Lackey's Seducing Survival Odyssey

Chapter 1118: Sitting on the Frozen Throne: Part-1

The entire Empire fell into an eerie silence for a second... Yes, not just the arena—but the entire Empire itself. After all, every citizen, every noble, every soldier... everyone was watching. Their eyes glued to the screens, their hearts pounding with the weight of what had just happened.

For a moment, it looked like Kaelen had the race in his grasp—victory was within reach, right there in front of him... But in the very next heartbeat, he vanished from the track. And then... only Aria appeared, sprinting across the finish line, claiming victory.

It happened so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that people struggled to even process it. It was like their minds had momentarily glitched, questioning what they had just witnessed.

Did that really happen?

Or was it some kind of illusion?

Slowly, the live broadcast shifted to reveal what had truly transpired. The footage rewound and zoomed toward Kaelen—who, just meters before the finish line—abruptly turned away.

Why?

As the camera panned across the scene, the crowd collectively gasped at what it revealed.

There, trembling and hunched over, was an old man crouched on the ground, clutching his face in utter fear. His body shook violently, his shoulders twitching, and tears streamed down his cheeks.

Why was he so terrified?

He should have already been dead... and yet, somehow, he was still alive.

The footage continued. The old man slowly peeked through his fingers, and with a face full of dread, he turned his head ever so slightly—

Only to see the open jaws of a massive black panther, its razor-sharp teeth bared inches away from his face.

When Aria had launched her final attack, aiming at the ground instead of the monsters, the sheer force of the blast had sent several creatures flying. Some were obliterated by the impact, others fled in terror. But one... just one, had been pushed in the direction of the old man.

And that one panther lunged for the kill.

”N-No!” the old man had screamed, stumbling backward in a feeble attempt to escape. He fell hard to the ground, fear blinding him—yet just before the beast’s fangs could pierce his flesh, something else entered the frame.

A massive wolf.

It crashed into the panther, clamping its powerful jaws around its neck. The panther’s eyes rolled back, a spray of blood spilling from the torn throat, soaking the earth beneath them.

And then, the wolf tossed the lifeless body aside and began to shift—its body contorting, reshaping, until it stood as a man once more.

Kaelen.

Blood dripping from wounds on his side, breathing ragged, he extended a hand towards the old man and asked gently, ”A-Are you hurt? ha... Can you move?”

The old man blinked in disbelief, unable to speak as he turned his gaze toward the finish line... where Aria now stood, panting, victorious.

”Y-You...” the old man stammered, his voice cracking. Words failed him. Kaelen... had just abandoned his chance at the throne... to save an old man?

An old man who was closer to death than life?

Kaelen didn’t answer the unspoken question. He simply smiled, a calm and serene one, tinged with sadness. ”It’s alright,” he said, his voice low and sincere. ”I chose what mattered to me in that moment... and I’d do it again.”

Soldiers soon arrived, lifting the old man gently, helping him to the medical unit as Kaelen turned and began the slow, painful walk back to the finish line. His feet dragged, his body screamed in exhaustion, but his head remained held high.

He crossed the line last.

Aria, still catching her breath, turned toward him with a conflicted expression, guilt clear in her eyes. Her voice came out quietly, full of remorse. ”Kaelen... I’m sorry. It’s... it’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful. I didn’t mean to—”

Kaelen shook his head softly, a faint smile forming on his lips. ”You did what you had to do. That’s the whole point of this test, isn’t it?”

Thalia, watching from the higher platform, blinked in disbelief before glancing toward Maelona, who stood completely still, expression unreadable.

Of course, by every rule, Aria had won the race. She crossed the line first.

That was what the trial demanded—speed, survival, willpower. The one who finished first was the victor.

No exceptions.

No sympathy.

Maelona gave a slow, silent nod.

Thalia exhaled and raised the mic, her voice echoing through every corner of the arena. ”The winner of the final trial... is Aria Zephyr!”

A few cheers erupted from one section of the crowd. ”Yaaayy!!” Some clapped, some whistled, and children jumped in excitement.

But the rest of the audience wore conflicted expressions—confusion, anger, and disbelief written across their faces.

Because deep down, everyone knew the truth.

