The genius battles were broadcast freely across every participating race and clan. Thanks to the reach of their technology, every capital city on every planet was required to house a massive projector, one capable of casting the ongoing battles across the sky itself — and the capital of Makeke was no exception. When Solanky's fight lit up the heavens above them, the entire Bayoka clan watched in stunned silence, then erupted into raw emotion. The boy from the outskirts of the Makeke jungle — the outcast — had become the most dazzling star of his generation.
The footage reached the fifth elder as well, and it was Solanky's movement technique that struck him hardest. Jealousy flared through him so violently that he snapped at the nurse tending his wounds, driving her from the room in a fit of rage. His fist clenched, trembling — but slowly, he forced himself to breathe, to still the storm inside him.
Solanky's mother stood taller than anyone that day, watching a lifelong dream unfold before her eyes. The queen came to her personally. "Your eminence," the woman bowed, deeply respectful. The queen bid her rise and offered her congratulations — another child to rival Elisa himself. Among the elite who had once scorned and mistreated Solanky, guilt crept in, quiet and unwelcome. Next to someone like him, they suddenly felt small.
Within the Suspended Worlds Secret Region, every competing clan had been granted resting quarters scattered across the countless suspended rock fragments, places where competitors and their companions could recover between battles. In one such chamber, the grand elder called together Solanky, Barusi, and Elisa to lay out the plan for their next battle — a group survival trial requiring three-member teams to prove their coordination under pressure.
The king produced a glass screen, its surface alive with the stats and power levels of every competitor. With a pinch and a swipe, he sent the display sprawling across the wall. The rules of this stage were simple in shape, brutal in execution: each trio would be dropped into an independent forested space, tasked with guarding three balls bound to their team, while trying to steal or destroy their opponents'.
Scrolling through the roster, the king paused on a cluster of names from the Purple Giant Planet. Their competitors towered over the rest of the fiery crimson star system's contestants, broader and more powerful, and it was whispered that their founding ancestor stood a half-step from dimensional godhood — enough to earn the whole race deep respect across the region.
Their strongest, a warrior named Kofis, had swept through every prior battle on raw brute force alone — four times stronger than an ordinary half god, two hundred times a high-level mortal's strength. His two companions each carried 2.6 times the power of a typical half god. Elisa, Barusi, and Solanky stared at the numbers, visibly shaken.
Elena stepped into the room. "The bloodline of the Purple Giant race carries a different kind of energy," she said, "the sort usually reserved for elementary gods and above." The grand elder's face went pale. "Could it be—" Elena nodded before he could finish. "Yes. Their half gods can sense the spiritual energy around them, and their bodies — strong, and shaped by generations of breeding — let them draw on it, though nowhere near as fluently as a true elementary god. Still, even a sliver of spiritual energy grants a half god near-perfect command of their own body, something their rivals simply don't have."
The grand elder and the king sat in stunned silence, more shaken by this than Solanky and the others, because they understood exactly what it meant — spiritual energy was the very line separating an elementary god from a half god, the thing that sharpened awareness and mastery over one's surroundings.
"There's no need to worry," Elena continued. "They can only draw on that spiritual energy for a hundred breaths before it fades from their blood. And I suspect they already know it's their weakness — which means they'll fight twice as hard to hide it." The grand elder nodded slowly. "Aside from those three, I believe we have a real chance to advance. Let me assign your roles." But Elena raised a hand. "Wait — I have a better plan. Elisa, you'll be the spear, our main striker. Barusi, you'll scout and serve as the decoy, tracking their movements. Solanky, you hold the base and guard the balls." The three of them nodded and retreated to their quarters to rest before the day ahead.
The next day arrived with crowds pouring in from every corner of the fiery crimson star system, all gathered for the competition's grand finale. The Bayoka representatives had already left their quarters for the arena, where the qualified teams stood facing their opponents, waiting to be pulled into the trial grounds. The moderator appeared overhead, perched on a floating disk, and declared the competition begun.
All participants were teleported into their forested arenas. Solanky, Elisa, and Barusi held to their arrangement without missing a beat, eliminating every opponent in their path and becoming the first team to punch through to the finals.
They were granted ten minutes to rest before the final round. Back on planet Sabiru, the celebration had already begun — for centuries their people had been an afterthought in these competitions, mocked by neighboring worlds, and now they'd proven that the strongest bloodline in the star system had come from the very planet everyone once looked down on.
The Purple Giant Planet's team advanced to the same final arena. Once both sides had rested, the moderator's voice rang out. "All previous rules remain in effect. The final begins now." The instant the words left his mouth, Kofis surged forward, flattening every tree in his path, while one of his teammates dropped into a seated stance. Solanky's eyes narrowed. "Not good — he's gathering spiritual energy. They mean to end this in a single strike." He signaled to Barusi, and the two swapped roles on the spot — Solanky became the spear, Barusi the decoy, and Elisa took over the defense.
Solanky pushed his suppressed strength to two hundred and ten times a high-level mortal's power and called on the movement technique of the dragon ape, tearing through the branches overhead. He closed in on the giant gathering spiritual energy and feigned a sneak attack — bait to draw out the last hidden opponent.
It worked. The remaining giant broke from hiding, carrying two of the balls. Solanky smiled, pushed his speed to its absolute limit, and partially awakened the bloodline of the golden-hoofed horse — closing the distance too fast for her to react, snatching the balls from her hands, and crushing one on the spot. The moment it shattered, the giant sitting cross-legged on the ground vanished, teleported out of the trial — eliminated.
Kofis glanced at his wristband and realized his team was down a member. Barusi, riding high on the momentum, grew careless — and Kofis eliminated him moments later, crushing the ball Barusi had carelessly revealed while fleeing.
Solanky shook his head, remembering he'd asked Barusi to hand over his ball before the match began — a request Barusi had refused, certain Solanky was simply showing off. Solanky snatched up a stone and hurled it toward Elisa, signaling her to move in — but Kofis surged forward to cut her off. A notification flickered across his wristband: his last teammate, gone. The shock hit him hard. Both of his companions, each formidable in their own right, eliminated in the span of ten breaths.
Elisa saw her opening. Kofis had already burned through eighty of his hundred breaths of spiritual energy, and she knew exactly where he kept his ball. She scooped a fistful of dust from the ground and flung it into his eyes, blinding him for a heartbeat — long enough to whip her long tail around and shatter the ball in one clean strike.
The arena erupted. Everyone watching, whether in the stands or through the sky projections above their own cities, could scarcely believe what they'd seen — a competitor far weaker in raw power had outmaneuvered the mighty Kofis through nothing but cunning. The moderator's voice rang out over the chaos, declaring the Bayoka clan the champions of the century's competition. The crowd rose to their feet, cheering for Elisa and the sharp instincts that had turned the tide in an instant. Kofis was teleported from the field, shaking his head — he knew, deep down, he hadn't been decisive enough. And in that same breath, a grudging respect for Elisa began to take root in him.