CHAPTER 48: UNTOUCHABLE KING

He stood once more at the edge of the misty lake. The air was cold.

Before him, floating gently across the water, was a boat. It was the same boat that he placed Arthur’s lifeless body on when they first arrived here.

It swayed in place, like it was waiting for him.

Inviting him. Calling him home.

His eyes didn’t move from it.

Out in the center of the lake, she appeared—

The Lady of the Lake.

Silent and radiant as always.

She was floating, her gown untouched by the water underneath her.

"Welcome back," she said.

Her voice wasn’t loud.

It moved through him—warm and soft, like water pouring over old wounds.

He lowered himself to one knee.

"It’s nice to see you again, milady."

His fingers brushed the boat’s edge.

It was smooth. Familiar. Cold.

"...It’s a nice boat," he whispered.

Then he looked up.

Eyes clear.

Voice steady.

"But I can’t go with you. Not yet."

She didn’t ask why.

She only smiled.

"I know."

He stood up, slowly.

He didn’t look back.

"What will you do now?" she asked.

"You already know."

His tone was sharp. Steady. He continued, "I’ll see you next time," he said.

She turned to the lake as the mist swallowed her.

Her voice lingered.

"I will be waiting, my king."

Then... silence.

A sound cut through the stillness.

Sharp and raw, like glass being crushed beneath a weight—

Something he could no longer bear.

It slipped from his throat, ragged and choked, trembling with something deeper than pain.

"I was merciful," he whispered.

"I was patient."

"I waited—for peace. Gave them a chance to redeem themselves."

His jaw clenched. His voice dropped lower.

"But they chose betrayal."

He closed his eyes.

Images of King Kael dying in front of him while he couldn’t do anything.

"Because of me... a wife lost her husband."

"Ana and Lucian won’t be able to see their father again."

The beam of golden light that had pierced the sky began to fade.

Slowly... it was being drawn back.

Absorbed into the golden cocoon.

The cocoon took it all in—

Every thread pulsing brighter as the light was absorbed.

Then the sky went quiet again.

The clouds that had once covered the moon drifted away.

The moonlight spilled through, touching the cocoon.

It shimmered under the silver light.

Still. Glowing.

The lions who had been guarding it slowly backed away.

Just waiting.

Crack.

The silence broke.

A hand pierced through the golden cocoon—sharp, like a blade.

It didn’t hesitate.

It swiped sideways, cutting through the shell.

The cocoon shattered.

The golden cocoon broke apart and started to crumble like a puzzle.

Each fragment fell, glowing faintly before their light disappeared—like it had done its job and was no longer needed.

Through the falling light, Sylas stepped out.

His face was expressionless.

Cold. Still. Unforgiving.

The temperature dropped.

The wind stopped blowing.

The clouds stopped moving.

The lions lowered their heads.

Not out of fear.

But out of respect.

They had felt it.

The return of something greater than power.

The presence of their king.

The system popped up.

Sylas glanced at it once—then swiped it away.

[Passive Unlocked: Untouchable King]

Grade: Divine

Type: Passive – Always Active

Effect:

No one can touch the king without his permission.

All attacks—physical, magical, or spiritual—stop before reaching your body.

The space around you becomes your throne. Untouchable. Absolute.

Perks:

– Blocks any hostile attack within 1 meter

– You choose who can pass through

– Detects surprise attacks, illusions, and hidden enemies

– You can sense everything moving near you

– You may extend this protection to anyone you have blessed

– If you choose to protect someone else, your own protection will vanish until you reclaim it

With this... he could never be betrayed again.

He turned—

And walked toward the kingdom of Selvaran.

Mist started to form around him.

It rolled across the ground—thick, cold.

It wrapped around his legs, bending to his will.

He walked forward.

Every step was slow and deliberate.

Like the ground itself bent to his will.

He could feel everything.

The animals.

The people.

The scent of the Veil clinging to the air.

In front of him stood the soldiers—the ones sent to investigate the light.

Their silhouettes shifted in the fog.

The mist thickened.

"Damn it."

The words slipped out like breath. He turned, eyes scanning the mist.

"Why the hell did the king send us out here this late?"

"Stop talking," another whispered. His voice shook, like he was trying not to fall apart. "Just... shut up and listen."

Another spoke up, his voice shaky.

"I don’t hear or see anything. Just fog."

"No," a third whispered, clutching his weapon. "Something’s out there. Look over there."

Their voices cracked, consumed by the weight in the air.

Then it hit them.

The sudden pressure around them.

It was crushing—like the sky itself was falling on them.

A deep growl came with the mist.

They turned toward the source.

And saw him.

Sylas.

Only his golden-red eyes were visible—burning through the mist like twin embers.

A soft golden glow traced the edge of his sword.

He didn’t speak right away.

He didn’t need to.

Then—

"Leave one."

The words rang out like a verdict.

Cold. Empty. Without a shred of mercy.

And the lions obeyed.

They exploded from the mist like demons—faster than the speed of sound.

The first soldier didn’t have time to scream.

A lion’s jaws clamped down on his throat and yanked—

Ripping it open in a single brutal motion.

Blood sprayed through the air like rain.

Another man raised his sword.

But the lion was faster.

It hit him hard—louder than he expected. Brutal.

His armor didn’t hold. The claws ripped through it like nothing. His ribs snapped like dry branches.

His chest caved in like paper with a sickening crack.

He tried to scream, but the lion bit down on his face and tore it off in one smooth motion.

One tried to run, but he didn’t get far.

A lion caught him mid-step and bit down on his legs—

Instantly snapping the bone with a sharp, wet crack.

The man collapsed. Blood trailing behind him as he tried to crawl away.

"Please... don’t. I’m sorry."

The lion didn’t stop.

Its claw came down—

Tearing his stomach open in a single, brutal strike.

There was no scream.

Only the sound of his insides spilling onto the ground.

Another soldier tried to flee—

But he didn’t make it far either.

A lion leapt up and tackled him.

Dragging him back, he screamed.

It echoed.

One by one, their bodies fell.

The earth drank until it was soaked.

The screams stopped.

Through it all, Sylas kept walking.

There was no remorse in his eyes—only anger.

Cold and steady.

The mist parted before him like it feared him too.

The lions didn’t roar.

They fed in silence.

One soldier remained.

The leader of the lions bit his legs and dragged him toward Sylas.

The man froze in fear.

His breath caught after seeing a dead man come back to life.

His eyes widened as he met Sylas’s.

Golden-red. Empty.

Then Sylas leaned in, his voice low and calm.

"Go back."

"Tell them I’m coming."

The soldier didn’t move. More like he couldn’t.

His body trembled under Sylas’s presence.

He gasped for air, but he couldn’t—

Like he had forgotten how to breathe.

Like he needed Sylas’s permission to breathe.

He knelt down.

Got close to the man’s ear.

His breath was steady.

His voice was not loud.

"Tell them all..."

"I will bathe the moon in their blood."

The words came in a whisper—quiet, low, cold.

Final.

Then he stood.

"Now go."

The man turned.

He stumbled toward the kingdom of Selvaran—legs shaking, breath broken.

And behind him...

The king followed.

Silent.

Steady.

Like death wearing a crown.