《Misunderstood Villain: Heroines Mourn My Death》


 Chapter 1 First Death

    "All untainted paths lead to the one truth."


    Dramatic, right? Cool? Interesting maybe?


    It sounded like the kind of thing someone would say right before something really awful happened to you. And sure enough, it totally did.


    There he was¡ªthe "Viin," wrapped in glowing chains, sitting on a throne, looking like he''d rather be anywhere else.


    Across from him stood the "Hero," nked by not one, not two, but four "Heroines."


    To top it all off, floating between them was a giant projection¡ªa highlight reel of all his "evil," broadcasting his memories like it was prime-time entertainment.


    But now¡­ where do I, the narrator,e in all of this?


    You see that "Viin?" It''s me.


    I became him, taking over body and all.@@novelbin@@


    Certainly not my average Monday, that''s for sure.


    So you''re probably wondering how I ended up here, right?


    No? Doesn''t matter, let me tell you.


    It all started when¡­


    ***


    A man of obvious strength stood among the passing and going of a busy path, wearing a high-spec augmented suit.


    He wasn''t moving, just staring up at the darkening sky, golden eyes fixed on the ten moons high above.


    Judging by the irritated grumbles of people weaving around him, this wasn''t exactly out of the ordinary.


    Seemed like stopping dead to moon-gaze was his daily routine.


    He was a thorn in their otherwise monotonousmute and every word they sent his way they saw as justified.


    Who did this "retarded bastard" think he was¡ªa main character or something?


    Honestly, he just appeared like hecked a few chromosomes.


    But... unfortunately for them, none of their curses reached his ears.


    The man was simply too immersed in his thoughts.


    ''...Just what am I doing?''


    He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound, before shutting those thoughts down and starting to move, blending into the flow of people.


    Thest time he let himself spiral, things certainly hadn''t ended well.


    Shivering slightly, he shook his head and took a deep breath, calming himself.


    ''Yeah... never again.''


    With that, the man returned to his previous countenance, calm and steady.


    The sea of people guided him to a long queue, where those dressed like him had lined up.


    He went past them and approached what appeared to be an automaton, standing in the middle of the pathway.


    Without saying a word, he took out his terminal, a hand-sized mobile device, and hovered it over the automaton''s in face.


    A moment passed and...


    Beep!


    Its eyes lit up in green, as did its mouth, forming a smile.


    The sight was creepy, but it didn''t bother the man at all; in fact, he seemed to find it quiteical.


    "Sir Malik, one hundred Valora have been deposited in your ount. If there are any mistakes, be sure to reach out."


    He nodded at its words but didn''t move, noticing that it had more to say.


    "Thank you for your service, Sir Malik. We''re pleased to inform you that your clearance level has increased. You are now eligible to participate in S-Rank raids."


    Malik furrowed his brows, reacting quite negatively to the news of his promotion.


    "...Can I reject it?"


    "No."


    "I figured as much... Keep this off the record for me, yeah?"


    "Keep what¡ª"


    "Fuck you, that''s what."


    "..."


    "Thanks bud, have a nice day now."


    With a light tap on the automaton''s shoulder, he moved past it, following the crowd as if nothing had happened.


    It appeared that he had been expecting the news for a while now, yet it still didn''t sit right with him.


    It wasn''t that he wanted to stay in this Hellhole¡ªit was the alternative that made him pause.


    The reasoning wasn''t hard to piece together.


    Even though he didn''t know how they operated exactly, whatever horrors he faced here would be iparable to the ones in S-Rank raids.


    A promotion? No, this was nothing short of a death sentence.


    And Malik wasn''t keen on letting it y out.


    With another weary sigh¡ªone of many that day¡ªhe trudged onward, his footsteps leading him to yet another queue.


    This one was beside multiple others, each leading to rows of massive, highly reinforced buses with human-sized tires.


    Once another beep! resounded, the queue began to clear as everyone entered their respective bus.


    Malik climbed aboard, making his way to the back.


    He settled into a seat that was far morefortable than the sorry excuse for a bed he had back at the dorms.


    It wasn''t just the cushioning, though that certainly helped¡ªit was the location.


    The back.


    He had been a backbencher since birth, and for whatever reason, he always felt rxed there, nostalgic.


    Besides, it was the safest ce to be if a workmate of his decided to be a little spicy.


    Beep!


    With that all-familiar sound interrupting his thoughts, their bus driver announced in a robotic voice:


    "Destination, Dormitory A-10, ETA seven hours, seven minutes, and seven seconds. Enjoy the ride."


    Just as it stopped speaking, Malik looked outside, quietly observing the scenery as the bus began to move.


    Those next to him weren''t so sentimental.


    Most had taken out their terminals and began to mindlessly scroll, taking in data no more important than the grime beneath their feet, utter slop meant to be forgotten.


    The rest?


    Loud, obnoxious chatter filled the air, voices rising and falling as they bragged about their most recent dance with monsters and how they defeated them with minimal effort.


    One of them cooked up a story where he killed three monsters with a pen... yes, a fucking pen.


    Typical, exaggerated... none of it mattered¡ªnone of them seemed to care.


    Malik, meanwhile, wasmenting his situation and what his next steps had to be.


    ''Hahhh... I''ve got nothing to show for myself. Nothing for them, either. Maybe... just maybe, this is my chance. My chance to be a Celestial.''


    That final word carried a weight that made his chest tighten.


    He knew people¡ªmany much younger than him¡ªwho had already Ascended above mortality, bing Celestials.


    Some had struck it rich in some unknown Ruin, while others were propped up by a strong backing, all thanks to their good looks no doubt, a pretty face to disy in advertisements to attract investors.


    Their lives were the dream of many.


    But Malik?


    He was nearing thirty, still stuck in the starting position, unable to take the next step.


    ''Too bad my handsome mug sends those bastards running.''


    His lips curled into a wry grin.


    ''I could''ve even been a model for them~.''


    Chuckling quietly at his dumb joke, he nced at those beside him, then back at the wastnd.


    Malik was just like the rest of the dregs, a tiny cog in an otherwise unfathomable machine.


    He recognized that.


    Though he wasn''t bitter about it.


    ...Okay, maybe a little. But he''de to terms with his ce in the world.


    He was satisfied.


    Sure, he wasn''t rich, nor was he powerful, but at least he was contributing to something good.


    The protection of his people¡ªno matter how small his part in it might be.


    Slowly nodding his head, he appeared to havee to a decision, one that he kept within.


    Time ticked by, and soon the bus came to a smooth stop, exactly on time.


    "Arrived at Dormitory A-10."


    After a beep! the front and back doors hissed open.


    Malik waited his turn, letting everyone leave first.


    He didn''t see the need to rush; the dorm wasn''t going anywhere.


    Why they pushed each other around when it was all the same in the end was beyond him.


    But he just shrugged his shoulders and summed it up in one phrase:


    ''Human Nature.''


    When mostly everyone had gotten out, Malik finally stood, stretchingzily before hopping off.


    The pavement below lit up with a shing green trail, guiding him forward.


    He stuffed his hands into his pockets, following the path past the bus stop.


    While walking, his gaze wandered up to the buildings surrounding him, piercing the clouds in the sky.


    Stark, uninspiring blocks of reinforced concrete and steel, their identical designs blending into one monotonous backdrop.


    "WATCH OUT!"


    But just as he was about to look away, a man''s shout yanked his attention.


    He was on a hoverboard barreling straight toward him, threatening to crush his head.


    Malik''s eyes widened, and he stepped back with all his strength.


    His body flew for a moment, just barely dodging the man.


    But before he could even feel relief¡ª


    HOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!


    His heart sank.


    That desperate step of his had sent him right into oing traffic.


    If it were a cruiser or even some kind of sports car, he could''ve easily cleared it, but this...


    ''Oh, you''ve got to be kidding me.''


    It was a truck so massive that it took two wholenes of the road.


    ''Dammit!''


    Using the momentum from hisst step, he pushed off the ground hard, throwing himself into a backflip high up in the air.


    The top of his head barely missed scraping against the truck''s roof as it roared by, leaving only the rush of disced air in its wake.


    ''Close¡­ too close.''


    But, again, his relief was short-lived.


    Twisting his body and looking down, he saw exactly where he was going tond¡ªor rather, on whom.


    There was no time to avoid it, no time to even yell a warning.


    All he could do was brace for impact, raising his arms.


    Thud!


    The collision sent the poor guy flying like a rag doll, hitting the ground and rolling to a stop before a dumpster filled with trash.


    Maliknded a little more gracefully, but not by much, stumbling to his feet.


    "Shit¡­"


    He nced at the dazed figure sprawled out ahead of him.


    "Guess I''m buying him lunch after this."


    Malik was about to check up on him, but just as he began to crouch down, movement caught his eye¡ªa glint of steel nearing his head.


    ''OH COME ON!''


    It didn''t take a genius to piece it together.


    That poor guy had been someone''s target, and Malik, in all his unlucky glory, had just taken his ce.


    ''This''s what I get for being stingy.''


    Malik would''ve chuckled at the absurdity of what was happening, but he had no time to.


    He needed to figure out what to do in those fractions before the strike reached him.


    Only one thing came to mind.


    Throwing himself forward, he dropped to the ground.


    That was the right move, but it wasn''t fast enough.


    A moment before he could escape the dagger''s trajectory, it had reached him, easily going through his augmented suit''s force shield, as it had almost no energy, and grazed the back of his neck, deep, drawing blood.


    "Ugh¡ª!"


    In incredible pain, he rolled to his back, blood gushing and dripping as he barely stopped himself from groaning.


    ''Fuck me.''


    Clutching the wound, Malik fumbled for the emergency pills in his pocket.


    But of course, fate wasn''t done with him yet.


    Before he even had a chance to pull them out, he was interrupted once more.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    A scream from above made him freeze.


    His head tilted up, neck throbbing, to see a guy hurtling through the air face-first, iling like a deranged skydiver.


    Malik blinked.


    ''Seriously?''


    The guy was plummeting straight toward him.


    ''You''ve got to be kidding... am I dreaming?''


    He chuckled in disbelief, wondering what he did to anger the world so much.


    Giving up, he locked eyes with the screaming idiot, whose face twisted in terror as the ground rushed up to meet him.


    They were nk.


    ''...We''re both having a bad day, huh?''


    St!


    ***


    In a realm heavy with divinity, where void wasmonce, three beings stood in silence.


    The first was a figure of pure white, featureless, save for ''His'' eyes¡ªa deeper ck than the darkness surrounding them.


    They drew in everything,manding death.


    Beside ''Him,'' the embodiment of shadow took form, ''Her'' presence a swirling mass of endless depth.


    ''Her'' rubies of red held a stillness that felt eternal as if they saw the unseen.


    It wouldn''t be far from the truth, after all; darkness hid everything, and the night saw all.


    Before them, shrouded in a shifting blue ''fog,'' was another figure.


    Nothing but ''Her'' eyes were revealed¡ªtwo clocks of a deep blue.


    Their faces were devoid of hands or numbers, yet if looked at long enough, one would imagine a ticking hand


    Together, they gazed into a window through space suspended in the void below.


    It showed the scattered remains of Malik and the ''nameless,'' his head crushed beyond recognition.


    "Are you sure about him?"

 Chapter 2 Defeated Villain

    The man of pure white held ''His'' chin, seemingly pondering ''His'' decision.


    "I am. People with his mindset are rare."


    "Mhm... Are you sure it''s not because of his name~?"


    The ''fog'' covered Lady teased, and the two before ''Her'' shared augh.


    "Maybe..."


    ''He'' smiled, his lips widening to a degree beyond normal, maniacal almost.


    "But you can''t deny he fits the job."


    Ruby eyes nodded ''Her'' head, though ''She'' wasn''t seen, ''Her'' body no different from the void around ''Them.''


    "He does, but his mental strength is¡­cking. I''m sure we''ll see him struggle much more than the other candidates."


    The Lady''s eyes narrowed.


    "Right. Dealing with my Blessing is tough you know? The original one went insane, I doubt this one wouldn''t"


    The shadows turned to the man of white.


    "I''m sure you''ve already thought of this."


    ''He'' pointed at Malik.


    "Just watch him. ''Her'' Blessing is a non issue to guys like him."


    As if summoned by ''His'' words, another figure materialized from the dark, joining their space.


    Unlike the Lady of blue, this being was entirely shrouded in ''fog'' with tendrils of purple swirling as though alive.


    To an outsider, it might seem as though his ''fog'' shielded others from his presence, but the truth was the exact opposite.


    It was to protect him from seeing ''Them.''


    For if he did, death would be the least of his worries.


    ncing at the man of white, he asked:


    "Should I begin?"


    ''He'' nodded.


    "Please do."


    Snap...


    With a single flick of his fingers, a reverberation passed through the void.


    Then, under their collective gazes, Malik''s soul began to move, leaving what remained of its body behind.


    It was on a journey not to where Reapers usually took souls like it, the Nether''s River, but beyond, far deeper in the vast expanse of the universe.


    And there, where its destination was, four souls could be seen, waiting, specks of white on an otherwise bleak.


    "Good luck... I''m sure you''ll need it."


    ***


    Malik''s first thought when his soul stirred was pretty simple:


    ''Oh¡­ I''m actually dead.''


    He expected a rush of panic, regret, or maybe even some deep, emotional reflection about all the things he didn''t do.


    But nope. None of that. If anything, he felt¡­ curious.


    He wanted to know what''d happen next.


    Was it reincarnation? Unity with God? A day of judgment? A Heaven? A Hell? Devoured by a demon? Or just a in boring spiritual realm?


    ''Most people would probably cry about the stuff they didn''t get to do. Like, oh no, I never dove ruin whatever, or, I never told Stacy from Sector Management I loved her...''


    His thoughts paused.


    ''Kinda wish that I did actually... ah, wait.''


    Malik realized that he had just contradicted himself.


    ''I''m a hypocrite, so what? Sue me!''


    But yeah, he shook his metaphorical head and continued:


    ''Screw Stacy. What''s happening next sounds way more interesting.''


    It was hard to describe the sensation of floating through the universe as a soul.


    He couldn''t see anything. Couldn''t feel anything tangible.


    It was like being blind in the deepest part of an ocean, the pressure so immense he should''ve been crushed a thousand times over.


    Or, better yet, it was like being a sperm cell inside a vagina the size of a gxy, swimming aimlessly, hoping for an egg to inhabit.


    ''That''s probably not the metaphor anyone else would''ve gone for, but hey, it works.''


    Time was weird here.


    It stretched and bent, and Malik wasn''t sure if minutes had passed or centuries.


    He didn''t feel bored, though. If anything, he felt¡­ aware?


    Yes, hyper-aware of the vast nothingness around him.


    It was like being on the edge of something monumental, except the edge never ended.


    But eventually, like all good things, that awareness began to fade, reced by a kind of dullness.


    His thoughts slowed, his curiosity dimmed, and for a moment, he wondered if he was just bing part of the void itself.


    Tobat that, he began to cook up theories, busy his mind, and the main one sounded quite pheasable.


    ''Maybe this is on purpose... Like, a way to prep me for whatever''s next. Or most likely it''s some bored god screwing with me for fun.''


    Malik leaned more towards thetter, but he could easily bet that either of them was true.


    He would''ve kept spiraling down that rabbit hole of existential dread but change began to ur.


    It was subtle at first, a flicker of sensation in the void.@@novelbin@@


    Then, without warning, everything rushed back.


    Light, sound, feeling¡ªit all hit him like that truck almost did.


    And suddenly, Malik wasn''t floating anymore.


    He was in something.


    His fingers twitched. His lungs sucked in a sharp breath.


    ''Oh.''


    His eyes snapped open.


    ''I''ve got a body again.''


    But before he could even think of celebrating, his fate of being interrupted continued:


    "I, Zafar, announce that this VILLAIN is defeated!"


    Malik blinked.


    ''...What?''

 Chapter 3 BASSOR�H!

    Malik''s vision was still adjusting to the fancy hall he found himself in, confused as to what the Hell had just happened.


    But even then, when he didn''t know right from left, he heard the man''s voice loud and clear.


    "I, Zafar, announce that this VILLAIN is defeated!"


    He was a viin? Since when? And who the fuck was he to¡ª


    ''I know him.''


    Malik joined the trend and cut his own thoughts off as information; no... memories about this twink of a man resurfaced.


    Zafar Al-Nadir.


    A figure he could only describe as obnoxiously heroic.


    A goody-two-shoes, an ignorant hypocrite, a naive and incredibly lucky bastard that had all his shit handed to him.


    The very antithesis of Malik.


    Truly, a fitting "hero" of this story.


    His looks weren''t too bad either, unlike a certain someone.


    He was lean, dressed inyers of vibrant fabric with golden embroidery, mimicking a people of old.


    A curved de, far too fancy for properbat, was strapped to his hip.


    His face was decently handsome, eyes a soft brown, his hair white, reaching his neck.


    He held his head high, looking down at Malik, his smile annoyingly perfect.


    ''This guy''s definitely the main character of whatever mess I''m in.''


    Zafar was the head of a grand coalition, a patchwork of different guilds united for one single purpose: to kill the "Viin."


    And judging by the state of Malik''s body¡ªor what he guessed was his body¡ªZafar had seeded.


    But Zafar wasn''t the only one of importance... he wasn''t the only ''character'' in this ''y.''


    And that was to be expected; after all, what was a "hero" without his "heroines?"


    Standing beside him, fuming with resentment, was Huda.


    His own fucking sister.


    Her pink eyes twitched repeatedly as she barely stopped her tears from flowing.


    She was just that angry, giving Malik a look that would kill him a million times over if it could.


    Huda was a petite girl, her hair crimson, long enough to reach her waist.


    It blended quite nicely with the royal pink dress she wore.


    ''...Why?''


    As Malik took in her appearance, his stomach twisted.


    Memories bubbled up again, like a half-forgotten dream, unbidden and painful.


    She wasn''t just some Noble. She was the head of a family of Sultans, Al-Sayf, rulers of sand and sun, wielders of an unfathomable number of Magi.


    And now, she stood against him.


    Against her own brother.


    The next figure had a presence that was impossible to ignore.


    She was the only one sitting, and her throne wasn''t even on the ground.


    It was high up, near the hall''s ceiling, looking over everything.


    Noor Al-Ayan, the reincarnated princess.


    Unlike the others, she carried herself with an air of detached amusement, like this entire scene was a y staged for her entertainment.


    It was a mask, sure, but the others couldn''t even manage that.


    She wore a Beh, a fitted top, a hip belt, and a full-length skirt.


    It was wildly out of ce among the shared aesthetic.


    Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her eyes hidden by a veil that covered her face.


    Malik remembered her too.


    She was once a student of his; now? The owner of the most famouspany on the, an empire that dwarfed kingdoms in influence and wealth.


    A system came with her reincarnation¡ªa gift from whatever cosmic dice roll hadnded her here¡ªmade her untouchable. Unstoppable.


    Well... at least to anyone except Malik.


    The fourth figure made him feel an unceable emotion.


    Roya Al-Ra''i, the broker of secrets. A regressor, and also an ex-student.


    She didn''t shine like the others, didn''t radiate power or royalty.


    Instead, she was quiet, almost unassuming, her blonde hair typical, her white robes making her out to be like any other person there.


    But her blue eyes¡­ they were sharper than anyone else''s.


    Malik remembered them vividly.


    After all, she was the one who brought everything together, the one who ensured his chains were unbreakable, a Holy Relic, one of the Ten Commandments.


    Roya wasn''t just an information broker; she was THE information broker.


    Her guild spanned the entire, her web of spies and informants unrivaled.


    Nothing happened on Fam Iblis without Roya knowing about it.


    And now, she stood against him too.


    Finally, there was Safira Al-Hayat, a transmigrator.


    If Roya''s presence was a quiet storm, Safira''s was a gentle breeze.


    She stood with an air of kindness, motherly almost, her soft features and flowing green dress almost at odds with the cruelty of the world they lived in.


    Her long ginger hair shimmered, making Malik remember the countless people who had called her the "Fairy of Devil''s Maw."


    Unlike the others, she wasn''t only his student; she was his sole disciple.


    That thought hit Malik harder than he expected.


    She had once looked up to him, trusted him, even admired him... but now?


    Now she stood with the others holding a de above his neck, her green eyes filled not with anger but with pity.


    ''I don''t need your pity.''


    Malik clenched his fists¡ªor at least, he tried to, but couldn''t.


    His body was chained, knees dug into the ground, his arms spread out like a sacrificialmb.


    The chains covered him from head to toe, originating from a broken fabric of space.


    He tried to move, struggle, and push against them, but his body felt dead as if he had zero control over it.


    Malik could only breathe, blink, and look, like a man on his deathbed.


    But then, just as he was about to pause his thoughtless attempts at escape, like a ghost rising from the grave, a man appeared.


    Malik''s eyes immediately tracked him, but none of the others before him did, quickly making him realize that only he could see him.


    The man had an appearance simr to Malik''s, though taller, much more handsome and scar-free.


    He had ear-length golden hair with flicks of red and a tail-like end that reached his lower back.


    His eyes were a bright gold, not the beautiful kind of gold, but the kind that made your very soul shiver.


    Though Malik wasn''t as affected by them, likely due to the man''s current state, appearing like a faded photograph, his body translucent.


    ''You''re in my body.''


    Malik blinked, unsure how to respond.


    ''Uh¡­ yeah, I kinda noticed that.''@@novelbin@@


    The man chuckled, his voice weary.


    ''I''ve been hanging on for a while, but I''m done... Now this is your problem to deal with.''


    ''Wait, what?''


    Malik stared at him.


    ''You''re just¡­ handing your body over? No fight? No big plot twist? Like, ''Here you go, buddy, enjoy the mess''?!''


    The man shrugged, his form already starting to dissolve.


    ''I''ve had enough... I just want to rest. But don''t worry¡­''


    He paused, a faint smile ying on his lips.


    ''You''ll remember everything when I''m gone.''


    Before Malik could protest, the man''s body shimmered, breaking apart into tiny specks of light.


    Some of those lights drifted toward him, sinking into his chest.


    What he didn''t notice, though, was a few stray ones¡ªpink and ck¡ªslipping into him too.


    And sure enough, the floodgates opened.


    Memories surged through him¡ªimages, emotions, knowledge¡ªall crashing into his mind like a tidal wave.


    He saw everything the man had experienced, everything he had done, everything that had led to this moment.


    And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over.


    Malik was no longer just himself. He was someone else too, a ''Viin.'' A man contradictory to himself.


    He looked back at the five who stood before him, the ones who killed the original owner of this body.


    Slowly, something dark and visceral bubbled up inside him.


    Rage.


    Unforgiving, unrelenting rage.


    His gaze bore into them, his body trembling.


    He wanted to scream, to shout, to curse them all.


    ''I WON''T FORGIVE YOU!''


    But unfortunately, his roar was heard only within his mind.


    Malik wanted to end their lives right at that very moment, but, again...


    He was trapped, powerless.


    Yet his eyes did show helplessness, not even close.


    ''...Just how can I get out of this?


    And then, as if answering his very thoughts, a voice resounded.


    It was deep. Dangerous. Alluring.


    {Would you like to witness your real history, your Path?}


    Malik''s breath hitched.


    The voice''s power was intoxicating, impossible to resist.


    {Would you like to make it past your Promised Day?}


    ''...I do.''


    {Would you like to be a True King?}


    ''I DO!''


    {If so, repeat after me¡­}


    {Bassor¨¡h1.}


    ''BASSOR¨¡H!''


    {...}


    "..."


    {...}


    "..."


    {...}


    "..."


    Many paths came together.


    The world paused.


    Bassor-¨¡h means "where many pathse together."

 Chapter 4 A Paused World

    Nothing could move, absolutely nothing.


    Not Malik, not Zafir, not Huda, not Noor, not Roya, not Safira... not even the''s sun.


    A star so massive that it baked Devil Maw''s surface like an oven would a candle was paused, its heat unfelt.


    Then, all of a sudden, Malik began to shift, not his body but his soul, moving bit by bit as if he were a stone statueing back to life.


    Tick Tock...


    The sound of a clock resounded, and Malik''s soul had finally gotten out of its confines, leaving his body a hollow husk.


    ''Fuck just happened?!''


    He looked around, quickly realizing that he was now floating a small distance above his body, just where a king''s throne was ced.


    Malik tried to fly away, thinking of inhabiting a less... controversial body, but noticed that even now, in his soul form, he was trapped.


    Two ethereal chains bound him to his body, locked around his feet.


    ''Huh, my soul looks like his now.''


    Only then, when he looked down on his body, did he notice an obvious difference.


    He was no longer a floating speck of light, but an actual humanoid with an appearance simr to that of the Original Malik.


    ''Nice... I''m a handsome bastard at least.''


    With those thoughts, he began to experiment, and soon, came to a few conclusions.


    Though he was now free to fly about, he couldn''t get far as the chains attached to him had a limit¡ªabout ten meters, give or take.


    And honestly? He wasn''t in the mood to find out what kind of cosmic paintrain would hit if he yanked on it too hard.


    Still, the chain wasn''t what really interested him.


    The whole time-freeze thing was way more interesting¡ªand freaky.


    Everything around him was stuck in ce, frozen mid-motion, like someone had hit the "pause" button on the universe, leaving him the only one moving.


    And then there was the whole "out-of-body" thing.


    It was wild.


    Floating there, untethered except for the chain, Malik felt like he''d identally wandered into some bizarre VR game.


    He could see himself from the outside, like he was in third-person mode, but it was still him. Trippy.


