Of course Mize knew something was off the moment that question landed.

It hit a nerve, one Liam had carefully avoided since the beginning.

She didn’t say anything right away. But she felt it too around her palm.

The sudden tension that rippled through his hand, the slightest twitch of muscle beneath her touch.

It was there, just for a second… before that strange calming force dulled it, smoothed it out like it was never there.

Still, she noticed.

And Liam knew she did.

He exhaled softly, then flipped his hand over, the one resting beneath hers on his thigh.

His fingers laced with hers, holding tight, grounding himself as he looked straight ahead.

A breath. Just one.

Then he said it.

“…Yeah. I am one of the Great Old Ones.”

The air didn’t stir.

But the figure responded.

“I see…”

That voice again, if it even was a voice. It wasn’t made of words. More like overlapping echoes that tricked the brain into understanding.

But the feeling behind it?

That came through loud and clear.

“But there’s something odd about you. Even as one of the Great Old Ones… you feel too fresh. Like you were born recently"

"And such a weak strength too... Not even at the star realm"

The figure paused.

The weight of its attention settled on Liam, heavy. Whether it had eyes or not didn’t matter. The gaze was real.

“Even that space of yours… it reeks of freshness. Just an empty space filled with water. Despite the huge quantity you have, everything are still in their growing stage"

Liam nodded once.

“It is new,” he confirmed, there wasn't a need to hide it any longer. After this, he planned to explain everything about his ability to Mize.

“I see…” the being echoed again.

Whether it actually nodded, or whether it just felt like it did, Liam couldn’t tell.

Maybe the mist moved. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it was just a silent understanding, passed from thought to thought without form or need.

Either way… it was enough.

Then, the being turned its gaze sideways, if one could call it that, and met Mize’s eyes.

Her crimson irises, like cut rubies in moonlight, locked onto the ever-shifting haze.

The mist stilled, and for a heartbeat, so did everything else.

An almost imperceptible pause.

Maybe surprise flickered through the formless veil of fog, maybe something else?

But only for a breath.

“As for you…” For original chapters go to noᴠelfire.net

The voice dragged, slow and deliberate, as a limb, or something like it, extended partway… then stopped.

It recoiled.

“What are you?”

The question dropped like a weight into the atmosphere. And then the sky shimmered, as if dipped in violet dusk.

A chill shot through Mize’s spine when she heard this.

Her breath caught.

This time, whatever strange calm had been pressed over her mind before, was gone.

The 'forced' state of calmness, failed.

Panic struck fast and hard.

Both hands clenched on reflex. Even the one resting on Liam’s hand tightened, a reflex born from pure instinct.

Then.

Something slipped from her lips, her eyes flickered strangely in a split second, something that wasn't her.

A voice.

A voice came out from her mouth.

Shoulders lowered in a relaxed manner, eyes lost in that split second.

“You don’t need to know.”

!!!

Liam turned, but what he saw made him pause. Mize’s expression was... the same.

But he still caught it, the strangeness just now. That split-second flicker, the subtle shift.

That wasn’t the Mize he knew.

The figure stared. Confused... and shocked.

And for the first time in a long, long time, even it didn’t know what it was looking at just now.

"W-what... Are you?"

He asked again, his voice faltering, and he lifted his hand, looking over it, "M-My authority is failing?"

He dragged his gaze again forward, then...

It came...

The long lost emotion of fear that he had forsaken eons ago.

'Older than time?'

'Or outside of time altogether?'

'What... is this?'

The question echoed, not aloud, but inside the folds of his mind. The figure searched for logic, for comprehension, and found none.

And the feelings kept bubbling up more as it happened. Fear, anxiety, apprehension. Something it hadn’t tasted in eons.

It has been so long that he forgot how to react. it gripped whatever it called a chest.

The sensation rippled across what passed for its body, unfamiliar.

It recoiled. Not just in thought, but in essence.

And then...

"You monster!!!!"

"Arghhhh!!!"

It shreiked, incomprehensible pitch as the sky distorted alongside it. Then...

it fled.

Zoom!

Everything snapped into a brief blinding light, covering the whole world as it fled away into his own dimension.

However, just briefly as he escaped, he felt a gaze from a 'very distant place' and vividly saw...

'What... Are you?'

'it' saw death covered in a blinding light, and a pair of huge red ruby eyes that spanned an unknown distance beyond the warp.

So vast...

So... Beautiful.

Gone.

The sky stilled. The world stilled. And suddenly, Liam and Mize blinked, despite their eyes already being open.

They were standing again. Mid-air. No table. No cushion. Just the scarred land beneath, wind brushing against them like nothing had happened.

No trace of the figure.

No sign of its presence.

