10. Alliance

CHAPTER 10: Alliance

The dense canopy of the Avalonian forest whispered in the wind, its ancient trees standing as silent sentinels to the secrets they held. Sunlight streamed through the gaps in the leaves, dappling the ground in shifting patterns. Amidst the serenity, the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoed, announcing the approach of an entourage.

Riding at the helm was the Heavenly Demon, his imposing figure clad in flowing black robes embroidered with crimson threads that seemed to glimmer like embers. Behind him trailed his sect members, their disciplined silence contrasting sharply with the persistent chatter of his daughter.

"Father, when will we arrive?"

The speaker was Velma, a strikingly beautiful girl of sixteen with long, midnight-black hair cascading down her back like a river of silk. Her sharp, intelligent eyes sparkled with mischief, her every movement exuding grace and charm. She was her father's pride, though he rarely admitted it.

"Velma, when we are outside, address me as Sect Master," he replied sternly, his expression a mask of authority. Yet his tone softened slightly, betraying the fondness he felt for her.

Unfazed by his attempt at formality, Velma merely rolled her eyes. "Yes, Sect Master," she quipped, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

The Heavenly Demon sighed. Her resilience and spirit reminded him too much of her late mother, a wound that still festered in his heart. But before he could dwell on the past, the skies above the forest changed.

A sudden burst of light pierced the heavens.

First came a blazing red pillar, its intensity painting the sky with hues of molten fire. Moments later, it was joined by streaks of black and gold, their radiance crackling with raw, uncontainable power. The energy that followed swept through the forest like a tidal wave, causing even the seasoned sect members to pause in awe.

The Heavenly Demon's eyes widened. "Such potent bloodlines…!" he muttered, gripping the reins of his mount tightly. He could feel the energy reverberating in his chest, a testament to the power displayed.

"We're late," he growled, spurring his mount forward. "Double your pace! We cannot afford to miss this gathering!" The entourage obeyed without question, quickening their stride as the forest blurred around them.

Meanwhile, in the heart of the Void Clan's gathering grounds, Damon stood amidst his people, a rare smile gracing his lips. The chaos and slaughter that defined his past life felt like a distant memory here, replaced by the warmth of kinship and camaraderie.

In this new life, Damon had resolved to embrace his humanity, to find sanity in the bonds he formed. Today was a celebration, and he intended to enjoy it.

He spotted his grandfather, a venerable elder of the Panda Sect, approaching with measured steps. Damon's face lit up, and he crossed the distance in a heartbeat, enveloping the old man in a warm embrace.

"Grandfather, you're looking younger every day!" Damon teased, his voice full of laughter as the elder playfully tugged at his long, silver beard.

"Hohoho, naturally! I age like fine honey, lad," his grandfather replied with a booming laugh, his eyes twinkling with delight. He had always had a soft spot for Damon, whose charm had a way of melting even the hardest of hearts.

As they exchanged pleasantries, a rotund figure waddled over, his face beaming with joy. Senior Brother James of the Panda Sect was a sight to behold—his round frame shaking with every step, his cheeks flushed with excitement.

"Damon, my boy! Look at you, growing so big and strong!" James exclaimed, his voice warm and hearty.

"And look at you, Senior Brother," Damon retorted with a mischievous grin. "Still as round as ever!"

James puffed out his chest, feigning indignation. "Round? These are muscles, boy! Pure, unadulterated power!" he declared, flexing his arms for effect.

Damon chuckled, unable to contain his amusement. "Of course, Senior Brother. Pure muscle. Forgive my ignorance!"

Their laughter rang through the gathering, drawing smiles from those nearby. Damon reveled in the lighthearted moment, a rare reprieve from the weight of his responsibilities.

But the day was not just about reunions.

As the members of his branch family arrived, Damon greeted them with open arms. His uncles approached with their children, eager to strengthen their ties to him. The children looked up at Damon with wide, admiring eyes, and he took the time to speak with each of them, planting seeds of loyalty and trust.

In his heart, Damon understood the importance of these connections. If he was to achieve his ambitions, he would need more than just strength—he would need an army. And an army was built not only through power but through bonds forged in moments like these.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting the gathering in shades of gold and amber, Damon looked out at his people. The air buzzed with laughter and conversation, the scent of roasted meats and sweet wine wafting through the air.

For the first time in a long while, Damon felt at peace.

"This," he thought to himself, "is the foundation of my legacy."

The hall resonated with anticipation, every flicker of torchlight casting long shadows across the grand chamber. Gerald stood at the center of the dais, his imposing figure radiating authority as he raised a hand to silence the murmurs.

"Thank you all for joining me on this momentous occasion," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly to every corner of the room. "Tonight, we celebrate more than tradition. Tonight, we welcome a guest of great renown."

All eyes turned to the arched entrance as the heavy oak doors creaked open. In stepped Heavenly Demon Blaire, his presence commanding as he moved with an aura of quiet confidence. At his side, his daughter Velma mirrored his poise, her sharp eyes scanning the room. Flanking them were three of Blaire's most trusted disciples, their discipline evident in their every step.

Whispers rippled through the crowd, reverent and cautious. Blaire absorbed the respect in the air, his pride swelling as he made his way to his seat. Yet, his gaze caught on a lone figure—a young boy who seemed to glow with an unspoken brilliance. Damon. Blaire's heart quickened, his lips moving in a soft murmur. "Such a heavenly genius..."

Velma leaned closer, her curiosity barely restrained. "Father, who is that?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Blaire replied, his voice tinged with intrigue as he turned his attention back to the proceedings.

The atmosphere thickened as Gerald's voice rang out again. "Attention, everyone! To honor this gathering, a competition will be held among the younger generation."