    ''Like I''m some kinda God or something¡­''


    That thought made him pause.@@novelbin@@


    However long ago, he wasn''t even a Celestial, but now, he said things like that with a straight face.


    A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but then he shook his head quickly.


    ''Nope, not going there.''


    That was how bad ideas snowballed into worse ones.


    ''Focus.''


    Malik looked around again, waiting for something¡ªanything¡ªto happen.


    And¡­


    Nothing.


    Absolutely nothing.


    ''Hm... maybe I should¡ª''


    He decided on what to do, or rather say, mid-thought:


    ''Bassor¨¡h.''


    Ding~!


    A somehow familiar sound resounded in his mind, and a Script appeared once more.


    {Embodiment System has been bound... Malik, you are hereby pronounced as a Blessed Magi of the Lady Of Time.}


    Blessed? Magi? Lady Of Time?


    Malik didn''t know what any of that meant, though that didn''t stop him from guessing.


    The first was easy; he had been Blessed by whoever brought his soul here, and that likely gave him the system in some way or another.


    Magi sounded like what people called Celestials in thisnd; now whether it was just a faraway or a whole different universe, he didn''t yet know.


    Thest was obviously the perpetrator, at least the one that didn''t mind ''Her'' name being known, as the one truly in charge was likely hidden behind the scenes, a puppeteer stringing this y along.


    As if it had been waiting for his thoughts to settle, the Script continued to write just as he reached a conclusion:


    {Your life is now in your hands... The more you embody Malik, the stronger you be, reaching the heights you once flew.]


    ''Wait, we''ve got the same¡ª''


    {Malik...}


    The Script had joined the trend as well.


    {They''ll see your truth. They''ll see everything you''ve done for them. They''ll see how you''ve be a "viin," the death you''ve endured. Many of them will cry, beg, and scream; some mightugh it off, and a few others would act indifferent, cringe at your sacrifice, but you... I need you to remain strong. Don''t run away from it. Don''t falter like he did.}


    His face turned serious, almost nk, and he looked up, straightening his legs and bowing deeply.


    "Lady of Time... thank you for this second chance. Whatever you''re after, I promise I won''t disappoint."


    {...We''ll see.}


    The Script crumbled and then disappeared as if it had never existed.


    And just like that, everything clicked.


    Malik didn''t need to overthink it anymore.


    No need to strategize or dissect this so-called "system" of his, or whatever other fancy name it went by.


    It was simple now¡ªpainfully simple.


    All he had to do was embody the memories of the original Malik.


    Live through them, survive them, and somehow w his way back out with his sanity still intact.


    His survival beyond the Promised Day¡ªthe day after his scheduled execution¡ªhinged entirely on this.


    And while it sounded straightforward when one said it like that, anyone with half a brain would know it was anything but.


    ''Figures... I wasn''t wrong in my assumptions; two are right. A devil swallowed me whole, and now I''m stuck in hell.''


    He smiled.


    ''Bassor¨¡h.''


    The world had returned to truth, and soon, a Sultan''s life would be on disy for all to see.

 Chapter 5 ...Beggar?

    ***


    The world''s protagonist, the "hero," surrounded by beauties on each side, continued to smugly look down at the "viin."


    Zafar could feel Malik''s life force continuously bing weaker, and he loved that feeling.


    It felt as if he''d just repeatedly hit the jackpot at a casino, the house always in his favor.


    Though it was unfortunate that they couldn''t see his face, as it was wrapped in chains, his enjoyment was unaffected.


    With his current power, Malik had no chance of escaping; their victory was assured.


    Now, they only had to wait for ten days, watch as the "viin," who had tormented their lives, died a dog''s death.


    But still, most of them didn''t let their guard down.


    The man before them was unlike any other¡ªan uncontested Sultan for many hundreds of years.


    He was bound to have a trick or two up his sleeve, hidden behind the thousand he had already disyed.


    As long as his head wasn''t on a spike, most of them wouldn''t be at ease.


    Malik was just that terrifying.


    His pce, his very execution ground, showed that in spades.


    It was the most sacred ce, coveted by all in Fam Ibless, a ce of worship, of peace, yet now...


    Not a single surface was clean of blood; it could be seen everywhere, even dripping in some areas where dead bodiesy in the tens of thousands.


    A one-sided massacre had taken ce, and all of it was done by one man.


    Alone.


    Right, he had killed tens of thousands of Magi by himself.


    Such a feat was simply unheard of; no Sultan in history had evene close to it, and many among them were warmongers, so it certainly wasn''t due to their different mentalities, just ack of strength.


    The people weren''t told what rank he was, but they could guess quite easily.


    Malik was a ss-Three of the third sub-rank.


    He was one breakthrough away from bing a ss-Two...


    A Mal¨¡k, a literal Angel.


    Such a thing many could not yet fathom.


    How they had defeated him, even with one of the Ten Commandments, was beyond them.


    It was a miracle.


    No one but that shameless Zafar would im otherwise:


    "You saw how I moved?! The viin couldn''t even track my sword!"


    The women beside him had already left, each now in their own group, forcing his bunch of yes-men to rece them.


    "Ahahahaha! No doubt he was astonished by you, lord!"


    "I believe the same! Bastard was too distracted by your magnificence that the trap worked perfectly."


    "He didn''t know what hit him!"


    Their words flowed one after the other as if it was choreographed, and that might as well have been the truth judging by their flinching brows.


    "I''m telling you, only I deserve the viin''s crown!"


    None the wiser, Zafar continued to gloat, hoping for one of the "heroines" to bite the bait, join him to converse, yet none did, all too busy doing actual work.


    While the bastard tried to show himself as popr when Malik was awake, the girls didn''t really like him, at least not in that way.


    Huda was the closest one to him, as he found her the easiest to woo, but even she was a hard nut to crack.


    Her obsession with her brother took over most of her life, even when she tried to act like it didn''t.


    "What do you think, Huda? Does your brother''s crown fit me?"


    Disengaging from a conversation with a woman who looked very simr to her, she turned to Zafar, ring.


    Those words certainly weren''t the most sensitive, and unfortunately for everyone around him, it appeared as if it had been the norm, as his yes-men looked away, pretending to have heard nothing.


    "You wish to be Sultan?"


    Zafar quirked a brow, somehow surprised that his words were taken in such a way.


    "N-No... well..."


    He nced at those in the hall, his goons, his yes-men, people of his coalition, and they nodded at him, conveying what was needed.


    "Actually, I am. There''s no better than me; besides, I''m the only g¡ª"


    "Quiet."


    Noor, who remained seated on her throne, shut Zafar down at once, the pressure imitating from her bending his men''s bodies.


    Though the girl didn''t seem like she had a horse in this race, arguably after Roya, she wanted Malik dead the most.


    She even took the help of Zafar, a man that she hated like no other but had to get along with to keep things flowing.


    But now, as the deed was finally done, she didn''t need to keep up appearances.


    Zafar had fulfilled his purpose; maintaining rtions further would only harm her, making her lose a brain cell or two each time they talked.


    "W-What?"


    He looked at her in surprise, not expecting that treatment from her at all.


    Though she was always cold to him, keeping him at a distance, she had never been so rude.


    But before he could confront her about that, a change had urred...


    A shing light of white appeared above Malik, coalescing randomly.


    Everyone without exception looked at it in horror, immediately expecting the worst.


    "...How? Even Gods can be bound to its chains."


    Roya was the one most terrified, as she knew full well the capability of such a Holy Relic.


    There were only nine others like it in the whole universe, reaching a rank that was quite literally named {Broken Grade.}


    That showed just how impossible it was to escape its shackles, but here she was, being proven wrong while unable to do anything about it.


    "I-Is this really happening?!"


    "Impossible! Even if he had be a Mal¨¡k, there''s no getting out of it!"


    "No, he''s Shaytan''s Sultan! That sphemous being hade to help him escape!"


    "Should we attack?!"


    "I say we kill him before Shaytan gets here!"


    Men screamed like little children in a yground, repeating the same question but hesitating to take a single step.


    No one was brave enough, well, no one except the main characters.


    Roya dashed in front of them before they could even move, stopping them in their tracks.


    "Don''t forget the w you imbeciles!"


    They stuttered, stepping back as her sharp words rang in their ears.


    "O-oh yeah, sorry, Lady Roya."


    "My apologies, Lady Roya."@@novelbin@@


    That went on for a while, as they finally calmed back down, turning to face Malik once more.


    And it was good that they did, as beneath their astonished and fearful gazes, he, Malik, the Shaytan''s Sultan, the world''s viin, had begun to move.


    His arms, which were stretched on either side of his shoulders, had lowered, reaching his thighs, tensioning the chains even further.


    Then, his right leg went up, allowing him to put his foot on the ground.


    He was no longer on his knees, making it the first time for many to notice his hulking size.


    Standing up, he moved forward, slowly, very slowly. His destination? The throne. His throne.


    The chains rattled and pulled against him, but they were powerless to stop his advance.


    It was as if he was no longer within their grasp, casually walking against their might.


    Each step echoed louder than thest, hammering into the crowd''s ears like a countdown.


    After what felt like forever¡ªbut was only a minute¡ªhe stopped in front of his rightful ce.


    Without so much as a nce at the crowd, he turned and lowered himself into it like he''d been sitting there his whole life, which he was.


    One arm drapedzily over the armrest, the other resting on his knee.


    His back leaned into the plush cushions, but his posture? Still allmand and nopromise.


    Then his chin tilted up just enough as if to tell everyone a few words:


    "I own this ce."


    They couldn''t see his face, but they knew that he was looking down at them; they could feel his golden eyes trained on them... judging them, dismissing them.


    It was infuriating. Insulting. Just revolting.


    And they especially hated how much they couldn''t look away, as if their minds subconsciously acknowledged that to be the truth.


    Just then, at the same point where the thousands in the hall looked, the light above him finally condensed, exploding into a blinding sh, flooding the hall and forcing them to shield their eyes.


    Many wanted to scream, thinking that they were under attack, but they held it in, believing in the Holy Relic, in Roya.


    And they were right in doing that, as this wasn''t an attack, far from it.


    Once the light subsided, a new addition to the hall could be seen.


    Between Malik and them, a holographic-like screen had materialized, disying a seemingly familiar face.


    It was a young, malnourished Malik, around twelve years of age.


    He wore tattered robes, sitting on the ground, beside a busy street, repeatedly asking a question that they all could hear as if the screen spoke to their minds directly:


    "Could you spare some change?"


    There was no doubting it.


    They now, for whatever reason, were watching Malik''s memories.


    And it turned out, the man they had all feared was a... beggar?

 Chapter 6 Two Little Ones

    Malik was indeed a beggar.


    Everyone could see and hear that.


    None doubted its legitimacy.


    They couldn''t, no matter how contradictory Malik appeared to be.


    This projection before them was the work of the Holy Relic itself.


    Otherwise, the sheer strength it emanated wouldn''t make any modicum of sense.


    They all felt like they were standing before God.


    It was a power just that absolute.


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Many hundreds kneeled, their heads crashing to the ground as they prostrated.


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Those two words shook the pce, echoing with each following roar:


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Most remained standing, less religious, and more doubtful.


    They looked at those prostrating with disdain, as the scene made it appear that they were praying to Malik, the very Viin they swore to kill.


    The five main characters showed no such emotion, however.


    Their eyes remained on the screen, simply transfixed by what they were seeing.


    THAT Malik, a man who''d choose death before even asking someone for a favor, a man prouder than anyone had any right to be... he was begging for change.


    Just... what?


    They were speechless.


    But Noor had gotten out of that state quite quickly, and a certain thought began to form:


    ''Malik is evil, that''s undeniable, but still, his memories... they could be useful; it''s not every day you see a Sultan''s life.''


    A few others had stumbled upon simr thoughts as well, and their interest in the long movie they were about to watch increased tenfold.


    Some of the dumber ones weren''t interested, deeming his memories aption of genocide and manughter.


    The rest of the main characters, however, were a bit more emotional.


    Huda, as obsessed as she was, wanted to know why.


    Why did Malik betray her?


    She HAD to know.


    And sure enough, Malik was eager to let her find out.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Please, a few coins would do; I haven''t eaten in days..."


    Malik repeated under the shade of arge building, its green-colored onion-like dome shielding him from the blistering heat of the sun-like star they called Shams.


    His back was on its sto walls, which looked smooth and sandy like they were made from sun-dried y or limestone.


    "Just one would do, kind sirs, please."


    People walked by in the streets before him without even giving him a single nce.


    Carriages filled with food, barrels of alcohol, andmonly used items went past, pulled by domesticated monsters in the shape of camels, revealing their high levels of wealth.


    Yet none of their owners stopped, their minds ignoring his cries as if it were the passing of wind.


    Malik sighed and leaned his head back on the wall, eyes staring up at the blue sky where twelve moons could barely be seen.


    ''Another spot it is...''


    Pushing himself up, he grabbed a wooden stick that sat near him and began to walk, stumbling after each step, his bony legs unable to carry him.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The crowd was speechless.


    This was the Viin''s life when he was young?


    Where was the evil?


    Many imed him to be a devil spawn, but he just looked like a pitiful child with a mind way beyond his years.


    "He seriously can''t be the Sultan, can he? It''s just..."


    No one wanted to say the quiet part out loud, but it was obvious to everyone here.


    Pitiful.


    If they ignored what Malik had der on, now, they could clearly feel that one emotion.


    But not all felt that way.


    Those more aggrieved felt regret.


    If they only knew who he was and who he would be back then, they would''ve quickly ended his life.


    It was better for all, his suffering would cease and millions of people would remain among the living.


    Roya was of that mindset.


    After regressing, she searched far and wide for Malik but found nothing of his origin.


    Who would''ve known that he lived in that Godforsaken district, just beside the center of their, the abyssal hole that devoured all, Al-Fawra?


    She was sure that if she did, his district wouldn''t have existed by the end of the day.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik stuck to the shaded areas so as to not lose whatever water he had left in him and made his way further into the district.


    The more he walked, the worse the buildings had gotten.


    Many leaned into each other like drunkards after a long night.


    Some had balconies held up by beams that looked ready to snap, their wooden railings decorated with colorful but faded fabrics flutteringzily.


    Others had their walls painted in garish patterns that might''ve been beautiful once but now looked like someone had thrown a fight with a paintbrush.


    This district was called Zawaya, known as the mixing pot of all that was illegal on Fam Iblis.


    Smugglers, ouws, and ve traders¡ªjust anyone who wanted to get rich off less than legal means.


    Malik seemed used to the ce, itsyout memorized, his routes allowing him to reach Suq Al-Khamis with no issues.


    It was a Market za where many stalls sat on either side of the road, vendors hollering over each other to sell their wares.


    "Get your spices here! Fresh from the Southern Dunes!"


    The stall nearest to him was a mess of y jars and woven baskets, all filled to the brim with colorful powders¡ªreds, yellows, and greens that almost glowed under the sunlight.


    The vendor was waving a handful of dried herbs like they were gold.


    And opposite that stall was the reason why he hade here.


    It was a kebab shop.


    God, the smell.


    Sweet, tangy, and spicy scents from grilled skewers and bubbling pots mixed with the sharp stink of rotting herbs, flour, and whatever the guy two stalls down was selling out of those suspicious wooden barrels.


    The heat made it worse, turning the air into a sticky soup that clung to your skin, but still, he quite liked it, at least it was better than nothing.


    Malik was just so damn hungry, he felt full from the smell alone.


    It satiated his senses for a long moment, allowing him to hold on for a bit more.


    He could''ve asked them for a piece or even leftovers thrown in the trash, but he didn''t dare get close to the vendors.


    They would beat him to death''s door if they saw him.


    It wasn''t because he stole from them; he never did, never, but because it was "bad for business."


    And they weren''t wrong.


    Malik was thin, too thin, his rib cage showing, and his face? It was sunken and pale, unlike most around him, which had darker skin tones, making him feel alien.


    Yeah... his appearance certainly wasn''t going to bring any customers.@@novelbin@@


    It might even drive them out, but he knew better than to let that happen.


    Malik remained quiet and just stared at thoseing and going, his eyes doing the talking, the begging.


    He was tiptoeing around the unspoken rules, doing all that he could to survive.


    Thankfully, it had worked, as a man eating a freshly baked tbread from the kebab stall threw it his way like he was throwing garbage in a trash can.


    Malik didn''t care about that, not one bit; he caught the half-eaten bread with both hands and repeatedly bowed to the man.


    "T-Thank you! Thank you so much, kind sir!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "The Viin seems to have been shrewd since young."


    "Yeah, it''s no wonder he reached such heights."


    That was themon consensus among those watching.


    They couldn''t help but admire the ingenuity of the young boy in front of them.


    "Maybe that''s where his resentment started."


    Others began to theorize, deeming themselves smart enough to predict the story while most stayed quiet, still in disbelief.


    This before them was their Sultan, a man who ruled over the entire, and he was now bowing his head for a piece of bread.


    Huda was most affected by this as she knew well what wasing next.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The man didn''t even look at Malik and kept walking, but again, Malik didn''t mind, continuing to bow his head.


    Once the man was out of sight, Malik straightened his back, patted his torn robes, sighed, and pushed himself up.


    He then walked to the alleyway to his left, wanting to eat his meal in peace.


    But just as he turned the corner, he noticed two figures covered by a small pile of sand further ahead.


    Malik blinked.


    "...Dead?"


    No, they weren''t.


    He could see them groan and twitch, like a fish''sst moments out of water.


    Malik stayed still for a moment, then nced behind him, then back at the two little ones.


    A decision seemed to have formed as he put away the food.

 Chapter 7 Beautiful Sacrifice

    "...Sorry."


    With one final nce, Malik began to walk away.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "I KNEW IT!"


    Huda felt a huge wave of relief watching as her brother left them for dead.


    She always wondered if something she did had changed him, or if their brother''s death had broken his heart.


    It ate her up inside, as she wanted something to me... anything¡ªanything but herself.


    And this in front of her was an out, one that shetched on to with all that she was.


    Malik was never kind; he just pretended to be.


    All their life together was a lie... she... she wasn''t wrong to kill him.


    ''Right?''


    The others weren''t going through the same mental gymnastics that she had.


    Rather, they only saw his decision as something natural, expected.@@novelbin@@


    It was a beast-eat-beast world out there, especially for those less fortunate.


    His survival was in question every second that he breathed; adding two kids to the equation would prove too difficult for him to solve.


    They would die, and he would too, so if they were in his ce, they would''ve done the same.


    The fact that he was hesitating had already surprised them enough.


    But then, what happened next had shut them up and made them feel shame.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The pitiful boy stopped just as he was about to exit the alleyway.


    He tried to move but couldn''t; his weak fists clutched in a protest against himself.


    His rational side demanded his body to leave, but his heart couldn''t bear leaving those two kids to die.


    After a trembling sigh escaped him, his trembling had stopped, and he calmly looked back.


    "I''m too kind for my own good."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Everyone without exception nced at Huda and her early celebration.


    Usually, that would''ve made her embarrassed, but their thoughts about her were thest thing on her mind at that moment.


    She made herself believe that Malik had never loved them, that he cared for them only to benefitter on, their lives an investment, but now she couldn''t deny the obvious truth.


    No, she couldn''t have survived without his help, and yes, he had saved them knowing that death would be the likely result.


    At least at first, her brother truly cared her...


    ''Just why?''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik walked up to the two and kneeled next to the sprawled figures.


    One was a six-year-old girl, and the other was a seven or eight-year-old boy.


    Both had pink hair, and their faces were just like his, pale, a sight that he wasn''t used to.


    But that was where the simrities ended


    Their cheeks were chubby, their bodies with a healthy amount of fat, and their clothes were brand new.


    He didn''t know where they hade from but those two weren''t beggars, that was for sure.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Lady Huda?!"


    "You knew the Viin since young?"


    "Is that why you call him ''brother?''"


    "And who is that other boy? I''m sure he''s as popr as you are!"


    "Please exin Lady Huda!"


    Ah, it seemed that many people still didn''t make the connection.


    "What dumbasses..."


    She muttered, only for her family to hear, then roared:


    "The Viin is my brother no longer! Now enough questions!"


    That had shut them up, as no one wanted to talk back against the head of Al-Sayf.


    Or that would''ve been the case if La, Malik''s ex-wife, wasn''t there.


    "Can you really say that with all your heart?"


    Huda''s body stuttered as she looked to the side, eyesnding on a dark-skinned woman with golden irises, like a cat''s, and long purple hair that flowed along her slender back.


    She wore an all-ck mourning dress that hid all her undoubtedly bountiful curves.


    "La, now you want to speak? After everything''s said and done?"


    The woman let out a sad chuckle.


    "Like his disciple, Lady Safira, today I''ve onlye as an observer... though he betrayed me, annihted my family, he was once my husband. I won''t fight him."


    "Then¡ª"


    "Please."


    La cut her off with a raised palm and said:


    "I''ve given you an answer. Give me mine."


    Huda showed a face of obvious struggle as she tried to think up what to say.


    "I... you... What do you even mean by that?!"


    Shaking her head in disappointment, La looked away, her eyes returning to the screen.


    "Nothing, Lady Huda, just... nothing."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik had checked their breathing and quickly realized that death had nearly embraced them.


    They needed water, fast.


    Malik shoved his right hand into his robes and took out a gourd.


    He looked at it for a few moments, unconsciously gulped, then uncapped it.


    Picking up the girl''s head with his left, he parted her lips with his right, angled her neck, and began to slowly pour the water on her tongue.


    She, though out of it, managed to gulp down the water, desperately.


    Once he paused, her lips spasming for more, begging, but he gave them none.


    It was her brother''s turn.


    The boy reacted much the same, but again, Malik couldn''t afford to spoil them, capping the gourd and securing it beneath his robes in the strap that bound his pants.


    He had to ration it; those two had drunk an entire month''s worth, leaving barely any water tost them until next week.


    "Alright, now food."


    Malik set his makeshift cane aside, and picked up the two, leaving them leaning on the wall to his right.


    With the gentlest of motions, he broke apart the now cold bread and began to feed it to them, piece by little piece, like a mother bird and its little chicks.


    It was a beautiful scene, one that showed his first sacrifice for them... his kindness.


    The two stayed still, only their mouths moving, munching away at the carbs entering their bodies.


    Not long after, when barely any of the bread was left, Malik had some for himself, a piece no bigger than his palm.


    That was going to be his only meal for that day, yet he didn''t seem to have anyints.


    Just then, while he was dusting his hand off the flour, the boy''s eyelids fluttered open, revealing two bright pinks.


    "...You... who are you? What do you want with us?"

 Chapter 8 Cute Little Smile

    Well, that wasn''t a nice way of saying thank you, was it?


    Malik chuckled, knowing better than to say his thoughts out loud.


    "You can rx, kid; I''m risking my life by saving you."


    The boy rubbed his eyes and leaned forward, looking around in confusion.


    "W-Where are we?"


    Joining the wall beside him, Malik leaned back and simply answered:


    "The Zawaya district, a den of bastards."


    The boy offered no reaction to those words, showing that he had no idea where the hell he was because if he knew, he would''ve long since begun to panic.


    "You don''t belong here... You and your sister''s clothes are too fancy. How the fuck did you end up here? Where are your guards? And what are your parents even thinking?"


    Stunned by the barrage of questions, the boy mmed up and looked down.


    "...I... I-I... I¡ª"


    Malik tapped his shoulder, saving the boy from his self-induced stroke.


    "It''s fine; don''t worry about it. You don''t need to answer."


    The boy looked at him with a fearful gaze.


    "R-Really?"


    "Yes, really, now wake your sister up; we have to get to shelter before sundown."


    "Okay!"


    Malik stood up and limped to his stick while the boy shook his sister like an alcoholic before a coin pusher in an arcade.


    The poor girl woke up in a daze, flinching slightly as her brother spoke:


    "Sis! Wake up! A kind man is helping us; please wake up before he changes his mind."


    He was right to worry, but the "man" they were dealing with wasn''t going to abandon them.


    Malik wasn''t one to leave something halfplete; he saved their lives, and that made him responsible for them.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Shame wasn''t enough to cover it.


    Everyone who believed he would leave them behind, or at least supported that decision, had their heads lowered like the boy of a few seconds earlier.


    Not only because the two had turned out to be of the Al-Sayf family, with the younger of the two now standing alongside them, but also because a boy hundreds of years younger than them had chosen a harder path.


    One that they, in all their respective might and intellect, were too afraid to take.


    Or perhaps it would be urate to call it risk-averse, as even the bravest of them, who stood in the front to fight Shaytan''s Sultan, picked the safer option.


    It was logical; it should''ve been the right thing to do, but still, they were embarrassed, having lost face.


    Some of them that picked neither thought that Malik would''ve just helped them out and dipped, perhapsing in contact againter when terms were more favorable.


    But no, they were proven wrong.


    Malik, for no incentive at all, and at the detriment of his own life, had taken those two in.


    Huda, who had now realized that, was more focused on her brother.


    She barely remembered him; it was just so long ago, but she was sure that he was important to Malik.


    How, or why, she was soon to know.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Mommy, daddy... where are you?"


    The little girl cried repeatedly while on her brother''s back, wasting the hard-earned water that Malik had given her.


    But he didn''t seem to mind as he walked in front of them, from one shade to another, a building to the next, deeper and deeper into the district, until they reached a massive cliff that stretched beyond what they could see from left to right, revealing an unfathomably big abyss, the Al-Fawra.


    It was why the was known as Fam Iblis; this hole was the maw of the devil.


    One might think that humans would stay as far away as they could from it, but funnily enough, the more desperate one was, the closer they''d be to it, even directly above it.


