CHAPTER 283: TITLED PRACTITIONERS

The first golden rays of dawn pierced through the market area, casting warm streaks of light over the tense crowd. The air itself seemed charged, heavy with anticipation and unspoken whispers.

At the center stood the enormous white tent, as imposing as ever, its size enough to dwarf the surrounding hills. Yet today, a notable change had occurred: all the smaller individual tents that normally clustered around it had been removed, leaving a vast open space that made the main tent’s dominance even more pronounced.

Around the colossal structure, a sea of practitioners had gathered.

Every kingdom and race was represented, their auras pulsing with varying intensity—from freshly awakened Rank 1s to the formidable Rank 4s.

They huddled in groups, waiting silently, eyes fixed on the tent, yet none daring to enter. The air was thick with restrained energy, the crowd collectively holding its breath for the moment they would be summoned inside.

Every second, new arrivals appeared, gliding silently above on flying Sparks or racing along the ground. Their approach was almost ceremonial, yet all attention immediately shifted, drawn like a magnet to the horizon.

There, a colossal shadow emerged, massive beyond comprehension, cutting through the sky with a presence so commanding that it seemed to bend the very air around it. The crowd collectively inhaled, a hushed murmur trembling through the assembly as every gaze locked on the approaching figure, powerless to look away.

"Finally... here comes the big ones."

"To have a Rank 4 Spark as a mount... what prestige."

"I wonder if I’ll ever have a Rank 4 Spark in my lifetime."

The whispers carried awe, respect, and reverence—but also a subtle tinge of envy. All eyes turned upward, drawn to the approaching figure as if it were descending from the heavens themselves.

At first glance, the creature resembled a colossal whale, its size impossible to ignore—at least 200 meters in length—and it moved through the air as gracefully as if swimming through the ocean.

Its silvery body mirrored the sky above, blending almost perfectly with the clouds and sunlight, creating a subtle, reflective camouflage.

As the Rank 4 Spark drew closer, the gathered practitioners could finally make out the figure atop it. A single name rippled through the crowd, heavy with weight and awe:

"Silverlight Zephan."

Atop the massive silver whale stood Zephan Luna, the most powerful man of the Lunari Kingdom.

He was perched confidently at the head of the creature, silver hair flowing like liquid light behind him.

His youthful appearance was deceiving; all knew that he was centuries old. Every movement, every gaze emanated authority, pressing down on the market below with oppressive weight.

He bore the distinction of a Titled Practitioner, radiating authority that drew reverence, astonishment, and unease in equal measure. The monumental size of the Spark, coupled with the unwavering command of its rider, seemed to warp the very atmosphere, each breath of wind charged with tense expectancy.

Behind Silverlight Zephan, the expanse of the massive silver whale carried dozens of other Practitioners, each positioned with deliberate grace.

Though their might did not overshadow Zephan, the 2 Rank 4 elders and several Rank 3 Practitioners of the Lunari Kingdom carried an unmistakable gravity, their forms emanating an aura of authority that drew every gaze and quickened the hearts of those below. Perched on the whale’s vast back, their stately figures radiated centuries of mastery, their silent dominion felt rather than announced.

Closer to the whale’s central expanse, the younger contingent took their places—selected Rank 1 and Rank 2 Practitioners, ready for the Legacy Domain.

Among them, one figure radiated an effortless magnetism that silenced the murmurs: Thalira Luna. Sharp-minded and striking, she dominated the sightline with an air of natural aura, her every movement reflecting the brilliance and potential of the kingdom’s next generation.

While every gaze remained fixed on the colossal Silver Whale and its imposing passengers as it began its descent, another massive silhouette emerged on the horizon.

"Tch... Sevrak, the Dragon Rider."

A ripple of murmurs spread among the gathered Practitioners, though this time the awe was tinged with unease and veiled contempt.

The enormous Black Dragon tore through the air, its vast wings slicing the atmosphere like a predator stalking its prey.

At its massive head stood Sevrak, his long black hair streaming behind him, clad entirely in obsidian armor that clung to his lean frame, every contour of his body exuding lethal precision.

As the bearer of a Rank 4 Spark and ruler of the Umbraen Kingdom, his aura rivaled that of Silverlight Zephan, radiating a palpable weight that pressed down upon all who dared look up.

Unlike the 2 Lunari elders on the whale, three Rank 4 Practitioners flanked Sevrak, standing tall and unwavering. Their disciplined posture and visible respect for their master amplified the oppressive intensity emanating from the Dragon, layering the presence of authority like a tangible force.

Kharom, the Umbraen prodigy and grandson of a legendary figure, stood among them with an air of audacious superiority. His dark eyes swept arrogantly over the mass of Practitioners below, as if calculating their worth while asserting his own unspoken dominance.

On the dragon’s broad back, nearly a hundred Rank 1 and Rank 2 practitioners from the new generation waited silently, their composed stances betraying a quiet arrogance.

Every subtle gesture and glance radiated the confidence of those bred for superiority, their collective poise amplifying the sense of control and supremacy that the Dragon and its riders projected over the gathered assembly.

’’With this, only one more titled powerhouse remained absent.’’

As the Black Dragon completed its descent a short distance from the massive Silver Whale, whispers rippled through the crowd once more—quickly fading into a tense silence.

From the east, where the first golden rays of the sun spilled across the market, a sudden shadow fell over the entire square. A massive presence, unlike anything the Practitioners had yet seen, drifted forward, blocking the sunlight as it approached.

This creature was entirely alien in shape. Unlike the Whale or the Dragon, it moved as a single, colossal sphere, gliding slowly through the air, its size immense yet slightly smaller than the other two.

At first, it seemed like nothing more than a gigantic orb of flesh. But as it drew nearer, the true horror became apparent.

Upon the surface of this enormous sphere was embedded a single, gigantic eye—its iris shimmering with an unnatural, almost otherworldly light.

The eye scanned the market with deliberate slowness, unblinking, and all at once it felt alive, sentient, as though it was weighing every soul beneath it.

Shadows danced across the vast ground in its gaze, bending reality itself slightly as the enormous orb hovered silently, exuding a cold, calculating menace. Every heartbeat of the observers faltered under its scrutiny; the eye did not merely watch—it imposed itself, a hovering, omnipotent sentinel that filled the air with a suffocating sense of dread.

"Is that the Rank 4 Spark said to belong to Brakthar Gorat? The Soulforge?"

Among all the races, the Gorathim lived the most secluded lives, revealing themselves to the public only rarely. For most Practitioners, this was the first time witnessing this Rank 4 Spark with their own eyes. As a result, it drew far more attention and curiosity than Sevrak’s Black Dragon or Zephan’s Silver Whale.

The name and title of the final, most enigmatic Rank 4 Practitioner in the Outer Region carried through the crowd with a weight that surpassed anything familiar—the unknown always commanded greater fascination than the known.