Chapter 698: Wow
As the five stepped through the golden gate, leaving the arena behind, the shift was immediate—visceral.
Gone was the stone and ash of the battlefield.
In its place: opulence.
The capital’s inner ward unfolded before them like a dream sculpted by precision and wealth. White-gold pillars stretched into the sky, each engraved with runes older than empire. Crystalline walkways shimmered underfoot, refracting the sunlight into iridescent patterns across the polished courtyard. And above them—no longer arena ceilings or sky-choked dust—but a dome of floating gardens, suspended by pure aether, blooming in midair with impossible flora that pulsed faintly with life-force.
The very air tasted expensive.
Toven froze mid-step, jaw half-dropped. "...Wow....This is...."
Elayne didn’t speak—her eyes were darting to each floating structure, tracking the way golden automatons glided between balconies with trays of silk-covered parcels. Her silence held the tautness of someone raised to expect the bare minimum.
Caeden’s shoulders straightened. But not from arrogance—from disbelief, restrained only by decades of dignity. He murmured a quiet word in a language none of the others spoke—a thank-you, maybe, or a warning to himself not to want this too much.
Mireilla’s hand unconsciously brushed the side of her skirt, as though checking to see if it had picked up dust where none existed. The sheen of it all unsettled her composure. But she would never admit that aloud.
And Lucavion?
He didn’t stop.