    And that was literal, as many abandoned buildings atop a wooden floor could be seen leaning into the maw as if slowly being devoured.


    "Alright~..."


    Malik pointed at the furthest of the buildings and smirked.


    "We''re almost home, kids; just don''t look down."


    The girl shrieked, cowering behind her brother''s back, and the boy didn''t seem to listen.


    As if on purpose, his head snapped down just as they stepped before the creaking wood.


    His eyes and his legs trembled, almost causing him to drop his sister.


    Malik sighed, turned around, and held out his hands.


    "What''s your name?"


    "...I... I-I... I¡ª"


    "Holy shit! Okay, okay, enough; I get it! Your parents told you not to say it, correct?"


    He slowly nodded.


    "Alright, fuck me, I won''t ask again, but I need to call you something, so for now, how about scaredy-cat?"


    "..."


    "No? Then, let''s see... chicken?"


    "..."


    The boy offered no reply, trembling with his eyes half-closed.


    "Hm... tough, weakling? Wimp? Wuss?"


    His brows twitched as he finally snapped and went forth, wanting to kick Malik''s shins.


    But before he could, Malik tapped his knee with his stick, making him stumble.


    "Hey, look at that~! You''re already on it."


    Chicken looked down, only now realizing what he had just done.


    "I-I am! Hehehe, I did it!"


    Malik''s smile widened, and he ruffled the boy''s hair.


    "Well done, kid, now let''s go..."


    The girl looked at their interactions with a bewildered gaze, and as the two walked further in, her lips slowly formed a cute little smile, her tears drying up.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    To everyone spectating, those three already began looking like a sweet orphaned family, one that tried their best even when the times were hard, even when death was knocking on their door.


    It was unexpected and surprisingly beautiful.


    None of them could have guessed that his memories would show such things.


    Those who expected just death and ughter felt revolted almost.


    They couldn''t believe it, their emotions all over the ce.


    Neither could Huda.


    That smile made her cringe.


    She hated it so much.


    And she wasn''t the only one.


    Safira stared at the projection with eyes filled with envy.


    ''He could treat people like that?... Then what about me? I was his only disciple... he should''ve been nicer to me.''


    Her jealousy was hidden, but those who noticed her look of hostility towards Huda would''ve easily picked up on it.


    Fortunately for her, no one did, as they were all fighting their own inner battles, grappling with what they were seeing.


    "Everyone, don''t forget! We''re watching the Viin''s memories!"


    The "hero''s" voice boomed through the king''s hall, snapping everyone''s attention upward.


    In the blink of an eye, he''d flown up to the ceiling, hovering like some kind of smug bird.


    "He''s ended ns, kingdoms, viges, and entire family lineages! He deserves no empathy!"


    Arms spread wide, he spun around slowly, making sure everyst person was looking at him.


    "Don''t be shaken!"


    What he was doing was crystal clear; there wasn''t a more obvious way of spelling it out.


    Zafar nned to control the crowd early to gain favor in their hearts while also painting everything as ck and white.


    Usually, such an attempt would''ve beenughed at, but as they weren''t in the best of mental states, many thousands in the hall nodded at his words.


    Seeing his n working, Zafar smiled in delight, though only for a moment, as a man''s entrance had ruined his parade:@@novelbin@@


    "Lady Roya, we have urgent news!"

 Chapter 9 Right Path

    Roya calmly turned to him and nodded, signaling that he could say it out loud.


    "Many hundreds of projections have been seen throughout the! They''re all disying the Sultan''s memories."


    Unsurprisingly, not many reacted to the news, deeming it as something natural.


    After all, if it wasn''t stated enough, one of the Ten Commandments was used.


    Only those who remained on their knees, prostrating every other minute, began to celebrate, smugly thinking that this had proven them to be correct.


    God, the one and only True Sultan, had ''His'' hands in this mess, and they, the lucky ones, had the blessing of being in the presence of ''His'' powers.


    Whatever role ''He'' wished for them, they would fulfill.


    ''He'' wasw, andw was ''He.''


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    During the time it took to get those fanatics to quiet down, Malik and the little ones had already gotten inside the crumbling building, finding themselves in a rusty room, where two bunk beds took most of the space, leaving only a meter or so of distance between the door and the beds.


    Sighing in relief that no one else was there, Malik pointed at the cleaner bed, silently asking them to sit there, then sat on the one opposite it, which looked much worse for wear.


    Chicken did as he was told, but the girl had other ns.


    Dropping down from her brother''s back, she wobbled over to Malik and asked:


    "Do you know where Mommy and Daddy are?"


    He shook his head.


    "Nope, no idea, but..."


    Malik leaned forward and lowered his head until it reached the same level as hers.


    "Do you want me to find them for you?"


    "Yes!"


    Her little smile matched Malik''s, and they shared a quick chuckle.


    "Then consider it done; your big brother is the strongest you know~."


    Giggles that alleviated all his tension resounded once more, and he barely stopped himself from picking her up and squishing her chubby cheeks.


    "Big brother is the strongest!"


    "Yeah, I am!"


    Those two acted as if they were their own little world, celebrating what ironically would be the truth.


    But all of a sudden, her face turned quizzical, as if she had just realized something was missing.


    "...What''s your name, big brother?"


    Herrge round eyes were locked on his golden ones.


    "I want to know too, big brother!"


    Chicken naturally joined in as well, losing most of the nervousness he showed when he first interacted with him.


    "Malik..."


    He nced at them both.


    "My name is Malik... my guardian named that."


    "Are they gone too?"


    Raising a brow, he looked back down at the girl, picking her up and sitting her beside him.


    "You''re a smart girl, aren''t you~?"


    She giggled once more, still feeling ticklish from her armpits being touched.


    Malik softly patted her head and closed his eyes.


    "Yeah... he''s gone far, far away."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Everyone could see Malik''s trembling brows, realizing the true meaning of his words, but instead of feeling any negative emotion, most of them celebrated:


    "Hahaha! So even the Viin can make faces like that, huh?!"


    "That''s what you get!"


    "Not so strong now!"


    They would''ve gone on and on if they could, but...


    "Shut up!"


    "Quiet."


    "Stand down."


    "Please lower your voice."


    Each of the four "heroines" spoke at once, shutting down those men and women.


    Not even Safira, Devil Maw''s Fairy, the gentlest, could keep quiet about them.


    Only La, his ex-wife, could, though barely at that. Because she knew that if she let herself go, all of them would be dead in a few breaths.


    Though she hated Malik to the bone, she wasn''t going to allow nobodies to insult him.


    Zafar, going along with the precedent the woman had already sent, went back on his previous words and admonished them:


    "We are meant to be the righteous ones, so how are..."@@novelbin@@


    But no one listened, their interest in what was urring in the projection peaking to new heights.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "So you want me to give you a name too?"


    "Yes, yes!"


    The little girl bounced on the bed, somehow still filled with energy.


    Malik nodded at her, then locked eyes with the boy.


    "To be honest with you... I wouldn''t have saved you if not for her."


    Chicken''s eyes widened, not understanding why his big brother would reveal something like that.


    "Trust me, if you were two guys, I''d have dipped, leaving you to rot, so be thankful to her, alright?"


    Before he could reply, Malik asked the question that he knew was on his mind.


    "Why am I saying it? Well..."


    He ruffled the little girl''s hair.


    "It''s the context for why I''ll name you Huda... my right path."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Boom!


    As if an explosion had urred, everyone''s minds were blown, even the Lady herself, who seemingly had forgotten the origin of her name.


    This confirmed those who still doubted the projection.


    Huda Al-Sayf was the little sister of a Malik, a beggar.


    "I''m sure nothing major happened to the Al-Sayf family around that time, so how did they end up like this and for this long?"


    "Internal feud maybe."


    "Yeah, typical assassinations most likely."


    People began to make guesses as to why they were there, while others, more specifically, the ones next to Huda, began tofort her, knowing the internal plight that she was likely going through.


    "You can look at them as different people; I''m sure your brother back then would''ve liked that."


    "Exactly, it''s obvious he cares for you even though you just met; no one would take issue if you kept your name unchanged."


    "Yeah, even if it wasn''t Master Cyrus that named you, I''m sure the elders wouldn''tin."


    Zafar, the opportunist weasel that he was, joined the train as well.


    He was the first to notice Huda''s hesitation, knowing how bad it''d appear to the public if one of the five leaders of the coalition had defected.


    "They''re right, and while saving you from death deserves great respect, leaving your brother to die, stealing Holy Relics from your parents'' treasury, killing your uncle, the Sultan himself, and massacring half of those under your family''s rule are not blood debts that could be settled, not even in multiple lifetimes."


    She sighed, hesitation draining from her face as she looked back at the projection with hateful eyes.


    "...I get it. Don''t worry; a hateful mob isn''t easy to dissuade."


    Zafar looked away and clicked his tongue, not liking how even she, the one who was supposed to be most naive, picked up on what he was doing.


    ''I''ll kill him myself if I have to!''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "So! Now that we''ve made friends and all, how about telling me which family you''re from? I need to know if you ever want to find your parents and go back home."

 Chapter 10 Sultan Of The Ten Seas

    Chicken looked at his big brother for a while, then answered:


    "We''re from Al-Sayf."


    Malik tilted his head.


    "...Who?"


    "..."


    The boy repeatedly opened and closed his mouth, not knowing what to say.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    He wasn''t the only one.


    Those watching were in disbelief as well.


    Just what kind of life had he lived that he didn''t know THE family of Sultans?


    A family so great that more than eighty percent of Sultans hade from their lineage.


    And he, Malik, the one who obliterated their rule, ending their streak, didn''t even know of them?


    That was an insult that angered Huda like no other.


    ''MALIK!''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "We are very rich!"


    Huda answered in her brother''s stead, and though simple, it was enough for Malik toprehend what happened to them, or at least form a few guesses.


    "Then it''s safe to assume that your home is very far from here?"


    She nodded repeatedly.


    "Yes, yes! It''s very far and very big!"


    Malik held back a sigh and brought her head closer to him, pecking it with his dry lips.


    "We''re family now, alright? So you need to listen to me at all times."


    "I will!"


    She giggled, squirming around in his embrace.


    Malik softly picked her up, using most of his strength, then sat her down with her brother.


    Stepping back, he looked at them for a moment, and his smile slowly vanished.


    He was already imagining the suffering those two would go through in the uing days...


    If he was a betting man, he''d wager they might not even survive tomorrow.


    Chicken, seemingly knowing his big brother''s troubles, embarrassingly reached out his hand and held his.


    Malik''s eyes snapped toward him, remembering their moment at the wooden pathway.


    "...Guess I can''t call you chicken anymore, huh?"


    "Y-Yeah, I''m brave, like you!"


    The kid beamed, puffing out his chest like he''d just conquered the world.


    "Yes, you are... so how about a reward?"


    His smile returned as he pushed them apart and sat in between them.


    "What is it~?"


    "W-What reward?"


    He turned around, yanked the bed sheets from beneath them, making them squeal as they tumbled slightly, and crawled to the far side of the bed.


    Settling in with a satisfied groan, he flopped onto the pillow and patted the empty spot beside him.


    "Come here."


    The invitation didn''t need repeating.


    They practically threw themselves in front of him, giggling as they nestled in beside him without worry of tomorrow.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Many watching didn''t know if they had to look away or not.


    It was too private of a moment, and to have it disyed to the entire surely must''ve felt embarrassing.


    Even if it was back then when she was just a little girl, the event had defined her life.@@novelbin@@


    And sure enough, as they all expected, Huda''s facepeted with the ripest of tomatoes in how red one could be.


    She hid her face behind her dress''s sleeves but to no avail.


    They all could see her.


    Those in her camp tried to relieve those feelings, but all their incessant yapping bore no fruit; she just wanted to get it over with.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The day had been a total nightmare for those two, and only now, when their bodiespletely rxed, did they begin to feel it, their exhaustion catching up, making them remember things that they had yet to process.


    Their little bodies melted into the bed like it was the first good thing they''d felt in forever.


    Outside, the sky was starting to dim, announcing the arrival of the cold.


    Technically, it was pretty early to knock out, but who was going toin?


    They sure wouldn''t. Malik wouldn''t either.


    Honestly, being in bed, under a roof, away from the chaos... For a beggar, it didn''t get much better than this.


    Sure, the room turned into an oven during the day when their Shams decided to bake everything in sight, but it still beat being out there begging on the streets.


    And yeah, maybe there was another reason Malik preferred to sleep early, but he wasn''t about to dig up that mess right now; it would''ve only ruined his mood.


    "A bedtime story."


    Malik suddenly announced, breaking thefortable quiet.


    Both heads snapped toward him, Chicken''s eyes immediately wide with curiosity, while Huda just snuggled closer, her small body radiating warmth against the cooling air.


    "A story about who?"


    Malik sat up slightly.


    "Sinbad."


    He leaned back against the wall, his arms folded behind his head, looking every bit like a storyteller ready to spin a grand tale.


    "Who''s Sinbad?"


    Malik raised an eyebrow at the boy''s question, feigning shock.


    "Who''s Sinbad? Only the greatest sailor to ever sail the Ten Seas!"


    "Ten? All ten seas?"


    "That''s right. Not one, not two, not even three like the boring sailors you hear about. Ten. This guy? He was the emperor of the ocean, the Sultan of the waves."


    Huda, initially unimpressed, perked up at the mention of a Sultan, her head tilting with interest.


    Chicken, meanwhile, was already leaning forward, practically vibrating with eagerness.


    "Once upon a time, in and far beyond the Shams'' burning gaze, there was a man named Sinbad. He wasn''t born a sailor, no. He was born a merchant, trading silks and spices across thends. But one day, a storm swept him away, along with his ship and crew, into uncharted waters¡­"


    Chicken gasped, his eyes shimmering with the kind of wonder only children could manage.


    "And what happened?!"


    "Oh, what didn''t happen?"


    Malik grinned.


    "Sinbad faced off against giant sea serpents with scales like diamonds and teeth sharper than the mightiest of swords. He outsmarted cunning sirens who lured sailors to their doom. He even befriended a talking whale who helped him escape an underwater kingdom!"


    Huda was starting to blink slower and slower, her head nodding slightly as sleep began to im her.


    "But the best part?"


    Malik''s voice rose for dramatic effect.


    "Sinbad didn''t do it for treasure. No, he did it because he loved adventure. Loved the thrill of danger, the feeling of the wind in his hair and the waves beneath his feet. He was fearless, clever, and unstoppable! He might even beparable to me!"


    Chicken chuckled as his hands balled into fists.


    "And then? What happened at the end?"


    Malik leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing the world''s best-kept secret.


    "At the end... well, there''s no end. Sinbad didn''t stop. He sailed off into the horizon, searching for the eleventh sea. Some say he''s still out there, charting new waters no one''s ever seen."


    Chicken sat back, his mouth hanging open in awe.


    Huda, meanwhile, hadpletely surrendered to sleep, her tiny snores barely audible.


    Malik smirked, reaching over to pat her head softly.


    "Guess I''ve lost one listener."


    He muttered before turning back to Chicken.


    "So, what do you think, huh? Sound fun?"


    The boy nodded furiously, his excitement bubbling over, looking very much like a deranged chicken.


    "I wanna be like Sinbad!"


    Malik chuckled, ruffling the boy''s hair.


    "Alright, kid. While you''re under my protection, your name''s Sinbad. Forget whatever your old name was. You''re a brave boy now, aren''t you?"


    "Yes!"


    Sinbad¡ªhis new name like a badge of honor¡ªbeamed with pride.


    But after a moment, he tilted his head curiously.


    "I''ve been meaning to ask, big brother... What does Huda mean? You said something about her¡­ right path or something."


    Malik snorted, covering his mouth to stifle augh.


    "Don''t tell her this, but I picked it up from some up-anding taxi service."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The room fell into an almostical silence as the revtion sank in.


    Malik had named her, the pride of Al-Sayf, after a third-rate taxi service.


    For a moment, nobody dared speak.


    The awkwardness was thick enough to cut with a butter knife.


    Then, all hell broke loose.

 Chapter 11 You Lied~

    "H-HE WHAT?!"


    One of her loyal followers screeched, clutching their chest like they''d just been mortally wounded.


    "It''s fine! It''s fine!"


    Another immediately chimed in as they desperately tried to salvage her honor.


    "The meaning is what matters! Guidance! It represents guidance! How beautiful is that?!"


    "SO beautiful!"


    Someone else echoed with a feverish nod, sweat practically dripping down their face.@@novelbin@@


    "Honestly, who even cares where it came from? It''s symbolic! A divine coincidence, really!"


    "It''s about the intent! The name inspires! It''s a beacon of hope! A star in the endless darkness!"


    The pro-Huda camp clung to these exnations like life rafts, throwing out increasingly grandiose interpretations.


    "A name fit for someone destined to lead! To guide our people to greatness!"


    But their voices were drowned out by the unmistakable sound of snickering.


    Zafar Al-Nadir, the "hero" of this world, showed a smile while watching the image of his supposed friend drown.


    The situation, though bad for their coalition, made him feel better about himself.


    After all, his name was special, for he was Victory, Triumph, and Precious.


    "Huh..."


    His tongue mimicked a slithering snake as he drawled:


    "So the great Viin decides to name our Lady after... a cabpany?"


    Though he meant it as a tease, an unfamiliar man joined in and pped his hands slowly, sarcasm practically dripping from him:


    "Indeed Lord Zafar, it''s truly inspirational. Nothing screams ''nobility'' like a shabby ride through the backstreets of Zawaya."


    "Shut your mouth, Azeem, you, out of all in this hall, have no right to say anything!"


    One of Huda''s people shot back, their face red with fury.


    "Besides, a man like you wouldn''t understand the depth of it!"


    "...Depth?"


    Azeem flipped over his long, braided, ponytailed, ck hair that stretched down to his ankles.


    Most of the gold around his neck and forearms rattled by the move, jingling enough to annoy everyone around him.


    "Oh, there''s depth, alright. The depths of a bad joke."


    Huda''s followers and sisters wanted so badly to sock him a new one, but they knew better than to attack him.


    Though he looked like a mboyant and barely muscr young man, his red, ring-like eyes alone had kept them at bay.


    Moreover, this man was the one who had apanied Malik throughout his life as the Sultan.


    He was Malik''s right-hand man, the one who oversaw all the death and destruction.


    Many of them believed that he should''ve been there, dead alongside his master, but a fairer few had disagreed, having them dy his execution untilter.


    It was only right that he saw Malik killed first; after all, he too was betrayed.


    "What? Cat got your tongue?"


    "Say that one¡ª"


    "Enough!"


    Huda''s voice cut through the chaos like a whip.


    Everyone in her immediate vicinity froze, mimicking the paused world of earlier.


    Her face was beet red, the kind of red that could make even the ripest of tomatoes weep with envy.


    But her expression? Pure exasperation.


    "You''re all embarrassing me."


    She red at her loyalists first.


    "Stop twisting it into something it''s not. It''s a name, not a prophecy!"


    She turned her re on Azeem next, her tone dropping to something far more dangerous.


    "And you¡ªshut up before I shove your slithering tongue down your throat."


    Azeem blinked, his smirk faltering for just a moment before he raised his hands in mock surrender.


    "Fair enough."


    Huda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.


    "Malik gave me a name. That''s all. And, yes, maybe it''s from a taxi service, but who cares? It''s mine now."


    Her gaze swept across the room, daring anyone to argue.


    "Let''s focus on what matters, alright? Like the fact that he''s about to leave us behind! That''s what I care about¡ªnot some stupid taxi!"


    With that, she crossed her arms and looked back at the projection, clearly done with the conversation.


    The room stayed silent for a beat, everyone too stunned¡ªor too scared¡ªto respond.


    And then someone whispered:


    "Honestly though... it is really beautiful."


    Huda groaned, burying her face in her hands.


    She really needed new followers.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Sinbad''s eyes went wide, and the two of them broke into quietughter, trying not to wake Huda.


    "Okay!"


    Sinbad whispered, holding out his pinky.


    "Pinky promise?"


    Malik grinned and held out his own pinky to meet the boy''s, but just before they could seal the deal, he froze.


    His ears caught the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoing outside the room, and his smile dropped instantly.


    "Shhhhh..."


    He whispered, quickly pulling the nket over them and pushing the two deeper into the bed.


    He held Sinbad close, covering his mouth with a firm but gentle hand.


    The door creaked open.


    "Can''t get, uh, used to ce..."


    "Shit''s barely holdin'' on~."


    Three men stumbled in, their gait unsteady and their speech slurred.


    Malik''s stomach twisted as he eyed them.


    Damned drunkards, ve traders¡ªdangerous and desperate ones at that.


    They were on theirst legs, clearly out of options.


    "Still smells like piss."


    One of themughed, kicking a hole through the wooden wall just for fun.


    "Ain''t it just. Hey, where''s the little rat? He owes us."


    Malik sat up slightly, prepared to put his body between the men and the children at a moment''s notice.


    "Already paid my dues forst week; you were supposed toe tomorrow for the next."


    "Oh, yeah?"


    "Yeah, and I ain''t got shit today, so get the fuck out and let me sleep."


    The first man squinted at him, stepping closer.


    "What''s with the nket, then? Hiding food again?"


    Malik forced augh.


    "Learned my lessonst time, didn''t I? No food. Just me trying to stay warm."


    The man stared for a moment longer, then burst into loud, obnoxiousughter.


    "Good, be that way if you don''t want your legs to get fucked up again!"


    The second man joined in, and Malik held his breath, hoping they''d leave.


    But just as they were about to step out, a small sound shattered the tense silence.


    A soft, sleepy grumble.


    Huda was the source.


    ''...Fuck.''


    Malik''s blood ran cold.


    The men froze, their heads snapping back toward him.


    "You lied~."

 Chapter 12 Changing Tides

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Those in the hall were both confused and in disbelief.


    Every man and woman, even the ''named,'' turned to the leader of Al-Sayf, their gazes asking one single question:


    "Do you remember any of this?"


    Huda, who looked the most surprised out of them all, just shook her head slowly.


    She was silent for a beat longer as if processing the memory for the first time, but then she dropped her gaze and muttered:


    "I think... I think I was knocked out the whole time..."


    Admitting that made her wince, like a fresh wound she could feel but didn''t want to touch.


    "Thest thing I remember is sleeping on that bed... Then, I woke up in my uncle''s arms... he... he told me that I was abandoned."


    A few of her followers looked like they might explode from frustration.


    "He saved her again?! How is this the first we''re hearing about this?!"


    "Don''t we look like such assholes right now? Killing the one that saved our Lady?"


    "You can''t tell me you''re forgetting what he did... This Viin even massacred some of our families!"@@novelbin@@


    They looked at the girl, whose eyes were welling up with tears just at the thought of her loved ones, all killed by Malik''s merciless hands.


    "I... we know, but still, you can''t deny that if not for him, then our Lady wouldn''t have been with us today."


    One man scoffed, clearly unimpressed.


    "I can''t believe he brought them there if he knew his roommates were scum! What was he thinking?"


    Another person, one with a brain inside his head, shot back:


    "Shut up, dumbass, you know damn well it was ast-minute decision. And he obviously didn''t think they''d be back here today. Plus, where else could he take them? He was barely surviving himself."


    Huda didn''t say anything to them.


    She stood there, eyes focused on the projection, her thoughts swirling.


    Her posture, once full of pride, anger, and hurt, began to falter as the weight of what Malik had done¡ªnot once, but twice¡ªstarted sinking in.


    The mood in the room was shifting, and it wasn''t going unnoticed.


    Zafar tried to seize that moment and make it his own, raising his voice to drown out the crowd:


    "Everyone! It''s only natural that you feel empathy for his plight. That is a sign of a good person! You are good!"


    The people quieted down, listening to their "hero" speak.


    "But he isn''t! As one of Lady Huda''s attendants put it, the young Sultan could be seen as a wholly different person. You can root for him if you wish, I see no problem in that, but be sure to prepare yourself for what''ll happenter."


    Many nodded their heads at his words, agreeing with most, if not all of what he said.


    And that was to be expected, after all, he took a neutral stance that held out its hands to every opinion.


    "Wise as always my Lord!"


    "I expect nothing less of you, my Lord!"


    "I agree wholeheartedly with you, my Lord!"


    While his yes-menplimented him none stop, Azeem nced at Huda and sneakily said:


    "Isn''t it funny? The Devil Sultan''s, the so-called Viin... here, ying guardian to children. Tell me, Lady Huda, how does it feel to know you were in the hands of someone so... benevolent?"


    His words were meant to cut, to provoke, but instead, Huda''s expression softened.


    The harsh lines of hatred that had been etched on her face for so long were starting to blur.


    She couldn''t hold onto the anger anymore.


    Not after everything she had just seen.


    And she wasn''t the only one.


    Those who had only been the victims of his ''evil,'' seeing the Sultan as entirely heartless, were murmuring in disbelief:


    "...Is that really the Viin?"


    "I thought he was a monster. He wasn''t supposed to care, not about anyone."


    Another voice, this one confused to Hell and back, echoed:


    "Yeah, but... after seeing this? He''s not what I thought. He''s... just a kid. A really messed-up kid, but still..."


    Some, unable to let go of their hatred, not even for the kind little boy in front of them, opened their mouths to protest, to dismiss his kindness, but nothing came out.


    No words felt right anymore.


    They''d never thought they''d see Malik like this¡ªprotecting, caring, doing something good for once.


    And as for Zafar? Though he spoke well, he could already feel the cracks forming in his coalition.


    More specifically, Huda.


    Zafar didn''t know what she was thinking anymore.


    He looked at the paused projection and then at her, his smile faltering.