The declaration sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd. Young warriors of the Void Clan stepped forward, their determination etched onto their faces. Among them was Damon, whose mother, Dora, approached him with a radiant smile. She presented him with an exquisite axe that seemed to hum with latent power—the Avalonian Axe—and a pair of gauntlets etched with intricate runes.

"Use them well, my son," Dora said, her voice steady despite the pride shining in her eyes.

The crowd buzzed with excitement as the participants made their way to the arena. In its center, the air seemed to vibrate with energy, the tension almost tangible. Among the contenders were Kai and Rowan, scions of the Lucas and Alvine families, their names synonymous with prestige. Both bore the coveted Gold Grade bloodlines, their strength marking them as middle Commander realm experts.

Gerald's voice cut through the murmurs like a blade. "The rules are simple: no lives shall be taken. Any lethal moves will not be tolerated."

The duel began in an instant, the two warriors moving with such speed that they seemed to vanish, their clash a blur of steel and sparks. Kai's blade gleamed as he unleashed the Void Flow, a technique that sliced through Rowan's defenses with surgical precision. Rowan countered desperately, a void shield springing up just in time to deflect a fatal blow.

The crowd held its breath as the exchange intensified. Kai's relentless assault shattered Rowan's shield, forcing him to yield. A wave of cheers erupted, the Heavenly Demon himself nodding in approval. "The Void Clan's juniors are truly exceptional," he remarked to Gerald, his admiration clear.

Then it was Damon's turn. He stepped onto the stage with a quiet confidence, his every move exuding raw power. Whispers rippled through the audience. Could this young warrior truly be one of them, or was he touched by the heavens?

Sensing the challenge, Blaire beckoned one of his top disciples. The young man stepped forward, his strength evident in the steady grace of his movements. A beginner Commander realm expert, he carried himself with the weight of experience.

The air was thick with tension as Damon stepped onto the arena floor, his movements calm and deliberate. The young boy seemed entirely unfazed, his focus solely on adjusting the gauntlets strapped tightly to his hands. His unbothered demeanor sent a ripple of frustration through the Heavenly Demon's disciple, who was already standing at the opposite end of the stage.

The disciple, a man known for his arrogance and strength, sneered at Damon, his pride wounded by the boy's indifference. Fury bubbled beneath his composed exterior as he unleashed a torrent of spiritual energy, the oppressive aura rolling through the arena like a storm. He aimed to crush Damon's will before the fight even began.

But Damon didn't even blink. His gaze lifted, locking onto the disciple's with a cold, piercing intensity that seemed to cut through the man's bravado like a blade. Panic flickered in the disciple's heart, a faint but unmistakable tremor of fear. He quickly shoved it aside, forcing his face into a mask of confidence as he stepped forward.

The moment his foot touched the arena floor, the battle began. With a roar, the disciple shot forward, his sword gleaming under the arena's light as he unleashed a rapid series of slashes. The strikes were precise, each one aiming for vital points with lethal intent.

Damon, however, moved like water, his body fluid and effortless as he sidestepped each attack. The disciple's blade sliced through empty air, never once coming close to its target. Frustrated but undeterred, the disciple leaped into the air, his body twisting as he exhaled a barrage of fireballs. The flaming projectiles streaked toward Damon, their heat distorting the air around them.

As the fireballs closed in, Damon's form flickered, and he vanished.

"Crazed Step," someone in the crowd whispered, awe lacing their voice.

Damon reappeared several feet away, untouched by the flames that erupted where he had stood moments before. He stood still, his posture relaxed but commanding, his voice cutting through the dissipating smoke.

"You're not bad," he said, his tone steady, almost mocking. "Show me everything you've got."

Enraged by Damon's confidence, the disciple growled and prepared to attack again, but Damon was already moving. Void energy surged through his fists as he unleashed "Void Barrage," a flurry of punches that sent crackling spheres of energy hurtling toward his opponent.

The disciple's fireballs collided with the void spheres in midair, resulting in a series of deafening explosions. "Boom! Boom! Boom!" The shockwaves rattled the stage, sending spectators reeling backward as they shielded their faces from the intense heat and light. When the dust settled, Damon remained unscathed, his expression calm and focused.

But he wasn't done. With a sharp gesture, Damon summoned the Avalonian Axe. The weapon obeyed his call, slicing through the air like a living thing before landing firmly in his grip. Wielding it with ease, Damon charged forward, his movements a blur as he closed the distance between himself and the disciple.

The disciple barely managed to evade the first swing, the axe carving a deep gash into the stage where he had been standing. The force of the attack sent tremors through the ground, a stark reminder of Damon's overwhelming strength.

The crowd gasped, their awe palpable as they watched the boy who moved with a natural brutality, his strikes radiating raw talent and unwavering confidence.

Desperate, the disciple retaliated with everything he had. Lightning crackled along his arms, arcs of energy spiraling outward as he punched toward Damon, sending bolts of lightning streaking through the air.

Damon's eyes narrowed. With a powerful swing of Avalonian, he met the lightning head-on, the blade slicing through the energy and splitting it into harmless streams that fizzled into the ground.

"Did he just... redirect it?" someone in the crowd gasped, their disbelief echoing through the hushed arena.

The disciple froze, staring at Damon in wide-eyed shock. For the first time, he felt the crushing weight of his opponent's superiority. Damon stood tall, his figure illuminated by the faint glow of void energy, his confidence radiating like an unyielding flame.

The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices a thunderous roar as they celebrated the young warrior. Among them, the Heavenly Demon watched in silence, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. This boy, this prodigy, was unlike any other. Damon was a force of nature, destined to carve his legacy into the annals of history.