Realm Lord

Arthur’s world narrowed to the platform before him, every fiber of his being focused on the unfolding confrontation. The training room around him seemed to fade into background noise, the excited murmurs of the crowd becoming a distant hum as his attention locked onto his friend’s fate. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles white with tension as he watched Aziel face down an opponent who should theoretically outclass him in every conceivable way.

The fight began with explosive intensity. Aziel, true to his nature, launched himself forward with lightning crackling around his entire body, his spear materializing in his hand with a brilliant flash of electrical energy. Arthur had seen that spear in action countless times, had sparred against it and knew its devastating potential, but somehow it looked smaller now, almost fragile against the casual confidence of their opponent.

Grey stood motionless as Aziel charged, his expression one of mild interest rather than concern. It was the look of someone watching a mildly entertaining performance, completely divorced from any sense of personal danger. Arthur’s stomach twisted as he recognized the implications of that expression—this wasn’t going to be a fight. It was going to be a demonstration.

The first exchange shattered any lingering hope Arthur might have harbored. Aziel’s spear thrust forward with blinding speed, electricity arcing off the blade in brilliant tendrils that should have been impossible to dodge. Grey simply wasn’t there anymore. He had moved with such fluid grace that Arthur barely registered the motion, appearing at Aziel’s left side with his hand already moving toward a devastating counter-attack.

The blow landed with sickening precision, Grey’s fist connecting with Aziel’s ribs in a strike that sent shockwaves through the platform. The sound of impact echoed through the training room like a gunshot, followed immediately by Aziel’s sharp intake of breath as he was launched backward, his lightning aura flickering like a candle in a hurricane.

"Come on, Aziel," Arthur whispered under his breath, his voice barely audible even to himself. His friend rolled with the impact, using his momentum to create distance and buy precious seconds to recover. Lightning danced more frantically around Aziel’s form now, responding to his desperation and pain, but Arthur could see the slight tremor in his stance that betrayed just how much that single hit had taken out of him.

Grey’s laughter filled the space between them, a sound devoid of genuine mirth. "Is that all? I was expecting something more... challenging." He reached into his pocket with deliberate slowness, his movements theatrical and mocking. When his hand emerged, Arthur’s enhanced vision caught the glint of copper between his fingers—a simple penny, innocuous and worthless.

The crowd fell silent, sensing something significant in the gesture. Arthur’s mind raced, trying to understand the threat posed by such a mundane object, but his questions were answered with terrifying clarity in the next instant. Grey flicked the penny with casual ease, the small coin spinning through the air in a lazy arc that seemed almost playful.

Then it exploded.