SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign

Elira stood behind her desk, red hair trimmed sharp, coat crisp. Not a wrinkle, not a smear of ash, nothing to suggest she'd stood through a Gigantic break hours ago. Her eyesc obsidian black, flawless, lifted immediately to him.

"Lucen Ivara." Calm, steady. No rise in tone. "Sit."

Lucen smirked, dropping into the chair opposite. "You didn't even offer tea. Hostile work environment."

Her gaze didn't flicker. "How close are you?"

He tilted his head. "To what? Coffee?"

Her eyes narrowed a fraction. "To losing control."

[Corruption Load: 94%]

The system pulsed behind his eyes like a warning bell.

Lucen leaned back, legs crossing. "You'll have to be more specific. I lose control of my finances constantly. Also my patience. Also my laundry."

Elira didn't blink. "The corruption. The tether. How far has it spread?"

For a half-second, Lucen's grin faltered. Just half.

He drummed his fingers against the armrest. "Funny. Didn't think that was in the official report."

Her gaze stayed fixed, unreadable. "Reports are irrelevant. I can see it."

Lucen smirked again, lazy. "Really? What am I, glowing purple? I'd like to know if I'm ruining my complexion."

Her silence pressed heavier than Varik's aura.

Finally, she said, "You think this Association has never seen abyss corruption before?"

The grin twitched off his face.

'…Well. That's new.'

Elira's voice was calm, razor-sharp. "Most hunters who brushed that edge are already dead. The few who weren't, are buried in research labs you will never see."

Lucen leaned forward now, elbows on knees, grin curling sharper again. "And me?"

"You're walking," Elira said. "Joking. Masking. Still yourself. That makes you unique. And dangerous."

Lucen's system chimed.

[Signal Detected: High Authority Override.]

[System Response: Suppressed.]

For a blink, his interface flickered static. Then stabilized.

Lucen's grin widened. "You can poke at my system, too. Should've guessed. How deep does this rabbit hole go, Director?"

Her eyes didn't shift. "Deeper than you are ready for."

The silence hung.

Finally, Elira folded her hands atop her desk. "This city stands because of you. But don't confuse survival with control. The corruption will break you if you let it. And if that happens—"

Her voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. "I will end you myself."

Lucen studied her for a long moment, then let out a sharp laugh. "There it is. The warmth I was missing."

He stood, stretching lazily. "Don't worry, Director. I plan on outliving every single one of you. You'll be stuck filing my paperwork for decades."

She didn't smile. She never did. But her gaze followed him all the way to the door, silent, weighing.

[Corruption Load: 94% — Stabilized.]

[Unknown Signal: Strengthening.]

Lucen shoved his hands in his pockets as the door shut behind him.

'So. She knows. Probably more than Varik. And she just admitted she'll cut me down the second I slip.'

His grin returned, sharper than ever.

'Good. Wouldn't be fun otherwise.'

The city's central plaza hadn't been this crowded since before the break. Half-collapsed towers leaned like teeth around the square, their glass still jagged, their steel still bent, but the Federal Hunter Association had chosen this space anyway.

A makeshift stage. Temporary barriers. Hundreds of hunters in uniform, plus hundreds more civilians packed into the open air, watching.

Lucen leaned against a pillar of cracked stone at the square's edge, half-listening to Selindra's voice cut sharp through the comms.

"Formal recognition ceremony. Don't speak unless spoken to."

Lucen smirked. "That's going to be difficult."

Selindra didn't respond.

The stage itself gleamed under conjured light. Elira stood at its center, a vision of poise and iron control. At her right, Varik towered, silent, unreadable. Selindra stood left, posture rigid.

It would have looked like pure FHA unity, if not for the figure striding up the steps from the opposite side.

Cairon.

Leader of the Ironclad Dominion, the largest independent guild outside the Association's leash.

He cut a figure deliberately opposite Elira's: broad-shouldered, dark bronze armor polished to mirror shine, cape trailing heavy, a longsword strapped across his back that gleamed faintly with abyssal edge.

His presence filled the air, charisma rolling off him in practiced waves.

The crowd stirred the instant they saw him. Applause in some corners. Murmurs in others.

Lucen's grin stretched. "Showtime."

Elira's eyes tracked Cairon without a flicker of emotion as he took the opposite podium, facing her.

"High Director Veyra." His voice carried through the magically amplified air, deep, resonant, confident. "The city still stands. Thanks to the blood of hunters, ours and yours both."

Elira's gaze didn't waver. "Acknowledged."

Cairon spread his arms slightly, drawing the crowd with every word. "But we cannot ignore what has changed. What has emerged." His gaze swept the plaza, then landed sharp. "One hunter. One anomaly. A relic-bearer who stood where others would have fallen. Who turned the tide by his own power."

Lucen chuckled low, hands in his pockets. 'Subtle.'

Cairon's gauntleted hand lifted, pointing directly into the crowd. Directly at him.

"Lucen Ivara. Step forward."

The crowd turned like a tide. Dozens of hunters' eyes burned into him. Civilians whispered.

Lucen sighed, rolling off the stone pillar, and began walking slow toward the stage. His grin didn't falter once.

