Meanwhile...

  "S.O.L.A.R.I!"

  "S.A.B.E.R!"

  "S.I.L.V.E.R!"

  The roar of the crowd was deafening, every eye glued to the rectangular illusions lining the center of the Great Hall. These screens flickered with live feeds from inside the "Triangle"—a massive, three-sided dungeon. At the heart of the hall, a majestic earthen-colored hologram of the fortress pulsed with light. Inside it, tiny colored dots shifted and merged. Each one representing a contender fighting for a future.

  One hundred floors. One hundred nightmares.

  The early levels were a breeze—fodder monsters for the masses. But as the dots climbed higher, the gravity of the challenge intensified. This wasn't just a game. It was a gauntlet to find the kingdom's next legends. The winner would serve the King directly, while those who could claw their way to the 90th floor would earn the prestigious title of Higher Palace Knights upon graduation.

  "S.O.L.A.R.I.! SOLARI!"

  The Elders stiffened in their seats as a sudden, rhythmic chant erupted from the stands. A few spectators laughed, recognizing the rowdy group, and soon the entire hall was vibrating with the force of competing fanbases.

  "SABER! SABER! SABER!"

  "SILVER! SILVER! SILVER!"

  "WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU! LOUDER!" Kyla, the official speaker for the event, screamed into her mic from the high balcony. She suppressed a grin. She knew that rowdy bunch—they were her fellow hunters—and while she had to remain professional, her heart was secretly riding with their chosen candidate.

  Inside the Triangle, however, there was only silence and sweat. The contenders couldn't hear the fans; they were too busy surviving. Some crossed paths, blades clashing as they tried to sabotage each other’s ascent.

  Among the sea of dots, three moved with terrifying speed. Two were neck-and-neck, but the third? The third was a predator behind a golden dragon mask, consistently three to four floors ahead of the rest.

  "GO, CAPTAIN!" Akiro bellowed, his lungs burning.

  "WOOOOOOH! SOLARI FOR THE WIN!" Glecy and Verna shrieked in unison, joined by a growing wave of students. Nearby, Ryden kept it cool, punching his fist into the air with a smirk as their party leader—the one they called Solari—dominated the board.

  "Unbelievable," Verna muttered, eyes wide. "Captain makes those trials look like a morning stroll."

  "Easy for him," Glecy countered. "Look at the two Princes. They’re sweating just trying to keep up. Half the other contestants haven't even hit the midway point yet!"

  "Maybe we should ask Captain for some 'tricks' so we can climb that fast next time?"

  Glecy shot her a look, one eyebrow arched high. "Why? Are you tired of living?"

  Verna winced. "Never mind."

  They knew the truth. Their leader possessed a monstrous, soul-crushing strength. Verna sighed to herself, Maybe if I train my whole life... no, I’d still never reach that level. She felt like crying just thinking about the gap between them.

  As the sun climbed, the focus of the entire kingdom narrowed down to three names. Erus the Tyrant, better known by his hunter code name, Solari, held the lead with an iron grip. Trailing four floors behind were the two Princes, Spade and Saber, struggling through the evolving trials.

  The moment all three hit the 90th floor, the Great Hall exploded. The fans were no longer just cheering; they were on the verge of a riot, ready to do battle for their biases. The Princes had the numbers, but Solari?

  Solari had the lead.

  Verna and Glecy shrieked as they saw Erus' marker touch the 97th floor, hammering on Ryden's shoulders with joy. Though Ryden wanted to protest, he had to tolerate the outburst or he’d get beaten for real during the event.

  On the rectangular display, a sterile white void appeared—the 97th floor. Erus walked casually through the space, analyzing the next test. Thousands of crystals floated around him, some red and others transparent. While the transparent crystals looked ordinary and valueless, the red ones glowed like treasures.

  Erus furrowed his brow behind his golden dragon mask. What logic governed the trial of the 97th floor? Should he count, collect, or smash?

  On every floor he’d passed so far, there had been no instructions. He had relied purely on strength and intellect, whacking monsters and nailing mind-boggling riddles like a pro.

  He scratched his head like a boy growing impatient, then stopped when he noticed golden energy swirling around him. It followed his every move.

  Life essence?

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  He reached out. The moment the energy touched his palms, he felt a magical vibration. An HP bar appeared over his left hand. He sighed. This floor had something to do with his life force, and the essence he’d collected was clearly linked to the floating crystals.

  "Help!"

  "Help us!"

  "Save us!"

  Voices began to echo within the void. Erus observed intently, realizing the pleas were coming from the crystals. Bold, loud voices boomed from the red crystals, while the transparent ones emitted faint, fading cries that seemed to sway in the wind.

  The red crystals were tempting—clearly higher in value.

  But Erus trusted his intuition. He closed his eyes and let his Zen out, sensing the truth behind the noise. The red crystals represented high-ranking officials. The transparent ones were ordinary citizens.

  What a task, he thought dryly.

  The trial was a choice. Who should he save?

  People had always seen him as a monster, branding him a "Tyrant" since his teenage years because of his cold logic—a result of what the world had fed him. He trusted no one except his mother.

  Did he need a scale for this? If he were a king, both groups would be worth saving. He looked at the HP bar on his arm. Saving any crystal would cost him health. He didn’t know if reaching zero meant actual death, but history suggested the stakes were that high.

  He needed to be clever. He couldn't afford to waste his life on a mistake.

  Think, Erus! He commanded himself.

  Through his Zen, Erus stared at the glowing red crystals of the elite and the transparent shards of the ordinary citizens. Their pleas reached a fever pitch, screaming for his attention. He waited for a spark of pity, a nudge of conscience—anything.

  But after minutes of weighing the lives before him, he felt nothing.

