Genius Noble With System
Chapter 380: Clash

Chapter 380: Clash

The air thickened in the banquet hall, dense like molten lead as their auras clashed. Space itself trembled slightly, as though the tension between the two entities was too much for the real world to bear. Candles flickered violently, goblets of wine shook, and many of the assembled elites had trouble breathing.

Like a wave of void energy intended to smother all light, the cloaked leader’s abyssal aura surged upward. He was like a spiritual black hole trying to destroy Apollo’s will and obliterate him through sheer force.

But Apollo stood unmoved.

If the leader’s aura was a black hole, then Apollo’s was a celestial blade suspended in eternity—silent, honed, peerless. It didn’t expand. It didn’t explode. It simply existed, and in that existence alone, it cut through all falsehoods.

Crack.

A small fracture appeared beneath their feet—not from impact, but from pressure. The floor, reinforced by divine runes, began to splinter. Behind Apollo, his guardian shifted slightly, one hand resting calmly on the hilt of his sword, ready to act if needed.

Emperor Darius’s fingers tightened slightly around the edge of his throne. The guards posted along the edges of the hall looked ready to intervene, but no one dared to move. Not when power of this level was in play.

The cloaked leader’s voice deepened, low and sharp like the grinding of stone. "It seemed you had something to back your words."

Although he was confident in his strength, he was surprised, as it seemed his power didn’t affect Apollo at all. It may seem like just a simple aura clash, but his eyes contain soul-devouring power, which can even affect a true god with a single look, and yet it didn’t do anything.

Apollo didn’t answer his words. Instead, he took a slow step forward. Just one.

Crack!

Another rupture echoed beneath his foot. The divine runes woven into the floor flickered erratically, destabilised not by direct force—but by the rejection of a greater presence that couldn’t be contained within their structure.

A few ancient race elders among the crowd narrowed their eyes, their expressions grave.

One of them muttered, "...He’s no ordinary person. That soul resistance and ethereal aura—what kind of inheritance does he carry?"

Apollo’s aura continued to rise, and it steadily started to push back the cloaked leader.

"What!" he was shocked as the ethereal, sharp like a sword, cut through his power. His thoughts changed immediately, as for the first time he felt the mysterious power within seemed to meet his match; even he had a ridiculous thought of it seeming to be a bit afraid.

The cloaked leader gritted his teeth. The shadows writhing around him started to condense, forming strange glyphs and sigils in the air — signs of soul origin manipulation. But even as he did this, his eyes couldn’t leave Apollo.

That kind of aura... It’s not supposed to exist on Rion. How is he able to show such strength in the peak void god realm?

Apollo’s presence changed again.

It became sharp, controlled, and terrifyingly absolute.

In that instant, many Void Gods felt their knees buckle. Even though the pressure wasn’t directed at them, their souls screamed in warning.

Even the other four cloaked figures behind their leader began subtly shifting their stances, silently preparing for confrontation. One of them even whispered something, but their leader held up a hand.

"Stop." His voice was tight.

He stared at Apollo. For a long breath, the entire banquet hall held still. And then silently he dispersed his aura. Seeing this, Apollo also stopped.

The moment the cloaked leader dispersed his aura, a suffocating weight lifted from the hall like storm clouds retreating after a violent clash. The gathered Void Gods, Saints, and hidden powerhouses all exhaled in quiet relief — some trembling, some drenched in cold sweat.

Even some leaders and ancestors who were proud of their strength were humbled, as just a simple aura clash made them lose their will to battle.

Even the ancient races — many of whom had come expecting to exert their dominance over the current power structure — grew quiet.

Some were watching Apollo with new interest, some with wariness. A few with fear.

As for Apollo himself... he returned to his seat with calm grace, as if nothing had happened. But that calm was deliberate. Inside, his mind remained alert.

’That weird power is definitely the unknown power that seems to not belong to the three universes, although it was way weaker than what he felt in the sanctum.’

He glanced at the cloaked leader, who now stood off to the side like a quiet monarch who had lost his throne. Though composed, the man’s breathing had subtly changed. Slower. Heavier.

"Who are you? Which ancient hidden race did you come from?" The cloaked leader asked in a hoarse voice filled with anger as Apollo seemed to have destroyed his majesty that he wanted to create in front of the leaders of the western continent.

Apollo didn’t answer right away.

He merely raised his goblet, sipping calmly as if the question had been nothing more than idle chatter — not the demand of a furious Void God.

Only after placing the cup down did he finally speak, his tone unhurried and faintly laced with amusement.

"I didn’t come here to entertain your delusions of grandeur. Showing off like you were some big shot, but from what I just saw, it seems like nothing," he said with a smile, like he was teasing.

The cloaked leader’s face twisted. Though still hidden in shadow, the fury beneath his cowl was palpable. His pitch-black eyes, swirling like miniature abysses, trembled faintly, as though something inside was threatening to burst out.

Apollo didn’t flinch.

"But if you insist..." He added, eyes narrowing just slightly, voice low and steady, "Then listen closely."

His spiritual power surged briefly — not violently, but sharply, like a blade drawn an inch from its sheath. Everyone in the hall felt it pierce through the air.

"My name is Apollo. From the Eastern Continent, yes. But I am not from any ’ancient hidden race’, you know."

He leaned back again, eyes steady, voice colder now.

"As for who I am? I am the one you little rats shouldn’t mess with."