CHAPTER 472: CHAPTER 472 - THE FORGOTTEN ONE

"Help me uncover what has been hidden," the leader murmured. "Do that... and I will return your freedom."

Ayana stared up at them, her pulse hammering in her ears. For the first time since her capture, she felt something beyond fear, something ancient, heavy, and unfamiliar stirring deep within her chest.

"...Who told you about my power?!" she demanded, her voice trembling but firm.

"Hmm?" The leader tilted his head slightly, almost amused. "It would be strange if we didn’t know, my child, Eyes that can see anything-"

"It’s not!" Ayana snapped, struggling against her restraints. "My power doesn’t work like that!"

The leader chuckled softly, the sound muffled beneath the mask. "Not yet, my child," he whispered, tone dripping with unsettling certainty.

Then he turned away from her, raising his hand toward the kneeling followers.

"Prepare the altar," he commanded. "Let us begin the ceremony... the Baptism of the Darkness"

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That night, Askara slept soundly, completely unaware of what was happening to Ayana.

When morning came, he woke with a groan. His body still ached faintly, but the sharp pain was gone; he could move freely now. That alone felt like progress.

Unlike most royal families, the D’Archys were a peculiar one. They didn’t rely heavily on servants or attendants for their daily routines.

They bathed themselves, dressed themselves, and preferred their privacy.

The maids and butlers handled the practical duties, cleaning, organizing, and tending to the estate, but the D’Archys liked to do things with their own hands.

After washing up and changing into a simple dark tunic, Askara stepped out of his room. The hallway was already alive with quiet motion, maids dusting chandeliers, butlers sweeping the marble floors, morning light spilling through the tall windows in long, golden beams.

Askara usually woke up the latest among his siblings. Even Anggana, the laziest of them, was often up before him. That in itself was strange enough to make him frown slightly as he walked.

When the maids noticed him, some paused and bowed politely. Though they’d seen him bedridden just the day before, none seemed surprised to see him up and walking. Most of them had served the D’Archys long before Askara or his siblings were even born. They knew what this family was, and what they were capable of.

"Are the others already in the dining room?" Askara asked, his voice still rough from sleep.

One of the younger maids looked up at him and smiled playfully. She appeared human, with light hair and bright eyes, but Askara knew better. Beneath that illusion granted by the enchanted rings from Saranjana, her true form was something else entirely.

"Waking up late again, Prince?" she teased, her tone light and teasing. "Yes, everyone’s already in the dining room"

Askara sighed faintly, ignoring the jab. "I see," he said, then continued down the hall, his footsteps echoing softly.

When he reached the dining room, the tall double doors were already open, and the low hum of conversation spilled into the corridor.

The butler stationed at the entrance bowed as Askara approached. Askara returned a polite nod before stepping inside.

The D’Archy Family held one unbreakable tradition, no meal began until every member of the family was present. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, it didn’t matter. Whether they were nobles, kings, or legends, the table remained untouched until all had gathered.

Exceptions were made only for extraordinary circumstances, such as the recent trial. Even Aksara, the King of Saranjana and the head of their family, did not disregard that rule... Of course, Askara had missed a few meals in the past simply because he tended to oversleep.

Inside, the grand dining hall was already alive with warmth and motion.

Nearly every seat was filled, his great-grandmother, his grandparents, his mothers, his brothers and sisters, all gathered and chatting lightly.

Even Erelythe sat among them, beside his brother, Aksara, her quiet presence both regal and intimidating.

"Oh, here we are," Aksara said with a small smirk, glancing up as Askara took his seat.

Askara sat down, noticing a few empty chairs at the far end of the table. The main seat, the one at the head of the table, remained empty as always.

Aksara refused to sit there. Though he was the King of Saranjana and the de facto head of the D’Archy family, he insisted that the chair belonged only to their father. Taufik D’Archy Hidayat.

"...Sorry for the wait," Askara said finally, glancing around the table.

At that, a ripple of laughter passed among them.

"Well~ it’s not like this was the first time," Aksara teased.

"Yeah, yeah," Askara muttered, waving it off. He didn’t bother defending himself anymore.

Soon after, the maids began serving breakfast.

Plates and cups appeared before each seat, though not everyone touched theirs.