  He opened his eyes and let out a sigh of pure impatience. Whether he used his Zen or his naked eyes, the result was the same. The crystals were just objects. The pleas were no longer voices of pitiful creatures. They were just noise.

  He glanced at his left wrist. The HP bar remained full, mocking the moral gravity of the room. Erus began to roam the void like a curious predator, searching for the floor's exit while completely ignoring the frantic crystals.

  The trial had made a fatal mistake. Erus wasn’t born with the heart of a hero. He was born to survive.

  Outside, the audience watched the 97th floor in a stunned, heavy silence. They were waiting for a hero to emerge from a man they had always feared. They wanted the suspense to break with an act of grace.

  Verna clasped her hands tight, praying their Captain would do the right thing. To her, the answer was simple, saving lives was the only key to success. But Verna was a Holy Shield user and her very soul was built to defend the weak. She couldn't understand a mind that saw no value in the cry for help.

  Kyla remained quiet. She wanted to see a glimmer of warmth from him—even just ten percent empathy would have been priceless. But she knew his history. She had seen the world beat the little version of Erus until he learned to bite back. He hadn't just learned to fight, he had learned to be savage.

  They dared not approach Erus before out of fright until the Guild Master formed their party, The Grand Abyss. They had made Erus their leader because he was the strongest, but they soon realized his strength wasn't just physical. He had a knack for command, though it was devoid of affection.

  He was a ruthless leader with only one rule: "Do not die on me, or I'll kill you twice."

  Erus sneezed while searching for the exit.

  Is someone badmouthing me? He thought.

  He glanced at the crystals. Perhaps instead of pleading for help, they were cursing him now. He smirked. There was a twisted satisfaction in that thought. Dismissing them, he continued his search for an exit he was beginning to believe didn't exist. Were the crystals truly the only way? The void was so perfectly empty it could drive a man mad if he stayed still for too long.

  Just as he was about to give up, his eyes caught a microscopic shimmer—a sliver of light no thicker than a strand of hair. Most would have dismissed it as a mere reflection from the crystals, but Erus knew better.

  He let out a short, husky laugh—a sharp, mocking sound that carried a predatory edge. If the audience could see the expression behind his golden mask, they would either recoil in hate or fall hopelessly under his gaze. With a steady hand, he parted the thin gap.

  As he stepped toward the gap, the melodic pleas of the crystals curdled into a jagged, overlapping hiss. The voices shifted, mimicking the ghosts of his childhood.

  "Witch-born!" One voice shrieked, sounding suspiciously like a tutor he’d once hated.

  "Look at him," another whispered, cold and clinical. "A savage animal wearing a crown’s shadow. He doesn't use magic. He mimics it with the strength of a demon."

  The voices grew louder, a whirlwind of his past. "Your mother is screaming in the abyss, Erus. Won't you join her? Or are you too busy playing 'Human' for the people?"

  Erus didn't even break his stride. To him, this wasn't a revelation—it was a Tuesday. He’d heard these words in the hallways of the palace since he was old enough to crawl.

  "Same old script," he muttered, the husky vibration of his voice cutting through the spectral noise. "Get some new material."

  It was exactly what he had expected from the start. Snorting in disgust, he stepped through the threshold without a single glance back, reaching the 98th floor unscathed.

  Back on the 97th floor, the audience watched in stunned silence as the sterile white void dismantled. The crystals shattered into fine dust, their voices fading into a ghostly echo.

  Verna covered her mouth, a gasp escaping her. Was her own worldview so simple that she hadn't seen this coming? She would have sacrificed a life for those insignificant, manipulative voices. She felt a wave of self-loathing, yet she was relieved. She should never have doubted a man who bore the Solari codename.

  "What a lion," Ryden commented, a grin of pure pride spreading across his face.

  "He’s a dinosaur!" Akiro shouted, slamming a high-five into Ryden’s hand.

  While the boys rejoiced, Glecy remained caught in a web of 'what ifs.' If Erus had tried to save even one crystal, would he have found redemption? Or was his cold lack of empathy exactly what saved him?

  Kyla offered a timid smile, her heart racing. She rooted for him in silence. Her eyes darting a mocking look toward the Elders while ignoring her own grandfather, who was secretly clapping against his thighs. The other Elders looked grim. They didn't see a hero. They saw a rising terror that needed to be contained.

  "THAT’S OUR TOP TOUGH GUY!" A voice boomed, loud enough to rattle teeth.

  The crowd turned toward the top tiers of the arena. There stood a man in his forties, hands on his hips, radiating shameless pride, Nick Sabatican. He was the Guild Master of the Castle of Lions. A ruthless legend in his own right, he was the only one who treated the terrifying Erus like an annoying younger brother.

  "Didn’t we give him enough paperwork to last two days?" Akiro whispered, horrified. "How did he get out?"

  They had buried him in documents specifically to prevent a scene, knowing Nick’s penchant for chaos—especially when Erus was involved. The group shared a collective shrug. No one knew who had let the other lion out of his cage.

  Welcome to the World of Destruction

  Marking His Prize with you here on Royal Road. This isn't your typical fairy tale. If you’re looking for a story where the stakes are as high as the heavens and the romance is as intense as a dragon’s flame, you’ve found your next obsession.

  ??A Possessive Dragon King who would burn the world to keep what is his.

  A Primordial Goddess rediscovering a power that could shatter the stars.

  A 'Slow-Burn' Romance that is as beautiful as it is dangerous.

  A Quick Note: This story is rated Mature (18+). It contains dark themes, intense emotional conflict, and a 'grimdark' fantasy world. Read at your own risk... and enjoy the ride.

  Follow and Add to Library so you never miss an update on Erus and Cana’s journey. I can't wait to hear your theories in the comments!

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