Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 432: The Usurper’s Champion

Lucas stepped forward without hesitation, his pace steady, his presence calm in a way that stood in stark contrast to the storm brewing around him. Beside him, the Ice Belle followed, her earlier indifference now replaced with a quiet, unreadable stillness, her eyes forward, her movements light yet deliberate.

The valley stretched wide before them, an open expanse that felt almost sacred in its silence, as though the land itself understood the weight of what was about to unfold. Every step they took seemed to echo faintly, not in sound, but in significance, as both armies watched from opposite ends, their attention locked onto the two figures walking toward the center.

Lucas did not look back.

There was nothing behind him that required reassurance.

Everything that mattered was ahead.

As they reached the midpoint, the air grew heavier, denser, filled with an invisible pressure that pressed against the skin and settled deep within the chest. It was the kind of presence that only powerful cultivators could create, a silent declaration of dominance that did not need to be spoken aloud.

And then, from across the valley, movement.

Lucas’s gaze sharpened.

A figure stepped forward from the opposing side, his pace unhurried, almost casual, as though this moment was nothing more than a formality to him. Even from a distance, the expression on his face was clear.

Ken.

The smug curve of his lips carried across the distance, arrogant and assured, as though he had already seen the outcome of what was about to happen.

"Of course it’s him," the Ice Belle murmured softly, her tone flat, though there was a faint edge beneath it.

Lucas did not respond.

His eyes remained fixed.

Ken approached slowly, his hands loosely at his sides, his gaze flicking between Lucas and the Ice Belle with open amusement.

"I was wondering how long it would take," Ken called out, his voice carrying effortlessly across the space between them. "You do enjoy making an entrance, don’t you?"

Lucas stopped a few steps ahead, his expression unchanged.

"I didn’t realize you were so eager to see me again," he replied calmly.

Ken chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

"Eager? No. Curious, perhaps." His eyes narrowed slightly, studying Lucas more closely. "You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble lately. I thought I should see for myself what all the noise was about."

The Ice Belle shifted slightly beside Lucas, her gaze flicking past Ken.

"You didn’t come alone," she said.

Ken’s smile widened.

"Of course not. Did you really think I would come unprepared?"

For a brief moment, nothing happened.

Then...A second presence emerged.

The man stepped forward from behind Ken, his movements slow, deliberate, each step carrying a weight that pressed against the very ground beneath him. As he came into view, the first thing that stood out was not his size, nor his posture, but his skin.

Burnt.

Scarred.

Half of his face and body bore the marks of something that had once torn through him with brutal force, the damage long healed but far from erased. The flesh was twisted, discolored, streaked with patterns that did not resemble fire.

They resembled something sharper.

Something violent.

Like lightning that had carved its way through him and refused to let go.

Lucas’s eyes narrowed slightly.

The man said nothing, but the way he looked at them spoke volumes.

There was no calm in his gaze.

No detachment.

Only raw, simmering hatred.

Ken stepped slightly to the side, gesturing lazily toward him.

"This," he said, his tone almost conversational, "is the one who will be facing you."

The man’s jaw tightened faintly, his eyes never leaving Lucas.

"So you’re the one," he said, his voice low, rough, carrying the weight of restrained fury. "The one they chose."

Lucas met his gaze without flinching.

"If you’re looking for an apology," he said evenly, "you came to the wrong place."

A faint twitch crossed the man’s scarred face, something between a smile and a snarl.

"I’m not here for apologies."

The Ice Belle’s eyes remained fixed on him, her expression unreadable, though something about her posture had changed, something more alert, more aware.

"Then you’re here for revenge," she said quietly.

The man’s gaze flicked to her briefly, then back to Lucas.

"Yes."

Back within Valerion’s army, the tension had shifted the moment the second figure revealed himself.

At first, it was confusion.

Then recognition.

Lira’s eyes widened slightly, her breath catching almost imperceptibly.

"...That man..."

Selene leaned forward just a fraction, her gaze sharpening as she tried to see more clearly across the distance.

"What is it?" she asked.

Princess Nyx said nothing at first.

Her expression hardened.

Then, slowly, she spoke.

"He’s the one."

Henrietta frowned.

"The one?"

