Thank you for the clear structure and material. Below is your refined version of the Lona Tournament and Prince Battle scene, with elevated language, enhanced emotional weight, and professional pacing—all while strictly preserving the order of events and every scene detail you gave:
Chapter Title: Peak Entertainment
"What is your name?" the prince asked, towering above Lona, his gaze cold, curious, and unblinking.
Lona stood firm, eyes unwavering as she looked up at him.
"I asked you a question," he repeated, voice edged with authority.
"...Lona," she answered calmly. "My name is Lona."
The prince's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "Lona... you are quite the enigma. You've piqued my interest. Over 500 souls—erased, devoured. You would have killed them all eventually, but you did it so... swiftly. A shame I wasn't there to witness it."
He clapped his hands once. "No matter. I have a feeling you'll deliver peak entertainment." He turned, raising his voice. "With that, let the tournament begin!"
A thundering gate opened. Twenty champions strode into the arena—grizzled, scarred, silent.
"Another bloodbath! How tingly my nose is getting. Let the competition begin!" the prince shouted gleefully. "This is your final match, little ones. Give me a show. Only the last one standing earns the right to face me."
The signal was given.
The clash began instantly—chaos erupting in the pit. One soul sprinted toward Lona without hesitation.
She stood still, unfazed, eyes half-lidded with disinterest. Weak, she thought.
Raising a hand, she summoned her skill. "Devour."
But nothing happened.
Her eyes narrowed. This soul resisted her ability.
These were not fledgling spirits. They were battle-hardened survivors. Some had crawled through a thousand fights, emerging victorious again and again. The system was brutal—trillions of chambers, billions of souls, and in every room, only one emerged alive.
Now, Lona stood among the final twenty.
Her punches landed like whispers. Their strength dwarfed her own.
A voice called out mockingly, "Not fair! Why does she get clothes?" They pointed at the shadows cloaking her body—her only armor.
Lona quickly shifted tactics. She couldn't face them head-on. She needed strategy.
Let them wear themselves out... then strike.
She darted between fighters, avoiding attacks. Shadowy limbs grew from the arena walls, lifting her above the chaos.
"I need elevation to track the weak," she muttered, her smoky creations anchoring her to the wall.
From above, she scanned the battle—but progress was slow. No one was falling. She scowled, then wove more shadow-hands across the ground. Some fighters were caught mid-strike.
"What the—?!" they gasped. None of them had skills. Only she did.
Those left standing wasted no time. They turned on the restrained, landing devastating blows. The arena grew bloodier by the second.
Then—there. One soul collapsed, nearly dead.
Lona dove.
"Devour!"
One down.
She leapt back to the wall.
Then again.
"Devour! Devour! Devour! Devour! Devour!"
Her movements were fluid, surgical. Strike, vanish, repeat.
"Devour! Devour! Devour! Devour!"
When the dust settled, only she remained.
A lone opponent faced her.
They circled, muscles tense, blood dripping onto the ground. Above, the prince watched, face lit with wild excitement.
"I knew it! Peeeeak... entertainment!" he shrieked.
The last fighter lunged—only to hear her final whisper:
"Devour."
Silence. And then, applause.
Only one opponent remained.
The prince.
"Get down here," Lona growled. "Let's end this."
The prince laughed maniacally. "I just had an orgasm from those words alone. You really know how to entertain this prince." He leapt from his throne, landing in the arena with a thud.
"Don't disappoint me. I'll use twenty percent of my strength," he said with a cruel grin.
Lona launched herself forward, fists blazing. He blocked every strike with one hand, smirking, amused.
She extended her shadow energy—molding it, shaping it. A beast emerged: a black elephant with glowing red eyes.
"Hahaha! I've seen scarier creatures in my sleep!" the prince mocked.
But then—it struck him. He stumbled.
His smile faltered.
"Not bad," he muttered, raising his power by ten percent. Now at thirty, still unable to destroy the elephant.
Irritated, he shouted, "Who said fights must be fair?!"
Power surged around him as he activated his full strength—one hundred percent.
He released a single strike.
Lona flew, rolling across the ground, her breath ripped from her lungs.
He walked over, towering above her limp form.
"Well... at least I didn't use my Soul Reaper skill. Demons—do with her as you please."
A horde of demons swarmed from the shadows—except one. The whip-wielding demon from earlier ran the opposite way, disappearing into a portal.
"Get in!" a voice called. Rolo. He had planted a spy demon in the prince's court. The portal shimmered behind him.
But Lona wasn't finished.
The demons made a fatal error—they had grown too confident.
"Cough... cough..." she groaned. Her eyes flickered. "Devour."
The wormhole behind her roared, growing larger than the black elephant. It consumed all of them.
The prince paused mid-step. His hand covered his face, hiding his irritation.
"You are now becoming a nuisance," he muttered.
Then her wormhole shifted—its color deepened, swirling with cosmic energy.
It became a darkhole.
she reconstructed another from her dark shadow energy, beast—a fusion of lion and buffalo, massive and monstrous.
But the prince—furious—slapped the air.
The beast shattered into smoke.
"You have my respect," he said. "Such willpower. But now... I'll use my Soul Reaper skill. Let's see what drives you."
He extended his hand.
"Skill: Optimum Illusion—Activate."
Lona collapsed to her knees.
Her eyes widened in horror. Her conjoined children—the twins—stood before her. Again. And again.
The chief murdered them—again. Again. Again.
"Ooh... so that's what that thing is. Your child? Disgusting. A freak of nature."
The prince laughed. "No matter how strong you become... you'll never save them. Death is written in stone."
He leaned close. "I won't kill you. No. This—this is far more enjoyable. You'll relive this forever."
His laughter echoed across the arena.
"Aaaaaaaah! Aaaaah! Please! Stop! I BEG YOU!" Lona screamed, rivers of tears streaming from her eyes.
But even broken, she searched—for a loophole, a flaw, a crack in the spell.
Wormholes. Darkholes. Pathways connecting galaxies. Tunnels through space. Some lead to nowhere. Others—to something older. those
Whom travel between galaxies and universes including those that travel through time, must be weary of being trapped.
In her despair, her darkhole pulsed.
It reached outward.
Across the multiverse.
To every wormhole.
To every darkhole.
Within them, beings—creatures trapped for eternity—sensed her call.
A voice rang out in her mind. "I can free them."
Lona spoke into the abyss:
"I want to make a deal. Lend me your power—and I will release you from eternal darkness."
A frenzy erupted.
"Pick me!"
"I've slain galaxies!"
"My strength is unmatched!"
"CHOOSE ME!"
Then—silence.
Her gaze fell on one figure. Still. Quiet.
Not begging.
She had human features, waist down a serpent's body, hair woven with snakes, and fangs like daggers.
"What is your name?" Lona asked.
"...My name is Medusi."
"Will you lend me your power, for freedom?"
Whispers burst from the void.
"Her?! She's the weakest!"
"A disgrace!"
"She has destroyed nothing!, how many galaxieshave you destroyed?"
Lona raised her voice. " You will all have a chance. So long as I live."
She extended her hand.
The pact was sealed.
A massive wave exploded outward, sending the prince crashing .
From its depths emerged hands. And behind them—
A monster unlike any he had ever seen.
The prince's face went pale.
"What... monstrosity... is this?"
[Devour : a skill that creates a wormhole and consumes other beings converting the into dark shadow energy, dark shadow energy is like a shadow that can be constructed to any form]