'So this is how it's going to be. Dragged out into the open.'

He stepped up the platform stairs, boots echoing, until he stood between Elira's cold shadow and Cairon's polished blaze.

Cairon's smile was wide, welcoming, but his eyes were sharp steel. "You are proof that the FHA hides what it cannot control. Proof that independence breeds strength."

The crowd stirred harder now, tension rolling.

Elira's voice cut through it. "Lucen is under Association authority. His survival does not alter that."

Cairon turned toward her, cape swinging. "Authority means nothing when corruption bleeds through your ranks."

The word hit like a blade. Corruption.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Lucen's grin widened. "And here I thought we were keeping that a surprise."

Dozens of hunters murmured. Civilians shifted uneasily. The air thickened with doubt, suspicion, the sharp tang of fear.

Cairon's voice rose, louder, carrying. "A man tied to the abyss stands here. Power enough to save a city, yes, but corruption enough to doom it tomorrow. And yet the Association hides him, shields him, buries the truth."

Elira's expression didn't change. But Selindra's knuckles whitened at her side.

Lucen chuckled. "You give me too much credit. I'm barely keeping up with the paperwork they hand me."

The crowd didn't laugh. They leaned closer, whispers sharp.

Cairon stepped forward, aura flaring just enough to make the nearest hunters stiffen. "I challenge the Association. I challenge this…relic-bearer. Let the people see what he truly is."

[System Directive: Challenge Registered.]

[Classification: Duel — Authority Dispute.]

[Conditions: Public, Witnessed, Binding.]

Lucen blinked once as the notification burned across his vision. Then he laughed.

'Oh, this is going to be fun.'

The crowd roared, voices clashing in waves that filled the plaza with raw noise. Some shouted Cairon's name like a war-cry. Others muttered fear into their palms, eyes cutting toward Lucen with suspicion, unease, something like awe.

The [System Directive] still pulsed in his vision, bright and insistent:

[Challenge Registered: Duel — Authority Dispute.]

[Acceptance Required.]

[Location: Public Plaza.]

[Witnesses: 742 confirmed.]

Lucen tilted his head at the words, lips quirking. 'Never had a duel invitation pop up on screen before. Almost feels polite.'

Beside him, Selindra snapped sharp under her breath, low enough not to carry over the amplifiers. "Don't accept. Not here. Not like this."

Lucen glanced at her, amused. "Why not? I like an audience."

Her jaw clenched. "This isn't theater, you arrogant—"

"Enough."

Varik's voice, flat as hammered iron. He hadn't moved, hadn't looked at anyone, but the pressure in his tone was heavy enough that even Selindra bit her tongue.

Lucen chuckled softly. "Always the fun one, Varik."

Cairon raised a hand toward the crowd, his voice booming with practiced grandeur. "Let the people judge! Let them see whether this… abyss-touched anomaly deserves to stand among hunters, or be cast down before his corruption swallows us all!"

The roar doubled. Some cheered. Others jeered. Suspicion spread like flame.

Elira moved then, one step forward, her presence folding the noise flat. Her eyes locked on Lucen, black and cold, unreadable. "Do not accept."

For once, the edge in her tone wasn't command. It was warning.

Lucen tilted his head at her, grin faint but steady. 'Oh, you're nervous. That's new.'

"Director," Cairon said smoothly, bowing just enough to twist the knife, "denial of a public challenge will be seen as admission of guilt. Would you have your people believe you shelter a corrupted fraud?"

Whispers spread instantly, like oil across water.

Lucen sighed, lifted his hand lazily—and confirmed.

[Challenge Accepted.]

The crowd erupted. The [System Directive] pulsed once more:

[Duel Confirmed.]

[Combatants: Lucen Ivara (FHA Asset) vs. Cairon Drael (Guildmaster, Ironclad Dominion).]

[Commencement: Immediate.]

Selindra's hand shot toward his arm, but Varik caught her wrist with two fingers before she touched him. His gaze didn't shift from the plaza floor. "It's his choice."

Lucen smirked, rolling his shoulders as the air thickened. "Relax. Worst case, I end up a smear on the pavement. Best case, you get a new favorite executioner."

The stage cleared with military precision. Hunters in uniform drew back, dragging civilians behind the barrier wards. A wide circle of empty stone opened around them, etched instantly by glowing glyphs as the [System] locked in the arena boundary.

Cairon drew his sword in a single motion. The steel hummed with abyssal resonance, veins of black-red light pulsing along its edge. His aura flared outward, heavy, domineering, designed to make the crowd lean toward him instinctively.

Lucen cracked his neck, stretched his fingers, sparks already dancing faint between them. 'He's not bluffing. That blade's eaten abyss before.'

Selindra's voice cut in low through the comms, sharp, clipped. "You can't match him head-on. Play distance. Play speed."

Lucen chuckled under his breath. "Oh, but head-on's so much more dramatic."

The duel glyphs pulsed. The air snapped taut.

[Combat Commencing.]

Cairon's voice carried like thunder. "Let us see what the abyss has truly made of you."

Lucen grinned, mana surging up his spine like wildfire.

"Let's dance."