Adam looked straight through the white-haired boy.
A sword was embedded in the boy's side, yet his body radiated a pure, blinding aura.
"I really do hate it," Adam said quietly, almost tired, "when someone wants to test me."
Far above—ten thousand meters above the audience hall—a blue-haired woman raised her hands. Chimes of bells rang out, and a low melody of humming strings vibrated through the air, resonating deep within the plexus of the world itself.
"Who are you, outsider?" her voice echoed.
"Who has come here?"
The knight seeing the black ring at the center of the chamber, a knight stood trembling with livid fury. His white eyes slowly closed, and with a heavy breath, he began to walk forward.
Clank.
Crack.
Each step of his armor fractured the ground beneath him. Moving rhytimically like a pure knight.
In his mind, memories burned.
His father had failed to protect the kingdom. Yet even then—even then—he would never have given that ring to anyone. It was a promise. A promise bound to his mother. A promise that spanned centuries.
Two hundred years had passed.
And now this unknown being stood before him.
A being whose power he could not measure.
Greed, the knight thought. Power.
That had to be the reason. It had to be.
Not even his father's soul—his Soul Power—would have satisfied the greed of a man like this. How great must he be?
And yet…
How could Father have fallen…?
A hollowed scream tore through the knight's chest.
Suddenly, Adam's eyes widened.
Twin blades—each twice his height—erupted into existence and fired toward his sides. Hundreds followed in an instant.
Adam vanished.
"Wait a minute—!"
The knight crossed the distance faster than thought—faster than sound multiplied a hundredfold—and slashed.
Adam barely escaped.
Rehan accelerated his processing speed to its absolute limit. Adam dodged, again and again, slipping between endless strikes that burned like white light itself. He teleported, reappeared, vanished—only for slashes of rainbow-colored energy, each the size of houses, to crash toward him by the hundreds.
Annoyed, Adam snapped his hand outward.
A blue chain manifested, wrapping around space itself, preventing the knight from escaping.
The knight retaliated with terrifying precision, firing a massive yellow beam—far denser than Yuruki's plasma—straight into the chain.
It held.
Then, with a single ability, the knight phased—his body slipping partially out of the world, as though reality no longer acknowledged him. He reappeared instantly, hand raised—
—and grabbed Adam.
Adam's expression twisted.
"How dare—"
What Adam hated most was control.
Telekinetic force crushed down on him. Space tightened. Authority tried to claim his body.
Adam shattered it.
"It's hard to take it easy," he muttered, teleporting instantly in front of the knight, "when you're this powerful."
For a fraction of a second, Knight saw it.
A flash of foresight.
Death.
He swung.
A punch faster than light itself—yet the knight phased out of his own body at the exact instant of impact.
Adam overextended, barely stopping himself from striking the ground. Sweat rolled down his face.
Side kicks. Instant.
Punches. Instant.
Adam smiled.
He hadn't felt this thrill since that guy.
Only the knight's foresight kept him alive—phasing away before Adam could complete an instant-kill strike.
"I can't believe this…" the knight thought.
Every attack was death itself.
This is what Father faced…?
No matter how many centuries he lived, no matter how much power he gathered—he would never reach that height.
I am… worthless.
He dodged endlessly, phasing through blows that would erase existence.
Adam stopped smiling.
"Have enough yet?"
The knight hesitated.
For the first time, he truly understood he was going to lose.
"I never got him… to be truly proud of me…"
Fifteen years ago.
The knight was six.
He hovered before a training dummy, striking it again and again with a wooden sword. His hands bled. He didn't stop.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Then a hand rested gently on his palm.
The pain vanished.
"Enough."
His father knelt, patting his head—not like a king, but like a parent.
"I am proud of you," he said.
"And you will be truly great… even surpassing me."
His father stood like a statue.
Unreachable.
Those words had sounded impossible then.
Years passed.
War came.
At eighteen, the knight believed he would finally prove himself—achieve great deeds worthy of the court.
But his father stopped him at the entrance.
Officials stared with disdain.
The hall fell silent beneath crushing pressure.
They walked together through the corridor. The floor gleamed beneath their steps.
His father—shorter now, somehow—walked ahead of him.
"Son," he said softly, "you will be great. Do not doubt yourself. You are too immature now… but wait."
Footsteps echoed.
"You are special. Many souls stand beneath you, but numbers do not make greatness. Destiny does. Not everyone is given that chance."
Then he walked on.
The present shattered back into place.
Adam floated slightly above the ground, his sword overflowing with blue, radiant light. His helmet burned with yellow flame.
The ground beneath them melted.
"Are you alright?" Adam asked.
Hundreds of lasers erupted.
Rehan pushed Adam to his limit—barely dodging.
The knight teleported in, clashing blades. Faster. Faster. Faster—beyond sight.
Teleportation. Phasing. Slashing.
Cuts appeared across Adam's body.
Adam lunged—missed.
Light rays detonated. Energy slashes the size of mountains tore through the sanctuary, expanding outward.
The knight's eyes turned fully luminescent.
Golden rings formed around Adam, attempting to seal him.
Adam broke them effortlessly.
His patience ended.
He grabbed the knight and slammed him into the ground with force capable of killing any living being.
"Can we stop this?"
A radiant slash severed Adam's fingers.
They regenerated instantly.
Adam stared, surprised.
I can be hurt…?
...
What happened
The air shifted.
The blue-haired woman descended slowly.
"Enough," she said calmly. "Thank you, Adam."
Adam frowned.
"Thank me… for what?"
She bowed slightly.
"For helping him ascend."
Adam blinked.
"Huh?" I crossed my arms slowly.
The cut on my fingers still hadn't healed. As rehan look's at it and made a duplicate of my finger and cut and paste it... As if nothing was cut
Being hurt..That alone irritated me.
My eyes narrowed, annoyance sharpening into something colder as I looked at her—at how deliberately calm she was. How carefully measured every word felt. Manipulative. Disgustingly so.
The knight lay on the ground behind her, his wounds already closing under her light as she knelt beside him, one hand resting gently against his chest.
"I will find a way," she said calmly, without looking at me, "to connect this world to the world you were speaking of, Adam."
Her voice was smooth. Assured.
Then she finally turned her gaze toward me.
"But I want something in return."
She smiled.
Her eyes narrowed—not kindly, not warmly—but with intention.
"Please."
I tilted my head slightly.
"Hmmm?"
She stood, placing herself fully between me and the knight.
"I want you to take my child," she said.
The words were precise. Surgical.
"I want him to learn how powerless he truly is. To understand what it means to not be destined. To experience what it is like to be nothing."
Her smile widened just enough to be unsettling.
"So that he may learn," she continued softly, "what it truly means to be a king."
Silence hung heavy.
I stared at her for a long moment.
Then—
"That's a grown child, ma'am."