noble present.
"Explain why a routine harvesting operation in this backwater province requires the Vanguard’s direct intervention."
"Commander Draven!" Vance whimpered, crawling toward the giant on his hands and knees, devoid of any remaining noble dignity.
"The puppet core was severed! King Alden has awakened, and a rogue spatial user has erased my executioners! Please... wipe them out! Exterminate this entire ballroom and claim the Second Heavenly Seal by force!"
Draven tilted his helmeted head slightly, his gaze shifting away from the pathetic Marquis to look up toward the royal balcony.
The moment Draven’s glowing red eyes met Kaelen’s violet gaze, the ambient air between them exploded with a sharp, high-pitched crackle of colliding mana. The sheer pressure forced the surrounding glass windows to shatter into fine dust.
Draven slowly raised his massive war halberd, pointing the razor-sharp, heat-radiating tip directly at Kaelen’s chest. The air around the balcony shimmered violently from the rising temperature.
"A spatial user in a primitive realm," Draven rumbled, a deep, mocking sneer audible in his metallic voice.
"Amusing. You broke a weak, diluted puppet core and thought you were a god among insects. Hand over the Second Heavenly Seal, boy, and I shall grant you a quick, merciful death before we burn this capital to cinders."
Lyra stepped in front of Kaelen, her holy blade glowing with fierce, unyielding silver light, while Tsubaki drew his black katana with a low, lethal metallic hum.
"Kaelen," Lyra whispered, her jaw set with unwavering resolve despite the cold sweat on her neck. "This pressure... he is far stronger than Thaxton. He is a true commander from the Outer Continent."
Kaelen gently placed a hand on Lyra’s shoulder, stepping past her and Tsubaki until he stood at the very edge of the balcony, looking down at the ten-foot armored titan below.
The cold, serene smile returned to Kaelen’s lips—a smile that sent a shiver down the spine of every person who saw it.
"An Imperial Vanguard from across the sea," Kaelen murmured smoothly, his voice reaching every corner of the silent, terrified hall with absolute clarity. "You travel across continents merely to act as a dog for a broken, sniveling marquis."Draven’s red eyes flared with lethal, overwhelming killing intent. "Arrogant worm! You dare insult the majesty of the Vaelorian Empire?!"
Kaelen slowly reached toward his waist. For the first time since the infiltration of the capital began, his fingers wrapped firmly around the hilt of his dark Void Blade.
SCHWING!
As Kaelen unsheathed the blade, the ambient violet spatial mana in the room didn’t just flow—it bowed. The pitch-black steel absorbed all light in the chamber, turning the space around Kaelen into a swirling, cosmic vortex of pure destruction.
"Ren," Kaelen commanded cold-bloodedly, his violet eyes locking onto Draven’s armored throat. "Keep the spatial barrier closed. None of these imperial rats leave this room alive."
"Understood, boss." Ren grinned, his crimson eyes flashing as his fingers locked down the spatial codes.
Kaelen stepped off the edge of the balcony, descending calmly into the open air of the ballroom as his void blade ignited with the true wrath of a sovereign."Come, Vanguard," Kaelen whispered. "Let me show you the difference between a mortal empire... and a sovereign."