System S.E.X. (Seduction, Expansion, eXecution)

Chapter 792: Chapter 792: The Grand Colosseum and the Imperial Trap

The creak of heavy bronze echoed against the ancient stone walls as the monumental gates swung fully open, revealing a breathtaking sight. The Golden Sun Grand Colosseum was a colossal structure capable of holding hundreds of thousands of spectators, arranged in concentric tiers of white marble and adorned with golden banners fluttering in the wind.

In the lower and upper stands, a human tide roared with excitement, creating a deafening clamor that made the complex’s foundations tremble. Delegations from vassal kingdoms and major independent sects were already seated in their respective sectors, presenting a sea of armor, refined robes, and banners of a thousand colors.

The Soaring Dragon Kingdom delegation marched down the central aisle, heading toward the royal box assigned to them in the eastern sector. The moment they appeared, the gazes of patriarchs, kings, and elders from other factions locked onto them immediately. Specifically onto Ethan.

”There he is...”, muttered a green-robed cultivator in the stands of the Sacred Wind Sect. ”That’s the brat who destroyed the heir of the Rising Sun Kingdom.”

”His aura feels strange...”, whispered another nearby noble. ”I can’t measure his cultivation clearly. It feels like a bottomless pit.”

Ethan ignored the whispers and took his seat beside Isabella in the velvet armchairs of the box. To his left, King Alaric and Great General Vaelen settled in with solemn expressions, keeping their eyes glued to the floating platform in the center of the colosseum.

Suddenly, the sound of a gong silenced the tide of voices.

A silhouette cloaked in a golden aura descended from the skies, alighting softly upon the floating platform. It was the Grand Imperial Arbiter, a stern-faced old man with eyes sharp as eagle talons, whose cultivation reached the peak of the mid-tier Dao Manifestation Realm.

”Welcome to the Grand Imperial Tournament!” echoed the Grand Arbiter’s voice, amplified by runic arrays that made the chests of everyone present throb. ”Today, the young talents representing the strength of our empire shall measure their capabilities.”

The old man paused, sweeping his eyes across the royal boxes before continuing.

”However, following the deliberations of the Imperial Council of Elders and the petitions presented by the participating kingdoms, this tournament will not be governed by individual duels.”

Great General Vaelen let out a low snort from his seat.

”The battleground for the first phase will be the Ten Thousand Abysses Realm,” announced the Arbiter, raising a jade scepter. ”A private dimensional plane where each delegation must establish a base camp and protect their banner. The trial is an all-out faction war. Troops, battle formations, and any number of registered subordinate participants are permitted. The winning faction will be the one that destroys enemy banners or forces them into surrender.”

Isabella tilted her head toward Ethan, giving him a sidelong look full of mutual understanding.

”Just as you said...”, whispered Isabella with a faint smirk. ”They designed an army trial thinking you were all by yourself.”

Ethan leaned his back against the armchair’s velvet, letting out a low, icy chuckle.

”Poor fools...”, offered Ethan.

Before authorizing the opening of the dimensional portal, the Grand Imperial Arbiter stepped aside and offered a solemn bow toward the highest box of honor. The colosseum’s runic arrays flared with a golden hue as the figure of the Emperor rose to his feet.

”Cultivators of the empire!” the sovereign’s voice echoed like thunder across the stands. ”This tournament shall not merely measure your individual strength, but your capacity to lead, survive, and command chaos. May the Dao guide your blades within the Ten Thousand Abysses Realm!”

A cheer shook the walls of the colosseum as a massive spiritual projection screen unfurled over the center of the arena. Everything occurring within the private plane—every ambush, every clash, and every drop of spilled blood—would be broadcast in real time to the spectators present in the stands.

Before the Soaring Dragon Kingdom delegation, a portal of warped light tore open in the air, revealing the rocky wasteland of the battleground.

Ethan let out a sigh, getting to his feet while adjusting the collar of his robe.

”I had no desire to get dragged into this circus,” murmured Ethan, stepping toward the spatial rift’s threshold.

Beside him, Isabella marched forward with firm steps and her chin held high. Her eyes sparkled with a restrained golden glow and a fierce determination; far from showing fear, she was eager to test the true extent of her new strength.

Following the fifteen days of intense mystic training in the imperial chamber, Isabella’s impure energy had been completely eradicated, restructuring her meridians from the ground up. Now, the princess stood proudly at the peak of the Dao Manifestation Realm. Should any of the enemy geniuses or armies make the mistake of dismissing her as mere eye candy, they would lose their heads before they could react.

”Don’t complain so much, my love,” teased Isabella with a confident smirk as they both crossed the portal’s threshold. ”Let me have a little fun as well.”

”Don’t worry,” replied Ethan with a cold smirk as he scanned the arid landscape of the Ten Thousand Abysses Realm. ”I will destroy anything that dares to come close.”

”No!” protested Isabella, pouting adorably in a way that completely contrasted with the aura emanating from her body. ”I want to feel the thrill of the hunt too.”

Ethan glanced at her sideways, amused by her expression.

”Alright, my queen,” conceded Ethan, gently caressing her cheek as the air around them began to warp under spiritual pressure. ”I will leave the best prey for you. But stay by my side.”

Isabella smiled with satisfaction, tightening her grip on her sword’s hilt as the massive spiritual projection back at the colosseum displayed the pair standing alone in the middle of the desolate rocky wasteland. In the royal boxes of the enemy kingdoms, several patriarchs formed mocking smirks upon noticing that the Soaring Dragon Kingdom delegation had only sent two people into an all-out faction war.

”They just want to die...”