    It was the first time he didn''t have any semnce of control over the narrative.


    The young Malik wasn''t the monster he wanted him to be, he just wasn''t.


    And worse, the world was starting to see him differently, realizing that he was never the devil spawn they made him out to be.


    "Enough..."


    Huda finally said, looking around the room, her voice frustrated to the extreme.


    "I''m done with this. Malik''s actions don''t need exning. I know what he did for me... for Sinbad. He doesn''t have to be some... hero for it to mean anything."


    Slowly, her gaze shifted back to the projection, and her loyalists, the ones who''d fought and bled for her, fell silent.


    This was new. Uncharted territory.


    Huda had finally acknowledged it.


    The Villian, the one who ruined her life, had also saved it, twice, and likely many times more before she had awoken.


    Even if she didn''t remember it all, she knew it was real.


    She could feel it in her heart.


    And despite the cracks, hister actions, the unforgivable ''evil'' he''dmit, she had to admit something to herself she hadn''t dared before:


    "Maybe... maybe he wasn''t so bad."


    Her whisper seemed to echo in the minds of everyone present.


    Even Zafar, who felt the shift but couldn''t stop it, let out a long breath.


    He wasn''t sure what to make of it, but one thing was clear¡ªtides were changing and he wasn''t confident that he could calm it next time.

 Chapter 13 Sweet Dreams

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Probably a rat. Now, FUCK! OFF!"


    Malik gave him the bird andid back down on the bed.


    His acting was natural and award-worthy, but unfortunately...


    The first of them wasn''t convinced.


    "A rat, huh?"


    His face twisted into a sick grin.


    "Sounded more like... a cute little fuckable mouse."


    Something in Malik snapped.


    "Sinbad."


    He hissed under his breath, eyes locked on the boy''s wide, terrified gaze.


    "Take her. Now. Go."


    Sinbad stared, frozen.


    "NOW!"


    Malik barked, louder this time, his voice enough to jolt Sinbad into action.


    The boy scrambled to his feet, scooping up Huda in a panic.


    She stirred slightly but didn''t wake, her small body limp against his back.


    Malik didn''t wait to see what happened next.


    He lunged for his makeshift cane¡ªa withered stick barely strong enough to support his weight¡ªand gripped it tight.


    The drunkardsughed as he limped towards them, not seeing an inkling of a threat in him.


    "Oh, what''s this? The little rat''s got some fight in him!"


    "Who''re you pokin'' with that?"


    "Better put that stick down before you hurt yourself, boy."


    Their insults came one after the other, intent on breaking him down.


    But Malik wasn''t affected, not in the least.


    "DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"


    His response was a raging scream as he stabbed the stick forward with all his might, aiming for the closest man''s balls.


    "Urghh¡ªFUCK!"


    The impact was solid, a disgusting pop that made the man howl in pain while crumpling him to the floor.


    "Sinbad, RUN! Show me that I wasn''t wrong in naming you after him!"


    Malik''s shout echoed, ensuring that they''d have at least a chance to survive, but thankfully, it was unneeded.


    Sinbad didn''t hesitate this time around.


    He had already opened the window in between the bunk beds and climbed up, now standing outside on the protruding limestone.


    "O-O-Oh..."


    Malik heard a low-sounding whimper but didn''t dare risk a nce.


    The boy was out; that was enough; his job was over.


    Whatever happened to them next rested on him more than it did on Malik.


    That, in one weird way or another, had given him a strange sense of relief.


    "Crippled rat!"


    But Malik''s emotional moment was short-lived.


    The second man charged at him like a bull, aiming to smash him into the ground.


    Malik paused a beat, then stepped to the side and jabbed the stick forward, piercing the soft flesh of his gut.


    "Gah¡ª!


    Doubling over with a wheeze, the man stumbled past him and crashed into the beds, knocking himself down.


    He wasn''t getting back up, at least not for the next ten seconds, but Malik didn''t stop.


    Pivoting on his left, he kicked the man square in the head and continued the movement, mming his stick into the back of the first man''s neck in the hope of keeping him on the ground.


    Four hits. Four solid hits.


    That was all he could manage.


    "Let''s fucking stop this shit, eh?"


    The final man, their leader, who previously stood back and just watched the fight, had finally interfered, wrenching the stick out of Malik''s hands with a force that nearly dislocated his shoulder.


    "You think you''re tough, huh? Think you''re a little hero?"


    "Shut¡ªah!"


    Malik didn''t get a chance to respond before the first blownded¡ªa boot to his back that sent him sprawling onto the floor.


    He didn''t see iting, as it wasn''t the leader who attacked him, but the man with the crushed balls.


    It seemed that the stick wasn''t enough to keep him out of the fight.


    "Ugh!"


    The second kick came fast, then another.


    Malik curled into himself, trying to shield his head and stomach, but the blows kepting, kicking him around like a game of football.


    "Should''ve stayed down."


    "Fucking rat!"


    The two he injured were beyond furious, doing their best to inflict the most amount of pain on him, but whatever was left of Malik''s focus wasn''t on them.


    It was on their leader¡ªthe one who''d heard Huda''s grumble, the one who''d taken his stick, the one who''d condemned him to death.


    "This rat gave us more trouble than I expected, the kids almost escaped... Good thing I had backup standing by~."


    Through the haze of pain, Malik heard his words loud and clear, as if it were done on purpose.


    "A little girl... Been a while since I had a pretty little thing like that. Oh, she''s gonna make me feel real goooood."


    What snapped inside Malik had now erupted.


    "YOU SICK BASTARD!"


    His roar was louder than any other before it, and he struggled to stand with all that remained of his strength, ignoring the searing pain.


    "Stay down, you rat!"


    But it was no use.


    One of the men mmed him back down with a kick to his chest, knocking the air out of his lungs.


    "Ugh!"


    Malik wheezed, clutching his sides, and they continued their assault, enjoying each blow.


    His vision blurred, the edges darkening, but he could still hear theirughter, haunting him, taking over his thoughts.


    And soon, the world tilted... the pain dulled, but not because it stopped.


    No. Malik''s body was simply too broken to register it anymore.


    That was when they became bored.


    It was no fun to y with a broken toy.


    "Let''s go; we''ll bury this trashter."


    "Yeah, we need to catch the brats before they fuck up and get devoured."


    Malik barely felt it when they stepped over him, their boots pressing into his bruised ribs as they walked away.


    Hey there, motionless, staring up at the ceiling.


    His mouth hung open, but no sound came out.


    ''They''re going to die.''


    The thought burned in his mind, a cruel truth he couldn''t escape.


    Sinbad. Huda.


    They were going to die.


    His body refused to move, but his mind screamed.


    ''Get up... get up, get up, get up, GET UP!''


    ''GET THE FUCK UP!''


    ''YOU HAVE A PURPOSE NOW! DON''T LOSE IT!''


    ''DON''T FUCKING LOSE IT!''


    ''YOU WASTE OF SPACE!''


    ''YOU HUMAN GARBAGE!''


    ''WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT!''


    ''GET THE FUCK UP!''


    Hot tears streamed down his face, mixing with the blood and grime that covered him.


    ''I hate you¡­ I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I ALWAYS HAVE!''


    ''You''ve never done anything but fail me!''


    ''Their hopes are pinned on us¡­ ON US!''


    ''You''ve decided to save them... they''re your responsibility, and you... YOU''VE FAILED THEM!''


    ''Failed yourself... again.''


    ''But it''s fine... it''s fine; you can still save them.''


    ''SO GET UP!''


    His fingers twitched.


    ''Just... please...''


    ''Do something.''


    ''Anything.''


    ''...''


    He didn''t move.


    ''...How dare you?''


    ''HOW DARE YOU LIE HERE AND LET THEM GET CHAINED?!''


    ''S-She''s going to get raped...''


    ''Please... for her... do it. Get up.''


    ''GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS UP OFF THE GROUND!''


    Despite his endless screams, his body didn''t listen.


    It could not.@@novelbin@@


    This wasn''t a fantasy story... it was real life.


    There was no miraculous surge of strength, no heroic second wind.


    He was a malnourished child that had been beaten ck and blue.


    The fact that he had survived this long was already a miracle...


    Expecting more of him was pure idiocy.


    ''No... plea...s...e...''


    Malik''s head lolled to the side and his breathing seized.


    The world around him grew dimmer, his vision slowly devoured.


    And then, there was nothing...


    Nothing but sweet dreams.

 Chapter 14 Who Are You?

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall was dead silent, except for the sound of a few hundred younger guild members retching into their hands.


    Those near the projection had it the worst.


    For whatever God-forsaken reason, the Holy Relic transmitted not only his memories but his pain as well.


    Before they could get to a safe distance, where the pain could no longer be felt, many of their minds had be scarred.


    They just couldn''t handle it, even those way at the back.


    Every single person in that hall had been there, with him, and they heard every ounce of his agony.


    All of it.


    Malik''s desperate screams, his furious self-loathing, the pathetic cracks in his voice when his body just wouldn''t move anymore, his desperate fight to get up¡ªthey had witnessed it all.


    The rawness of it. The bitterness. The sheer, unfiltered hopelessness of a man clinging to life by his fingernails only to get kicked down, over and over again.


    It was simply too much.


    And then... everything came to an end.


    Gradual, sure, but to them, it felt sudden.


    Especially Zafar. He expected Malik to gain some sort of ''fortuitous encounter,'' not... not whatever this was.


    A broken boy, beaten to death in a filthy corner of nowhere, dying with nothing but despair and hatred to keep himpany.


    No grand sacrifice, no noble end¡ªjust another corpse nobody would care about.


    They didn''t know how to react to that.


    The big bad "Viin." The monster they''d been nning to kill for hundreds of years had died choking on his own blood while thinking of saving kids he met earlier that day.


    Some stared at the ground, refusing to look at the projection any longer.


    A few had tears streaking their faces, ashamed to wipe them away in case someone noticed.


    Others¡ªthose made of colder stuff¡ªlooked pale and uneasy, like they''d just witnessed something they shouldn''t have.


    Maybe they had.


    Even the hardened veterans looked shaken.


    These people were among the strongest of those on Fam Iblis, ones who''d braved the sixthyer of Al-Fawra and seen friends gutted like fish¡ªbut this?


    It hit different.


    Just ugly. Messy. It was a dog''s death, a rat kicked into the gutter, and they''d all watched it unfold, unknowing of how to react.


    "Well, shit..."


    Azeem broke the silence first.


    Of course he did.


    "That''s one way to go."


    He tried to keep his same energy but couldn''t; he sounded... hollow.


    Even he was shaken to the core by all that was on disy.


    La red at him, her fists clenched so tightly that blood began to seep.


    Her golden, cat-like eyes glimmered¡ªanger, grief, likely both.


    "Shut your damn mouth."


    Azeem nced at her.


    "Hm? Oh, I''m sorry. Was I supposed to p? Or maybe cry a little? Like everyone else here?"


    Huda snapped her gaze to him, furious.


    She took a step forward, moments away from attacking him.


    "You heartless bastard. You watched that and still have the nerve to¡ª"


    "Stop."@@novelbin@@


    Noor''s voice sliced through the tension like a de, halting her words.


    She didn''t shout, didn''t need to, especially not with Roya backing her up:


    "Bickering won''t change what we just saw."


    Ever the calcting one, she moved closer to the front of the hall.


    Her hands were sped tightly in front of her, her usualposed demeanor cracking ever so slightly.


    "What we just saw... is undoubtedly real. It was an ending. His ending. And yet...


    She trailed off, her blue eyes darting to Malik¡ªor whoever the hell was sitting there, trapped in chains.


    "Yeah, and yet, here he is."


    Zafar Al-Nadir''s voice broke through, stealing her thunder.


    "What the hell does that make you?"


    He pointed a finger directly at Malik with all the subtlety of a hammer.


    "You''re supposed to be dead. I saw you die. We all did."


    Malik¡ªor not-Malik¡ªremained on his throne, dying as he was.


    "..."


    If they believed that he could respond, then they were surely mistaken.


    "Dammit!"


    Huda''s fury spilled over as she yed back her memories.


    The ones of their reunion.


    Tears brimmed in her eyes, though she refused to let them fall.


    "Was it all a lie? Was everything a lie?!"


    No one answered her murmur; they had nothing to give.


    "You screamed for us... In yourst moments, you screamed. Not for yourself, but for us. You cursed yourself. You begged yourself to get up. You¡ª"


    Her voice faltered for the first time, but she quickly steadied it.


    "You weren''t lying then. You weren''t faking that."


    She looked directly at him, her expression nearly broken.


    "So who the hell are you now?"


    Her moment was interrupted by the sharp clink of Noor''s golden goblet as she tapped it against her armrest.


    "Who indeed?"


    She tilted her head, her veil fluttering slightly as she considered the implications.


    "Was that truly Malik? Or is this some convoluted ploy of his? He always did have a taste for theatrics."


    La was trembling. Not with fear, but rage.


    She took one step forward after another until she was standing before the projection, ring at it as though it might bring Malik back to life.


    "He wouldn''t... Husband wouldn''t just die like that... He''s the one who caused all of this! He can''t... he CAN''T!"


    "Oh, but he did, Madam La~."


    The hall''s tension thickened as Azeem chuckled softly.


    "A shame, really. I would''ve expected MY Sultan to put on a better show."


    "Azeem... please, not now."


    Roya turned to him, eyes threatening quite unsavory actions.


    "If you have nothing of worth to contribute, silence yourself."


    "...Of worth?"


    Azeem smirked, crossing his arms as he looked at the one he used to love.


    "Everything the Sultan did, every scheme, every massacre¡ªevery drop of blood spilled¡ªis why we''re all here now. His death is your ''worth,'' Roya. Don''t act like you''re above it."


    Safira, who had remained quiet until now, finally spoke:


    "You''re all fools... Incredible fools. You think this changes anything?"


    She gestured toward the projection, her hand trembling slightly.


    "You seem to forget... but almost all of you stand here as his executioners. This conversation serves no purpose."


    Noorughed softly, the sound chilling.


    "Spare us the morality y, dear disciple~. You speak as though you''re untainted by him. Weren''t you the one who stood by his side until you couldn''t bear the weight of his actions like Madam La over there?"


    "I betrayed no one!"


    "I didn''t betray him!"


    They both snapped, their once kind voices rising with an intensity that silenced the hall.


    "I..."


    La looked at Safira and continued:


    "We left because we had no choice. Unlike the rest of you, we didn''t take up arms against him. We didn''t conspire to kill him. And yet..."


    She paused, taking a deep, shuddering breath.


    "We still mourn him. What about you, Noor? Do you mourn anything at all?"


    "..."


    La turned to Huda.


    "And you! You were there, weren''t you? You were with him back then. How could you let this happen?"


    Huda didn''t bother replying, understanding that this was just an emotional outburst.


    La wasn''t dumb; everyone knew she didn''t expect anything from a child that young, even if she were royalty.


    "Hahahahahaa!"


    Azeemughed aloud, never not confrontational.


    "What did you expect her to do, Madam La? Pull a miracle out of her ass? Even if she was awake and did try something, the Sultan wouldn''t allow it. He''s the stubbornest bastard alive¡ªah, dead. Doesn''t matter. If he decided he was gonna die saving someone, that was the end of it."


    Huda looked down.


    "...I would''ve done something if I could."


    She defended herself even though she didn''t need to.


    "Hah! Those words sound real funnying from you."


    Azeem attacked her as well, targeting everyone around him, holding back nothing.


    "Don''t act like you weren''t ready to stab him in the back a second ago."


    "You..."


    The tension in the hall continued to rise, each word exchanged like a drawn weapon waiting to strike.


    Zafar was lost throughout it all, not knowing where to ''strike,'' as supporting one would lose him favor with the other.


    So, instead of doing that, he focused on the present:


    "This isn''t about assigning me or justifying actions. The Viin''s... or rather Malik''s death is a reality we must face. What matters now is understanding whates next."


    "Whates next?!"


    Huda''s voice was sharp, her anger finding him the perfect target tosh out at.


    Zafar had failed before he could even begin.


    As he momentarily retreated behind his group of yes-men, Huda took center stage.


    "Whates next is that we find out who dared to impersonate my brother and why!"


    Noor giggled once more.


    "Oh, darling, don''t get ahead of yourself. For all we know, that was your brother, at least a version of him. It wouldn''t make sense for the Holy Relic to show us those memories otherwise. The Sultan we know was always resourceful. What''s a little death to a man like him?"


    Azeem sat on the ground in a lotus position, his usual smirk nowhere to be found.


    "She''s right, but still, this is one hell of a head-scratcher. Either he''s the Sultan, or he''s not. If he is, we''ve got questions. If he''s not, we''ve got even more questions. So how ''bout we let the memories talk instead of yelling at him?"


    The hall fell silent once more, the echoes of their words lingering.


    Malik''s death¡ªor the illusion of it¡ªhad struck a chord none of them wanted to admit.


    Grief lingered at the loss of a truly kind soul, kinder than they ever gave him credit for.


    Anger simmered toward those drunk bastards who''d ended him so cruelly.


    Guilt crept in for the way they, of the ''Heroic Coalition,'' treated people like him, beggars¡ªthe ones they''d always dismissed as less than nothing.


    And then there was suspicion over all that was happening, brewing just beneath the surface, ready to boil over at any second.


    But, above all of that, one thing was painfully certain.


    Whether Malik had truly died or not, even now, his presence loomed over them all, a shadow they could never escape.


    ...If only they knew the truth.


    They would''ve realized that all this farce was for naught.

 Chapter 15 Return By Death

    ***


    I died... again.


    It was quite something.


    My ''first death'' certainly wasn''t pretty, but this?


    This one hurt... it hurt bad, at a level I hadn''t imagined possible.


    A part of me knew something like this wasing.


    {The death you''ve endured} was what the Lady Of Time had said.


    That wasn''t a throwaway line.


    Gods didn''t act like that, and whoever sat with ''Her'' at the same table¡ªthe gang of cosmic chess yers¡ªdidn''t either.


    It was why they numbed me down so much.


    If they hadn''t, I was sure to have already gone insane by now.


    Reliving, or more urately, embodying that long moment of death was gut-wrenching.


    Thinking about it alone made me shudder¡ªif I had a body right now, I might''ve even felt it.


    Tears I would''ve shed, and maybe I''d be screaming into the void too, but s, I''ve abandoned my mortal coil.


    Dead. Nothing but a soul drifting in the void. No body, no voice, no tears.


    Though not for long.


    I felt it¡ªa pull, like a hook yanking me backwards.


    Before I could even process it, the world started rushing back into focus, dragging me with it.


    Or maybe I was being dragged to it.


    Either way, next thing I knew, I wasn''t floating anymore.


    I was mmed back into my body. My dead body.


    Eyes fixed on the ceiling, lungs burning with the memory of breath.


    It didn''t feel right¡ªnot alive, not dead. Just¡­ wrong.


    I tried to move, but nothing, as if something else had taken hold.


    Not my arms, not my legs, not even my fingers.


    Then, my head tilted on its own, wobbling like a marite.


    At that moment, a sound started¡ªwet, raspy, wrong.


    I would''ve called it breathing, but it was too strenuous and strange.


    Like someone choking on mud.


    ...It wasing from me.


    I didn''t need a mirror to figure it out.


    My chest barely moved, but the sound kept going, close enough to echo in my ears.


    I couldn''t stop it. Couldn''t control it.


    And then it hit me.


    ''I see.''


    That was it.


    That was all I could think.


    Everything clicked into ce in one awful, perfect moment.


    I was back. Back in my body. Back where I''d died.


    Back in a world that had already moved on. And I couldn''t stop smiling.


    Because I knew exactly what was waiting for me.


    Hell.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The projection flickered, the image stuttering for a moment as if it was struggling to hold itself together.


    And then¡ªjust like that¡ªthe world blinked.


    It did so hard, like a bad cut in some cheap indie movie.


    Everyone just stood there, frozen, watching in shock as Malik''s memories rewound.


    First, his head jerked back up, then he started breathing¡ªlike it was the most unnatural thing in the world.


    After a few heart-stopping moments, he flew to one of the guy''s legs.


    There was no mistaking it.


    The world was turning back in time.


    "What the fuck?"


    Azeem muttered, scrambling to his feet.


    His cocky smirk was gone now, reced by wide eyes and furrowed brows.


    "Did anyone else just feel like their brain got drop-kicked?"


    The projection fast-forwarded through his suffering, stopping just when Sinbad held out his pinky finger.


    A moment after, and there it was, the catch for whatever power he seemed to have.


    A flicker. It was faint, so faint they almost missed it.


    Just a shadow, rippling across Malik like dark ink spilling into water.


    It was suffocating, like something was creeping in, threatening to swallow him whole.


    The whole room sucked in a breath.


    "Oh, fuck no!"@@novelbin@@


    Azeem blurted out, pointing at the screen like it owed him an exnation.


    "Tell me someone else saw that shit!"


    "We all saw it, you idiot."


    Noor answered her usual amusement nowhere to be found.


    Huda took a step forward, her breathing uneven.


    "This... this can''t be true. It can''t be."


    Zafar wiped away the sweat forming on his face.


    "Wait. No. No way, you guys aren''t thinking this is what actually happened, right?"


    They collectively ignored his murmurs, though not on purpose, as everyone in the hall was busy racking their brains about what they had just seen.


    Time reversal was impossible. That was a fact. Everyone believed it.


    But what they''d just seen? That shattered everything they thought they knew.


    "He didn''t."


    "He couldn''t."


    "He can''t."


    But he did.


    "Is this... the future?"


    "A prophetic memory?"


    "A goddamn d¨¦j¨¤ vu?"


    "...No, it''s not. There''s no denying it; we see his present... This actually happened."


    "It did."


    Noor agreed with whoever had exined, her voice obviously agitated.


    "This''s something far worse than that."


    La''s fists clenched, the faint tremor in her hands betraying her nerves.


    "You don''t mean... You can''t mean..."


    "Oh, but I can."


    "Lady Noor''s right."


    Azeem breathed, his voice hushed like he was afraid to say it too loud.


    "The Sultan can go back in time... He can return by death."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Silence mmed into the room like a thunderp, broken only by Roya''s whisper:


    "That''s how... That''s how he won. That''s how he became the most dominant Sultan in history."


    "It''s..."


    Safira hesitated, swallowing down her words, but La spoke for her, knowing exactly what she was going to say:


    "It''s impossible. No one can... no one can do that. Not even Malik."


    Huda nodded her head in a stutter.


    "Y-Yeah, not even one of the Ten Commandments can y with time... This is something else. As Noor said, it''s something... worse."


    "Worse?"


    Azeemughed, though it was bitter, really bitter, as if he was the one most wounded by this secret.


    "That''s not even the half of it. The implications of this aren''t something we can predict... especially whatever that shadow was. Clearly, we didn''t know the Sultan as well as we thought."


    "...But it does exin everything."


    Noor''s voice had turned cold.


    "What?"


    Zafar demanded, turning to her.


    "What the fuck does it exin?"


    She met his gaze, her eyes piercing through the veil.


    "How he always seemed to be ten steps ahead of us, no matter what we did..."


    "I-Is that why he changed so much?"


    Huda stared at the Malik sitting in that projection, the one looking at Sinbad like a father would a son.


    She now knew that he wasn''t the man they''d watched die earlier.


    He was someone else entirely... a man who knew death.


    ''Am I the one at fault?''


    She wanted so badly to ask that question, but she couldn''t get it out, leaving her eyes to do so for her.


    But unfortunately, she wasn''t going to get an answer.


    Never.


    She had already condemned her brother to death.


    La looked down, her face nk.


    "It is exactly why. He didn''t just grow into it. He... he died... he built himself. Over and over again."


    Noor giggled darkly, ncing at Huda.


    "And now we''re finally seeing the building blocks."


    Zafar dragged a hand down his face, feeling great envy.


    ''So, not only was he the Sultan, he was the goddamn cheat code.''


    If he thought logically about it even for a second, he wouldn''t havee up with such a hypocritical thought, but it was to be expected from the "hero."


    "Dying''s a minor inconvenience when you can just... undo it, isn''t it?"


    Noor said with a smile, though her hands trembled as they rested on her floating throne.


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Nobody dared to respond.


    Whether to admonish her or support her.


    They didn''t have to.


    The implications were burning themselves into their brains fast enough.


    It all made sense now.


    Every impossible victory, every uncanny shift in his strategies, every time it seemed like Malik had just known exactly what wasing.


    Because he had.


    The Sultan, who had ruled with an iron fist, who had orchestrated rebellion and bloodshed, hadn''t just been a Magi.


    He''d been something else.


    Something that took the whole to unite just to stop him.

 Chapter 16 Into The Abyss

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    One moment, Malik was staring at the ceiling, broken, bloodied, and dead.


    The next, he was back on the bed, Sinbad in front of him, pinky raised with that same hopeful look in his eyes.


    Malik froze.


    His mind felt like it had been flipped upside down.


    What the hell just happened? Was he dead? Dreaming? Had he finally lost his damn mind?


    But his body didn''t wait for his brain to catch up.


    It moved on its own, driven by some primal instinct.


    He lunged forward, wrapped his arms around Sinbad, and pulled him close.


    "Step out the window. Now."


    His voice trembled.


    "Please... please just do it."


    Sinbad looked up at him, wide-eyed and confused, but the desperation in Malik''s tone left no room for questions.


    Slowly, the boy nodded and turned toward the window.


    The frame was already loose, so they easily pushed it open.


    Sinbad carefully climbed onto the sill, clutching it with one hand as he bnced Huda on his back.


    He was halfway out when¡ª


    ''Dammit.''