Kaelen would have won.

If not for that last-minute decision... if not for the old man... Kaelen would be standing as the champion right now.

”P-Please wait! Please—don’t!” the old man cried out as he was escorted by the medics. He pushed himself up, calling out desperately, ”H-He saved my life! That young man—he gave up everything for me! Please! He would’ve won the race... Please reconsider! I’m begging you!”

He almost collapsed, nearly falling to his knees, but the words were out.

And those words echoed in every listener’s heart.

The crowd began to murmur, nodding. The reality was setting in. It wasn’t Kaelen’s loss—it was a sacrifice.

The kind only a true ruler would make.

Why did he lose?

Why should a man who risked everything to save a life... be punished for it?

Maelona took the mic again, this time with a hardened voice. ”This was a race. The one who crosses the line first... wins. No matter what. That is the law of the trial. And by that law... Aria Zephyr is the winner.”

”BOOOOO!!”

This time, the boos came like a tidal wave. People stood, waving their arms, shouting in frustration. It was chaos. The people could no longer contain their discontent.

But Maelona shrugged, unmoved by the outrage. She turned slightly to Aether, as if waiting for his reaction.

Aether gave a small nod. ”Whatever happens here... I won’t interfere. This is your system, your judgment.”

Maelona didn’t respond. She simply turned and stepped down from the platform, her figure swallowed by the rising noise.

Selene leaned closer to Aether and whispered, ”He may have lost the title... but he won their hearts. Didn’t he?”

Aether smiled gently and kissed her forehead. ”Sometimes... that’s more powerful than any throne.”

His eyes drifted to Delphine, who stood across the arena—still ignoring him, pretending he didn’t exist.

Meanwhile, the elders, the council members, were murmuring amongst themselves.

”Obviously, Kaelen was the better choice,” one said in hushed urgency.

”But rules are rules,” another replied. ”No matter the obstacles, whoever finishes first... wins. That’s what was written.”

”I know. But this just doesn’t sit right...”

Their arguments faded into the background as Kaelen and Aria finally stepped into the arena again.

Their steps were heavy. Their bodies trembled from fatigue. Their skin was bruised and bloodied, yet they still moved forward with pride.

They both knelt on one knee, bowing their heads low.

Maelona descended before them, her voice calm, yet profound. ”You have done well. One of you was willing to risk everything for a stranger. The other refused to give up, no matter the cost. These are the marks of rulers—different paths, but both noble.”

She looked to her side as Liora appeared, carrying a long scroll.

Unfurling it, Maelona began to read,

”These tests were forged by sacred tradition—meant to challenge mind, body, and spirit. The scores given... are not just numbers. They are the echoes of your soul’s strength.”

Her eyes paused as she looked toward Aria.

”Aria Zephyr... receives a score of ten out of 9.1”

Gasps erupted from the elders and audience alike.

That number... was unheard of.

Even the most brilliant candidates in their history had struggled to breach a nine. And yet, Aria had surpassed even that.

The silence broke into stunned applause. People clapped, not just for the score, but for what she had endured. Her elegance. Her will to survive. Her queenly poise, even amidst guilt and chaos.

The Empire stood together in awe, the name echoing from every corner—

”Queen Aria! Queen Aria! Queen Aria...!!”

She stood, her expression stoic, proud... but still carrying a storm behind her eyes.

The wind picked up gently, fluttering her long, silver-white hair, making it shimmer under the golden light. Her figure stood tall, regal, unshakable.

Maelona hummed thoughtfully as the roaring arena slowly fell into a thick, breathless silence.

Every pair of eyes remained locked on her, and every heartbeat in the Empire seemed to pause. The anticipation was unbearable.

No one dared to speak. Most were biting their nails in nervous suspense, some with clenched jaws, others gripping their seats so hard their knuckles turned white.

What did Kaelen score?

If it was higher... if he somehow managed to beat Aria’s impossible number... could he still win?

The crowd leaned forward.

And then, Maelona’s voice rang out.

”Kaelen Darkfang receives... ten out of eight point three.”

The moment the number was spoken, silence blanketed the arena like a heavy fog.

It was over.

The winner had already been decided.

