The sudden appearance of a commanding presence halted the fierce battle between Selene and her opponent. A woman stepped into view, her presence radiating authority and power that made the air itself feel heavy. Her silvery hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of moonlight, shimmering with an ethereal glow that hinted at her divine lineage. Her piercing eyes, a mix of silver and violet, seemed to hold the mysteries of the cosmos within them, and her face bore the timeless beauty of one who had witnessed centuries pass.
Her long, flowing gown appeared to be woven from starlight, shifting subtly with each step she took, reflecting the brilliance of the heavens. Her aura was calm yet overwhelming, as if she was the very embodiment of the moon's serenity and its hidden ferocity.
She strode forward gracefully yet with purpose, her bare feet barely touching the ground. Each step seemed to ripple with quiet power, and her expression was a blend of disappointment and urgency. As she approached, her eyes locked onto Selene, who, despite her fierce resolve, faltered for a moment under her mother's penetrating gaze.
"Selene," her mother's voice was soft yet carried the weight of thunder, silencing the chaos around them. "Stop this madness. For once in your life, listen to me."
Selene's jaw tightened, her fiery determination refusing to waver. Her chest heaved with the effort of combat, her golden eyes blazing as she gripped her weapon tighter. "No," she said firmly, her voice shaking with defiance but also tinged with desperation. "I have to prove myself! I won't back down, Mother. Not now."
Her mother's expression softened briefly, a flicker of pain crossing her perfect features as she sighed. Then, her gaze hardened, and her entire demeanor shifted. She exuded a quiet, commanding anger that made Selene stiffen instinctively. Her voice, when she spoke again, was colder, sharper.
"Selene," she said, her tone slicing through the air like a blade. "For once in your stubborn life, listen to me. He is going to kill you, even if it's not intentional. That's how powerful he is right now." She gestured subtly toward Selene's opponent, her hand trembling slightly as if even acknowledging his power was difficult. "Do you understand? He can be compared to the Ancients right now."
Selene's defiance faltered further as her mother's words sank in. Her fiery gaze flicked toward her opponent, who stood still but radiated an ominous and overwhelming energy. He wasn't even fighting at full strength, yet the ground around him cracked and distorted under the weight of his aura. A bead of sweat rolled down Selene's temple, her breathing quickening as doubt began to creep into her heart.
But she clenched her teeth, forcing herself to remain steady. Her lips curled into a bitter, stubborn smile as she whispered, "I don't care. I'll surpass even the Ancients if I have to."
The audience erupted, not in cheers, but in a mixture of hushed whispers and gasps. Shock and disbelief painted every face in the crowd. No one had imagined Eren could win, much less awaken powers of such devastating magnitude. But the higher-ups—those seated in the shadows of the VIP area—shared a different kind of reaction.
One of the elders, an aged man with sharp features and a long, flowing beard, leaned forward in his seat, his brows furrowed deeply. His eyes narrowed, analyzing the boy on the stage with unnerving intensity. "That wasn't mana," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible to those near him. His hands clenched the armrests of his chair, his knuckles white with tension.
Beside him, a woman with piercing eyes and a cold, regal demeanor nodded subtly. "It wasn't magic, either," she said, her voice calm but laced with concern. Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the table, a rare sign of her unease. "It's... something else. Something... ancient."
The youngest of the group, a man with fiery red hair and a restless energy, leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed. His lips twisted into a nervous grin, but his eyes betrayed his discomfort. "Whatever it is," he said, "it's terrifying. That kid—he didn't even break a sweat."
Back on the stage, Eren finally moved. He rolled his shoulders slowly, the motion almost casual, but it carried an air of finality. His gaze shifted, scanning the crowd with a detached calm that sent chills through those who met his eyes. He exhaled softly, and the sound seemed to echo in the stillness.
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it wasn't one of arrogance—it was almost bittersweet. He clenched his fists briefly, his fingers trembling for a split second before steadying again. His posture straightened, and his head tilted slightly as if listening to a voice no one else could hear.
The host cleared his throat again, this time more forcefully, trying to regain some semblance of authority. He raised his microphone, his hand still shaking. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began, his voice faltering for a moment before gaining strength, "we have witnessed something... unprecedented. Eren... our victor, stands before us as proof of—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his words trailing off as Eren turned his gaze toward him. Those eyes, once unremarkable, now seemed to shimmer with an indescribable energy, a depth that made the host's knees weaken. It wasn't a glare, nor was it a threat—it was simply the gaze of someone who stood beyond the realm of comprehension.
The host's breath hitched, and he quickly looked away, pretending to adjust his microphone. "As proof," he stammered, "of a new era... perhaps."
In the crowd, whispers grew louder. Some murmured about Eren's power, others speculated about his origins, and a few openly voiced their fears. But on the stage, Eren stood unfazed, a lone figure amidst the chaos of emotions swirling around him. Whatever he had awakened, it was something no one could understand—and that made it all the more terrifying.