Rebirth of the Disgraced Noble-Chapter 94: Battle Against the Affinities

The black crystalline frost didn’t stop at encasing the western fire-wielders. It propagated like living ink spilled across parchment, racing along the sand in jagged veins that sought out every source of residual heat in the arena.

The two Thermal Jet specialists didn’t even collapse properly, their bodies simply locked rigid, statues sculpted from midnight ice and shattered alloy, mouths frozen in the middle of what might have been a final, useless command.

Aden exhaled again, slowly this time. The frost receded from his own skin in wispy tendrils of vapor that curled upward like smoke from a dying candle. His silver hair, barely disturbed earlier, now hung in perfect stillness once more.

"D—did he just..."

The hesitant voice that barely registered as a whisper didn’t come from the Tetrarchy, they were too deep in shock for useless speeches. It was from the spectator seats, and despite the voice being a mute whisper, the effect was undeniable.

The rest of the spectators who once remained rooted to their seats, not from pleasure, but from primal fear, somehow regained their breaths and their screams promptly followed.

Those in the cheaper tiers who still managed to hold onto their consciousness vaulted over each other in a frenzy, their mouths moving relentlessly as they muttered prayers to whoever they served.

Ignoring the annoying screams from the people above, Aden extended his finger towards the leader.

Despite not aiming any attack at him, he could see the man struggle for his breath, though that was only because his perception was in a league of his own.

"I will give you one chance to live," he said, his low voice carrying an unmistakable authority.

He gestured to the escaping spectators, his eyes carrying a darkness so dense it became suffocating to his opponents.

"Make sure no one leaves this Arena."

The Leader’s eyes widened to the limit, the same with his subordinates. The shock and horror didn’t stem from the fact that the person they were tasked to neutralize was currently giving them orders with their lives being the reward, no, they all believed he earned that right.

What shook them to their core was the order in itself.

The leader took a step forward, the crunching of the ground against his boots being drowned by the shrieks of the spectators.

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he lifted his finger halfway towards Aden’s head. "You want us to kill everyone here. Is that it?"

Aden didn’t respond, but the silence was louder than any scream could ever be.

"Ha... hahaha." A dry laugh slipped from his lips as he met Aden’s obsidian gaze. "You’re no hero."

"I never said I was," Aden replied.

His finger lifted and pointed toward a man trying to slip through the window. The moment it did, the man’s body went limp, collapsing against the glass.

"And you’re wasting time."

The Leader’s eyes turned cold immediately. The initial fear he and the others felt towards his existence was flatly replaced by a resignation to death.

"You can’t control us."

With those words, the wind-specialists didn’t wait. They channeled their collective Resonance into a Hurricane Vortex, intending to lift Aden into the air where he would have no leverage. The air around Aden began to spiral, a howling cyclone of grit and debris that blurred the view for the Platinum Tier.

Aden didn’t plant his feet. He didn’t fight the lift. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the wind itself.

’I gave you a chance,’ he thought, his obsidian eyes bleeding into a deeper, darker hue. ’So I’m not a monster.’

His body surged with Void energy so dense that it couldn’t be sensed by the attackers. To them, all the actions he’d taken all this while was of his own physical abilities.

As Aden was being tossed around the cyclone, he closed his eyes, and with a thought, he deleted the pressure at the center of the cyclone

As the cyclone hurled Aden through its violent currents, he simply closed his eyes, and with a thought, the pressure at its center vanished.

The resulting atmospheric collapse was instantaneous. A localized sonic boom shattered the remaining glass in the lower tiers. The wind-specialists were sucked toward Aden as if by a massive, invisible lung.

Before they could reach him, he extended his arms. Their heads snapped toward his hands as if pulled by an unseen force. His fists closed a moment later, and their heads shattered in his grasp.

The hunters’ bodies weren’t even allowed to begin their descent before they were shredded by a freezing gale of their own creation, their bodies hitting the sand with the dull thud of frozen meat.

Aden stood in the settling dust with less than a thud from beneath his feet, his silver hair barely moved by the chaos he had unleashed. He looked toward the southern hunters—the water-affinity team. They were the last ones standing.

His head turned back to the leader, and much to his surprise, therreAden stood in the settling dust, his silver hair barely moved by the chaos he had unleashed. He looked toward the southern hunters—the water-affinity team. They were the last ones standing.

He turned toward the Leader. To his surprise, there was no trace of despair on the man’s face—a stark contrast to how he had looked just minutes ago.

But before Aden could question it further, another thought surfaced.

Why did he want them to drown in despair?

He had never hesitated to kill those who came for his life, yes, but he had never taken pleasure in their suffering. He always prioritized a swift and efficient death to whoever he deemed dangerous.

Yet now...

He craved it.

Not wanting to dwell on the disturbing reality, he refocused his attention on the leader.

"You’ve let your comrades die for no just cause, and our audience has escaped," he said, pointing him. "You are a failure."

The leader chuckled lightly as he shook his head. "And you shall die here with me"