Or…

Maybe they couldn’t remember.

Or maybe they did.

Liam reached toward his chest, palm open, pressing over where his heart beat beneath.

Trying to feel if it still was beating.

“What… happened?”

His voice came quietly, almost unsure.

Mize, standing beside him, didn’t answer right away.

Her brow furrowed, lips parted slightly in confusion.

Her hand rose to her head, fingers tangling into her own hair, gripping both sides as if trying to stabilize something she couldn’t see.

“I… can’t remember either. Wasn’t there, wasn’t there supposed to be… the final wave?”

Her voice trailed off.

They stood there. Just the two of them. A meter apart. No words. No movement. No sound.

Just a strange stillness… as if the world had inhaled and forgotten how to exhale.

They knew the final wave had ended. But how it happened… was a blur. A haze. A blank slate smeared across their memories.

Liam’s breathing was steady, controlled, too controlled.

Meanwhile, Mize stood beside him, but not still. Her fingers twitched. Her eyes trembled. The weight of her mental strength, once her pride, now became her curse.

Fragments clawed their way back into her mind. And it hurt. Deeply.

Her body swayed, as if the wind had slipped beneath her feet.

Tears spilled quietly from the corners of her eyes, trailing down her cheeks. Her hands shot up, clutching her head, nails digging in as she grit her teeth.

“Urghhh… Liam…”

Her voice cracked, barely louder than the wind. Her right hand groped the air blindly, reaching, seeking something, someone, before her knees buckled.

Liam snapped out of his daze in an instant.

He caught her before she fell from the air, arms wrapping around her trembling frame as his frown deepened.

“Mize?"

"damn it... hold on.”

Without pause, he pulled several potion bottles from his storage ring.

One by one, he pressed them to her lips, making her drink them all.

But the effects were weak.

Minimal.

Liam's eyes widened, after all. Those potions that should've been almost miracle like for most Awakeners no barely worked against her.

He learned from the past mistakes that low tier potions wouldn't be able to work on her body.

Then, he went as far as to spend some of his points to purchase for high tier potions from his system.

Yes... However, the effects were still the same.

She remained half-conscious, not entirely present.

Her body limp in his arms, but her eyes wide open, swimming in confusion.

Like someone trapped between sober lucidity and drunken disorientation, with a headache clawing at her sanity.

She whimpered softly, burying her face in his chest.

And then.

Boom.

A voice thundered from the heavens, shaking the air.

[Congratulations to Lord Liam and his partner Lord, Mize, for being the only lords to complete the first event! Reaching the 1000th wave and successfully unlocking this world from the constraint of destruction!]

[From now on, this world will become a solitary plane that can be governed by the strongest lord to conquer it!]

A radiant light burst across the sky, casting golden hues over the clouds like some ancient divine scripture unfolding above the world.

Across distant lands, people dropped to their knees in awe, but Liam… didn’t care.

He didn’t even glance up.

Celebration? Not now.

In the blink of an eye, he vanished from the sky, teleporting straight into the castle.

Inside the familiar halls, he wasted no time.

Gently, he laid Mize down onto the soft silk sheets of the bed, brushing a hand over her forehead.

Her skin was cold. Her breathing uneven.

“Come on, stay with me…”

He rummaged through everything, potions, talismans, sacred artifacts, dumping every resource he had at arm’s reach.

None of them worked.

None of them worked!!!

Still, he didn’t stop. He refused to stop.

"Damn it!"

"Damn it!!!!!"

Days drifted by since the end of the first killing event.

The sun and moon had taken their turns across the sky more times than one could count.

Clouds rolled, birds wheeled lazily overhead, and the world moved on, as if the chaos had been nothing but a storm briefly passing through.

Time sped up.

Buildings rose. Streets widened. People poured into the city in such numbers that, if one blinked too long, the skyline would look different the next time they opened their eyes.

The city now spanned over 50 kilometers in both width and length. An architectural blend took root, neither wholly Eastern nor purely from the old Malaccan heritage.

Somehow, the jagged contrast of styles worked.

Towering pagoda-like structures stood beside weathered sandstone buildings, wood-latticed balconies leaning over smoky alleyways.

It was messy but beautiful, like a song that shouldn't rhyme, yet still carried a rhythm.

Robes were the fashion now. Not sleek suits or armor-like uniforms, but huge, loose robes with layers and flowing sleeves, each patterned in unique styles.

The women looked like fairy princesses draped in soft silk, delicate flowers pinned to their hair or hovering behind their ears with spiritual runes.

The men wore scholar-like garments, some minimalist, others embroidered with poems or emblems, giving them an air of mysticism and thoughtfulness.

Everyone seemed... well-mannered, graceful, like they all came from some theatrical lineage of old.