There was no catching up to Aria’s 9.1—not even with a perfect effort. Kaelen... never stood a real chance, did he?

Somewhere in the lower stands, a man let out a soft breath and clapped his hands lightly. ”Hmm... not bad,” he muttered with a shrug, his voice breaking the stillness.

Another beside him nodded. ”Honestly? 8.3’s not bad at all. That’s a damn good score—especially under pressure.”

The ripple began slowly but surely. The murmuring voices grew, overlapping as more and more people processed the result.

”Yeah... that’s actually close to what past Emperors scored during their trials.”

”True... He may not have won, but Kaelen did damn well.”

”He’s got strength. Heart too. Maybe he just faced the wrong opponent.”

”It’s not that Kaelen was weak. Aria... Aria’s just too perfect. She’s too much. Against anyone else, Kaelen would’ve taken the crown easily.”

Nods followed one after another. A wave of acceptance began to spread through the stands. Kaelen hadn’t failed. He had only been outmatched—by someone almost unnatural in her perfection.

On the higher platform, far above the rest, Aqualina narrowed her eyes at Aether, suspicion glimmering in her voice. ”You used your puppet again, didn’t you?”

Aether smiled, smug and unbothered, as if she’d caught him sneaking a snack rather than manipulating destiny.

”What can I say?” he replied with a wink. ”The stage needed some spice.”

Aqualina gave a soft, proud smirk, glancing sideways at the other women on the platform with a slight tilt of her chin—her expression practically oozing smugness.

The others watched her, their lips twitching in exasperation, but none said anything.

But then—something shifted.

It started low.

A voice.

Then two.

Then ten.

Then hundreds.

”KAELEN!”

”KAELEN!”

”KAELEN!!!”

The chants grew louder and louder, shaking the very bones of the arena.

The stone beneath their feet trembled as the sound echoed—not just within the stadium—but far, far beyond its walls.

Aqualina blinked in disbelief. ”You’re not doing that?” she asked, her voice almost drowned by the chants.

”No,” Aether replied softly, his brows drawn together as even he looked around, startled. ”This... This isn’t me.”

They both watched as the sheer volume of the crowd rose like a tidal wave.

”KAELEN!!”

The name echoed again. But now it wasn’t just inside the arena. It was across the city. It vibrated through the Empire like a heartbeat—united, thunderous, loyal.

It sounded not like the name of a loser...

But like the chant of an Emperor.

Maelona’s gaze shifted around, her eyes darting across the waves of people as the arena began to tremble from the power of the voices rising in unison.

Liora turned pale, then stood atop the edge of the platform, her body shaking—not from fear, but from overwhelming emotion.

She looked out into the distance, where crowds outside the arena were pushing in, flooding toward the gates. The people who couldn’t get seats. The ones watching from screens. The ones listening on the streets.

All of them.

All of them were shouting her son’s name.

Tears welled in her eyes, lips trembling as she tried to contain her pride. Her heart pounded in her chest.

What more could a mother possibly ask for?

Even in loss... her son had become a legend.

Maelona gritted her teeth, her fingers twitching as she rubbed her forehead in frustration. She knew what this meant.

She couldn’t go through with the ceremony now—not with the Empire calling out for Kaelen like he was already crowned.

She opened her mouth. ”Aria—”

”KAELEN!!”

”KAELEN!!”

”KAELEN!!”

The chants cut her off, rising again like a storm that refused to fade.

Maelona’s lips twitched.

She stared at the two candidates—Kaelen, still standing calmly, looking toward the sky with wonder in his eyes. Pride replaced his earlier sorrow. His chest lifted with something warmer, deeper than victory.

For the first time in his life... he felt it.

He felt truly Strong.

Aria stood beside him, silent, her own emotions unreadable, but her eyes flicked to him—just once.

Maelona exhaled, then straightened her back and rolled up the scroll in her hand.

Her voice cut sharply, commanding the silence back from the roar of the Empire.

”We’re not doing this here.”

Her eyes hardened as she stared down at the pair.

”We’ll go to the Palace. The final announcement... will be made there.”

Her words left no room for argument.

Kaelen’s name still echoed from beyond the arena.

But the path to the throne... had just taken a sharp turn.