Life Number 0-Chapter 36: Kingdom of Arkanis ll

He took a deep breath, the hot air entered his lungs, but it wasn’t suffocating, it wasn’t harsh..."I’m alive."At that moment, that alone was enough."And as I expected, this body is cursed, cursed by fire... like the boy’s condition, and there’s something wrong with that, but the important thing is that he saved me, the fire did that."But then—a sound. A deafening screech tore through the silence, the grinding of rocks against rocks, a low roar building like distant tidal waves. Except they weren’t distant. The Ocean’s Grasp, the colossal entity they had thought defeated, was not lifeless after all. Its massive body stirred, its void-like eyes burning with pure, unrelenting hatred. "It’s impossible! How... how are we going to deal with this thing?" one of the Magins cried out, panic lacing their voice. The entity glowed faintly, blue sparks flickering between its layers, illuminating its massive, decaying form. It began to rise, its movements slow but deliberate, its jaw opening wide. Inside, a dark, icy vortex swirled, a gravitational point of pure malice. "What’s the plan, damn it? Gamora is nowhere to be found, the King!, the voices have vanished—did he die? And now this?!" Claude spat, his eyes fixed on the monstrous jaw. Egologia stood motionless in the distance, watching as if he were safe, as if the chaos couldn’t touch him.But the others—the leaders, the Magins, the guards—all froze, their breaths held in anticipation. "This thing... is it going to do what it does?" Egologia muttered..The entity’s jaw opened wider, the vortex within growing darker, colder. Then— "Look!" A high-pitched scream shattered the tension. But everyone had already seen it. A golden light cut through the foggy sky, a blazing meteor of pure radiance. The gray gloom was overcome by the golden glow, a celestial festival of light and power. The Ocean’s Grasp, driven by instinct alone, opened its jaw wider, as if to consume the light. But the golden meteor pierced through its mouth, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. Then— Massive rays of light erupted from within the entity, tearing through its body like divine judgment. Holes opened in its form, not from external blows, but from the light expelling its very existence. The golden beams burst through its cracks, its body glowing before exploding in a cascade of light and debris. Its rocky shoulders crumbled, its legs gave way, and its jaw crashed to the ground.The once-mighty entity, the size of an island, was reduced to a pitiful heap, its final scream echoing not from its body, but from the halo of its disintegration. The Ocean’s Grasp collapsed, its massive body shattering into debris that fell like comets. The shockwaves threw soldiers back, the ground trembling as if finally released from a nightmare. Silence returned, heavier than before. Amidst the settling dust, something moved above the ruins. Not a meteor, not energy—a man. His image became clearer as the dust thinned. [Oriver Morgan] The Eternal Overseer of the Sky War. The Eternal Heir of the most ancient lineage in Zirafin, the Oriver lineage. The Golden Structure of Zirafin. Valeras’ only rival. He stood atop the rubble, his presence alone rendering the ruins beneath him unworthy.His posture was regal, every inch of him radiating loftiness. His eyes—two glowing stars—did not reflect light; they created it. His long, golden hair flowed like liquid sunlight, a purity that could not be forged. His white robe, adorned with threads of gold, billowed softly in the wind. In his clenched fist, he held the fate of the battle, a silent declaration that the Golden Structure had arrived. The war was over.

But then, a voice pierced the silence... "You’ve become a hero now." Egologia stopped walking, then slowly turned his gaze toward the figure leaning against the nearby wall. It was Claude, standing there, motionless but weary, his face covered in scars. Yet, he did not seem fragile. The passing days had mended his bones, but his skin retained the marks of battle as a permanent reminder—at least of Valeras. Egologia raised an eyebrow with a faint smile. "Oh, Sir... You’re alive, then."He moved closer, his tone calm, almost devoid of genuine interest. "You’ve uncovered a hero now. Well done, egologia. That giant amulet... You never cease to amaze me."Egologia did not respond immediately, taking another step forward. "Oh, of course... And I’ll amaze you again now." Claude’s gray eyes flickered with a fleeting question. "?" Egologia slowly raised his hand... and placed it on Claude’s face. At that moment, the aura erupted—a dark crimson flow, surging between egologia’s fingers as if alive. The aura crackled through the air like bloody threads dancing across Claude’s wounds. It coiled around the scars, weaving into them with delicate strands like spider silk, touching every scratch, every wound, every bruise—and began reshaping them. This was not mere healing. Not just the mending of torn flesh or restoring tissue to its original state. No, this was something else... as if the flesh itself was reforming, something beyond mere healing Maga. Claude watched in awe and anticipation. The sensation wasn’t pain—it was strange, like a cold current flowing beneath his skin... Trying to comprehend what was happening, egologia then removed his hand. A moment passed... as if the air itself was struggling to grasp what had occurred. The deep scars from mere seconds ago... had vanished completely. "What... What was that?"!