And right at the heart of this bustling city, two people sat under a crooked parasol outside a tea house, steamed Harmony, a little corner shop known for its ridiculously good dumplings.

One of them, a tall man in a dark blue robe with mountain motifs sewn onto his cuffs, sat with one leg crossed over the other, fanning himself lazily.

He had a neatly tied topknot and a silver pin tucked behind his ear, which jingled slightly every time the wind picked up.

He looked clean, proper, probably mid-thirties.

Across from him sat a younger man, leaner, more casual. His robe was untied at the waist, revealing part of a black underlayer that clung to his chest like second skin.

A jade necklace rested against his collarbone, and he had a soft mess of shoulder-length hair, untamed except for a cloth ribbon tied near the end.

The younger man sipped his tea and leaned over, whispering as he tilted his chin toward the street.

“You see those guys?”

Lumbering down the stone road were two massive soldiers in plated green power armor, the surface etched with strange, glowing sigils.

They carried large bolter guns slung on their backs, and each one held a thick, leather-bound book in the opposite hand, holy scripture of the church.

The older man didn’t even turn to look. “Mm. Broken Blade Legion. Her highness’ warriors.”

“No way… they look like walking fortresses,” the younger one muttered. “I heard they showed up after the war against the... whatever that was"

"And since they came from the same roots, I thought they were from the church"

"But it seems there's some misunderstanding between the two sides, no?"

“That they did. Lord Elias brokered something with them. Church, Adventure Guild, and the other forces"

“Wait,” the younger man squinted. “The Church isn’t with them?”

The older one finally glanced over, arching a brow. “Apparently not. Rumor is, the Three True Kings refused to merge with the Church.”

“The same ones who showed up a few months ago and declared themselves her highness’ angels?”

“That’s them.”

“And Saint Harapan?”

“Doesn’t get along with them.” He tapped the table, thoughtful. “Some believe it’s about title disputes. The Kings think Harapan doesn’t deserve the 'angel' name.”

“But aren’t they all considered her angels anyway?”

“Depends who you ask,” the older man muttered. “It’s gotten... theological.”

"The church is spreading extremely fast now, almost 5 out of ten people are the church believers"

The younger one let out a low whistle, settling back into his seat as a pair of robed girls walked past, their sleeves fluttering like butterfly wings in the breeze.

A child ran after them, slipping once before catching himself and giggling.

"Enough of the church, how about the lord? Is the situation still the same? Come on tell me, since you work there as a transporter"

"Well... the rumours were true about her highness being in a coma. I was surprised too when I heard it. And the lord seems to be in a very bad mood these days"

"Bad mood?"

"Well... Let's just say some people went missing, and from time to time. You can hear... screaming from the underground maze layer of the castle"

"It has gotten that bad?"

"It is extremely bad now. You heard about the great shadow army too right, the recent moves?"

"You mean the land cleaning outside the territory?"

"Yes, it was brutal. The lord doesn't just order for the land clearing outside, but he also began clearing out those territories governed by the other lords. It's a full scale war out there, and lord Saka was the general in charge"

Then, as the two sat sipping tea and watching life unfold, another whisper came from a nearby table, two old women hunched under a bright paper parasol, fanning themselves and gossiping between bites of dumpling.

“I heard Saint Harapan refused the merger because he doesn’t want the Church to become militarized.”

“Well, my nephew cleans the library of the church. He told me the Three Kings think Harapan is a fraud. Says he’s no more angel than a dead fish.”

“Hmph. I don’t care who’s right. I just want peace to hold. Too much chaos already.”

“I’m more worried about the land to the west,” another man chimed in, sitting on a nearby bench with his legs folded.

He wore a dusty white robe with burn marks across one sleeve, and a giant scroll slung behind his back. “That cursed battlefield’s been swarming with monsters lately.”

“Yeah,” the older tea drinker said, picking up the conversation. “Lord Liam sealed the whole place off. Wall’s taller than anything I had seen in my life, it took so many church Vastems to continuosly cleanse the area before people were allowed to approach outside the wall"

“And the shadow army’s stationed there too,” added the scroll-wearer. “But I heard the Awakeners keep going in. Apparently, some of the monsters that were born from the corruption are worth quite a bit.”

“Not my business,” the young man at the table muttered, finally finishing his tea. “I just want to live long enough to get old.”

The older man smirked. “Then stop dragging your feet near danger zones.”

“I don’t! I just... you know, like hearing about it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The parasol flapped slightly above them as a breeze kicked through the plaza. Lanterns swayed. A bell chimed from across the square.

For a city that had barely survived a world-ending wave, it was remarkably alive.

And for now... that was enough.