Boom! Boom! Boom!
Against these five, Locke did not employ spatial rifts as shields the way he had against Bella of Bloodriver Prefecture.
Back then, Bella's control over power—boosted crudely by Sovereign's Power—had been sloppy. His attacks couldn't pierce Locke's spatial defenses.
But these five were different.
Their foundations were stronger.
And more importantly—
They wielded Sovereign Artifacts.
Even chaotic spatial turbulence could not damage such weapons. If Locke relied on spatial rifts defensively, the artifacts would simply punch through and injure him directly.
So instead—
He advanced.
Palm after palm layered outward, sealing the five within a confined region of sky.
Outside the arena, spectators were speechless.
Even the Sovereigns watching via divine sense were entertained.
To them, whether Locke or the five emissaries—
all were insects.
Strong insects.
Entertaining insects.
But insects nonetheless.
Still—
A five-on-one battle at this level was rare spectacle.
Sovereign's Power, once used, dissipates continuously unless reinforced by Will.
Of the five, Jiro—who had activated it first—showed weakening flames earliest.
His expression shifted.
"Cover me!"
He took a direct palm strike, spat blood, and disengaged instead of counterattacking.
The other four risked themselves to block Locke's follow-up, buying Jiro time to reabsorb another drop.
Locke's gaze darkened.
One use for dignity?
Acceptable.
Repeated cycling of Sovereign's Power to stall?
Unacceptable.
"Extreme Frost Domain."
In an instant—
A terrifying chill flooded the arena.
Everything turned white.
Even the five Sovereign-empowered Seven-Star Fiends were frozen solid.
Locke vanished—
Reappeared before Jiro—
Struck a palm that tore open a massive spatial fissure behind him—
And kicked the frozen figure straight into chaotic spatial turbulence.
Silence.
Even the Sovereigns were stunned.
Jiro still possessed residual Sovereign's Power.
Locke could not kill him directly.
But in chaotic turbulence—
Without a material defense Sovereign Artifact—
He would not survive.
The flames around him would fade in three breaths.
Unless a Sovereign personally intervened—
Jiro was doomed.
The remaining four shattered their ice prisons.
Seeing Jiro's fate—
Their faces turned pale.
"I concede!"
Beckel raised both hands and fled the arena.
Merman followed immediately.
Only Solaris and Andrena remained.
Their Sovereigns—the two Amethyst Sovereigns—had modest expectations.
Show presence.
Display influence.
That was enough.
Amethyst Castle already existed in all 108 prefectures and fully across Amethyst Continent.
They were not desperate for faith.
The two exchanged bitter looks.
In the eyes of gods—
Sovereign emissary was glory.
In reality—
They were merely tools.
"You wish to continue?" Locke asked mildly.
"If you fight on, I will not hold back."
Solaris and Andrena shook their heads.
"If we had a choice, we would not."
"But we do not."
"To fall to you, Lord Locke… is not shameful."
They burned another drop of Sovereign's Power.
Their auras surged again.
They attacked simultaneously.
Two Sovereign Artifacts pierced space, dragging chaotic currents in their wake.
Locke lifted his head.
His eyes deepened—
Like twin black holes.
"Eye of Hell · Eighteen Hells."
His soul linked through their gaze.
And in that instant—
He shared what he had endured.
Copper Pillar Hell.
The sixth layer.
The real-world instant lasted less than a blink.
But within Locke's illusion—
It spanned over three thousand years.
Three thousand years of torment.
Their souls screamed.
"AAAAAA—!"
Tongues torn.
Bodies sliced.
Impaled on iron trees.
Scalded in steam.
Burned against copper pillars.
Climbed blade mountains.
Frozen in ice hell.
Boiled in oil.
Though Sovereign's Power disrupted the illusion quickly—
The psychological time distortion had already done its damage.
Their souls had experienced three thousand years.
Their bodies began manifesting the injuries of the torments.
Though Sovereign's Power healed each wound instantly—
The illusion reimposed it again.
Healing.
Reappearance.
Healing.
Reappearance.
Until finally—
Their souls stabilized enough to break free entirely.
They collapsed onto the arena floor, gasping.
Their eyes, fixed on Locke—
Overflowed with terror.
They had never seen such soul technique.
Never imagined such horror.
If not for the lingering Sovereign's Power flame—
They might have believed they truly suffered millennia in Hell.
Above—
Several Sovereigns fell silent.
This was no ordinary soul attack.
This was—
A weapon capable of breaking will itself.
And Locke—
Had not yet revealed everything.
Muya understood.
Pax understood.
The battlefield had changed.
The question was no longer who would win the title.
It was—
Who had misjudged Locke most severely.
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