Chapter 22: Two Kings
"You keep misunderstanding this place." White's voice echoed softly across the endless black expanse. "This world does not belong to me."
"And it doesn't belong to you either."
Slowly, he raised a hand toward the hollow sun hanging high above them.
"The water. The dragon. The sun." His crimson eyes reflected the pale light overhead. "None of them kneel. None of them are ruled."
"They all simply exist."
The white dragon continued its silent orbit around half of the hollow sun, moving with slow, eternal precision.
"Like storms."
White lowered his hand and looked back toward Albion.
"The title of 'King' has nothing to do with this realm. King means only one thing."
"Who controls the body."
Albion's eyes narrowed faintly.
"The King is the one allowed to exist in reality," White continued. "The one who walks beneath the sky."
"The one who speaks with his own mouth."
"The one whose will becomes action."
A faint smile stretched across his stitched lips. "And only one of us can sit on that throne at a time."
The black water beneath them rippled softly.
"When you are King, the body belongs entirely to you. You decide where it goes. What it says. What it does."
"And me?" White lightly tapped his own chest. "I remain here."
"Watching and waiting."
"I can speak to you from the dark. I can challenge you. I can even drag you into this world."
His gaze sharpened. "But I cannot touch reality itself."
"Not while you sit on the throne."
For a brief moment, the black water around him rippled violently.
"But if I become King…" His smile widened slightly. "Everything changes."
"I become the one who walks in the outside world. The one who controls the body."
"And you…" White pointed directly at Albion.
"…become the observer."
"You would still exist. You would still think.
But no one would hear you."
"You would remain trapped here…"
"…exactly where I once was."
Albion's reflection trembled faintly beneath the moving black surface.
White watched it silently before continuing.
"This world is not a prison."
He looked around at the endless darkness.
"It is a meeting place. A throne room, to be more precise."
"Whenever one of us drags the other here, the body outside becomes still."
Then he pointed upward once more. "Even the sky reflects the balance between us."
Albion followed his gaze.
The dragon.
The hollow sun.
The unseen presence moving along the opposite half of the orbit.
"The dragon circles only one side of the light," White explained softly. "The other half remains incomplete."
"Neither side fully consumes the other, because neither of us has truly won."
A strange calm entered his expression. "That is the truth of the King. The throne is never eternal."
"It can always change hands."
Suddenly, the black water beneath White's feet distorted violently. Ripples spread outward in chaotic waves.
"And this world…" His glowing red eyes locked onto Albion. "…always knows who is sitting on the throne."
Albion stayed silent for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay… that actually makes sense."
Truthfully, he wasn't even that surprised anymore.
Most of it matched what he had already begun piecing together himself.
[Hey there… King.]
Albion's eyes widened slightly.
"…Wait a second."
"Hm?" White tilted his head.
"When we first met…" Albion frowned. "Why did you call me 'King'?"
"I understand what the title means now, but why me?"
White remained silent for a moment before answering. "A King is not simply the one sitting on the throne."
His gaze drifted upward toward the hollow sun.
"Nor is it the one born with power."
The white dragon continued its endless orbit overhead while dark ripples spread quietly across the water below.
"The throne answers to will." White's voice became heavier. "To stand above all else…"
"To continue moving forward no matter how broken you become…"
"To refuse despair even when defeat crushes you into the dirt…"
"That is what it means to be King."
Albion listened quietly.
"The reason you ruled this world for so long was never because you were stronger than me."
White looked back at him. "It was because your spirit never bent."
The black water trembled softly.
"But the moment you lost to Gajeel…" His eyes narrowed slightly. "The moment doubt entered your heart…"
White looked upward toward the hollow sun. "…the throne began to waver."
Albion's expression stiffened.
"For the first time," White said quietly, "this world began questioning who its King truly was."
A faint smile crossed his face. "You see, Albion…"
"Strength alone does not decide the King. The King is the one most worthy of the throne."
"The one who keeps standing, the one who never yields."
White's voice softened. "The one who refuses…"
"…to give up."
The words echoed across the endless darkness.
"And if your will continues to falter…"
White's crimson eyes gleamed faintly. "Then eventually…"
"…I will become King instead."
"...." Albion fell silent. Now he finally understood.
The title of King was tied directly to the mind.
To one's spirit.
To become King required possessing the stronger will.
But remaining King…
Required never breaking.
Everything had changed after losing to Gajeel.