"The one who attacked us in Lechia," Lira said, her voice quieter now, though the weight behind it was unmistakable.

Selene’s eyes widened.

"...That’s him?"

"It has to be," Nyx replied, her tone steady but cold. "Even with the damage... the presence is the same."

Henrietta crossed her arms, her gaze narrowing as she focused on the distant figure.

"But what happened to him?"

Lira’s voice dropped slightly.

"The empress."

Selene turned to her.

"You mean..."

"Yes," Lira said, her eyes still locked on the man. "She struck him down. I saw it. Lightning... it tore through him."

Nyx’s expression darkened.

"And he survived."

There was a brief silence between them as that realization settled in.

Selene exhaled slowly, her concern deepening.

"He looks... different."

"He looks worse," Henrietta muttered.

Across the valley, the man stood unmoving, his scarred body a testament to what he had endured, and what he had survived.

But it was not just his appearance.

It was his presence.

Vicious.

Unstable.

Like something that had been broken and reforged into something far more dangerous.

Nyx’s gaze hardened further.

"He didn’t just survive," she said quietly. "He came back for a reason."

Lira swallowed lightly.

"...Revenge."

Across the valley, the man’s eyes burned with that very intent, locked onto Lucas with a focus that left no room for doubt.

He had not forgotten.

And he had not forgiven.

He looked vicious now and frightening, obviously wanting to revenge.

Ken’s gaze lingered on Lucas for a moment longer before slowly shifting to the Ice Belle, his expression easing into something more amused, more calculating, as though he had just noticed a detail worth entertaining.

"Well," he said lightly, tilting his head as he observed her, "I have to admit, you’ve made an interesting choice."

Lucas did not react, but the Ice Belle’s eyes flicked toward him briefly before returning to Ken, her expression already cooling.

Ken took a few slow steps closer, his hands resting loosely behind his back, his posture relaxed in a way that felt almost mocking given the tension in the air.

"For someone like you," he continued, his tone smooth, almost conversational, "standing beside him in something like this... it seems like a waste."

The Ice Belle said nothing.

Ken smiled faintly.

"You have spirit," he added, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her more closely. "I can appreciate that. Not many would willingly walk into a fight like this, especially knowing how it ends."

Lucas’s gaze hardened just a fraction, but he remained silent.

Ken’s attention stayed on her.

"Which makes me wonder," he went on, his voice lowering slightly, "why you’ve chosen the losing side."

A brief pause followed.

Then, with a faint smirk, he added,

"You’d be better off with me."

The words hung in the air, deliberate and provocative.

The Ice Belle scoffed.

It was soft, almost dismissive, but it carried enough disdain to cut through the tension like a blade.

"You?" she said, her tone flat, unimpressed.

Ken’s smile widened slightly.

"Yes. Me."

She looked him up and down, her gaze slow, deliberate, as though assessing something thoroughly before coming to a conclusion.

Then she spoke again.

"I’d rather starve."

The words landed without hesitation.

Ken’s expression did not change immediately, but there was a faint shift in his eyes.

The Ice Belle continued, her voice calm, almost bored.

"At least then I would have an excuse for poor judgment."

A few faint reactions stirred from the distant lines, though quickly suppressed.

Ken let out a quiet chuckle, though it lacked some of its earlier ease.

"Careful," he said, his tone still light, though a subtle edge had crept in. "Confidence without strength tends to end badly."

She tilted her head slightly.

"Then it’s a good thing I have both."

That made Lucas glance at her briefly.

Ken’s smile thinned.

"You’re bold," he said.

She shrugged faintly.

"You’re annoying."

A pause.

Then she added, almost as an afterthought,

"And delusional."

Ken exhaled slowly through his nose, shaking his head slightly as though amused, though the tension beneath the surface was becoming harder to ignore.

"Well," he said, his gaze flicking briefly to Lucas before returning to her, "we’ll see how long that attitude lasts."

The Ice Belle didn’t respond this time.

She simply looked at him, her expression calm, her eyes steady, as though she had already decided he was not worth any more of her effort.

The silence that followed was heavier now, sharper, the earlier exchanges having stripped away the last traces of casualness.

What remained was intent.

And the inevitability of what was about to begin.