Claude rushed forward in a frenzy, his eyes fixed on his reflection in the ornately carved golden pillar as he touched his face, confirming the sensation... "Damn... My face is completely smooth."He quickly turned his head toward egologia, who stood as if the matter held no significance to him. "Your healing ability... How?"Egologia smiled, enjoying the reaction... "My pockets aren’t empty, dear sir. You see it, don’t you? I even erased your old scars. At the very least, you’ll look properly noble now. The noblewomen will love it." Claude narrowed his eyes... "This power... It could benefit the kingdom. It could revolutionize—" But egologia waved his hand dismissively. "Oh... Hold on, hold on!! Don’t go telling me—keep it a secret. Leave it to me. As you can see, I know when to reveal... and when to vanish."Then he crossed his arms and asked: "Well then, tell me... Are you from a noble lineage?" "Huh?! How could you not know that? Are you joking? Where do you live? How could you not—?"Egologia laughed lightly, cutting him off... "Nah, I mean... just processing. Sometimes, this is how a noble knight is... It’s just amusing." Claude raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?" Suddenly—something pierced the atmosphere. A swift wind rushed through the corridor, hurried, tense, as if heralding a storm. Claude and egologia turned sharply! "Damn... What was that?" [Claude]"What now?" [Egologia] "Who is it?" Egologia narrowed his eyes, but Claude recognized it instantly. "It’s Kaspar... I’ll catch up to him."’?’ At the hall’s entrance, nobles were filing out one by one, their steps measured—but the movement that cut through their ranks was anything but. Kaspar arrived in a flash, darting between them like a fleeting spark, landing firmly with a mix of urgency and fear in his gaze. The crowd stared at him in shock, but his voice shattered the silence. "Your Majesty!!" *??!"The destructive entity [Howard The Collapse]... He’s in the capital’s streets right now."Silence fell for a moment. Then—everything collapsed. Breaths hitched, eyes widened, and thoughts raced through their minds as if they had all plunged into an abyss at once. Then, the king blinked. "Howard... After all this time. So, he has come."It wasn’t a question. It wasn’t even an exclamation. It was a simple truth, written since time immemorial. The politicians exchanged glances. One turned toward the windows, half-expecting to see the city’s lights shift. Morgan... "I’ll go." He said it calmly, but his voice was like a dagger in the void. "You won’t go alone." Morgan turned to him, something in his gaze resisting—but the king had already made his decision. "Take your three sons with you. Only you can drive him away... and make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless."Morgan didn’t argue. There, in the heart of a grand plaza, stood a massive figure—blackened muscles, taut flesh, his head slightly tilted as if listening to something no one else could hear. A towering body clad in thick black fur, one eye red and the other gray. Dark metal armor, weighted and strapped to his frame with leather bindings. At the center of his chest hung a circular medallion, etched with cryptic symbols, a testament to an oath none dared to break. His grip tightened around an axe that seemed an extension of himself, his other hand—never trembling. He wasn’t attacking. He wasn’t killing. He wasn’t strode past. He walked as if the earth itself parted for him—then, without hesitation, shoved Claude aside with his shoulder, as if his own son were nothing but a pebble on the road, and continued forward. Claude didn’t move. A coldness seeped into his skin—the chill of disregard. He stared at his father’s back for a moment, then clenched his fist, gathering his wavering voice to say: "My lord... I’m coming with you."It wasn’t a request. It wasn’t a plea. He had to declare it himself. But Morgan... did not respond. He didn’t stop. He didn’t slow his steps. He didn’t turn. He kept walking, as if the words had never been spoken. Claude felt something ignite inside him. Anger? No, not anger. If he were angry, he would have run ahead and forced his father to acknowledge him. But he didn’t. Sorrow? No, not sorrow either. If he were sorrowful, he would