Lady Altaris moved forward with an elegance that seemed to defy gravity, her crystalline form refracting light into sharp, shifting rainbows. Each step was deliberate, each movement a precise display of power and control. Where Ignathar's authority had burned like molten gold, Altaris's presence was a shard of ice, piercing and unrelenting. Her emerald-like eyes gleamed with a brilliance that cut through the air, and the tension in the room deepened with her approach.
Her voice joined the symphony of the Twelve, distinct yet perfectly interwoven with the others. It was sharp, like the chiming of glass breaking, slicing through the silence with a clarity that left no room for doubt. "Kosmo," she began, her gaze falling upon the kneeling fighter. Her tone carried acknowledgment, but it was far from warm.
"You displayed the discipline of a tactician," Altaris said, her words deliberate and cutting. "Your strikes were measured, your movements deliberate. You did not allow the chaos to overtake you." Her crystalline eyes narrowed, the sharpness of her tone growing colder. "And yet you hesitated. You held back when the match demanded finality. Mercy, unless wielded with precision, is a flaw. To hesitate, Kosmo, is to invite ruin."
Kosmo remained still, his head bowed in acknowledgment. His breathing was steady but slow, the strain of maintaining composure evident in the slight tremor of his shoulders. Altaris's words cut through him, dissecting his performance with surgical precision. Yet he endured, his silence unbroken.
Altaris's gaze shifted to Alexander, and the light in the chamber seemed to harden, refracting into jagged, dangerous edges. The brilliance of her form grew brighter, the colors sharper, as though her very presence were a weapon being drawn. "And you," she said, her voice colder than the void between stars.
Alexander froze, his bloodied face twisting in disbelief. The abductees beside him shrank under the intensity of her gaze, one of them pressing the makeshift bandage harder against his brow as though trying to disappear into the stone floor. Alexander's lips parted, but no sound came, his body trembling as Altaris's words pierced through him.
"You dared to interrupt me," Altaris said, each word a dagger. Her crystalline eyes burned with a sharp, dangerous light. "You spoke as if my attention was yours to command, as if your presence alone was enough to demand respect. I allowed it." She paused, her tone turning razor-sharp. "I allowed it because I believed, perhaps foolishly, that your arrogance might be justified. That your strength might earn the indulgence I extended to you. And yet here you are."
The room seemed to grow colder, the edges of Altaris's presence cutting deeper into the minds of all who listened. Alexander's hands curled into fists against the stone floor, his defiance flickering like a candle about to be extinguished.
"Your performance was hollow," Altaris continued, her voice rising like a crescendo of shattering glass. "A shell of strength, brittle and empty. You fought as though brute force alone could carry you, but brute force without reflection is meaningless. Your arrogance has no foundation. Your defiance, no justification. You came into this chamber boasting of victories not yet earned, demanding a respect you had no right to claim. And now you have proven, beyond doubt, that you are unworthy of even the patience we extended to you."
The light refracted through Altaris's form grew sharper still, casting jagged beams across the chamber that seemed to slice through the air. "Had I known then what I know now," she said, her voice cutting through Alexander's thoughts like a blade, "I would have silenced you before you uttered a single word. You would not have been allowed to stand before us, let alone disgrace this chamber with your failure. Your existence is an insult, Alexander—a blight on the sanctity of the Valcrys."
Alexander's chest heaved as he struggled to contain his frustration, his disbelief giving way to the bitter sting of humiliation. He glanced toward Kosmo, his face a mixture of rage and desperation, but the kneeling fighter did not move.
Altaris's voice softened slightly, though her tone remained cold and cutting. "Kosmo," she said, turning her gaze back to him. "You have shown composure and focus, qualities that must be perfected if you are to endure the Valcrys. But do not mistake discipline for perfection. Hesitation is a crack in the crystal—a flaw that spreads, fracturing everything it touches. In the Valcrys, there is no tolerance for flaws."
Kosmo exhaled quietly, the motion subtle but deliberate. He remained kneeling, his posture steady despite the strain of her words. He understood the gravity of her critique, the weight of her expectations pressing down on him like a blade held just above his neck.
Altaris straightened, her crystalline patterns shimmering as she stepped back into the line of the Twelve. The light refracted through her form faded slightly, but the jagged edges of her presence remained, cutting into the minds of all who had heard her words. "Discipline without decisiveness is weakness," she concluded, her voice clear and final. "Arrogance without strength is rot. Remember this, Kosmo. Remember this, Alexander. For the Valcrys demands not just strength but perfection."
The chamber seemed to hold its breath as Altaris's voice faded, the cold echo of her judgment lingering in the air like frost. Kosmo remained kneeling, his head bowed, his silence a mark of understanding. Alexander slumped further against the abductees assisting him, his face pale and bloodied, his disbelief now giving way to bitter humiliation.
Altaris's brilliance dimmed as she returned to her place among the Twelve, her critique complete. The voices of the other Sovereigns began to rise, their layered tones weaving seamlessly into the next wave of judgment.