Chapter 118 – THE HISTORY OF THE KING OF DRIFTERS
The endless white halls grew silent again, but this time, Lare's smile carried weight. He raised his hand, and the air shimmered. Images formed in the void—visions from a century ago.
A lone warrior stood against mountains of beasts, his blade cutting arcs of lightning through the battlefield. Armies of Arcane Generals fell before him, their monstrous bodies sealed in chains of unbreakable light. The figure stood tall, unyielding, his aura unmatched.
"That man…" Shen whispered.
Lare's voice was low, almost reverent. "A hundred years ago, there was one Drifter who surpassed all others. He defeated the Arcanes' strongest and sealed away their generals. They called him… the Drifter of Kings."
The vision flickered, fading back into the castle's emptiness. Lare placed a hand on his chest. "That soul… was me. I am Lare, the King of Drifters."
Shen's eyes narrowed. "So it was you… the legend."
Lare smirked. "Legend, title, myth—it doesn't matter. All that matters is strength. Tell me… does the world still whisper that title?"
Shen hesitated for a moment, then nodded firmly. "Yes. That title still exists. In fact… it has been passed on to me."
The Fairy King's laughter burst through the chamber, echoing like thunder. "Hah! To you? So the world crowns you in my place?" His grin sharpened, mocking. "What a shame… that the name of the King of Drifters fell into your hands."
Shen stepped forward, aura flaring. "Don't underestimate me. I earned that title with my own blood and battles."
But Lare only laughed harder, shaking his head. "Then show me, little king. Show me whether you carry it with pride… or whether the crown rots in your hands."
The castle trembled as the two stared each other down, the weight of past and present colliding in that endless void.
To be continued…