Getting a Technology System in Modern Day

To say Aron was surprised would be the understatement of the gigaannum. The announcement had obliterated every scenario he had meticulously crafted in his mind. In all his time spent in simulations, preparing for countless contingencies, not once had he considered the possibility of the Xor’Vaks surrendering—least of all without a fight.

Their pride in their strength was legendary, surpassing even the vaunted arrogance of the Valthorins. For a race that reveled in their dominance, surrendering, especially on such a grand stage, was unthinkable. This sudden reversal of expectations hit him with such force that he could practically feel the metaphorical veins in his temple throbbing from the sheer shock of it all.

The audience’s collective astonishment mirrored his own, but none felt it as acutely as Aron, whose carefully laid strategies now seemed almost laughably over-prepared in the face of this unanticipated twist.

The largest part of Aron's shock wasn’t just the surrender itself but the colossal implications that came with it. According to the terms of the agreement, any victory—whether through combat or a surrender—granted the empire rights over both the defeated fighter's equipment and their remains.

In this case, the surrender meant something far more extraordinary: Princess Seraphina, a member of the Xor’Vak royal lineage, had, by the rules of the accord, officially become Aron's property.

Seraphina.

A princess.

A Xor’Vak princess.

A warrior of her stature and status, now bound by the very conditions that her people had agreed to, was effectively his possession.

Furthermore, the implications of the surrender extended far beyond just the physical assets. With this victory, the Terran Empire would not only gain access to the advanced knowledge of the Xor’Vak, but they would also hold a direct path to challenge the Xor’Vak leader for his position of leadership of the Xor’Vak civilization. This stipulation had been a crucial part of the agreement that Aron had wanted during the negotiation period, ensuring that the empire would have the opportunity to potentially seize control of the Xor’Vak’s civilizations in its entirety.

Nova swiftly intervened, activating the necessary protocols to calm Aron’s mind. She prompted his brain to release calming hormones, gradually restoring his focus and helping him regain composure. The sudden rush of surprise could not be allowed to derail him. Instead of remaining caught in the shock of the moment, Aron needed to redirect his attention to the immediate task at hand—the consequences of this unprecedented surrender and how to move forward.

"So their leader's power has this much control?" Aron thought to himself, now fully calm. He could tell from Seraphina's tone and her words that the decision to surrender wasn’t hers to make. It was an order from the Grand Elder, their leader, one she could not dare to deny.

Even her earlier display of intimidation—her dramatic entrance into the Arena, the forceful landing, and the use of her tail to create a menacing presence—had been nothing more than an expression of her frustration at the order she had no choice but to follow. It was clear now that her outward aggression was more about trying to assert her own defiance against a higher power than anything personal toward him.

"But why?" The question echoed in Aron’s mind as he tried to make sense of the situation. Why would the leader of the Xor’Vak, a race known for its pride, force their prized princess to surrender and become someone else's property? This was unprecedented, the first time a Xor’Vak had ever been subjected to another race’s control. It made no logical sense.

{It is either because they are sincerely apologizing for their arrogance toward someone worthy of their acknowledgment, or the more likely scenario: politics. The Grand Elder may have seen this as a way to rid themselves of her. You'll get your answers later, but for now, you must respond to her statement,} Nova’s voice interrupted his thoughts, reminding him that his initial reaction—his shocked "WHAT?!!!"—wasn’t enough. He had to address the situation calmly and directly.

“Oh yeah, there is that,” Aron muttered, using his imaginary hand to slap his forehead in mock realization. He then refocused on Seraphina, whose eyes were filled with expectation, waiting for him to respond.

Thanks to Nova’s perception acceleration, only a fraction of a second had passed since his initial shock. But Aron could see the unmistakable look in her eyes—the one that hinted at her belief that he would deny her surrender, likely out of pride.

Aron had the option to deny the surrender since it had been made before the official start of the fight, and it was clear that this was the last thread of hope Seraphina was holding onto. If he rejected the surrender, she would have no choice but to fight on, as rejecting it would effectively give her a way out of her leader’s orders—an escape she prayed to get. If he accepted it, however, she would be bound to honor her surrender, unable to defy the directive any further.

Despite the massive dragon form she took and the fierce display she had put on, the look on her face left no doubt. She was hoping he’d reject the surrender, allowing the fight to continue. Aron, however, had already made up his mind.

“I have to disappoint your expectations,” Aron thought to himself, a firm resolve settling in his chest. “I can’t give up such an easy out. Besides, with this change, I’ve already modified my plans, and they require you to be on my side.”

With that, he finally spoke aloud, meeting her gaze with calm assurance.

“I accept your surrender and express my thanks to your Grand Elder.”

Seraphina, hearing his response, reacted as if struck by a sledgehammer. The weight of his words hit her hard, yet she wasn’t given time to process her emotions. In an instant, the Arena erupted in a breathtaking fireworks display, signaling the end of a day that would be etched in the memories of all present for the rest of their lives.

The fireworks display was a clear signal that the day had come to an end, marking the conclusion of a one-sided beatdown delivered by Emperor Aron Michael of the Terra Empire. The referee AI reinforced this message by projecting holograms of Aron in various fights, though the visuals were brief—many of his matches had lasted less than ten minutes, with some concluding in mere seconds. To fill the gaps, some holograms were looped.

The fight had ended, and with it, Aron had firmly etched his image into the minds of everyone present. His dominance, undeniable and overwhelming, would not be forgotten anytime soon.

Despite the spectacle of individual battles, this was still a war, albeit one scaled down to personal duels. The outcome of each fight carried far-reaching implications, and as such, it needed to be treated with the gravity of an ongoing conflict. With the day’s events concluded, the next steps would soon unfold, setting the stage for what was to come.