Chapter 19: Chapter 16: The Call Of The Clans
The grand halls of the Eternal Summit were filled with an ancient, almost godly atmosphere. Lighted by golden torches that danced with a mysterious flame, the carvings along the walls told tales about the century of sects, clans, and warriors who once shaped the fate of the continent. Now, the new generation stood at the heart of history. The clans, rivals in so many ways to each other, had unified under the growing threat of the Mellians. The meeting wasn't one of unity but of strength, alliances, and motives underneath it all. In their world, everything was a chess game, and nothing more valuable could be asked of the young prodigies who stood before their elders.
In the middle of the grand hall, Jayson and his companions stood together, feeling the weight of dozens of eyes scrutinizing them. Jayson's sword rested lightly at his side, its aura flickering faintly. Diane stood slightly behind him, her piercing eyes scanning the hall for any signs of treachery. Mike, standing to the right of Cindy, wore his usual calm expression, though his shoulders were slightly stiff.
The elders sat in high chairs, placed in a semicircle, representing the most powerful clans: the Grayhair Clan, Styles Clan, Windflame Clan, and a dozen others. There was silence in the room, tension thick between them despite the truce that had been called. Everyone knew this gathering was as much about the Mellian threat as about which clan would hold the greatest influence in the years to come.
Step forward, chosen ones," the deep voice of Elder Arthus of Grayhair Clan boomed, his eyes gleaming beneath bushy brows.
As one, the group stepped forward; the echo of their footsteps seemed to resound off the marble floor.
"Today," Elder Arthus continued, "we acknowledge the rising stars of this era. The Mellian threat is not just a danger to our world—it is a test, one that only the strong will survive. The fate of our world may well rest on the shoulders of those standing before us. But before we entrust them with such responsibility, we must be certain of their worth."
The elders muttered in agreement as the air turned heavy and the slightest pulse of energy began leaking into the room.
"This is a call to arms for the clans," another said, one elder from the Windflame Clan. "Not all of you will be worthy. Some among you stand proud, while some must fall.
They exchanged glances. It wasn't to be more than a perfunctorial summons, yet already the stakes were being raised.
The words still echoed, and Mike felt the weight of many gazes upon him. Some were curious, others condescending, and a few were hostile. He wasn't blind to the disdain most clans felt for him, a commoner with no lineage or noble blood. And his relationship with Cindy, one of the most prominent heirs of the Styles Clan, only made him a target of resentment.
As the conjuration went on, the attention abruptly fell upon Mike when a voice burst from behind the Styles Clan contingent.
"Enough of this mockery!"
The audience abruptly looked at him now-their target. Gabriel Styles stood tall, burly, his sharp facial features twisted as he strode forward. His scarlet-gold regalia spoke depth of his bearing with arrogance, with pride, for this was one with the power of the House of Styles.
This is an insult to the Styles Clan," Gabriel said, his voice full of venom. "That a commoner like him dares to stand beside my cousin is laughable enough. But to suggest he is worthy of representing us in this gathering? Preposterous!"
There was a stir among the crowd.
Mike didn't react immediately. His calm demeanor remained unchanged, but Jayson, Diane, and the others tensed. Cindy, however, stepped forward, fury blazing in her eyes.
"Gabriel, enough!" she snapped, her voice firm and steady. "Mike has proven himself more than worthy. His strength, his determination, and his heart are unmatched. You, of all people, have no right to question him."
Gabriel sneered. "Oh, Cindy, you've always been naive. Strength? Determination? Those mean nothing without lineage, without pedigree. You are blinded by foolish emotions."
Cindy took another step forward, her hand clenching on the hilt of her weapon. "Say one more word, Gabriel, and I'll—"
"Let him speak," Mike cut in, his voice calm but resolute. He laid a firm hand on Cindy's shoulder, drawing her back.
Gabriel laughed. "Oh, the commoner can speak. Well, then, Mike, tell me-something-do you feel out of place? Do you actually think you are good enough for her?"
The gaze of Mike met Gabriel's as he kept on with equanimity, his tone very plain. "Belief doesn't enter into it," he told him. "I've earned the right. If you or anyone else have a problem with that, then I don't back down.".
The smirk fell from Gabriel's face, replaced by a scowl. "Then prove it. Here and now. If you're as strong as you claim, then fight me. Prove your worth."
The hall fell silent. The elders exchanged glances, some intrigued, others disapproving.
"This is unnecessary," Elder Arthus said, his tone measured. "But if it will settle this dispute…
The air thickened as a round arena appeared in the middle of the hall, with the marble floor shifting and changing.
Mike stepped forward without any hesitation; his gaze did not leave Gabriel's. Cindy looked at him, concern etched on her face, but she did nothing to try to stop him. She knew he needed to do this, not just for himself but for their relationship.
Gabriel drew a shining sabre, tracing golden runes across its length, pulsing with energy. "You will regret this, commoner," he snarled.
Mike said nothing. He merely raised his hand, and a plain unornamented spear materialized in his grasp. The disparity between the two weapons couldn't have been greater, yet Mike showed no diffidence.
The fight began with a burst of energy as Gabriel lunged forward, his saber slashing through the air with incredible speed. Mike sidestepped effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. Gabriel attacked again and again, each strike more powerful than the last, but Mike dodged them all with almost unnatural grace.
"You're fast," Gabriel admitted, his voice laced with frustration. "But speed alone won't save you."
Suddenly, with another mighty roar, he brought forth a power of golden saber waves that literally shot at Mike in a wave like that of an unending tidal wave.
Mike planted his spear in the ground, channeling his own energy into a barrier that absorbed the attack. The clash of energies sent shockwaves through the hall, but Mike remained steady.
Then he counterattacked. In an instant, he had closed the gap between them; his spear was quick and sure. Gabriel blocked the first strike, barely, but the force of the blow sent him sliding backward.
The onlookers watched in silent amazement as the fight continued. Mike's movements were a perfect blend of offense and defense, his mastery of the spear on full display. Gabriel, despite his superior weapon and techniques, was slowly being overwhelmed.
"You underestimated him," Jayson muttered to Diane, a faint smile on his lips.
Diane nodded. "He's not just fighting for himself. He's fighting for her.
The fight finally reached its climax as Gabriel used his strongest technique-a blazing, golden energy slash that threatened to consume everything in the area.
Mike was not daunted. He channeled every ounce of his energy into his spear, thrusting it forward in a shout. The two explosions of light and sound then clashed in the most dazzling possible way.
When the dust settled, Gabriel lay on the ground, his saber in pieces. Mike stood tall, his spear still in his hand, his eyes cool and unruffled.
The hall burst into murmurs; the eyes that had looked so disdainful now shone with respect and awe.
Cindy ran up to Mike's side and looked up at him, her eyes shining with pride. "You were amazing," she said softly.
Mike smiled. "I told you, I won't back down.
Elder Arthus stepped forward, his voice cutting through the murmurs. "Let this be a lesson to all of us," he said. "Strength comes from within, not from lineage or pedigree. Mike has proved himself worthy, not just of this gathering but of respect by all clans."
The rest of the elders nodded in agreement, and even Gabriel could not argue against it, though defeated.
As they left the arena, joined together and even more powerful than before, Jayson could not help but feel a sense of pride. More than just a group of warriors, they were a family.
But as they walked away, in the distance loomed a shadow. The Mellians were coming, and this was only just the beginning.
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