    The door mmed open.


    "I KNEW IT!"@@novelbin@@


    Malik''s heart dropped.


    "You''ve been hiding something, haven''t you, boy?"


    The leader of the three men stood there, a cruel grin spreading across his face as his bloodshot eyes locked onto the two little ones.


    "Thought you could keep them all to yourself?"


    Malik didn''t give him time for another word.


    He grabbed his stick¡ªthe same useless, withering thing¡ªand stabbed it forward with everything he had.


    The wood crushed the man''s throat, sending him stumbling back into hispanions.


    "RUN!"


    Malik shouted, but he didn''t need to; Sinbad was already outside.


    Smiling softly, he didn''t wait for the dazed men to recover and bolted through the doorway, shoving past them.


    His bare feet pounded against the wooden floor as he raced down the hallway, making the building groan around him.


    As he reached the bottom of the stairs, the receptionist at the desk nced up, her face as nk as always.


    "Help¡ª"


    Malik started, but he stopped himself.


    She didn''t care. Of course, she didn''t care.


    The woman didn''t even flinch as he rushed past her and shoulder-mmed the front door open with a loud crash, the brittle hinges giving way instantly.


    "Sinbad!"


    He screamed, spinning to face the first floor of the building where the boy stood.


    Sinbad was hugging the wall with one hand while holding Huda to his back with the other, his feet barely bnced on the protruding limestone.


    "Drop her! NOW!"


    Sinbad hesitated for a moment before doing as he was told and letting go.


    Huda''s limp body tumbled down, and Malik surged forward, catching her awkwardly in his arms as he fell backward onto the dusty ground.


    Pain shot through him, but he didn''t care.


    He clutched the girl close and scrambled to his feet.


    "Sinbad! You''re next!"


    But the boy froze.


    His small hands gripped the wall even harder, his eyes darting between Malik and the window to his left.


    "Come on! There''s no time!"


    Malik yelled again, but Sinbad didn''t move... again.


    His legs trembled every time he put any strength in them, halting his attempts before they could even start.


    "The boy''s still up here!"


    Just then, the thinnest of the three men kicked the window open and climbed up while the other two arrived outside.


    "Get him!"


    Malik nced at the terrified Sinbad, who was now inching along the limestone in a panic, slipping with every other step.


    That look¡ªthough short¡ªfelt like an eternity.


    "...I-I''m sorry."


    Then, gritting his teeth, he forced himself to look away and ran.


    There was no other choice.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall broke out in chaos.


    "No. No way. NO WAY!"


    Huda''s voice cracked, shrill like ss shattering.


    "He LEFT him?! He ACTUALLY left him?!"


    Her words hung in the air, and no one could respond fast enough.


    No one except Azeem.


    "Whew. That''s cold, even for the Sultan... guess now we know how you survived, my Lady."


    "Shut UP!"


    Huda snapped, spinning to him with fire in her eyes.


    "You think this is funny? That was my BROTHER! You saw the way he looked at Malik! He trusted him; he believed in him, and Malik just¡ªjust¡ª"


    Azeem raised an eyebrow.


    "Ah? Don''t shoot the messenger now, would you? It''s against thew~."


    Ignoring him, Huda''s eyes returned to the momentarily frozen projection, her jaw clenched so tight it was a miracle she hadn''t cracked a tooth.


    "I told you. I told all of you... I''m not wrong... I-Im not doing anything wrong..."


    She couldn''t finish that sentence as tears began to spill.


    It was a heartbreaking sight, and it melted many hearts within the crowd.


    But one of them wasn''t buying it.


    "Don''t... just don''t."


    Safira was the one.


    Everyone turned to her, who had mostly been silent throughout.


    Her usually kind expression was gone, reced by obvious anger.


    "Don''t pity yourself, and please don''t pretend you''re any better. Especially you, Huda... You''ve received something none of us have."


    Her eyes dropped, her smile sad, almost painful.


    "You don''t know what it''s like to be..."


    She trailed off, shaking her head, but then her gaze went back to Huda, anger returning.


    "None of us know what he was thinking, what he was feeling in that moment. And I''m sure, if we were in his shoes, most of us¡ªif not all¡ªwould''ve done the same, or worse. Much worse. So don''t you dare judge him like you''re saints."


    "Safira¡ª"


    "No."


    She raised her voice.


    "You think you know him? You don''t. None of us do. Azeem is right, and I''m sure everyone here has realized this by now. So stop acting like you''ve got all the answers."


    Safira''s gaze returned to the projection, and it resumed, almost as if it had decided their reactions were over.


    "Just watch."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik''s legs were barely holding him up as they were, and every step felt like a punch to his knees.


    Carrying Huda in his arms didn''t help¡ªshe was light, sure, but right now, she might as well have been a boulder strapped to his chest.


    His pace was more of a desperate shuffle than an actual run, but he pushed forward.


    Yet it was all for naught.


    In front of him, the only path out of here, stood a man.


    Malik didn''t need to be told.


    That man was with them.


    He was the "backup;" he wouldn''t have been here at this time otherwise.


    Thud-thud-thud!


    Behind Malik, the sound of heavy boots mming against the ground grew louder.


    They had almost caught up.


    Malik was trapped.


    He looked at Huda, somehow still sleeping in his arms, then at the tform extended over the abyss to his right.


    It didn''t take him long to make a decision.


    ''Better dead than a ve.''


    Malik shot forth, running faster than he ever did as the wooden floor creaked under his weight, every step threatening to send him plummeting into the darkness below.


    He stopped just a step or two before the cliff, where the wood dangled down, about to fall.


    "Wait!"


    The leader of the men shouted.


    "Kid, don''t be stupid! You don''t wanna die, do you?!"


    Malik inched further back.


    "I don''t, but what choice do I have?!"


    The man continued, his tone turning desperate:


    "Better a ve than dead kid!"


    "No!"


    "Listen, just listen, yeah? We leave the boy alone; just give us the girl! We can share the profits! I might even think about not tasting her¡ª"


    Malik took a whole step back, reaching the edge, his golden eyes zing with rage.


    "SHUT UP! IF YOU DON''T, I SWEAR I''LL DROP HER RIGHT NOW!"


    It was a look that brought shivers down the man''s spine.


    "O-Okay! Just calm down! I''ll stay quiet, alright?"


    The men slowly and quietly tried to get closer to Malik, moving like crabs a few meters ahead of him.


    Their eyes constantly darted into the void, unable to resist its terrifying pull.


    Malik didn''t react, not feeling the least bit threatened by them.


    It was a scene that mirrored their first interaction, only now that instead of Malik being the threat, it was the tform beneath him, its edges splintering with each second that passed.


    "Sinbad!"


    Malik called out, his voice echoing across the chasm.


    The boy was still on the protruding limestone, though on the left side of the building instead of the right, just above the devouring abyss.


    It seemed that he and his pursuer had managed to do a fullp around the building.


    "Do you trust me?!"


    Malik had left him for dead seconds ago; one wouldn''t expect anything but a "n-n-no," as a reply.


    "Y-Y-Yes!"


    But it was Sinbad; though they had just met, he grew to love his big brother quite a lot.


    Enough that forgiveness came easy¡ªHell, this didn''t even feel like a betrayal to him.


    His big brother''s actions had been to save Huda, his sister, and Sinbad couldn''t hold that against him.


    If anything, it made him respect the guy even more.


    "You agreed when I said you''d do whatever I told you, right?!"


    Sinbad nodded furiously, tears streaming down his face.


    "Then jump!"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    For a moment, there was only silence.


    Malik leaned back, his body teetering over the abyss.


    He stared at Sinbad, his eyes filled with something the boy couldn''t quite ce.


    And then he fell.


    The darkness swallowed him whole.


    "NO!"


    Sinbad screamed, his hand shooting out like he could pull him back.


    But, a momentter, he quietened.


    Though the sight of them falling gave him incredible shock, it also quelled any hesitation left within him¡ªlike a switch had been flipped.


    He was no longer afraid.


    He trusted Malik.


    He always would.


    Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and pushed himself off the wall.


    "You idiots!"


    "Fucking dumbasses!"


    "NOOOOO! MY GODDAMN MONEY!"


    Thest thing they heard was the men''s furious curses fading into the distance as they plummeted into Al-Fawra, the maw of the devil.

 Chapter 17 Al-Fawra

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall went quiet, quieter than it''d ever been.


    And in that silence? There was a mess of disbelief, shock, relief, and... something else.


    Something no one could really put into words.


    Well, almost no one.


    Because, sticking to his usual trend, Azeem found it pretty damn easy:


    "Guess the Sultan ain''t all bad after all."


    A collective sigh escaped the crowd, and the tension eased, but only a little.


    Malik had saved the kids, sure, but all he''d done was drag them into even more danger.


    Normally, they''d just write off anyone in their situation as good as dead, but now?


    They couldn''t. Not when they were right in front of them, alive.


    Well, one was, at least.


    Either way, nobody had a clue what wasing next¡ªnot even Huda, the one who''d actually lived through it.


    Whatever was about to go down was bound to be way worse than anything they could''ve dreamed up¡ªand probably a lot more disturbing too.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Ten..."


    Malik held on to Huda with all the strength he could muster, his arm digging her body into his chest.


    His eyes stayed locked upward, his back taking the full force of the wind and that swirling Aether energy¡ªor whatever it was called¡ªwhipping around them as they plummeted through the air.


    "Nine..."


    What the hell did he know about Al-Fawra? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.


    He was a beggar, not one of those map-carrying Seekers.


    "Eight..."


    Still, even a guy like him picked up scraps of info here and there, though it was mostly from his... guardian.


    "Seven..."


    That old man had hammered this stuff into Malik''s head like his life depended on it¡ªwhich, surprise, it actually did.


    "You''ll thank me one day, kid. Probably when you''re about to die."


    And here he was. About to die.


    ''Guess you did one thing right, pops.''


    Malik showed a soft smile and continued the countdown:


    "Six..."


    His voice barely rose above the roar of the wind, and it wasn''t only because he was tearing through it but also because of the Devil''s Maw itself.


    Al-Fawra¡ªyeah, it devoured all, but it also pushed out the remains, an abyss surging with Aether like a living, breathing thing.


    If that was all it did, Malik and the others wouldn''t have made such a big deal about dropping in.


    But, of course, this was just the warm-up. A little teaser before the real nightmare began.


    "Five..."


    This abyss wasn''t just any hole. It sat smack in the middle of their¡ªa pit so deep, people swore it punched right down to the''s core.


    It was like a hellishyer cake, each "slice" deeper and deadlier than thest.


    "Four..."


    Firstyer? A hundred meters down. Second? A kilometer. Third? Ten. And it just kept escting, numbers climbing as the depths dropped.


    "Three..."


    The wasn''t just big; it was massive. Twelve moons circled the damn thing, and its gravity could crush most people visiting from the outside.


    "Two..."


    So how was it that Malik was still falling? The definition of ''meter'' didn''t change, did it?


    "One..."


    No, it didn''t, and if his countdown indicated anything, it was that certainws of physics were messed up around here, most certainly due to that Aether.@@novelbin@@


    "...Now."


    With a deep breath, Malik mped Huda even tighter against his chest.


    Then it hit.


    "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    A raw, guttural scream ripped from his throat as pain exploded across his back.


    Thin lines of Aether carved through his skin like a whip, shredding his already ruined robes into pieces.


    His blood sttered and streamed above him, carried by the turbulent wind.


    Malik bit down on his lip hard enough to taste copper, cutting the scream short as he twisted midair to face the ground.


    They had finally entered the firstyer''s atmosphere.


    Now, it was no longer dark, swapped out for a green forest stretching forever.


    Many thick canopies swayed gently below, surrounded by hills of grass and jagged rocks, all next to a wide river, illuminated by a lighthouse that neared the darkness above.


    It was beautiful.


    But Malik wasn''t in the mood to admire the view.


    He had way bigger problems.


    "SINBAD!"


    Malik angled himself forward, like a hawk diving towards its prey, inching his body closer to the free-falling boy.


    And Sinbad? His arms pped uselessly, making him spin like a falling ne with a broken wing.


    "You fucking kidding me?!"


    No, he wasn''t.


    The kid appeared to be out cold, even though no injuries could be seen on his body.


    Their entry into the firstyer must''ve knocked him out.


    "C''MON! Don''t make me work harder than I already am!"


    Though he was moving as straight as one could in his situation, Malik''s mind was spinning.


    Every second of his fall made him lose even more hope that they''d survive.


    He needed to save the kid. He had to. But he saw no way to do so.


    Malik could either head for the river without him or try to catch him and die alongside him.


    Yesterday, he would''ve picked the former, but after he had already abandoned him once? Never.


    "I''m not doing it again!"


    But, just as he was about to angle himself further down, something strange happened.


    His whole body slowed, like he''d just hit some thick, invisible viscous liquid.


    He felt himself pushing through it, fighting against the drag¡ªuntil, out of nowhere, before he could even react, it shot him out like a bullet.


    "Whoa!"


    Malik barely managed to snag Huda as she slipped out of his grip for a split second, his heart damn near leaping out of his throat.


    Pulling her back in close, he nced below and noticed something.


    He was much closer to Sinbad now.


    A small smile crept onto his face.


    "It''s possible."


    It felt like someone had just opened a new door in his mind.


    And in that split second of rity, Malik knew what to do.


    Though he didn''t know exactly what they were, he could guess they had something to do with Aether.


    More importantly, he knew they made him fast.


    Fast enough for him to catch Sinbad and reach the river without sacrifice.


    Those floating pockets would be his vehicle to victory!


    "Alright, let''s see if I can find another."


    Instincts took over, the same ones that had carried him through a lifetime of begging, scrapping, and surviving.


    Malik''s eyes darted around, scanning for those near-invisible pockets of Aether.


    There¡ªjust at the edge of his vision.


    ''Found you.''


    No time to overthink. He dove again.


    This time, he didn''t just fall through it; no, he adjusted midair just before impact, angling himself to a fair distance below Sinbad.


    A faint pulse rippled behind him, and then¡ªboom¡ªhe was shot forward, streaking like aet through the air.


    "Ahahahahahaha!"


    It was working!


    He was getting closer, Sinbad''s limp body finally in his direct line of sight.


    Malik felt like a tattered kite being whipped around in the wind, but he didn''t care.


    He needed one more... just one.


    "Come on,e on!"


    The ground was rushing up fast, and his frantic eyes caught nothing...


    Nothing except one lone pocket hovering just above a few trees.


    Malik knew exactly what he had to do.


    Angling himself like a falling arrow, he dove even harder toward the ground, closing the distance in seconds.


    When he was just a meter or so above the tree, his eyes locked on the pocket.


    Then, at thest possible moment, he leaned left, lining himself up with Sinbad''s trajectory once more.


    Malik pierced through the pocket, stretching it like it was nothing, and shot out, way faster than any before it.


    "I''ve got you!"


    Reaching Sinbad at thest possible second, he caught him with his left arm, crushing the boy to his chest alongside his sister.


    "Now what?!"


    Malik shouted, his voice hoarse and desperate.


    They were going against gravity, flying up, way higher than he wanted to be.


    It should''ve been a blessing, his one chance at survival, but no.


    Unfortunately, the river was more than ten meters away, and there was no pocket around them, at least none they could reach.


    It was hopeless.


    But even with everything looking like a lost cause, he wasn''t ready to give up.


    He couldn''t, not when he held responsibility for these kids'' lives.


    "At least I''ll save you..."


    Malik held them tight, and then, using the momentum of his fall, he twisted his body, making him spin.


    With every ounce of energy that he had left in him, he threw them forward.


    "HA!"


    And there they went, into another pocket, one that would hopefully send them to the river.


    To safety.


    Looking down, he managed a tired chuckle, barely able to keep his eyes open...


    ''Let''s see if I have a next time.''


    And then¡ªst!


    The world went ck.

 Chapter 18 How Many Times?

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall had not heard a single word since the projectionst resumed, and this silence persisted even after it paused, giving the crowd a long moment to breathe, a reprieve from the repeated whish they had been experiencing.


    This time around, the silence wasn''t quite as heavy.


    Everyone was still processing what happened, reying what they''d just seen in their heads, trying to make sense of it.


    Malik had nearly done something impossible, and yet, it was something they expected of him.


    It wasn''t just the act itself, though, that left them stunned.


    The way Malik¡ªa kid with no real clue about the wider world¡ªmanaged to adapt to apletely new environment on the fly. It was incredible. Almost inhuman.


    And yet, even with all that, it still hadn''t been enough.


    His life had slipped just out of reach, like a cruel joke.


    Not that it mattered much. His goal was misced from the start.


    The river?


    Yeah, not exactly the safest option.


    Huda knew that better than anyone.


    As Malik''s memories yed out in front of her, she found herself stepping closer to the projection, almost like she was trying to climb inside it. Trying to feel what he felt at that time.


    It was twisted¡ªa messed-up way to atone for the helplessness she couldn''t shake.


    Sure, Malik would eventually be the one to destroy everything she cared for, but that didn''t matter right now. Not to her.


    Right now, Huda needed to do this.


    If she didn''t, she wasn''t sure she''d ever forgive herself.


    "Ugh..."


    And as she stood there, the pain he felt crashed into her like a rampaging draft monster, forcing her to kneel.


    Alongside that pain came an obvious realization.


    Malik hadn''t saved them; no, he had thrown them straight into a Dandan''s mouth.


    But she didn''t me him. How could she?


    He didn''t know. He couldn''t have known.


    Regardless, her thoughts weren''t on the river, her brother, or herself anymore.


    They were stuck on him¡ªon Malik, mming into the ground, body broken, life snuffed out in an instant.


    She looked down and her face went pale.


    Her eyes widened, and her mind kept reliving that sickening fall over and over again.


    The bitter taste in her mouth from earlier wouldn''t go away; rather, it only increased in intensity.


    Her throat felt like sandpaper, too dry to swallow, too tight to breathe.


    She could barely stop herself from breaking down then and there.


    And she wasn''t the only one.


    "That... that was insane."


    Azeem muttered, his eyes wide with something close to awe.


    "I thought he was gonna save them for sure."


    For a moment, there was nothing but that¡ªexpectation.


    Because Malik? The Sultan they knew? He always found a way. Always. Like some unstoppable force of nature barreling through every roadblock.


    And now, even with all the answers staring them in the face, even knowing the why behind it all, their brains just couldn''t reconcile it. It didn''t fit.


    It felt like a lie.


    All of it was just so different from what they thought to be the truth.


    "...Not now... please."


    La couldn''t take it anymore.


    With a shaky exhale, she dropped to the ground like her legs had given out.


    "He... He was so close. So damn close..."


    She shook her head, looking at the projection as if hoping the scene would change by her sheer willpower alone.


    But no.


    The screen was frozen right there, right on the aftermath.


    On the crater where Malik''s body had hit the earth like a meteor, dust still settling.


    A cold, hard truth. One she couldn''t argue with.


    One that sat like a weight on her, on all of them.


    And though she knew it wasn''t fair, she couldn''t stop herself from hoping.


    Hoping that next time, maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªher husband wouldn''t leave Sinbad behind.


    That he''d find a way to save them both, no matter the cost.


    Not for the sake of Sinbad; she didn''t give two shits about him, but for Malik''s sanity.


    His descent into madness was on the horizon, ready to pull him under.


    But for now? Just for a little longer?


    She wanted to catch those glimpses of her Malik¡ªher husband.


    The glimpses hiding deep within him, the rare few that made her fall in obsessive love.


    ''...One more time... just one more.''


    That was all she was asking for.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The world blinked.


    "Haa..."


    Malik let out a breath and his eyes dimmed as if he had confirmed something... bad?


    Shaking his head, he let those thoughts go forter and began to count down again:


    "Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six..."


    No more hesitation. He sucked in a sharp breath and prepared himself for entry.


    ''Five... Four... Three...''


    Malik didn''t even finish counting this time, opting to curl into himself instead.


    His face showed fear, not only at the incredible pain he was about to experience but also for the impossible he had to achieve.


    Then...


    "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH¡ª!"


    His scream resounded once more as his back was torn and bloodied.


    He pulled Huda even closer, practically squeezing the life out of her as he turned around and snapped his body into position, aiming straight for the nearest Aether pocket.


    Like clockwork, he was tossed around from one to another, flying through the air.


    He didn''t have the luxury of enjoying the ride; each twist of his body made him want to puke.


    Fortunately, there was nothing to puke, so he was fine in that regard.


    Each burst of Aether pped him around in a different way, even though he went at them with the same speed.


    Some pockets were like beingunched out of a cannon; others dragged him down, almost suffocating him in their pull. A few had sent him soaring up, while most mmed him close to the ground.


    But every time, no matter the result, he got closer.


    Closer to Sinbad.


    Closer to not screwing this up.


    And it wasn''t long before...


    "SINBAD!"


    Malik shot out, arm outstretched, muscles on fire, fingers just grazing the back of Sinbad''s shirt before yanking him in close.


    The boy was limp,pletely dead weight¡ªbut alive.


    That was all that mattered.@@novelbin@@


    ''...Now thest one.''


    Quickly scanning his surroundings, he found a pocket not so far away from the water, hung a fair distance below.


    Adorning his earlier posture, he tracked it like a hawk, angling his body just right.


    He, with sheer instinct alone, had calcted it, calcted everything, down to the millimeter.


    Bracing himself, Malik threw everything he had into the dive, piercing straight into the pocket.


    Then¡ªboom¡ªit hit him like a ton of bricks¡ªhis body flying forward, straight to the river.


    The water wasing up fast¡ªway too fast.


    "Shit!"


    But Malik didn''t panic.


    With every ounce of his strength, he twisted, using the momentum to steer them along the flow, hoping to lessen the impact.


    Closer.


    Closer.


    SPLASH!


    They hit the water hard.


    It felt like mming into a wall made of mercury.


    The air was knocked right out of him, and for a split second, he thought his chest was going to cave in.


    But then, the river took them in, swallowing the fall with a bone-shaking crash that sent exploding ripples all across the river''s surface.


    They sank. They survived. Finally... right?


    Wrong.


    Before Malik could even think about celebrating...


    ''...N-No.''


    A shadow passed overhead, and his blood ran cold.


    He craned his neck, squinting through the water.


    Something was moving above him. Big. Fast. Moving like a hunter would before a prey.


    The shadow circled back, and it didn''t take long for its shape to be clear¡ªa massive body slicing through the water like it was its home, its territory.


    Rows of jagged teeth glinted in its huge mouth that split open in the middle, making it seem impossibly wide.


    ''Oh,e on, as if I haven''t had enough!''


    The beast didn''t care about hisints.


    It was closing in, moving with the kind of speed that would''ve made anyone give up.


    But not Malik.


    He kicked hard, trying to propel himself and the kids out of the way.


    His muscles screamed, his lungs burned, and yet, his efforts were worthless.


    The shark-like creature had reached them, its jaws ready to swallow them whole.


    At thest moment, Malik twisted his body, flinging Sinbad and Huda away while pushing himself to it.


    ''I''ll¡ª''


    His final actions changed nothing.


    Its maw snapped shut around them before he could even form his final thought.


    His world vanished in a blur of water and crushing darkness.


    Then¡ªnothing.


    No dreams, just death.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "...Just how many times is he going to die?"

 Chapter 19 Lost Essence

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Ten... Nine... Eight... Seven... Six..."


    A countdown echoed in his mind, one that he grew too familiar with.


    "Five... Four... Three... Two¡ª"


    Like before, Malik didn''t finish and sucked in a sharp breath, biting down hard, refusing to make a sound.


    But unlikest time, he had seeded.


    He didn''t offer a scream to the firstyer''s warm wee, not even a whimper.


    Malik took it all, every ounce of pain and pressure¡ªhis eyes blown wide, staring at absolutely nothing.


    Then, just like that, he flipped midair and faced the endless green below, repeating the cycle.


    And right on cue, there he was¡ªSinbad, iling around.


    In what felt like a blink, the kid was back in his arms, deadweight as usual.


    ''Third time''s the charm, right?''


    He would''ve liked that to be the truth, but he knew¡ª


    ''No... focus!''


    Shaking his head, he ignored his hammering heart and his ragged breath, trying to think, calcte, ande up with a way to survive.


    The river was a no-go; even the shallower parts of it had monsters that could devour them with ease.


    Landing on the ground was the only way out of this mess, his only option.


    But the real question was... how?


    Just how could he go about pulling it off?


    Well, there was only one way to figure that out¡ªtrial and error.


    Dying. A whole lot of dying.


    Right, his life was officially a tool now.


    It had lost its essence, bing a means to an end.


    Surprisingly enough, that thought didn''t bother him as much as it probably should''ve.


    Perhaps it was because he was using it for good, to save someone other than himself.


    Or perhaps his brain just didn''t have the time to fully unpack the horror of what that actually meant.


    If Malik was asked, he''d surely im both.


    Because... all the heavy implications? Yeah, that was flying way over his head right now.


    None of it mattered to him.


    Why bother sweating the details when the only thing that was crystal clear was this:


    His deaths? Oh, they were going to be ugly. Real ugly.


    Now, he had to figure out something¡ªanything¡ªto soften thending or at least slow him down when he got close to the ground.


    His first ''genius'' idea? Spot an Aether pocket just above the surface, use it to shoot himself up a bit, and then drop down.@@novelbin@@


    Not exactly graceful and quite a bit harsher than he would''ve liked, but hey, desperate times, right?


    So, he went for it.


    Or, well... tried to.


    Turns out, there weren''t any Aether pockets close to the ground.


    "Fuck me..."


    SPLAT!


    Malik died.


    Blink.


