"Stop talking nonsense—what do you mean, trees growing on your grave!" Muria, completely shedding his kingly dignity, sat beside Abigail and gave him a playful slap on the head after hearing his son's self-deprecating and gloomy comment.
"But you're the strongest being in the world, aren't you? Your lifespan is limitless. Meanwhile, I… I'll die one day." Abigail spoke casually about death, his face calm and unperturbed.
Except for a select few, most beings are destined to die at some point in the future. It's an inevitable reality. Even those who claim to be eternal will eventually face an end—though mortals may never witness it.
"That's true. In this world, I am the strongest. But you're my son, and the same blood flows in your veins. You can achieve what I've achieved, and perhaps even surpass me," Muria said with certainty.
"I can become as strong as you?" Abigail asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Of course. If you're willing to work hard at your cultivation, you'll eventually become as strong as I am. That is a fact," Muria replied with confidence.
"How hard would I need to work?" Abigail leaned in slightly, intrigued. The pursuit of strength was a natural instinct for every being, and Abigail was no exception. However, his drive was far less intense than that of those born into humble circumstances.
Ordinary people often pursue power to secure better lives, attract better partners, or gain more authority. But Abigail was born into privilege, with all these things handed to him at birth. For him, the pursuit of strength was driven by curiosity, or perhaps a desire to compete with others who had something he lacked.
"Just set aside a certain amount of time each day for training. Your talent surpasses mine when I was your age. If you stick to it, you'll grow stronger at an incredible pace."
"Every day?" Abigail's expression instantly changed.
"Cultivation is a process of accumulation. It requires daily effort and consistency," Muria said firmly.
"I'd rather sleep," Abigail said, shaking his head. To him, cultivation was boring and monotonous. Practicing occasionally was fine, but the idea of doing it every single day felt like torture.
Born at the pinnacle of the world, Abigail felt no sense of urgency or danger. He was unaware of the vastness of the Void beyond his world. To him, the world was all there was. He had never contemplated what lay beyond.
In his world, his parents were the ultimate beings, and he was born at the very summit of power and privilege. He lacked the drive to struggle and strive, as effort couldn't bring him anything he didn't already have. He could live a hedonistic life, indulging in the finest resources the world had to offer.
"Sleep? Your time isn't meant to be wasted like that. As my son, you have responsibilities to bear," Muria said, realizing for the first time that his approach to educating Abigail might have been too lax.
Muria typically took a hands-off approach to raising his children, intervening only to point them in the right direction. He allowed them to make their own choices without interference.
The child he had influenced the most was his eldest son, Aeolos. Muria had been deeply involved in every aspect of Aeolos's upbringing. But once Aeolos broke through to legendary status, Muria had immediately stepped back, leaving him to his own devices.
However, with Abigail, Muria realized he had been too permissive. The boy was so laid-back that he hadn't even developed the habit of daily training.
"But you're here. What do I need to do?" Abigail said nonchalantly.
"Me?" Muria paused, caught off guard. Then he understood why Abigail had become so complacent—the root of the issue lay with him.
"As I've said before, I won't always be here. One day, you'll have to take on everything I leave behind, whether you're ready or not," Muria said, his tone firm.
"Father… what are you planning to do?" Abigail, finally sensing that something was amiss, grew uneasy. His father had mentioned leaving twice already, which was highly unusual.
"I'm leaving," Muria said, his gaze heavy as he looked at the black-haired boy. He smiled faintly.
"Leaving? Where are you going?" Abigail's face filled with panic. The sudden revelation stunned him. He was completely unprepared for such earth-shattering news.
"Focus on your cultivation. When I leave, I hope you'll be ready to take on everything I leave behind." Muria didn't directly answer Abigail's question. Standing under the radiant sunlight, his body turned into a mist that rose and dissipated into the sky.
"Father, where are you going?!" Abigail shouted in panic. He rushed into the palace complex, desperate for answers.
But soon, Abigail was faced with a crushing realization: no matter how many people he asked or how many halls he searched, he couldn't find his father.
With Muria's terrifying power, when he didn't want to be found, there was nothing Abigail could do.
"Mother." Abigail quickly thought of another person who might have answers: Mikaela. But when he tried to find her, he encountered the same result. No matter how hard he searched, she was nowhere to be found.
It was an infuriating and helpless reality. He knew his parents were still in the palace complex, yet he couldn't locate them.
…
"After all these years of neglect, you say a few words to him, and now he's running around like a headless chicken. You really know how to stir things up," Mikaela said, rolling her eyes at Muria as they watched the scene through a water mirror. Abigail was frantically searching the palace grounds, his behavior resembling that of a desperate fly.
"It's not stirring things up. It's giving him some pressure. How else is he going to become a king in his current state? I've been far too lenient in educating him," Muria defended himself.
"Don't you think this is too harsh for him?" Mikaela asked, her voice softening as she saw Abigail's tear-streaked, red-eyed face in the mirror. Despite everything, he was still her son.
"It's not about being harsh. If he continues his lazy, carefree ways and ascends to the throne like this, it would be far more cruel to the citizens of the empire," Muria said resolutely.
…
What would you do if, in your early teens, you suddenly learned that your parents planned to leave you someday? Others might react differently, but for Abigail, the revelation was nearly maddening.
He couldn't accept it. He desperately wanted to find Muria to confront him, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't.
That conversation with Muria drove Abigail to pour his energy into cultivation. He realized that only by becoming stronger could he possibly meet his father again.
Under the weight of this newfound pressure, Abigail began training daily. With access to the world's best cultivation resources and his extraordinary talent, his progress was astonishing—what others might achieve in years, he accomplished in mere days.
As he grew stronger, Abigail discovered that his assumptions were correct. Each time he awakened, he was granted a brief meeting with his father. But that was all it was—brief.
Every encounter ended in disappointment. He couldn't control how long the meetings lasted. The only certainty was that, one day, his parents would leave him.
Why were they leaving? Where were they going? What would they do? Abigail had no answers. Whenever he asked, his father responded only with a knowing smile.
"I'll get the answers. I'll find out everything." Fueled by this determination, Abigail threw himself into his cultivation. He was tired of their conversations being cut short by his father's overwhelming power.
He realized the only way to prevent this from happening again was to become strong enough. When he had enough strength, his father wouldn't be able to dismiss him so easily.
…
"Hahahaha!" Abigail's laughter rang out as fiery red flames shot skyward from a grand palace, painting half the sky with a sea of fire.
But the fire quickly subsided, replaced by a roaring gale that formed a massive, visible tornado above the palace grounds. Startled cries erupted from the palace attendants.
Before long, the tornado dissipated, and the ground began to tremble. One after another, grand phenomena unfolded over the Seraphic Empire's capital, shaking the world to its core.
This was the center of the world. Even the smallest change here would ripple outward, growing into a storm in the farthest reaches.
Abigail didn't care about the world's reaction to his breakthrough. His mind was focused on one thing:
"Father, this time we'll have a proper talk. After ten awakenings, I refuse to believe you can still toss me out like before."
Excited, the young man barged into his parents' private chambers. The empty room stopped him in his tracks. His smile faded, replaced by a growing silence.
"Where… are they?" Abigail muttered, his expression turning despondent. He remembered that every time he'd broken through before, he had always found his parents here.
"Father, I've broken through! Come out and see me!" he shouted, his voice tinged with desperation.
A hollow, expanding void filled his heart as he realized what had happened. The thing he'd feared most had come to pass. Today, at this very moment, his parents were gone.
"Why won't you come out to see me?!"
Abigail stormed out of the palace, rising into the air. His immense spiritual power, now unmatched in the world, swept across the entire capital.
______
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