Chaos Heir - Chapter 870: Sparks
The whooshing noise released by the hall’s metal doors awakened Khan, and a smile appeared on his face when a familiar aura touched his senses. He half-turned, retaining his comfortable position on the couch while looking at the figure approaching him.
“Long night?” Monica asked, a giggle escaping her mouth when she noticed George sleeping on a nearby couch with an empty bottle in his arms.
“Very long,” Khan confirmed, his voice a half-groan. “Very good.”
Monica reached Khan’s couch, sitting before his half-turned torso. Her hands went for his drowsy face, and her thumbs carefully removed the gunk from his eyes.
“Did you talk with him?” Monica inquired.
“I told him everything,” Khan said, his explanation occasionally interrupted by George’s drunken snores, “But we somehow ended up talking about butts.”
“I hope mine was the only one your mouth mentioned,” Monica half-joked and half- threatened, bringing down her hand to trap Khan’s lips in its grasp.
“Of course,” Khan muttered through Monica’s fingers, his hand sliding behind her back to reach for her butt. “I defended it with my life.”
“Good job, dear,” Monica praised. “Sadly, it’s late. I would have loved to hear more about it otherwise.”
“We can be late,” Khan suggested, straightening his back and pulling Monica closer to leave a quick kiss on her lips. “After all, it’s my tournament.”
Monica wanted to glare at Khan, but her face couldn’t stop smiling.
“It’s very late,” Monica said before glancing at George, “And I’ve only bought him five minutes with Anita.”
“I don’t think that will be enough,” Khan revealed, also inspecting George. “He has become such a lightweight.”
“Well,” Monica voiced. “He doesn’t have nobles, Thilku Lords, and battle-crazy aliens to handle.”
“Truly a carefree life,” Khan commented. “I’m almost jealous.”
“I’m not,” Monica revealed, leaning over Khan to grab the bone crown resting on the couch. “I get to have a King all for myself.”
Monica placed the crown on Khan’s head, adjusting his hair and the item. Afterward, she addressed the creases on his shoulders, eventually patting them when she felt satisfied with the result.
“Alright,” Khan sighed, suddenly standing up and lifting Monica with one hand. She giggled and clung to him while he retrieved the cape from the couch’s armrest. The two quickly left the hall, and Anita ended up spotting her friend still being princess-carried when marching toward her sleeping boyfriend.
Khan’s different attire at the tournament attracted some attention, but the audience eventually grew used to it. His crown, cape, and bright eyes were alien enough to retain his otherworldly aura, and the terrace’s guests barely minded the change. They only cared about Khan’s presence.
The usual casual conversations unfolded, with the nobles occasionally pointing out Khan’s better mood. He even emoted in public now, which many saw as an improvement to his previous unflinching cold face.
Khan internally admitted he truly felt better. The grief for his father’s death still loomed over his head, but sharing his story with his closest friends had lightened the pressure on his shoulders. Somehow, Khan felt less alone now and freer.
Nevertheless, Khan still had goals to address, so he didn’t let the casual conversations distract him, especially since his target sat next to him. He had a true leader at his side, and his experience could bring the answers he sought.
“[The weak die to the strong],” Khan suddenly muttered during a silent moment. “[Planets die to stars].”
“You truly like my quote,” Lord Exr laughed, repeating the line in his language while slightly adjusting the wording.
“I used it as a reminder,” Khan admitted. “This is how the universe works.”
Khan had thrown the bait, hoping his main target would take it, and the Thilku didn’t disappoint. Lord Rsi remained silent for a few seconds before joining the conversation.
“You’ve seen it yourself, [Blue Shaman],” Lord Rsi announced. “Your strength opened the path for our cooperation and your authority.”
“And strength I’ll keep gathering,” Khan commented.
“The Empire trusts you’ll do so,” Lord Rsi said. “It would be a great disappointment if you didn’t.”
“It’s unavoidable,” Khan reassured.
“[Ah]!” Lord Rsi cried. “Our pride is affecting you!”
“Apologies, My Lord,” Monica intervened. “Please, don’t make my fiancé more confident than he already is. My patience can hardly keep up as it is.”
Monica’s joke triggered some laughs, but her words had a deeper purpose. She knew what Khan was doing, and her line perfectly assisted him.