    The fourth attempt actually started off kind of promising.


    Malik found a pocket near the ground.


    Progress?


    No, unfortunately...


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    His scream tore through the air as the pocket sted him out, his arms barely holding onto the kids for dear life.


    The impact felt like getting hit with a truckload of TNT all going off at once.


    His teeth rattled so hard it was a mystery how he didn''t bite clean through his tongue.


    "Fuuuuuuuuuuu¡ª!"


    He was sent spinning¡ªwildly, uncontrobly¡ªrocketing high into the air.


    Way too high for whatever half-baked n he''d cooked up to even consider working.


    Rather, he quickly realized that there was no chance he''d survive thending.


    His vision blurred, the edges darkening like someone dimmed the lights.


    ''Fuck...''


    Everything went ck for half a second.


    ''...Not again.''


    Malik gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay conscious, to fight through the dizziness.


    He had to stop spinning, had to get control, had to¡ª


    Yet that was impossible.


    The force was so strong that it sent him toward the ground like a ma.


    He couldn''t correct it. He couldn''t¡ª


    SPLAT!


    Blink.


    Malik was falling. Again.


    This time, he had a better idea of where to go, and it certainly wasn''t going to be the same path as thest one.


    ''No more surprises.''


    He tightened his grip on Huda and Sinbad, eyes scanning frantically for any other Aether pocket below.


    One after the other, he flew, keeping himself above ground much longer than before, trying to map out the best path even though his body felt like it was being torn apart with every transition.


    But that didn''tst for long.


    One pocket, even bigger than the one thatst killed him, had swallowed him whole and spat him out directly into the ground, ending his life before the pain could even hit.


    St!


    Blink.


    Attempt number sixsted longer than any before it.


    Malik managed to keep himself just a bit higher in the air to avoid any surprise "you''re-dead" pockets waiting to end his life.


    But it turns out... that was a huge mistake. Literally in a sense.


    Being in the sky for that long had attracted its owner... its Sultan.


    A collosi bird with ws the size of elephants and a beak that looked like it could snap a tree in half like a toothpick.


    ''What the actual fuck?!''


    Every p of its enormous brown-feathered wings sent crushing gusts of wind that sted him back like he was a paper airne.


    His momentum was gone, alongside his hope for surviving that attempt.


    He was sent spiraling out of control, plummeting toward the ground with nothing to slow him down.


    When he hit the dirt, it wasn''t just a st; it was like a thousand tons of rock decided to pile-drive him into the earth.


    Blink.


    "Not again, not again, not again."


    Malik repeated two words again and again like a mantra.


    His teeth ground together, desperate, absolutely desperate, to make this attempt count.


    Ignoring his building n, he turned to the river below.


    The surface shimmered, calling for him, tempting him almost.


    And damn it, he was tempted.


    Every death had left scars he couldn''t even begin to process.


    Even the ''painless'' ones had chipped away at something deep inside.


    He couldn''t take it anymore. He needed this to end¡ªone way or another.


    The next Aether pocket yanked him sideways, throwing him with that same brutal force.


    But this time, instead of letting it have its way, Malik fought back.


    The pull dragged him downward instead of forward, and for a second, he panicked.


    His body twisted violently midair, his muscles screaming in protest as he tried to angle them just right.


    ''C''MON! C''MON!''


    He had them lined up¡ªhe had them¡ª


    SPLASH!

 Chapter 20 I Told You...

    SPLASH!


    Water exploded everywhere as they crashed into the river.


    Malik took the hit first, his body mming into the surface to shield the kids.


    But it didn''t matter.


    The force rippled through him and reached them, pulling painful, choking coughs from their tiny lungs.


    ''Shit... no...''


    Hearing them struggle gutted him, but he couldn''tfort them.


    ''...Not now. Get it together!''


    His limbs weren''t moving; they couldn''t.


    ''No, no, no!''


    This was just like before¡ªtoo much like before.


    It couldn''t be happening. Not again.


    They were going to die!


    ''NO!''


    He thrashed, kicked, and fought the pull of the water with everything he had, but it was no use.


    Malik was wrecked¡ªtoo beat up, too drained to even try pulling off this kind of miracle.


    The river dragged him deeper, the pressure squeezing his chest until his lungs screamed for air.


    And then... a disaster happened.


    Huda and Sinbad slipped from his grasp.


    ''NO! NO! NO! NO!''


    His fingers wed at the water, desperate to reach them, but it was like trying to swim through tar.


    ''FUCK!''


    Their small forms faded into the dark currents not even three secondster.


    Click-click-click...


    All of a sudden, a shadow loomed over Malik, circling him, and blocking out the faint light from above.


    As if it were following some cruel script, the monster had decided to reveal itself at the worst possible moment.


    Malik... he recognized it at once.


    This was the same damn beast.


    Its teeth glinted like jagged knives, blindingly white, its massive maw gaping impossibly wide as it did earlier¡ªmocking him with every move.


    ''Fuck. You.''


    Darkness swallowed him whole.


    Blink.


    The same damn thing happened.


    Malik''s chest felt like it was going to cave in.


    How many more times could he do this?


    Each attempt dragged him closer to a breaking point he couldn''t even begin to define.


    His every muscle was betraying him.


    It was falling apart before anything could even happen, like they were expecting him to fail.


    The phantom aches of limbs that weren''t injured yet, the constant nausea, the flickering in and out of focus, and the haze of the world around him.


    He NEEDED this to end.


    Because if it didn''t, going insane would be the least of his worries.


    Malik sucked in a deep breath¡ªsomething that felt more like a gasp¡ªand forced himself to follow the path he''d marked out before.


    The one that had almost worked.


    He adjusted, angling his falls differently this time, calcting with what little energy and focus he had left.


    ''Just gotta time it right... Everything''s gotta be perfect...''


    But it wasn''t.


    It never was.


    Each time he thought he had it under control, something else went horribly wrong.


    Missed the next Aether pocket.


    Didn''t twist the right way.


    Didn''t brace enough.


    And in the end?


    The ground came up too fast, mming into him like a vengeful God''s fist.


    His body shattered.


    Again.


    Blink.


    His body was barely holding together now.


    The pain was unbelievable, but he didn''t care. It didn''t matter.


    All that mattered was¡ª


    St!


    They hit the ground.


    The cracks, the impact...


    It felt like being crushed by the whole world.


    Blink.


    Malik had stopped keeping track of the numbers a while ago.


    But if he hadn''t? He''d know this was attempt number ten.


    Death number eleven.


    One might expect him to have been broken by now, but...


    "Come on... Come on... Come ON!"


    He roared into the wind and hurled himself at the next Aether pocket like it was thest thing keeping him alive.


    And for the first time¡ªfinally¡ªit didn''t betray him.


    Something about this one felt different.


    Why?


    Because it worked.


    It actually sent him where he wanted to go.


    His path to safety was right there, so close he could almost taste it.


    Only one more Aether pocket stood between him and life.


    His heart thundered in his chest, each beat mming against his ribs.


    ''Just one more... just one.''


    Twisting mid-air, Malik angled his body perfectly this time.


    Not too fast, not too slow. His aim was dead-on as the pocket yanked him in.


    And then¡ª


    BOOM!


    It spat him out past a hill of jagged rocks and straight toward a thick mess of trees in the distance.


    His only chance at breaking the fall.


    Hisst hope to make it out alive.


    ''Three...''


    Malik''s eyes locked on a tree bending awkwardly to the side, standing out from the dense pack of green.


    ''Two...''


    It was his target.


    The one thing he was aimed toward.


    ''One!''


    Curling into himself, Malik squeezed Huda and Sinbad tightly into his chest, almost breaking their ribs.


    "GAAH¡ª!"


    The impact was brutal.


    His body mmed into the tree, the force cracking bones he didn''t even know he had.


    The tree bent further under the sheer force of his fall, creaking like it might snap.


    For a fleeting moment, everything slowed.


    But time had other ns.


    The tree rebounded, flinging Malik to the right, deeper into the patch of trees.


    He crashed into another tree before tumbling down, his back mming hard into the dirt below, the weight of Sinbad and Huda still cradled in his arms.


    And that''s when it hit him.


    It wasn''t just pain¡ªit was an all-epassing, white-hot freight train of agony.


    Every nerve screamed in protest, but Malik didn''t scream with them.


    He couldn''t.


    His breath whooshed out of him, and for a long moment, air refused to return to his lungs.


    "Haaaaaaah!"


    But an equally long momentter, he finally gasped, his chest rising and falling in short, ragged bursts.


    He clung to consciousness with sheer willpower, even as his vision blurred and darkened at the edges.


    Through the haze, he saw them.


    Sinbad. Huda.@@novelbin@@


    Still wrapped in his arms.


    Still alive.


    He had done it.


    They were safe.


    But the cost...


    "H-Hey."


    Malik whispered, the words slurring a little.


    "Told you I''d save you..."


    He pressed his dry lips to their foreheads, nting soft kisses on both of them.


    "I told you..."


    But as the words faded from his mouth, the pain became too much.


    His body gave in.


    The ground beneath him felt so oddly soft. So weing and inviting.


    His right hand twitched against the dirt before falling limp, but even in unconsciousness, his other hand stayed locked around the two.


    Malik saved them.


    ...He did.


    And the world turned dark.

 Chapter 21 Twelve

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "No, no, no, he couldn''t have died after all of that! HE CAN''T!"


    Huda''s wail of despair was heard by all.


    Her chest rose and fell so fast it looked like she was on the edge of hyperventting.


    She felt his pain¡ªevery bit of it, every moment of it¡ªliterally.


    From the very beginning till the end.


    As a result, she was going mental, just unable to take it anymore.


    Watching him die, again and again, was like having her heart ripped out repeatedly.


    She was barely holding it together.


    And the worst part? It wasn''t just the dying.


    It was his eyes¡ªhow they looked dimmer every single time, like he was giving up on himself, losing whatever value he had left in his life.


    If this kept going, he was going to stop caring about himself altogether.


    He would throw his life away for the most frivolous things.


    The consequences of that on his mind and soul were unfathomable.


    That was what hit her harder than anything else.


    She couldn''t handle it. Not this. Not him. Not like this.


    "Calm down, Lady Huda."


    Azeem''s tone was sharp yet still hollow, his facade long since crumbled.


    "Calm down?! How do you expect me to calm down?!"


    Huda stood up and spun toward him, her wide, tear-filled eyes boring into his.


    "That''s my brother in there! He keeps dying¡ªover and over and over!"


    Her breath hitched.


    "Do you know what that''s like? Do you?!"


    Azeem smiled.


    ''Oh, so he''s your brother again, now is he?''


    He wanted to say that so incredibly bad but held it in, knowing when not to talk.


    "I don''t. But think for a second... Something''s missing, is it not?"


    Pointing at the projection, where Malik''s broken bodyy motionless, he added:


    "The Sultan''s not dead yet. Look."


    All eyes quietly listening to the conversation turned back to the projection.


    Huda did so as well, her lips trembling as she tried to speak:


    "He... he looks... dead."


    Azeem nodded.


    "True, but the world hasn''t blinked... Until it does, Malik''s alive. He''s holding on."


    Most of the crowd had their eyes widened, only now realizing that fact.


    Azeem was right.


    The world in front of them had yet to blink.


    And though it didn''t seem like it, Malik still clung to life.


    Huda froze, her teary gaze glued to the projection, more specifically, her big brother.


    "He... He''s alive?"


    She whispered, as though not daring to hope.


    "Yeah."


    Azeem answered softly, cing his arms behind him as he leaned back and looked up at the ceiling.


    "Barely, sure. But damn if he didn''t just cheat death ten times in a row, or I guess eleven if you count the earlier one."


    Those words brought nofort to Huda, but she nodded stiffly, her body wound tighter than a spring.


    La and Safira, though, both let out shaky breaths they didn''t even realize they''d been holding.


    A slight feeling of relief washed over them, loosening muscles they hadn''t known were clenched.


    Malik had survived.


    It was a weird feeling, honestly¡ªbeing grateful that the guy who betrayed them was still breathing.


    But they felt it all the same.


    Noor and Roya didn''t have much to say, their expressions unreadable, while Zafar, the world''s "hero," stood there stewing in his own envy, looking like someone had just stolen his spotlight.


    ''If I only had this lucky bastard''s cheat! I would''ve used it so much better!''


    Nobody¡ªabsolutely nobody¡ªwould call Malik lucky, even with his freakish, miracle-like ability to cheat death.


    Well, that is, if they had a brain bigger than a peanut or were in their right mind.


    To everyone watching, except the little "hero," it seemed more like a curse, and Malik would''ve agreed.


    A curse that clung to him like a shadow, ready to drag him down until true death finally imed him.


    That seemed to be themon sentiment in the hall, too, as some random guy in the corner muttered loud enough for those around him to hear:


    "He was face to face with a Dandan and a Roc... Just how unlucky can one get?"


    "Forget unlucky; the man''s basically got a death wish stamped on his back."


    Chuckling, another chimed in, shaking her head in disbelief:


    "Sure, the Dandan was a baby, but still..."


    "A baby Dandan?"


    Some young girl repeated, her voice pitching higher as she continued to speak:


    "What does that even mean?! It was the size of a boat!"


    The one who first spoke smirked at his fellow guild member.


    "Oh, it gets much worse when they''re fully grown. That was just the appetizer. The main meal, its mother, is no smaller than the Roc."


    Zafar picked up on his words and decided to join in, attempting to lean the situation back to where it should''ve been:


    "Wasn''t he lucky to not have her awake then? After all, it might''ve broken his mind. He''s already struggling with just a few deaths."


    "Lucky?... JUST A FEW DEATHS?!"


    Huda had officially snapped, looking at Zafar like he was someone she didn''t know.


    "He died eleven times! How is that ''just a few?!''"


    "..."


    He had noeback for that.


    It wasn''t that Zafar couldn''t argue¡ªoh, he could.


    But even he wasn''t dumb enough to try. Not now.


    Their rtionship was already hanging by a thread, and saying one wrong word would snap itpletely.


    And if that happened? Well, there went all his grand ns for building his harem.


    Noor had already cut ties with him, which left just Huda, Roya, and Safira.


    Zafar couldn''t afford to lose any more. Not a single one.


    It wasn''t exactly a stretch to say he was thinking with his dick rather than his brain.


    Even in this tense situation, gettingid was most of what he thought about.


    "The Sultan''s still breathing, isn''t he?"


    But Azeem didn''t give a damn about any of that¡ªnot Huda''s rtionship with Zafar, and certainly not Zafar''s dumbass n to build his little harem.


    "And you''re here, alive."


    His words silenced the hallpletely.


    "He did that for you. Don''t let his sacrifice go to waste by losing control."


    Huda sniffled, wiping her face with both hands.


    "I don''t want him to sacrifice himself for me. I just... I just want him to hate me, bully me, betray me... Anything but this. But now, knowing what really happened..."


    She paused, her breath hitching.


    "I can only me myself. If it wasn''t for me, my uncle would still be alive."


    Safira wanted so badly to mutter, "We all do," but had somehow managed to stop herself.


    Jealousy was ugly¡ªno, jealousy at this level was monstrous, and she didn''t want to expose that side of herself to anyone.


    La smiled at Huda and nced back at the projection where Maliky motionless.


    "But my husband... He''s not the kind of guy to give up, no matter what."


    Noor agreed, though not for the same reason:@@novelbin@@


    "That''s what makes him dangerous. The kind of dangerous that doesn''t stop until the job is done."


    Huda fell silent, staring at the projection as if it held all the answers she was desperate to find.


    Her hands sped tightly together, her knuckles white.


    "He told me once..."


    Her voice was barely audible.


    "He told me he''d always protect me, no matter what. I thought it was just his way of rubbing salt in the wound back then, but now... now he''s proving it. He did everything he could to save me."


    Her head dropped, and the sadness on her face cut deeper than her words.


    "So what... what made him give up? What b-broke his mind?"


    The hall went utterly still.


    Somehow, the question hung heavy over everyone, sinking into their thoughts like a stone dropped into a deep well.


    They were dying to know the answer¡ªbut terrified of it at the same time.


    Sure, it was just the firstyer, but they''d already seen something that strayed so far from normal in the first ten or so hours of his memories.


    What else could be lurking deeper? What if it got worse?


    No one wanted to face it, to confront whatever or whoever had broken someone they viewed as stronger than themselves.


    So yes, it wasn''t just curiosity. It was fear.


    Incredible, paralyzing fear.

 Chapter 22 Nothing But Grass

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik fluttered his eyes open, meeting the bright light of their star.


    The dull ache of his entire body made even that feel like climbing a mountain.


    He nced down to see Sinbad staring up at him, still held to his chest, his wide, tear-filled eyes filled with so much emotion it almost made him wince.


    "...You''re crying again."


    Malik''s voice was a gravelly rasp as he forced himself to grin.


    "What, you thought I was done for?"


    Sinbad sniffled and swiped at his face with the back of his hand, his cheeks streaked with dirt and dried tears.


    "You looked dead!"


    Malik chuckled weakly.


    "Dead people don''t wake up, kiddo."


    "You weren''t even breathing!"


    Sinbad shot back, his voice cracking halfway through like he was trying to yell and cry all at once.


    "Eh, fair point."


    Malik admitted, shifting just a little¡ªand instantly regretting it.


    Fresh waves of pain lit him up like fireworks, but he swallowed it down.


    "But hey, tenth time''s the charm, right?"


    Sinbad red at him.


    "Tenth time? I¡ªI don''t even know what the hell that''s supposed to mean, but I can tell you right now, it''s not funny."


    "Never said it was."


    Malik let his eyes drift shut for a few seconds like even keeping them open was exhausting.


    That was when he noticed it¡ªhis left arm still wrapped around the kids.


    With a groan, he released the two, who immediately flopped to the side.


    He pushed himself up with his elbows, wincing as rising pain shot through him, but he ignored it.


    Out of habit, his eyes scanned their surroundings before theynded on Huda.


    "Guess you two decided I''m your personal heater, huh?"


    She was curled up against his side, her small hand gripping what little was left of his tattered robes.


    For a moment, a faint smile flickered across his face.


    It wasn''t much, but it was there.


    Then his gaze shifted to Sinbad, and the smile vanished.


    A memory had made itself known in his mind.


    "...You okay? No Aether whips, broken bones, or anything?"


    Sinbad hesitated, then nodded.


    "I-I''m fine. Y-Y-Y-You?"


    "Me?"


    Malik let out a bitterugh.


    "I''m a walking disaster. Here, help me out."


    Sinbad scrambled to his feet, wobbling slightly as he grabbed Malik''s arm.


    Together, they managed to get him sitting upright.


    Malik hissed sharply, ncing down at his leg, where a bone was sticking out at an angle it definitely shouldn''t have been.


    "That... that doesn''t look right."


    Sinbad mumbled, looking like he might puke.


    "Yeah, no kidding."


    Malik said, reaching down and gripping the bone with both hands.


    "Wait, what are you¡ª?"


    CRACK!


    "FUUU¡ª"


    Malik bit down on his tongue, his vision swimming as he shoved the bone back into ce.


    He breathed heavily through his nose, the taste of blood on his tongue.


    "Are you okay?!"


    Sinbad stared at him, wide-eyed.


    "Peachy... Now, give me a second."


    Tearing off a dangling part of his robe, Malik used it to clean the wounds on his back, wiping away any lingering blood.


    Then, after a few minutes of cracking and shuffling, he managed to get to his feet, though every movement still sent incredible jolts of pain through his body.


    "Alright, let me just..."


    He leaned down, trying to scoop up Huda.


    His arms tensed, but his body had other ideas.


    The second he tried to lift her, his knees nearly buckled.


    "Shit..."


    Malik barely managed to stay upright, holding himself on a nearby tree.


    He huffed in frustration, shaking his head.


    "Okay, fine. n B. Come on, we need to find somewhere to hole up for a bit."


    Sinbad didn''t need a second reminder.


    Silently, he knelt down, carefully scooping Huda up and slinging her onto his back.


    Malik gave a nod, clearly grateful but too stubborn to say it outright.


    He limped ahead, leading the way deeper into the patch of trees, while Sinbad followed close behind.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "...Wow."


    "It''s no wonder he became the Sultan."


    "After all that, heughs it off like it''s nothing. Even cracking jokes."


    "Yeah, like it didn''t even phase him."


    "Is he really just a normal beggar? No way. Not even the toughest kids from the strongest families could pull that off."


    "I mean,e on¡ªhis temperament? That''s on another level. Honestly, it''s better than half the rookies in our guild."


    "Agreed. There''s no way someone like himes from nothing. No normal kid survives all that and still looks untouchable afterward."


    Those who didn''t hold much of a grudge against the Sultan started throwing outpliments.


    But unlike Zafar''s usual yes-men, these weren''t just ttery¡ªthey were genuine.


    Even though they all saw him as evil, their words couldn''t stop slipping out, like their brains refused to deny what their minds believed.


    Meanwhile, up front in the hall, a certain someone wasn''t exactly joining in on the chatter.


    She was curled up tight, her head buried between her knees. Her fingers gripped the fabric of her dress, and her eyes darted between the ground and the projection like she was trying to convince herself of something.


    ''I know... I know he didn''t take them with me...''


    It was Huda, and she was going through it.


    ''But... uncle was kind. He must''ve helped them out a lot before he left... He must''ve...''


    She bit her lip hard, her breathsing quicker, trying to steady herself.


    ''I''m sure.''


    But no matter how much she tried to believe it, the tremble in her hands told a different story.


    "...I''m sure."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The center of the grove held a surprise.


    Beneath the shade of the trees was a hidden entrance to an underground cave.


    The cool air wafting from it was a blessing after the scorching heat outside.


    Malik didn''t hesitate, limping down the uneven slope with Sinbad and Huda close behind.


    The cave was spacious, its walls glistening faintly with moisture.


    Sinbadid Huda down on a smooth patch of stone, and Malik lowered himself beside her with a groan.


    He let his head fall back, his chest rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath.


    It was quiet... peaceful.


    ''This... wait¡ªno.''


    But that feeling shattered when he finally noticed that Huda''s skin was unnaturally warm.


    Malik had realized it thiste only because he seemed to have forgotten what ''cool'' was.


    And now, that he was reintroduced to it, he finally realized.


    He touched her forehead, his heart sinking.


    "She''s burning up... probably sick since yesterday."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "No wonder she didn''t remember anything¡­ she was sick the whole time."


    "So you''re telling me that they stayed there for long?"


    "Maybe. At this point, we can''t trust everything the Lady''s said about this anymore."


    It was subtle, whispered among only a few, but the doubt was spreading through the crowd like wildfire.


    Time after time, Huda''s words had been proven wrong, chipped away piece by piece, and now?


    Now, they were finding out her uncle¡ªthe Goddamn Sultan himself¡ªtook forever just to reach the firstyer of Al-Fawra.


    ''What''s that?''


    ''A joke?''


    ''What, did he get stuck in traffic?''


    Everyone knew better than to actually say the truth out loud, but it was clear enough.


    Huda''s camp knew that as well.


    They couldn''t say anything and neither could their Lady.


    Huda was stiff and silent, her head down, her face pale.


    She didn''t meet anyone''s gaze.


    She didn''t try to exin herself.


    She just sat there, holding on to her knees like it was the only thing tethering her to reality, praying.


    ''Uncle... please!''


    Her thoughts screamed in her head.


    ''Just one thing. Let one thing be true. Please¡­ otherwise¡­ I don''t know¡ª''


    Huda didn''t know how much longer she could hold it together.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik turned his head to tell Sinbad¡ªbut the boy was already asleep, curled up beside his sister, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.


    "Figures."


    He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.


    "Mhhmmm..."


    A faint whimper drew his attention back to Huda.


    Her lips moved, barely forming words:


    "Water... I need... water..."


    Malik''s chest tightened.


    ''Wait...''


    He reached for the gourd tucked under his robe, only to find just a few bits of it remaining, dry bits at that.


    "Damn it."


    Tossing the useless pieces aside, he got close to the wall and dragged himself up.


    Malik then limped out of the cave, his body aching like he''d just wrestled a mountain¡ªand lost.


    Every step was a battle, his legs wobbling, threatening to buckle under him.


    He stumbled through the grove, squinting at the shadows between the trees like they might suddenly cough up what he needed most.


    "Come on, just one lousy fruit,"


    Malik swiped at the lower branches.


    His fingers brushed against dry bark and brittle leaves.


    Not even an alien berry. Not even a bug.


    The trees seemed to mock him, standing tall and useless.


    "Of course... it''s never easy."


    He kicked at a root sticking out of the dirt, but immediately regretted it, hopping on one foot as pain shot through his toes.


    "Ow! You stupid¡ªargh!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Most people couldn''t help it¡ªtheyughed, whether with him or at him, savoring the rare moments of levity.


    "Ahahahaha! Even he could do things like that, huh?"


    "Right? I almost forgot the Sultan was just a kid!"


    "Yeah¡­ it''s hard to believe, especially with those eyes of his."


    "The way he looked at those ve-traders¡ªsheesh."


    "Heh~ No kidding. It''s like looking at twopletely different people."


    Even the ones once closest to him, his disciple and his ex-wife, who had spent the entire projection fighting back tears, found themselves smiling¡ªsoft, fragile smiles that betrayed a quiet relief.


    For just a moment, the heavy, suffocating air of the hall lifted.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Determined, or maybe just too stubborn to quit, Malik pressed on.


    He wed through shrubs, cursed at vines that snagged his robe, and even tried sniffing the air like some wild animal, hoping to catch a whiff of water.


    Nothing. Not even a damp breeze.