That defeat had not merely wounded Albion physically.
For the first time in his life, his confidence had cracked.
His spirit had bent.
And because the Inner World reflected the state of his psyche, the balance within it shifted as well.
The moment Albion faltered, his position upon the throne became unstable.
For the first time, White was no longer merely a prisoner within the Inner World.
The throne itself had become vulnerable.
From that point onward, the Inner World operated under a silent law:
To remain King, one must continue proving themselves worthy of the throne.
And to White, worthiness meant only one thing.
Will.
The one who continued standing no matter what. The one who refused to break.
The one capable of carrying the burden of the throne itself.
Albion's mind drifted back toward White's earlier insults.
[You're a half-baked, delusional, naïve puppet. A puppet that can't think for himself.]
[People with hesitation and weakness like yours will get us both killed!]
[The way you are now… you're too weak to keep holding the title of King.]
Realization slowly dawned on him. '…So that's what he meant.'.Albion exhaled quietly.
'And here I thought he was just talking trash.'
"Hey, I've got another ques—"
"Before that," White interrupted calmly, "I have a few questions of my own."
His crimson eyes narrowed slightly. "Questions that need answers."
Albion studied him for a moment. Then, knowing he had no real reason to refuse, he gave a small nod.
"…Fine. Go ahead."
"First off, I want to know what exactly happened back there," White said suddenly.
His crimson eyes remained fixed on Albion. "Back when I made my offer to you."
Albion didn't need to ask what he meant.
He already knew.
"When I offered to become King in your place," White continued, "there was a small gap between the moment I spoke…"
"…and the moment you made your choice."
His gaze narrowed slightly. "What happened during those few seconds?"
Albion fell quiet for a moment. Then he slowly looked down. "…Honestly, I don't fully know."
His expression grew heavier. "It's not like my memories were erased. And it's not like they were sealed away either."
"I just…"
"…never wanted to remember them."
The black water beneath him rippled softly.
"Any of them."
White remained silent, allowing him to continue.
"As for what actually happened…" Albion exhaled quietly. "…it's a long story."
And so, he began explaining.
October, X772. The day he first met his mother.
From beginning to end, Albion told him everything.
The strange monsters that attacked his mother.
The numerous amounts of blood that follow.
The grand battle that took place in a forest. The Elder Woods forest.
He hid nothing.
For what felt like a long time, only Albion's voice echoed throughout the Inner World.
And when he finally finished, White sat there silently.
"…I see." His tone was quieter now. "But even that doesn't fully explain it."
Albion frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
White stared directly at him. "The Albion standing in front of me now…"
"…and the Albion who first entered this world…"
His stitched lips curved faintly. "They're completely different."
"…Different how?"
"You grew." The answer immediately confused him.
"Huh?"
"Not physically." White clarified. "At least… not obviously."
"But mentally? You changed drastically in an extremely short amount of time."
Albion stared at him blankly for a moment before awkwardly raising a brow.
"Uh…"
"…What are you talking about?"
He glanced down at himself.
Then at his hands.
His arms.
His legs.
"I don't look any different."
White stayed silent.
Meanwhile, Albion lightly stretched one of his arms as if genuinely checking for changes himself.
'…Did he seriously not notice?' White thought.
'No… that's not it. He truly hasn't realized it at all.'
White's eyes narrowed slightly as he began piecing things together internally.
The memories of Metsuri. The emotional collapse. The sudden shift in Albion's behavior.
The spike in willpower.
The overwhelming growth that occurred immediately afterward.
'Those memories only resurfaced because of my interference.'
'Maybe awakening them acted as a catalyst.'
His gaze remained fixed on Albion.
'That would explain the sudden change he underwent earlier.'
Albion continued absentmindedly examining himself, still confused by the conversation entirely.
Meanwhile, White's thoughts deepened further. 'But the real question is…'
The black water beneath his feet rippled slowly.
'Is this strange growth of his purely mental?'…Or does it affect him physically too?'
"Albion."
"Hm?" At the sound of his name, Albion stopped examining himself and looked up.
White hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I don't really know how to explain this properly. And I don't have any proof either, so you'll just have to trust me."
"What is it?" Albion asked.
White drew in a slow breath. "I think you possess some kind of special ability. Something abnormal… something no one else has."
"I don't know where it came from. And I don't know why you have it. But I do know one thing." His red eyes narrowed slightly. "It isn't magic."
