All Amane could do now was guard Lord Oakes' homeland with utmost care, hoping that one day Oakes might put in a good word before Lord Locke and lift the punishment placed upon the Golden Turtle Tribe.
Of the divine-level experts from the Golden Turtle Tribe who had been sentenced to fifty thousand years of bandit suppression, only three had survived.
After their sentence ended, none of them returned to the tribe. Instead, they registered as Fiends in the Fiend Castle, taking on missions to earn resources for the younger generation, continuing to protect the tribe in their own way—atoning for the sins of their past.
"Father, my thousandth birthday has already passed. When are we leaving?"
At the young boy's question, Amane's heart trembled.
Had he failed in his hospitality? Was that why Figroa no longer wished to stay in Blackstone City?
"Young Master Figroa, there are still many interesting places in Blackstone City. Would you like me to take you around again?"
Amane forced a smile, careful and deferential.
If Lord Oakes left now, who knew when he would return? Tens of thousands of years? Perhaps longer. If not for this place being their homeland, Amane even suspected they might one day forget it entirely.
"Hey, I'm talking to my father. Why are you interrupting?"
Figroa shot Amane an annoyed glance, his tone full of disdain.
"My apologies, Young Master. I overstepped."
"Roia, how can you speak to Amane like that?"
Yagonia frowned, her voice turning cold.
"Amane is your father's subordinate. He has guarded our homeland for years with loyalty and diligence. If you continue to treat him this way, I may leave you here to serve under him."
"Mother, please don't! I was wrong."
Figroa's expression changed instantly. He hurriedly bowed.
"I'm sorry, Lord Amane. I spoke out of line."
"No, no, Young Master, there's no need…"
"Accept it," Oakes said calmly. "This apology is long overdue."
He then sighed softly.
"We've spoiled him too much. That's why I brought him out—to see the world, to correct his temperament. Otherwise, one day he might die outside without even knowing how."
"Father, you're underestimating yourself," Figroa scoffed. "You're the Prefect of Shadowmoon Prefecture. Who would dare touch me? Who could kill me?"
The moment those words left his mouth—
Boom!
An overwhelming pressure descended.
All four were slammed to the ground, unable to move.
"A bold one, aren't you?"
A calm voice sounded.
"People like you… I don't see often."
Oakes, Yagonia, and Amane immediately stopped struggling. They lay still, not daring to resist.
Figroa, however, felt a presence appear before him. Someone crouched down, gripping his chin and forcing him to look up.
"I thought someone this arrogant might at least have some strength."
"But you're just… useless."
"W-Who are you? What do you want?!"
"Hm? Did you forget what you just said?"
"Who could kill you? Who would dare?"
"Well, here I am."
Locke smiled faintly.
"I can kill you. And I dare to."
Truthfully, he hadn't expected Oakes' child to be such a textbook spoiled brat.
If not for overhearing Oakes and Yagonia's intention to correct the boy, Locke might have reconsidered Oakes' place entirely.
"You… how dare you?!"
Fear flashed through Figroa's eyes, but he still tried to bluff.
"My father is Oakes, Prefect of Shadowmoon! If you hurt me, he won't let you go!"
"Adorable."
Locke tilted his head slightly.
"Did you forget something?"
Crack.
He twisted Figroa's neck just enough to force his gaze toward the others.
"Look closely. Isn't that your father lying there?"
"If I dare kill you, why would I fear him?"
He paused, then added thoughtfully,
"Actually… you've reminded me of something."
"Your father isn't weak. If he grows stronger, he might become troublesome."
"Perhaps I should just kill all three of you."
"See? I'm merciful. I'd let your family accompany you."
Figroa's mind went blank.
The father he had always seen as invincible… was lying there, unable to even lift a finger.
And the pain at his neck told him this was no dream.
Because of one arrogant sentence… he had brought death upon his entire family.
"So… it's true…"
"There are people stronger than Father…"
Terror flooded his heart.
"Please… spare me…"
"Spare you?"
Locke leaned closer, eyes locking onto his.
"You were quite bold just now. I'm only fulfilling your request."
"And how selfish you are. You only ask me to spare you—what about your parents?"
Figroa broke down.
"I'm sorry! I was wrong!"
He choked on his tears.
"Please… kill me instead. Let my parents go. They don't even care much about me—they won't seek revenge…"
"Hmm."
Locke released his grip, exhaling quietly.
"At least you're not completely rotten."
Then he shook his head.
"But I can't take that risk."
"You may be nothing, but your father isn't. If he ever takes revenge on my people, I'd lose more than I gain."
He rubbed his chin, pretending to think—then snapped his fingers.
"Got it."
Killing you is trivial. But keeping you alive… might be useful."
He turned to Oakes.
"Oakes, Prefect of Shadowmoon. I've heard of you."
"You're decent among prefects."
"Your son's life is in my hands. If you want to save him—swear loyalty to me."
"You'll lose your freedom… but keep your family."
"No! Father, don't—"
"Silence."
Oakes cut him off, then knelt without hesitation.
"This one, Oakes, greets my lord. From this day forward, I shall obey all your commands without fail."
"Good."
Locke smiled, patting Figroa's head.
"See that? Strength rules this world."
"When no one stronger exists, you can act however you like."
"But the moment someone stronger appears… your actions become the reason your father suffers."
He straightened.
"You've given me a capable subordinate. I'll spare you—for his sake."
"Next time we meet, I hope you'll be… more interesting."
With that, Locke vanished.
—
In the aftermath, Figroa collapsed, weeping as he apologized to his parents.
Watching from afar, Locke sighed softly.
Once… he too had family.
Parents. A brother.
But years of secluded cultivation had cost him those bonds. His parents had passed without him there. His relationship with his brother had fractured beyond repair.
Even now, he had never returned.
"…Perhaps it's time."
With his new soul-refinement technique complete, a thought surfaced.
He would go back.
Just once.
Though after two million years…
He didn't know if anything remained.
—
Inside Blackstone City's lord's residence, Oakes bowed respectfully.
"Lord Locke, thank you for your guidance today."
To him, the "oath of loyalty" had merely been part of the lesson.
After all—
He had always belonged to Locke.
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