    And when he finally broke free of the grove, he stopped dead in his tracks.


    "You''ve got to be kidding me."@@novelbin@@

 Chapter 23 Wetting Her Lips

    The world had... shifted. No jagged rocks, no familiar terrain.


    Just endless grassy hills rolling under a sky that seemed way too big.


    It was t. Empty. Deste.


    "You really have got to be fucking kidding me!"


    Malik turned in a slow circle, hoping to spot something¡ªa stream, a puddle, a patch of mud; even a mirage would do.


    Nope. Just grass. Miles and miles of boring, dry grass.


    "Hahahahaha¡ªFuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!"


    His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth as he licked his cracked lips.


    "If God exists like those annoying-ass preachers say... then I''m sure ''He'' hates me."


    Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he tried to calm himself down:


    "Alright, Malik... This is fine. You''re fine. You''re not gonna die out here, and Huda''s definitely not gonna die because you suck at finding water. Nope. Not happening."


    His pep talk wasn''t great, but it was all he had.


    With a shaky breath, he pushed forward, his worn sandals crunching against the brittle, sun-bleached grass beneath his feet.


    The dry air clung to his skin, and sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes.


    He wiped at it with his robes, though it didn''t help much.


    "...Maybe over that hill."


    A hill among many loomed ahead, its incline steep.


    Malik decided it was as good a direction as any¡ªbetter than standing still and admitting defeat.


    He began the climb, his legs shaking all the way up.


    And when he reached the top, he stopped again, exacerbated.


    More grass.


    Malik stared at it, his hands on his hips, his chest heaving.


    "This ce is a joke. A bad one."


    He squatted down, grabbed a handful of grass, yanked it out of the ground, and threw it as hard as he could.


    It fluttered pathetically in the breeze before settling a few feet away.


    "Cool. Yeah, real funny. Real freaking funny."


    Heughed, a bitter, broken sound.


    Still, he didn''t stop.


    Malik wandered further, the sun beating down on him, his skin prickling with heat.


    His robe felt like it weighed a ton, but he didn''t dare take it off.


    After what felt like hours, he stumbled to a stop.


    He swayed on his feet, blinking at the horizon.


    Still nothing. Still just grass.


    Malik dropped to his knees and mmed his fists into the dirt.


    "Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!"


    With a final punch, he flipped, rxing his back on the ground in defeat.


    But then, as hey there, cursing under each heavy breath, something clicked in his head.


    ''I need to get back... I really can''t leave them for long.''


    He sighed.


    ''Huda needs me. Sinbad needs me... and this? It''s wasting time.''


    Time was something they didn''t have.


    Certainly true, but still, that would be the case only if Malik''s time-looping ability wasn''t taken into ount.


    But it seemed that even though he had acknowledged it as a tool, he still wasn''t going to rely on it the first time something tough happened.


    After all, if he did that, tomorrow might nevere.


    "Ugh..."


    Grimacing, he pushed himself back up, his legs trembling like jelly.


    "...Alright."


    He turned back toward the grove.


    "n C it is. Whatever that is."


    His walk back was slower, heavier, every step weighted with failure.


    By the time he stumbled into the cave again, his legs gave out entirely, and he copsed onto his knees beside Huda.


    She hadn''t moved.


    Neither had Sinbad.


    "Sorry, kids... I''m fucked."


    After resting for a few minutes, he pushed himself up and leaned towards Huda.


    ''Should I just give her my blood?...''


    Malik shook his head.


    ''No, it''s too thick; it might even kill her.''


    He hesitated for a second, staring down at her chapped lips and flushed face.


    "She''s gonna hate me for this... If you remember thister, we''re both agreeing it never happened, but for now, you gotta hang on, alright?"


    And with that warning, Malik did the only thing he could.


    Leaning in, he licked her lips, his face scrunching up like he''d just eaten something sour.


    Her skin was hot¡ªlike, "set your tongue on fire" hot¡ªand he fought the urge to recoil.


    "Ugh, why do you have to taste like the desert?"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Everyone remained quiet and slowly turned their eyes to Huda, one of the four "heroines."


    A maiden of well-known renown.


    She was believed to have been untouched, not even a single kiss throughout her many hundred years of life.


    Now, however?


    Everyone in the world saw her gobble up Malik''s tongue like it was candy, wanting to extract all the moisture that was left, which wasn''t much at all.


    Though she was just a child, the scene still impacted most who saw it.


    Especially her camp, Safira, and Zafar, though for very different reasons.


    "It''s fine, Lady Huda! Nobody will count that as their first kiss!"


    "She''s right, my Lady. You are as pure as the day you were born."


    "There''s no need to feel embarrassed, Lady Huda."


    The closest of them tried to soothe, or rather, appease, the frozen Huda, while those at the back did something simr for the crowd, forcing them to forget what they saw.


    Safira, meanwhile, looked at Huda with jealousy.


    Right... it was that bad.


    And Zafar wasn''t any better.


    His eyes remained on the projection, seething with envy.


    ''Bastard! His hand all over my fucking wife!''


    Huda wasn''t his wife, and nor was Malik''s hand all over her, but again, the "hero" wasn''t thinking straight.


    "We sure he isn''t just taking advantage of¡ª"


    "Shut the fuck up, you retarded bastard!"


    "Anyone can see that''s not true."


    As the random trio arguing in the back had said, no one in the hall, or even beyond, could honestly im that Malik did this for sexual reasons, much to Zafar''s dismay.


    If anything, he seemed disgusted by it.


    And that, for whatever bubbling reason, had annoyed Huda the most.


    Whether it was effective or not didn''t register in anyone''s mind, like hey, he was at least trying, right?


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "This is officially the worst thing I''ve ever done... and that''s saying something."


    Huda stirred slightly, her body loosening up as her ragged breathing evened out a little.


    Malik sat on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and trying not to think too hard about what he''d just done.


    "Alright, rx for a bit. You owe me big time, you hear? Like¡­ forever big."


    He nced over at Sinbad, who was still curled up and snoring softly.


    "And you, little man."


    Malik pointed a shaky finger at him.


    "You better wake up soon and start pulling your weight. I''m not cut out for this babysitting crap."


    With that, he let himself slump back against the cool wall as exhaustion imed him.


    His body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry in the sun.


    Every muscle ached, every joint protested.


    He tilted his head back, staring at the dark ceiling above.


    "This is what I get for trying to be a hero... Should''ve just stayed out of it. Let someone else save the day."


    Even as he said those words, he knew it was a lie.


    There was no "someone else" that would''ve saved the day.


    It was just him.


    And unfortunately for whatever aspirations he had before this, he couldn''t walk away.


    Not from them. Not from anyone.


    That wasn''t who he was, no matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise.


    "You guys better make it..."


    "..."


    "You hear me? I didn''t haul your little butts here just for you to check out now... You''re not... allowed. That''s... that''s an order!"


    Thest word came out all wobbly, like his vocal cords had just given up.


    He swallowed hard, his throat dry and scratchy, blinking fast to keep his eyes from stinging too much.


    ''Can''t sleep... no. Not yet...''


    Malik dragged a dirty hand down his face.


    The gesture didn''t help much¡ªit just smeared sweat and dirt around, making his cheeks sticky.


    ''Not until I make sure...''


    His knees wobbled, and he let himself sink, his feet spreading wide, trying to anchor him to the ground.


    ''...They''re... okay...''


    He blinked.


    ''Jus''... five seconds.''


    ''...Just five.''


    And then, just like that, the fight was over.


    ''That''s all~.''@@novelbin@@


    His eyes mmed shut like someone hit a switch.


    ''...''


    ''...''


    ''...''


    Malik had fallen asleep.

 Chapter 24 Cursed To live

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "I swear to God, I can''t believe he''s a twelve-year-old."


    "Right? Twelve, my ass. The Sultan''s been acting like he''s pushing ny since day one."


    "You think... maybe... some dude switched souls with him or something? Like, y''know, transmigrated and all that?


    "Hah! Maybee~! Would exin why he''s been treating everyone not rted to him like disposable extras."


    For all intents and purposes, the vibe in the hall had shifted.


    People were rxed on the surface, like they were watching some gritty art-house flick instead of a boy breaking himself into pieces to keep his siblings alive.


    But it was fake, every bit of it.


    Everyone could feel that buzzing tension, coiled somewhere deep, but no one wanted to admit it.


    They wordlessly decided to avoid the elephant in the hall.


    It was easier to crack jokes than acknowledge how much their hands were shaking¡ªor how bad it felt watching a kid go through Hell.


    Because if they did? Their heads might fry like Malik''s apparently had.


    So they did what people do: talk. Throw out theories. Crack jokes.


    Anything to make it feel a little less raw.


    "Bet he''s gonna find water, though."


    "Man, I don''t think he''s gonna make it over that hill, honestly."


    "You kidding? Plot armor, dude. Plot armor!"


    Even those who weren''t the talkative type did the same.


    But not everyone was joining in.


    The ''named?''


    Oh, they weren''t cracking jokes. Not even close.


    If anything, the more they watched the peaceful scene before them, the stiffer they got, like someone had poured concrete into their veins.


    All had different reasons but they shared one thing.


    Fear.


    Sure, they had Azeem as their spy and Roya, THE broker, with them in the coalition.


    They felt that it was natural that they had seeded in trapping Malik.@@novelbin@@


    But the more they saw of his actions back then, the more they doubted their sess.


    ...Did the Sultan actually have something to get himself out?


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik, who just woke up from a quick nap, sat on the ground, legs sprawled out like he had just finished a marathon in the middle of the desert¡ªwhich, honestly, wasn''t far off.


    His head lolled back against the wall, and for the first time since the whole nightmare started, he actually let himself think.


    Not about the kids, or the cave, or how he was going to survive the next five minutes.


    No, he thought about it.


    The whole "return by death" thing.


    His lips twisted into a bitter grin.


    "Something that I had since birth? A Blessing maybe? God might actually like me..."


    He chuckled, unable to even finish that sentence.


    "My ass, this shit is a full-blown curse."


    Sure,ing back to life sounded nice on paper.


    A second chance to fix things, to survive, to make it all better.


    And that was true... mostly.


    Because sometimes it wasn''t ''fixing'' anything¡ªit was just reliving the same horrible moment over and over.


    Every death. Every failure. Every mistake.


    What if there weren''t any Aether pockets? How would he have survived then?


    He wouldn''t have, simple as that.


    The cycle would''ve repeated until he lost his mind or until his curse was taken away.


    That was a horrifying thought, especially since he had gotten pretty close to reaching that state.


    "And the best part?"


    He added, talking to no one but the cave walls.


    "I can''t even control it. Those checkpoints might even be utterly random."


    Malik felt a shiver run down his spine as a thought couldn''t help bute to his mind.


    ''If the checkpoints are random, then what stops them from saving at thepletely wrong time?''


    ''...''


    ''...Nothing.''


    ''This curse... I can''t trust it. It''s a tool, yes, but it needs to be myst one.''


    Nodding his head at that decision, he nced at the two little ones.


    "They can''t know. There''s no need. Besides... who''s gonna believe me?"


    He thought about them for a second, imagining their wide-eyed stares if he ever dropped that truth bomb.


    "Yeah, nah, that''d go over real well~."


    Huda would probably call him crazy.


    Sinbad would cry, or worse, start asking questions he didn''t have answers to.


    Questions like, ''How did you get it?'' or, ''Does it affect just our or the entire universe?'' or even, ''If that''s true, then isn''t it a power of a God? After all, only a God can affect another.''


    ...He would be right with thest one.


    "Nope."


    Malik shook his head.


    "Not telling ''em. Ever."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "...That''s it? That''s really why he didn''t tell them?"


    "Honestly? Weak. I expected, like, a better reason."


    "Same... Thought it''d be more interesting. Some crazy w. Maybe like, he couldn''t say anything about it without the universe exploding or something."


    "You idiots."


    Someone cursed from the back, his voice interrupting the murmurs.


    "Are you all blind or just dumb?"


    "What?!"


    "You dare?!"


    Clicking his tongue, a bearded man stepped forward just enough to make himself known.


    He pointed at the projection, at Malik''s face.


    "Look! Look at his face!"


    Everyone turned back to the projection, where Malik was smiling at his siblings.


    But even a child could see it¡ªthat smile didn''t reach his eyes.


    "He''s sad, you morons... Isn''t it obvious he''s making excuses? You really think he didn''t tell them because of some dumb w or whatever? Nah. He didn''t tell them because he doesn''t want to guilt-trip them."


    "...What?"


    The man sighed, rubbing his temples like he couldn''t believe Magi like them were a part of the coalition.


    "Think about it. He tells them what he''s really been doing, what it''s costing him, and then what? They feel guilty. They start treating him different. Maybe they even stop leaning on him, and then he''s all alone and feels useless. He''d hate that more than anything."


    Another man next to him began to nod.


    "True, true. He''s basically carrying all the emotional baggage so they don''t have to. Think of it like a sacrifice¡ªbut, y''know, not the ''heroic death'' kind. More... emotional."


    Those guys went on and on while watching as the projection hadn''t yet paused.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik let out a long sigh, dragging a hand through his tangled hair of gold.


    "Alright, pity party over. Focus up. Kids need water, and I''m not dying of thirst in this Godforsaken cave."


    He nced at the broken gourd sitting beside him.


    One jagged piece was still intact, big enough to hold a small amount of water.


    "This''ll have to do."


    He grabbed it and hauled himself to his feet.


    His knees protested, but he ignored them, squinting into the dark depths of the cave.


    "Okay, Malik... Time to be the hero again~."


    His words attempted to make light of the situation, rx his mind a little, but it didn''t work, not one bit.


    Worry was obvious on his face as he trudged forth through the cave.


    It stretched on like the throat of some ancient beast¡ªtight and choking in some parts, then yawning open into massive, jagged spaces that made one feel like an ant under a giant''s foot.


    The deeper he went, the cooler the air got, slick and mmy like someone breathing down his neck.


    Every so often, he''d hear a distant screech or the scrape of something shifting in the dark.


    Each sound ricocheted off the stone walls, turning whispers into roars and making his skin crawl with goosebumps.


    It certainly wasn''t the kind of ce one would go for fun.


    Of course, not unless they were, well, a Seeker.


    Malik pressed on, and after a few minutes, he started noticing little signs¡ªtiny droplets clinging to the walls, the floor slightly darker, like it was drinking in the moisture.


    It wasn''t much, but it was enough to keep him going.


    Minutes stretched, and his throat continued to burn like he''d been swallowing fistfuls of sand with every step.


    He rubbed at his neck, trying not to think about just how dry his mouth was or how heavy the air felt in his chest.


    Every other minute, he tilted his head, straining his ears for the sound of water, something, anything.


    At first, there was nothing.


    Just his own breathing, the screeches, and the soft shuffle of his sandals.


    Then¡ªplink¡ªwas that a drip?

 Chapter 25 Too Kind For His Own Good

    ''...A-Am I hallucinating?!''


    He paused, cocking his head to the side.


    Plink...


    Another drip.


    Plink...


    Then another.


    Faint, irregr, like a broken clock ticking somewhere far off.


    ''Finally!''


    His pace quickened, though he had to keep ducking and weaving through the narrowing tunnels.


    The sound got louder, sharper, until the drips turned into a soft, steady plink-plink-plink.


    He rounded a bend, and there it was¡ªa corner of the cave where water dripped from the ceiling, one drop at a time, into a small, clear pool.


    It wasn''t much to look at.


    Just a shallow basin carved into the rock, maybe by time, maybe by some long-forgotten hand.


    The water looked clean too, like it had been naturally filtered throughyers of rocks.


    It was so still and clear that it seemed fake.


    ''Guess I''m not gone just yet.''


    Relief washed over Malik, but it didn''tst long.


    Guarding the water was a cluster of creatures that could''ve walked straight out of one of those tales he heard from his guardian.


    They looked like humanoid lizards mixed with bats¡ªskin leathery and stretched taut over their bones, eyes glowing faintly in the dark.


    Their mouths were filled with jagged teeth that didn''t seem to fit their faces, and their ws scraped the cave floor with a grating, metallic sound.


    ''Oh,e on!''


    Malik crouched low.


    ''Really? You guys need this more than I do?''


    The monsters didn''t seem to notice him, too busypping at the water with long, forked tongues.


    Malik waited, heart pounding, until they shuffled off to another corner, their strange screeches echoing softly.


    Quiet as a shadow, he crept forward, keeping his breath shallow.


    He dipped the broken gourd into the water and scooped it full.


    Malik could feel the dryness in his own throat, the desperate burn for just a sip, but he ignored it.


    Remaining a second longer in that exposed position wasn''t a risk he was willing to take.


    Moreover, his mind was too focused on bringing back water to the kids that he had forgotten about himself.


    Slowly, he backed away, every step slightly quicker than thest.


    And, when he was far enough from the creatures, he bolted.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "What the fuck is he thinking?!"


    "Drink a bit for yourself! Are you trying to die?!""


    "Who''ll take care of them if you get knocked out?"


    "Where did his smarts go?!"


    Almost half the crowd was losing their collective minds, throwing outints like they were personally offended by Malik''s choices.


    And the other half? Oh, they were just as loud, but for the opposite reason.


    "Okay, hold up. Are you guys even thinking about how he feels right now?"


    "Right?! It might not be the smartest move but look at it from his perspective for a second!"@@novelbin@@


    "Exactly! You think it''s easy to fill your belly first when Lady Huda and her little brother are literally dying of thirst?"


    "And he wasn''t being stupid! What if he''d stayed one second longer? Those Ahools might''ve ripped him to shreds! Then what? Huh?!"


    It seemed that they really becamefortable with the situation, casually arguing about the dumbest things, with the kind of passion only armchair warriors could muster.


    They weren''t even focused on the projection anymore.


    "You''re just making excuses for him!"


    "Yeah! Stop defending the bastard!"


    "No, you stop acting like you''d have done any better!"


    "He¡ª"


    "Quiet."


    But that appeared to be too chaotic for Noor''s liking.


    Her one word quietened down the hall, disying her influence as an emperor.


    While that title fell short before the Sultan, she was still a big deal in her own right.


    Rather, the biggest deal after him, at least regarding vassal power and influence.


    "You might feel closer to the boy in front of you after seeing his highs and lows, but keep in mind..."


    Her throne turned around to face the crowd and her eyes scanned their faces.


    "He''s the Sultan. He''s not your friend. He''ll never be your friend. Even back then, hundreds of years ago, he was above you, so do treat him with respect."


    The hall turned a tad bit colder.


    "I''m not telling you not to curse him; do that as much as you like. I''m sure I would, but..."


    An invisible pressure was set upon them, forcing their heads down.


    "Disrespecting him is tantamount to disrespecting me... is that understood?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    No one responded to her words.


    It was not that they didn''t want to, but couldn''t.


    The pressure she unleashed upon them rattled them from top to bottom, halting their muscles.


    Those who weren''t as affected, which were most of the older Magi, didn''t reply either.


    They knew better than to.


    "If you''re all done screaming like a bunch of drunk Ahools, maybe watch the damn projection. Or is that too much to ask?"


    Then, with a smile that didn''t reach her eyes¡ªvisible even behind her veil¡ªshe added:


    "Didn''t think so."


    Noor turned the floating throne around to face the projection once more.


    She didn''t actually care about the "disrespect" they showed.


    What bothered her was them acting like there were only two options.


    Malik could''ve used his other hand to drink while scooping up the water at the same time.


    While it might risk the Ahool hearing a few extra droplets, the sound wasn''t distinct enough to get him caught.


    ''...Is he just a hero wannabe like Zafar? Or did that idea note to mind? That doesn''t make much sense, though. He''s shown himself to be incredibly smart, even back then, so I can''t see it.''


    Noor could already guess the real reason, but she just couldn''t believe it to be true.


    ''There''s no way someone can be that selfless, right?''


    Noor''s fingers tightened slightly on the armrest of her throne as she watched the projection.


    Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let out a slow, almost imperceptible sigh.


    She could already hear the arguments her advisors would throw at herter.


    They''d call Malik reckless, na?ve, or worse¡ªuse him of grandstanding.


    And honestly? She''d agree with some of it.


    But watching him in that moment, giving every ounce of his strength to save those kids, it didn''t strike her as an act of bravado or stupidity.


    It struck her as real.


    Noor leaned back, letting the faint tension bleed out of her shoulders.


    ''He''s not just doing this for them... He''s doing this because he''s terrified of failing. Because somewhere in his head, he''s convinced himself that their safety is his responsibility alone. Even if it costs him everything.''


    Her fingers rxed and drummed lightly against the throne''s edge.


    The pressure she''d unleashed on the crowd wasn''t just for their "disrespect;" it was also to quiet her own swirling thoughts.


    ''Why didn''t he think about this? It''s obvious that he''s going to burn out at some point. A death will break him. What then? Did he ever think about that?''


    For a moment, just a moment, her expression softened beneath the veil.


    Then it hardened again.


    "Damn fool."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik went back through the twisting tunnels, back toward the faint light of the cave''s entrance.


    By the time he reached Huda and Sinbad, he was gasping for air, his legs trembling beneath him.


    He knelt beside Huda first, tilting the gourd to her cracked lips.


    "Drink up, kid; you''re not dying today."


    She drank weakly, her small hands clutching at his like she thought he might take it away.


    Malik didn''t pull back until a little more than half of it was gone, then moved to Sinbad, coaxing him to sip as well.


    Only when they were both settled did he realize he hadn''t taken a single drop for himself.


    He leaned back against the wall, staring at the gourd in his hands, a wry grin tugging at his lips.


    "Guess I really am too kind for my own good..."


    Heughed, his eyes slowly drooping until the cool air imed him and he fell into sleep.

 Chapter 26 Cold Paradise

    Malik didn''t even remember falling asleep. Again.


    One moment he was sitting against the cave wall, trying to convince himself that everything was fine¡ªthat he could handle this¡ªand the next, he was out cold.


    When he woke up, it wasn''t because of a peaceful sunrise or even his body deciding it was rested.


    "Please..."


    Nope, it was because Sinbad was shaking him, his small hands gripping his arm hard enough to bruise.


    "...brother!"


    Sinbad''s voice was high and shaky, like he''d been holding in his fear for hours.


    "Big brother, wake up! Please wake up!"


    Malik blinked blearily, his mind dragging itself out of the fog called exhaustion.


    "Wha¡ªwhat?"


    He mumbled, trying to sit up.


    "What''s wrong? Did I die?"


    Sinbad sniffled, his wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.


    "I thought you did! You wouldn''t wake up!"


    A faint smile tugged at Malik''s lips, feeling d¨¦j¨¤ vu.


    He didn''t mean to say thatst part out loud, but oh well.


    "Nah, still kicking. Promise."


    Malik reached out, ruffling Sinbad''s hair.


    "Good job waking me up, though. What''s going on?"


    Sinbad pointed toward the cave''s depths, his finger trembling.


    "Monsters. I''ve been hearing them for a while, but now they''re really close. I didn''t know what to do."


    KEEI... KEEI...


    Malik perked up when a familiar screech echoed as if to support the boy''s words.


    They were distant but unmistakably getting closer.


    "You did great, kid. Really."


    "O-Of course~!"


    "Let''s get outta here before they decide we''re dinner."


    He pushed himself to his feet and tried to scoop up Huda, thinking that he had gained enough strength to do so, but failed, somehow even worse thanst time.


    "I got her!"


    Immediately understanding his plight, Sinbad lowered himself and picked her up on his back.


    She was still burning sick but visibly more at ease now that she''d had some water.


    "Thanks. Now stick close, and don''t make a sound, got it?"


    Sinbad nodded, his face pale but determined.


    Together, they slipped out of the cave and into the cool night air.


    The grass glowed faintly under the reflection of the distant lighthouse.


    If not for that light, the night would''ve been suffocatingly dark.


    But Malik didn''t have time to appreciate the eerie beauty of it.


    The screeches were louder now, closer, and the thought of running wasn''t something he entertained.


    They needed to hide.


    He scanned the area and spotted a suitable tree nearby.


    Its low-hanging branches and thick mud offered the perfect hiding spot.


    "Under here."


    Malik whispered, and Sinbad went ahead, setting Huda down gently.


    When Malik got there, he pointed at some wet mud and helped Sinbad smear it over his body.


    The boy didn''tin one bit, only grimaced at the cold texture, and helped Malik do the same to himself.


    "Lay t. Don''t move. Don''t breathe too loud. We wait ''til they''re gone."


    Sinbad nodded again, his small body trembling as he pressed himself against the ground.


    Malik adjusted Huda, covering her mouth lightly with his hand to make sure a repeat ofst time didn''t happen.


    The monsters appeared not long after, their grotesque forms lurching into view like nightmares made flesh, faintly illuminated by the distant lighthouse beam.


    Their movements were wrong¡ªso wrong¡ªjerky and stiff one second, then bizarrely smooth the next, as if their bodies couldn''t decide whether they were dead or alive.


    They sniffed at the air with these disgusting, wet snorts, their guttural clicks echoing in the silence like a broken metronome.


    Malik didn''t dare blink.


    His entire body went rigid as one of them¡ªbiggest of the bunch, ws like rusted scythes¡ªstopped dead in its tracks.


    Its glowing eyes swept the area, and Malik could swear they locked onto him for half a second.


    His breath snagged in his throat and he tightened his grip over Huda''s mouth, careful not to press too hard but praying she didn''t make a sound.


    He could feel her tiny breath, hot and rapid against his palm, while his other arm held Sinbad so close he might as well have been trying to merge them into one person.


    The kid was trembling even worse now, and Malik couldn''t tell if it was from fear or the freezing mud they were caked in.


