CHAPTER 533: THE TRUTH...

As everyone finally settled, Liam drew in a steady breath and began recounting everything they needed to hear. Not the entire truth—he had no intention of offering that—but all the essentials, the pieces that mattered and wouldn’t drag him into explanations he didn’t owe anyone. He started from the moment his life dangled on the edge of death during his and Mabel’s battle with Morenelle, Sylvathar’s assistant, and how in that fleeting, suffocating instant, he forged a deal with Aesmirius.

He told them how Aesmirius agreed to keep him alive and rescue both Mabel and Sheila from the collapsing sanctuary. In return, Liam had to surrender himself to the unconscious realm of his mind for an extended period. From there, he explained how he had been forced to train within that inner world, pushing himself until he was able to withstand the weight of reliving Marcus’ and Serah’s memories—his parents’ memories—without shattering.

Slowly, he shifted into explaining who Aesmirius truly was. Not the fragile, pitiful figure the world might imagine, but a being who had clawed his way into godhood. Liam laid down the key points, handpicking what he wanted them to know and discarding the unnecessary, the irrelevant, the too-personal. He spoke of Aesmirius’ history with the demons, the war that nearly killed him, and how he had retreated into the realm he had once destroyed and rebuilt from ash—the realm they now called Amthar.

He continued into the events following Aesmirius’ return, then went on detailing his own journey into the Forest of Kyrell went he was ten after his grandfather’s death. He explained how he had conquered the trials kf the forest which later led to him having possession of Aetherion. Each piece of the story fit together with crisp logic, yet Liam kept certain truths buried in the dark where they belonged.

He omitted the three long years he had lived inside that world, refusing to let them see him as an adult trapped in a teenager’s body. He kept quiet about his evolution, about the brutal fight against himself in the mind realm, and Aesmirius’ request that he travel to Jhuntar.

They didn’t need to know any of that—not now, maybe not ever. And as for Jhuntar, he knew that once he informed them about it and asked for passage, they would insist on helping him or stopping him, neither of which he would tolerate. Timing was everything, and this moment wasn’t it.

When he finally finished, the room fell into a quiet so thick it felt like a second atmosphere. Every person there carried a different expression—a different brand of disbelief, shock, or uneasy curiosity. It wasn’t every day one learned their realm had once been completely demolished out of what Liam bluntly described as "pettiness," only to be rebuilt by the same godlike being. And even rarer was discovering that the dormant power of that very being now slept inside a sixteen-year-old boy.

"That’s one hell of an adventure you went on inside that head of yours, kid," Magnus said at last, breaking the silence as he folded his arms behind his head. "To think you were having the time of your life while everyone else here was ready to lose it." His tone carried a theatrical disappointment.

"Your girlfriend over there nearly lost her mind," he added, jutting a thumb toward Mabel. She stiffened at the sudden attention, heat burning behind her mask though she tried to remain composed. "Then you have your second mother—Mystica. Our dear Moony couldn’t even sleep."

Mystica’s eye twitched dangerously, though her smile stayed fixed.

"Oh, and let’s not forget the Queen herself," Magnus went on, pointing lazily at Lucy. "You put even her on edge. And most importantly, you drove the strongest knight of Amthar—your uncle—to madness. Gally wouldn’t even eat because of you. Tsk, tsk. Kid, you’re one of a kind."

The moment he finished his dramatic speech and struck a pose of exaggerated sorrow, a thick book flew through the air and smacked him squarely on the head.

Magnus winced, clutching the spot. "Come on, Gally, what was that for?"

"My hand slipped," Galen replied dryly, though a faint spark of amusement lit his eyes—so rare it almost didn’t seem real.

Liam watched them quietly, a fleeting thought crossing his mind. ’Looks like he’s been wanting to do that for a long time.’

Then another realization settled in with a dull thud. ’Six months... he said six months.’

He had lived three years in that mind-realm with Aesmirius, yet only half a year had passed in the real world. The irritation simmered beneath his indifference as he absorbed the truth.

’I wasn’t even gone a full year,’ he thought, mildly annoyed at the imbalance of time, though too tired to care enough to show it.

"So, Liam," Lucy said softly, her voice cutting cleanly through the fog of his drifting thoughts. There was no aggression in her tone, yet there was a firmness beneath it that drew his eyes to hers. "Knowing now that you possess the power to destroy and rebuild entire realms... I need to understand. What is your goal at this moment?"

The chamber fell into a heavy hush. Once again, everyone’s focus shifted toward him, their collective anticipation settling on his shoulders like an unnecessary weight.

’Talk about being dramatic,’ Liam mused, feeling the air tighten with expectation. The sudden attention irritated him more than it should have, and he fought the urge to sigh outright.

Instead, he drew in a slow, controlled breath. "My goal is the same as it has always been," he answered bluntly. "Getting stronger, and avenging my grandfather." His tone held no theatrics, no flourish—just fact. "This... power inside me might add more responsibilities than I initially signed up for, but killing demons was always going to be a side objective after I dealt with Sanguis."

"I see," Lucy replied, a small, knowing smirk touching her lips. "I’m glad to hear that."

’Of course you are,’ Liam thought dryly. ’Everything I just told you only fueled your little ambition to turn me into an asset.’

"Hey, kid."

Galen’s voice cut through his thoughts, quieter than usual yet sharper, more grounded. Liam turned to him, finding the white-haired knight still leaning against the wall with that deceptively relaxed posture.

"Yeah?"

"You said you lived your parents’ memories," Galen said, his tone unreadable.

"I did."

"Then you would’ve seen their deaths as well... their last moments."

Liam didn’t answer right away. His gaze met those familiar crimson eyes—his own reflected in an older, wearier form. He already knew what Galen was truly asking. The question wasn’t about information. It was about closure. About pain. About a wound he had been carrying far longer than Liam had been alive.

"Yes," Liam said finally, voice steady. "I lived every moment."

Galen’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. A brief silence passed before he spoke again. "Then... do you mind telling me how Marcus died?" His voice remained calm, but the emotional strain beneath it was clear, threaded through each syllable.

Liam inhaled slowly.

"Of course."