Most members of the D’Archy family were not human, and sustenance was optional to them. They didn’t eat because they needed to, they ate because they remembered.

This ritual was less about food and more about memory.

A way to honor their beginnings.

To remember that the one who made their existence possible, their father, had once been nothing more than an ordinary human being.

"Aska," Aksara said quietly, his voice carrying a hint of weight beneath its calm. "After breakfast, come with me to the throne room. You’ll take part in the meeting"

"Yes," Askara replied without hesitation. He didn’t need to ask what the meeting was about, he already knew.

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Beyond the universe that contains the Milky Way, countless other universes spin in silence. In one of those universes, on a distant planet nobody in our sky-chart had ever heard of, a lone man stood amid a ring of strange, watchful entities. He wore a tattered robe and a katana hung at his hip; wind, if wind could be called that there, played over his sleeves.

"The Forgotten One," one of the entities said, its voice like stone grinding on stone. "You’ve caused enough chaos in our universe. What exactly are you after? If you persist, we will delete you"

The man considered them for a long moment, then laughed, a dry, easy sound that did not match the tense air.

"Delete me?" he echoed. "Cause chaos? No. You’re wrong. I didn’t make the chaos, I’m cleaning up the mess you made. You’ve been tormenting the mortals of this world for too long. I don’t plan to stop. So tell me, what are you going to do about it?"

An entity bristled. "For an outsider, you’re bold. Enough talk. Erase him"

The man did not flinch. He spread his hands, palms up, as if inviting them in. "Then come," he said, calm and unhurried. "If you want to fight, start with you"

As he said that, the void trembled.

No sound. No wind. Only the weight of existence itself holding its breath.

The entities moved first. Their forms unfolded like equations made of light and void, shifting geometries that bent the rules of time and matter.

With a single thought, they released power that could erase galaxies.

The universe dimmed.

And yet, the man, the Forgotten One... stood still.

His tattered robe fluttered though there was no wind. His eyes, dim like dying stars, reflected a defiance older than creation itself.

"Erase me, is it?" He whispered and drew his katana.

The blade sang as it left the sheath, a sound that split silence itself. The void shuddered, as though remembering a forgotten law.

Then the first strike came.

A spear of pure erasure tore through space, unraveling entire constellations in its path. The man raised his blade, and the spear stopped.

Time itself bent around the edge of the Katana, the erasure collapsing into light.

"...Hah." He smirked. "You’ve forgotten what real deletion means"

He moved.

One step, and the fabric of reality cracked.

Second step, and the nearest entity vanished, sliced in half before understanding how. Not destroyed. Not killed. Simply removed from existence, like a word erased from a divine script.

The others reacted instantly. Fractals of divine law formed around him, symbols of the universe’s code rearranging to cage him.

But he was already gone.

Appearing behind one of them, his blade traced a slow, deliberate arc. The moment it ended, the entity screamed without a mouth, its form dissolving into countless stars.

"You call me a chaos bringer," he said, walking through the light of its fading body, "but you’re the ones who forgot balance"

The surviving entities, now wary, retreated slightly, even their perfect logic fracturing under fear. The void pulsed with their combined energy, an artificial sun blooming in the center of the nothingness.

"Then balance this," one of them hissed, and the sun detonated.

The explosion devoured everything, light, sound, matter rewriting the surrounding space into white oblivion.

But through the blinding light, a shadow walked.

Tattered robe. Dim blade. Unbroken gaze.

He swung once.

The detonation folded in on itself, collapsing into a singularity that froze midair, then shattered like glass.

"Still not enough," the man said softly. "You want deletion...? Then let me show you how it’s done"

He thrust the katana into the void.

Cracks spread outward, beautiful and terrible, reality splintering as if the universe itself were a shell.

Each fragment revealed another world, another law, another truth.

The entities screamed as those cracks reached them. Not in pain, but in understanding.

Because what they saw beyond the break wasn’t chaos.

It was correction.

The Forgotten One stepped through the fractures, his figure fading into the light between worlds.

When the cracks sealed, the entities were gone. Their existence erased not by violence, but by inevitability.

And from the silence that followed, his voice echoed, distant and cold:

"I warned you. I’m not here to destroy your universe, nor to rewrite what you’ve broken. I only seek a way home..."

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