Albion frowned. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"I think whatever this power is, it allows you to grow at an unnatural rate." White answered. "Mentally. Emotionally. Maybe even physically."
"You lack knowledge. Experience too. Yet you constantly throw yourself into situations far beyond your level… and somehow, you still manage to get through them."
"It's almost like your mind adapts under pressure. Like the harsher the situation becomes, the faster you evolve in response to it."
"...." Albion stayed silent.
White continued.
"When you first entered Phantom Lord, your thoughts were consumed by one thing." He pointed toward Albion's chest. "The value of your life."
"You questioned yourself constantly. Whether you deserved to exist. Whether it was even okay for you to keep living."
"But during this entire conversation…" White tilted his head slightly. "You haven't questioned that once."
Albion's eyes widened faintly.
"Am I wrong?"
For a few moments, Albion gave no answer. Then, slowly, he shook his head.
"…No."
"The version of you standing here now is completely different from the one who first entered this world." White said calmly. "Back then, you were directionless."
"But now?" A faint grin tugged at the corners of his stitched mouth. "Now you actually want things."
"You want to grow stronger. You want to understand the world."
"You want to learn magic. You want answers about your mother… and about what you truly are."
"And for the first time, those desires are no longer just empty thoughts drifting around in your head."
"They've become goals."
Albion unconsciously clenched his hands.
"But goals alone mean nothing." White said. "Without a path forward, goals are just wishes people use to comfort themselves."
"So tell me, Albion. What exactly are you going to do to reach them?"
'What am I going to do…?'
The question echoed through Albion's mind as memories of his short time within Phantom Lord surfaced one after another.
[Someone like you could never be my son.]
His mother's final words.
[If you had never existed… maybe I could have become something. Maybe my life wouldn't have rotted like this.]
[I curse the day you were born. You should have never been born at all.]
Then Gajeel's voice.
[Don't project your garbage onto me.]
[You wouldn't get it. You've been treated like an object your whole life. Owned and passed around. So don't pretend you suddenly know what it means to live for yourself.]
[Right now, you're a zero. Someone who can't even reach one.]
And finally—
White's words.
The voices overlapped within Albion's mind, each one crashing into the next until they became impossible to separate.
Slowly, Albion rose from the black water.
"In order to survive in Phantom Lord…" he began quietly, "I need to become something I'm not."
His fuchsia eyes lifted toward White.
"If I never challenge myself… if I never stand against people stronger than me… then I'll never change."
Albion spread his arms as emotion surged through his voice.
"Don't you understand?! I need this power!"
"The power to protect myself."
"The power to protect the things I care about."
"The strength to keep moving forward no matter what stands in front of me."
"And I accept every risk that comes with it!"
White stared at him silently before speaking.
"A life like that will bring you nothing except tragedy."
"I don't care." Albion answered immediately.
His voice did not waver.
"I may not have the power to break fate…"
"But I do have the courage to build a path."
"One that stands tall."
"One that will never break."
His breathing steadied.
"And if I want to reach that future…"
Albion extended his hand toward White.
"…then I'm going to need your help."
For a moment, White simply looked at the outstretched hand.
Then a selfish smile spread across his stitched face.
"You should understand something first." White said. "By nature, I crave power."
"If I help you, it won't be out of kindness. Part of me simply wants to grow stronger."
His red eyes narrowed slightly. "As you evolve… so do I."
"I don't care." Albion replied without hesitation. "I already told you."
"I'll use everyone to ascend."
White's smile widened faintly at those words.
Slowly, he reached forward and grabbed Albion's hand, using it to pull himself upright until the two stood face-to-face.
"Then understand this as well." White said quietly.
"The moment I sense even the slightest weakness in your spirit…"
"I won't hesitate to drag you back into this world again."
Albion smirked. "Go ahead and try. I wouldn't want it any other way."
His eyes burned with resolve. "I want everything."
"Your power. Your hatred. Your darkness." Albion tightened his grip on White's hand.
"Give me all of it to devour."
It was not trust. Not friendship either.
But it was still a bond.
Two Kings using one another to evolve.
Two halves sharpening each other against the same blade.
And deep within Albion's mind, one final memory surfaced.
[This is my final gift to you.]
[A curse born from hatred.]
Albion's expression hardened. "I'll devour that darkness too."
"Your hatred, Mother…"
"And I'll turn it into light." His gaze rose toward the hollow sun above.
"Your darkness is my prey."
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Illustration of Albion will be in the comments .