“I’d prepare for the worst, Miss Solodrey,” Lord Rsi exclaimed. “A leader must be confident. A leader must be firm and unflinching. A leader can never be doubted nor doubt himself. His vision will shatter under the weight of rebellions otherwise.”
Khan smirked, teasing Monica with his confident gaze. She helplessly shook her head to join the partial façade, and more laughs resounded among them.
In the meantime, Khan reviewed Lord Rsi’s words. Confidence and firmness were already part of his skill set, but he didn’t focus on those details. Lord Rsi had mentioned something far more interesting, which ended up sticking to his mind.
‘A vision, huh,’ Khan thought. That simple word felt like a key necessary to unlock a higher mindset, and Khan even planned to explore the topic more with Lord Rsi. However, something distracted him.
The terrace’s guests were barely paying attention to the battles, but everything changed when Khan looked at the arena. His gaze was fixed on a specific spot, and his hand swiftly pushed
Monica off his lap.
Multiple battles were unfolding in the area, but one particular one had ended. The scene featured a young woman proudly standing before her defeated, kneeling opponent. The floor had also confirmed her victory, so her eyes rose to the stages, bathing in the cheers.
The kneeling young man had his face lowered, so no one noticed his empty expression. He had actually fainted, but his mana moved independently, escaping his skin.
Crackling noises spread through the area, alerting the young woman. She inspected the young man, realizing that scarlet sparks had covered his arms and shoulders. Her eyes widened as she tried to assume a defensive stance, but lightning bolts shot out before she could start to
move.
The woman couldn’t even close her eyes in time. She saw the scarlet lightning bolts darting through the air as they flew toward her. Everything also slowed down, almost hinting at her impending death, but something even quicker unfolded.
The young woman’s brain took a while to update her on the new scenery. The lightning bolts had disappeared, replaced by a thick red cape. Someone had saved her, but the aura that touched her survival instincts made her fall to her knees.
Khan ignored the woman and inspected the kneeling man. The odd sensation from before had disappeared, and the contestant slowly regained his awareness, lifting his head in confusion.
Noticing Khan froze the young man from head to toe. His slightly long black hair almost stood up in fear, and his eyes widened, revealing the depths of their green color. Khan ignored that reaction, too. He only cared about the man’s mana, which was strangely normal now. Still, he smelled something off, so he approached the contestant, lifting him from the armor piece on his shoulder to better examine him.
The contestant wanted to say something, but his throat didn’t work. Even his lungs threatened to collapse. He was only a second-level warrior, while Khan was a force of nature. The man could barely breathe, let alone speak.
Khan let go of the man, who was too frozen even to try to fall. His legs remained as straight as possible as Khan walked around him twice, seemingly searching for something. ‘Curious,’ Khan thought, ripping off the chest armor and exposing the man’s military uniform. He placed a hand at the center of his chest, closing his eyes to study the mana’s flow. That energy was strange but reminded Khan of his weapon.
Khan reopened his eyes, sending a harmless tremor inside the man. The latter barely felt it, but his mana experienced something more radical. The light shock seemingly awakened it, and scarlet sparks immediately accumulated on the contestant’s shoulders.
Khan stepped back, putting a slight distance between the man and himself to avoid safety hazards. Meanwhile, more scarlet sparks accumulated, rising above the contestant to create a
face-like picture.
The face was unclear. The sparks’ everchanging shape also didn’t help, but Khan trusted that first impression. He had also seen something similar in the past, so he let that strange mana
complete its task.
The sparks eventually shot forward, turning into a crackling cloud that converged on Khan. The attack was fast, faster than it had been against the woman, but Khan barely minded it. He was more interested in its nature than destructive force.
“Shatter,” Khan said once the cloud was about to reach him, and the sparks dispersed, turning into raw energy that disappeared in the air.
The man became free of the scarlet sparks, but his body failed to handle the last attack. His legs gave in, and his knees slammed to the floor. His hands and face were about to suffer from
the same fate, but Khan caught him and straightened his back. Nevertheless, the man had already fainted, preventing any interrogation. Khan could only tap the floor to learn his name, and “Foxnor” soon appeared on the metal. ‘Where did I hear it?’ Khan wondered. ‘Right, Istrone. I guess I owe him one.’