    Probably both.


    KEEI... KEEI...@@novelbin@@


    The monster shifted closer.


    One step. Then another.


    Each movement sent a shiver through the ground.


    Malik could feel it in his chest like a second heartbeat.


    Its ws scraped against the earth with this sickening shhhhick, like nails on ss, just feet away.


    The sound was unbearable, drilling straight into his skull, but even then, he remained absolutely still.


    He fought every primal urge screaming at him to run.


    It just wasn''t an option. Moving wasn''t an option.


    Hell, existing barely felt like an option right now.


    ''But... the fuck do I do if it finds us?''


    Huda wouldn''t stand a chance. Sinbad? Maybe a few seconds before he was ripped apart.


    And Malik? No more than his little brother, probably less even.


    The thought twisted his stomach, but he pushed it down.


    ''Calm... Just calm.''


    The thing sniffed the air again, its head tilting unnaturally, almost like it was listening.


    Malik squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to stay still, to stay silent, even as his lungs started to scream for air.


    He was sure this was it¡ªthat any second now, those glowing eyes would lock onto him, and those ws would tear through him like paper.


    But then, like some cruel joke, it turned.


    Just like that.


    It jerked back toward the others, letting out a low, guttural snarl, and stalked off, disappearing into the darkness.


    Malik stayed frozen, counting each shaky beat of his heart, waiting for another sound, another clue that they mighte back.


    Yet all he heard was the faint rustling of the wind.


    "Hoooooooohhhhh..."


    He exhaled, the breath escaping in a trembling rush he couldn''t control.


    His hand fell from Huda''s mouth as he pushed Sinbad away and flopped onto his back, sucking in air like it was the first time he''d ever breathed.


    "Holy shit... holy fucking shit."


    Malik''s whisper to himself was barely audible over the thundering in his ears.


    His body was just that taut.


    "Hey kid..."


    Turning to his Sinbad, he slowly asked:


    "You alright?"


    "Y-Y-Y-Yes."


    "...Alright... let''s move."


    He helped Sinbad to his feet and pushed Huda back up on the boy''s back.


    They hurried back into the cave, not saying another word.


    Each step echoed louder than it should''ve in the silence while Malik''s mind raced with thoughts of his failure.


    ''I should''ve been the one that woke him up.''


    ''...Not the other way around...''


    ''Fuck it¡ª''


    But those thoughts quickly disappeared as they went deeper into the cave, intent on reaching the water source while those nightmares were out.


    And it wasn''t long before they did.


    It felt like stepping into a dream.


    The cool, clear pool shimmered faintly in the dim light, the sound of water dripping from the ceiling almost soothing.


    "Whoooo!"


    Sinbad didn''t hesitate¡ªhe practically dove in with Huda still on her back, sshing water everywhere.


    "Hmph..."


    Malik couldn''t me him.


    He knelt at the edge, cupping the water in his hands and drinking deeply.


    It was cold, crisp, and impossibly refreshing.


    "This..." Malik said between gulps, "is the best damn water I''ve ever had."


    Sinbadughed, the sound light and genuine for the first time in what felt like forever.


    "It''s like a cold paradise!"


    Malik grinned, joining him and forcing Huda to drink more even as she mumbled in protest. "C''mon, kid. Drink up! You''ll thank meter."


    Once they''d all had their fill¡ªand then some¡ªMalik leaned back, his legs sprawled out as he let the cold seep into his bones.


    He nced at Sinbad, who was grinning like a fool.


    "Hey, you wanna check out this caveter? See what else is hiding in here?"


    Sinbad''s eyes widened, a mix of excitement and nervousness shing across his face.


    "You mean it?"


    Malik smirked.


    "Yeah. But only if you''re up for it. What d''ya say?"

 Chapter 27 Seven Days

    Life in the cave turned into a weird little rhythm for Malik and Sinbad.


    Even though it was tough, having to juggle both survival and constantly taking care of Huda, it was starting to feel like they might have a chance to make it out of this Hellhole in one piece.


    Theypletely cleared the cave by the end of the first day.


    They saw it as the first order of business after their little bathing session.


    Malik, with Sinbad trailing behind him, ventured deep, using torches they cobbled together from tree bark and fabric scraps.


    The deeper they went, the more twisted the space became.


    Jagged stgmites jutted from the ground like broken teeth, and the walls narrowed in ces so much they had to squeeze through sideways.


    And the smell... it was horrid.


    They''ve never smelt anything worse in their lives.


    It got worse the closer they got to their destination¡ªlike someone wrung out the wet socks of a rotting corpse, threw them into a swamp, let them marinate for a few months, and then set the whole thing on fire just for fun.


    They didn''t think about the source much because they could already guess what it was.


    Their minds were more focused on stopping their urge to puke, forgoing everything else.


    Careful was not even in their dictionary anymore; they just wanted to get this over with as soon as possible.


    Those monsters weren''t there¡ªnot yet, anyway.


    The Shams''s light hadn''t yet peered into Al-Fawra, so the monsters were off wherever they went during the night.


    But their little hideout? Yeah, it was unmistakable.


    Bones of all kinds littered the floor, some bleached white and others disturbingly fresh.


    Sinbad identally kicked something small¡ªwhat he hoped was just a rock¡ªand stopped when he spotted it wasn''t a rock at all.


    A jawbone, tiny and sharp.


    He grimaced.


    It was a horrid discovery for sure, but it told them a lot.


    These things were smart, or at least smart enough to keep their water nearby.


    And their meals? Judging by the bones, anything that moved.


    Seekers, though...


    Malik crouched down, picking up a scrap of fabric torn and bloodstained, the thread embroidered with familiar patterns.


    Seekers were their delicacy.


    He sighed, standing back up, his face pale but set.


    "Alright, this ain''t the best news¡ª" He stepped carefully over a particrlyrge rib bone. "¡ªbut at least they don''t seem to be nesting here all the time."


    A trembling Sinbad shot him a nce.


    "Y-Y-You''re acting too optimistic while standing in a monster kitchen."


    "Optimism''s just cowardice with a grin. It ain''t..."


    Malik''s words paused as his head jerked toward a pile of funky-looking fruit stacked in the back.


    "Huh... Guess some of them are vegan."


    "..."


    Sinbad didn''t reply.


    No joke, nough, celebration, not even a flicker of amusement.


    He just stared at his big brother, deadpan.


    Shrugging it off, Malik began walking towards the pile.


    "Now let''s take a few of those and go back."


    "Thought you''d never say it!"


    ...


    With the cave explored and water handled, they moved on to the "less pressing" matters.


    Their nutrient intake.


    And so, days two and three mostly involved hunting for different kinds of food.


    Huda, as it turned out, was not an easy customer.


    She didn''t like any of what they first brought back.


    Eventer on, when they discovered a few fruit-producing trees at the patch''s edge, bringing back some strange, bulbous fruit, mushroom, or weird-looking berry, Huda would take one bite, make the sourest face imaginable, and mutter:


    "I don''t like it."


    The first time, Malik chuckled.


    The second time, he rolled his eyes.


    By the third time, he groaned.


    "Kid, do you like anything?"


    "...Mhm... No."


    Huda turned her nose up at the fruit he presented, wrapping her arms around herself.


    "I... want... good."


    Malik blinked.


    "Something good? You think I''m holding out on you, little idiot? You think I''ve got a secret stash of roast chicken hidden behind that rock over there?"


    "...May... be."


    "Ahahahahahahaha~!"


    Sinbadughed so hard he nearly choked on his questionable berry.


    Malik groaned louder this time, dragging a hand down his face.


    "I hate kids."


    The boy wiped his tears ofughter.


    "No, you don''t. You love us."


    "Shut up, berry boy."


    "Hey~... you didn''t deny it."


    Clicking his tongue, Malik broke off arge piece of the fruit and took a bite out of spite.


    It tasted like bitter dirt mixed with regret.


    "Gh..."


    He gagged, nearly spitting it out.


    Sinbad''s grin widened.


    "Delicious, isn''t it?"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Was Lady Huda really that unreasonable back then?"


    "Sure looks like it."


    "I''m surprised that Sinbad kid is taking it on the chin like that."


    "Same... kinda makes Lady Huda look worse though."


    "It''s a recipe for disaster. You''ve got a kid who barely survived on scraps and a spoiled brat who had everything handed to her."


    "Well, duh. She''s Al-Sayf. What do you expect? Sinbad''s just an outlier."


    "Grew up living like royalty, the life of Sultans¡ªhow could she understand the grief of beggars?"


    "Oi, shut the fuck up! You guys trying to lose your heads?"


    "Idiots."


    "But it''s true; I mean, why bother? He saved her life not once, but twice. I''d say that''s a good enough deed."


    "True. If it were me? No way I''d stick around to babysit some rich kid."


    While the older Magi within the crowd buzzed with murmurs, Huda stayed quiet, keeping her camp in check.


    Thest thing she needed was another bloodbath.


    And honestly? She didn''t feel angry at their words.


    They weren''t wrong, not at all.


    Instead, all she felt was guilt.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Still, Malik and Sinbad didn''t give up.


    They scoured further out in their area, carefully testing each fruit they found to make sure it wasn''t poisonous.


    By the end of the third day, they''d built a little stash of edible¡ªbut not exactly tasty¡ªoptions.


    "Alright..."


    Malik shoved a weird-looking root he''d dug up in her mouth.


    "This is dinner. Bon app¨¦tit."


    Huda frowned, as expected, but this time she ate without too muchint.


    Progress.


    Days four and five were spent mostly mapping thend.


    The reason for that was obvious.


    Malik had long since noticed it, but only now did he have the energy to address it.


    Every time they ventured out beyond the patch of trees, thendscape was different.


    What was once t, grassy hills might turn into jagged cliffs or sandy dunes the next morning.


    And as the young Sinbad, on the night of their fifth day, had said:


    "It''s like... it''s moving. Like thend''s alive or something."


    It indeed was.


    "...Sure, but not just ''like.''"


    Malik muttered.


    "It is alive. Likely a result of those Aether Anomalies you told me about... Or something close to it."


    Sinbad blinked at him.


    "T-That''s... really creepy."@@novelbin@@


    "Yeah. Creepier than you thinking roots taste good."


    "H-H-Hey, that root was solid! I stand by my words."


    Malik rolled his eyes but didn''t reply, staring at the seemingly endless jagged rocks surrounding them.


    Sinbad did the same, or at least tried to, but got bored minutester.


    "So what do we do? Just stay in our little patch forever?"

 Chapter 28 Seven Days II

    Malik shook his head.


    "No. We''ll map what we can, mark where things shift, and figure out a pattern."


    "You... you think there''s a pattern to this?"


    "There''s always a pattern. You just have to survive long enough to see it."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "I don''t know if they''re lucky or just in unlucky to have picked Altahawul for their little camping spot."


    "Right? Not the worst section in the firstyer, but definitely not far from it."


    "Mhm. Smack in the middle of Ahools, Rocs, and Dandans? Yeah, not exactly a fun vacation for mortals."


    "Heh, couldn''t agree more."


    Most of them kept quiet after that.


    They all knew the struggle¡ªalmost all of them had been through it themselves.


    No one wanted to dredge up those memories. Too embarrassing to relive.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    They spent the next two days trying to figure out the pattern, if there was one.


    The only constants were the patch of trees and the cave¡ªthey never shifted or disappeared, like little anchors in an otherwise chaotic ne.


    "Listen..."


    Malik leaned against a tree and wiped the sweat from his brow.


    "We''ve got two safe zones. Everything else? No man''snd. For now, we stick close unless we absolutely have to go out there."


    Sinbad nodded.


    "Sure big bro... I just don''t understand how it could move like that."


    "Hell if I know¡ªactually, now that I think about it, shouldn''t you know all about this? What happened to your education?"


    Showing a smug smile, Sinbad pumped out his chest and dered:


    "Hah! I didn''t listen!"


    Malik gave him a nk stare then looked away, hiding a chuckle.


    "Let''s just not get caught out there when it shifts again, yeah?"


    Time passed and with their immediate goals more or less handled, the two started paying more attention to their monstrous neighbors.


    First were the bat-like creatures in the cave.


    Malik dubbed them "Nightmares," because, well, they were.


    During the day, they slept deep in the cavern, onlying out at night to hunt.


    Their movements, though both dead and alive, were coordinated, like a flock of birds.


    As expected, their diet seemed to be whatever unlucky critter or Seeker crossed their path.


    Next were the river monsters.


    Malik got a good look at one on the sixth afternoon, when he climbed the tallest hill he could find.


    At first, he thought it was just an oversized, monstrous shark.


    But nope, he''d been tricked. Fooled. Straight-up bamboozled.


    This thing wasn''t even close to a shark¡ªat least, not below the eyes.


    "Alien" was the only word that came to mind.


    He wasn''t exactly a Ten Seas expert, but even he could tell these things were way off the norm.


    Sinbad, ever the wordsmith, dubbed them "Riverbastards," and honestly?


    Malik couldn''t think of a more urate name.


    They didn''t bother withnd, but anything that got too close to the water was fair game.


    Then there were the birds.


    Colossi, winged beasts that soared high above, their cries echoing across thendscape. Malik watched one dive down and snatch up some "Riverbastard" in its talons before disappearing into the sky.


    "Skybastards," Sinbad called them, keeping the theme alive.


    Malik just shrugged and rolled with it.


    By the end of the week, they had pieced together a rough idea of the monsters'' habits and territories.@@novelbin@@


    It wasn''t much, but it was enough to keep them breathing¡ªfor now.


    ...


    The seventh day started like all the others¡ªa question-and-answer session between the two.


    "So what are we doing today?"


    Malik sat at the entrance of the cave, arms restingzily on his knees as he stared out at the horizon.


    "...I''d say we get some wood, try to make a few tools."


    Sinbad, sitting cross-legged next to him, nodded slowly, though his face didn''t match his agreement.


    "A-Are we still not gonna try calling on a Seeker?"


    Malik turned sharply, locking eyes with the boy.


    "Is that what you''ve been thinking about for the past few days?"


    Sinbad shifted under the weight of his gaze.


    "Y-Y-Yes."


    Annoyed, Malik smacked the kid''s back.


    "Bastard stop stuttering."


    "O-Okay."


    "Whatever... look. We can''t risk it. I don''t know how popr you Al-Sayf are, but those Seekers? They''re opportunistic fuckers. They''d rape a monster if it meant getting a Holy Relic out of it, never mind taking two dumb kids hostage."


    Sinbad''s eyes dimmed.


    "...Are... are they really that bad?"


    Malik''s expression softened, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.


    "You don''t know the half of it, bud. Trust me."


    He pushed himself up, stretchingzily.


    "Uwwaaaaah~!... Now let''s go. Wood doesn''t gather itself."


    With that, the two trekked toward the edge of the patch, searching for more manageable-sized trees to break or haul back.


    They had barely started¡ªMalik kicking at a stubborn branch and muttering curses under his breath¡ªwhen the sky decided to hit them with something new.


    A shadow fell across them.


    "The fuck¡ª?"


    FWOOOOOOSH!


    Out of nowhere, something¡ªsomeone¡ªcame falling down from the darkness like some divine messenger.


    Well... not quite divine.


    The figure¡ªno, the man¡ªwas using a Holy Relic.


    Some weird contraption that looked like a janky, glowing parachute.


    Malik''s heart skipped a beat.


    ''...A Seeker.''

 Chapter 29 The Stranger

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Hm... Sinbad was killed by that guy, you reckon?"


    "Could be. Kinda makes sense, yeah."


    "It''d exin everything."


    "Yeah, I can''t imagine the Sultan betraying them."


    "But how? Couldn''t he just kill himself and find a way to save the kid?"


    "I dunno... maybe he just couldn''t do it."


    "Uhhh, were you sleeping before now?"


    "Looks like it. I can''t believe he''d say that after watching the same thing we did."


    "I know, right?! High chance the Sultan just couldn''t deal with the fucker."


    The hall was filled with noise, different groups talking at the same time.


    One further back was deep in spection about what they''d see next, while another, consisting of the older Magi, was picking apart the little inconsistencies in the projection.


    "Why were those seven days skipped over, but everything else gets shown in crazy detail?"


    "Eh, probably ''cause those memories didn''t rank highly in his mind, so they''re not ''remembered.''"


    "That seems very possible."


    "But if that''s true, then why didn''t we get any of his memories with his guardian? He seems pretty fond of him."


    That stopped every one of them for a second.


    The whole idea they had been piecing together suddenly fell apart.


    But then, some unknown bearded Magi saved the day:


    "It might be ''cause it was from his early years and he barely remembers any of it."


    "Aha! That sounds about right!"


    "Or! Listen to this... The Holy Relic making this movie just doesn''t like bad pacing."


    "Heh, maybe~. But seriously, am I the only one who feels like the Holy Relic is alive and is responding to us?"


    That caught the attention of the front row¡ªthe ''main characters''¡ªall of them thinking the same thing.


    "I kinda think it does, like it pauses after intense moments, giving us time to react... or not react."


    "Yeah, like right now, for example. It''s paused like it''s waiting for us to pay attention again."


    As soon as those words were out, the projection resumed, as if it had actually been listening to them.


    "Huh... guess we should never underestimate a Ten Commandment."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "What the hell is that? A spider web on juice?"


    Malik was squinting at it, mumbling.


    "Big brother, you think it''s a Holy Relic?"


    "I do... it barely looks functional, though."


    His face quickly turned serious.


    Sinbad, on the other hand, was already excited.


    "Do you think he could help us?"


    Malik snorted.


    "Doubt it."


    But just as the Seeker was about to stick thending all majestic-like¡ªWHOOSH!


    Seemingly out of nowhere, aparatively tiny "Skybastard"¡ªprobably a baby chick¡ªcame screeching in, all talons and rage.


    Its ws tore right through the glowing relic and, worse, the Seeker''s chest.


    "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    The scream that followed was something Sinbad would hear in his nightmares.


    And what wasing next would too, but fortunately for Sinbad''s fragile innocence, the Seeker''s luck managed to pull through.


    At thest second, his body fell into an Aether pocket, yanking him away from the "Skybastard''s" ws.


    He dropped like a sack of rocks, mming into the ground with a thud so loud it kicked up a massive dust cloud.


    "B-Big brother... We..."


    Sinbad pushed himself up and scrambled forward.


    "We have to help him!"


    Malik grabbed the kid by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him back.


    "Shut up. Stay still. Watch."


    "But¡ª"


    "No buts. Trust me on this, alright? Just... wait."


    And so they waited.


    They stayed hidden in their little nook, watching as the Seeker groaned, cursed, and pulled himself together. Literally.


    The guy had some kind of magical healing kit¡ªa mix of bandages and glowing powder he sprinkled into the gaping wounds.


    By the time the Shams light started dipping low, the Seeker was on his feet, shaky but alive.


    Only then did Malik let Sinbad move.


    "Alright, kid. Let''s say hi. Carefully."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Is it really smart to wait for him to get his strength back before making a move?"


    "Can''t say. Depends on what he''s after."


    "Right. Doesn''t look like he''s nning to kill him or anything, so I''d say it''s a smart move."


    "Exactly. And in that kind of situation, do you poke at a cornered animal, or wait until it calms down a bit? Waiting seems smarter, no?"


    Mostly everyone kept quiet, feeling the intensity of the scene.


    But, of course, a few people just had to break the tension, tossing outments like lifelines to ease their nerves.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The two crept closer, sliding down the hill toward the battered Seeker.


    Sinbad waved casually like they were old friends.


    "Hey there!"


    The Seeker jumped, his hand darting to his belt where he had a Shamshir, a curved double-edged saber.


    "What¡ª"


    His wide eyes settled on them, and confusion quickly reced rm.


    "What in the hell are kids doing here?!"


    Sinbad opened his mouth, probably to spill their entire life story, but Malik pped a hand over his shoulder, cutting him off.


    "We''re just... y''know, dreamers. Came down here trying to make it to the big leagues."


    The Seeker raised an eyebrow, eyes scanning Malik''s thin body.


    "Kids like you? In Al-Fawra?"


    Malik shrugged, ying it cool.


    "We thought we''d try our luck. Turns out luck sucks."@@novelbin@@


    The Seeker snorted, rxing a bit.


    "Yeah, tell me about it. This ce doesn''t care who you are or what you want. It''ll eat you alive if you''re not careful."


    "I''m getting that impression."


    Malik nced at the guy''s still-bloodied chest.


    "You good, though? That bird messed you up pretty bad."


    "I''ll live... Name''s Rafiq, by the way."


    "Malik. And this friendly little critter is Sinbad."


    "Nice to meet you!"

 Chapter 30 What Seeker?

    They talked for a while after Sinbad''s chirp, the tension easing bit by bit.


    Rafiq was surprisingly chatty for someone who''d just been used as a chew toy by a giant bird.


    He kept his back leaning against a rock, wincing as he continuously adjusted the bandages on his chest.


    "It ain''t my first rodeo in this section. More dangerous, yeah, but nothing beats the kind of loot you can find down here."@@novelbin@@


    "Y-You dive often?"


    Rafiq nodded.


    "Been doing this for years now. Not exactly by choice, but hey, you take what life throws at you, right?"


    Sinbad leaned in, wide-eyed and starved for entertainment.


    "You''ve been in ces worse than this before? What''s the craziest thing you''ve seen?"


    Rafiq chuckled, a low, dry sound.


    "Craziest? Oh, there''s a lot to choose from. Let''s see... there was this one time I stumbled into a nest of fire-breathing smanders. Got singed pretty bad, but I managed to swipe one of their eggs. Sold it for a fortune. Then there was the time I had to outrun a sandworm the size of a house¡ªlost two good boots and a pack of supplies, but I made it out alive."


    Sinbad''s jaw dropped.


    "A sandworm? Like, they''re down here too? How''d you even escape?"


    "Luck..."


    Rafiq admitted with a shrug.


    "...And a lot of running. Let me tell you kid, you never really know how fast you can move until something''s trying to eat you."


    Sinbadughed, clearly enthralled.


    "What about here? What''s the scariest thing you''ve seen?"


    Rafiq''s expression darkened slightly, his gaze shifting to the sky as if expecting something to swoop down at any moment.


    "The Rocs. Those things are no joke. They hunt alone, and they don''t stop once they''ve locked onto you. That chick that tore through me? Probably just ying. The adults are worse¡ªway worse."


    Malik, who had been silently observing, narrowed his eyes.


    "So why''re you here if you know it''s this bad?"


    Rafiq shrugged, a faint smirk on his lips.


    "Because it''s worth it. The deeper you go, the better the relics. And I''ve got debts to pay."


    "Debts?"


    Sinbad asked, and Rafiq waved him off:


    "Long story. Let''s just say there are people up top who don''t let you forget what you owe them."


    Sinbad nodded, but Malik stayed quiet, his suspicion growing.


    People who owed debts usually weren''t above doing shady things to get ahead.


    "So, what''s the coolest relic you''ve ever found?"


    Rafiq''s smirk widened.


    "That''d be the Compass of Najd. Beautiful piece¡ªgold-ted, multidimensional, covered in ancient runes. It could point to Al-Fawra from wherever the user is on the, likely even outside. Sold it to some bigwig for more gold coins than I''ve ever seen in my life. Of course, that money didn''tst long..."


    Sinbad lightly gasped.


    "Why didn''t you just run away with the money? It''s more than enough to live for a few lifetimes on the Outskirts."


    "Live away from Al-Fawra? Never. Besides, I like breathing... Trust me, don''t take on any debts with them Zawaya dogs; they''d follow you to the end of the world."


    Malik didn''t miss the edge in Rafiq''s voice.


    He filed the information away, still unsure whether this guy was someone they could ''live'' with.


    Sinbad, meanwhile, asked endless questions about Holy Relics, monsters, and how to survive in ces like this.


    Rafiq answered most of them, throwing in the asional joke or dramatic pause to keep the kid entertained.


    Malik never interrupted, staying on high alert.


    He listened, yes, but he also kept an eye on Rafiq''s hands, his bodynguage, the way his eyes asionally darted behind them.


    And when the topic turned towards the two, Rafiq stretched his arms a little, trying to appear rxed.


    "So what about you guys? How long''ve you been down here?"


    Sinbad hesitated, ncing at Malik.


    "Not long."


    Malik answered quickly, cutting off whatever truth Sinbad might''ve spilled.


    "Still figuring things out."


    Rafiq nodded, seemingly satisfied with the vague answer.


    "Well, here''s hoping you don''t figure it out the hard way."


    The conversation tapered off as night began to fall, and Rafiq finally asked:


    "Mind if I crash with you guys tonight? Safety in numbers and all that."


    Malik''s eyes narrowed slightly, his gut screaming no.


    He gave Rafiq the look¡ªthe kind of look that said, "fuck off," a thousand times.


    "Sorry. Can''t do that. Nothing personal, just don''t trust you enough yet."


    Rafiq nodded slowly, unbothered by the tension.


    "Fair enough. Can''t say I me you. Stay safe, yeah?"


    "You too."


    Malik watched Rafiq walk off until he was just a speck in the distance, then finally turned back toward the cave.


    Sinbad followed quietly, but when they were about halfway back, the boy couldn''t hold it in any longer.


    "H-He looked like a good guy. Why didn''t you ask him to help us get out of here?"


    "..."


    No response.


    But Sinbad wasn''t giving up.


    "Even if you didn''t want him to know who we really are, he could''ve¡ª"


    "Drop it."


    Malik cut him off, having had enough.


    "But¡ª"


    "I said drop it."


    Sinbad mmed up, clearly frustrated but smart enough to let it go.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "The Sultan''s insane, man. Twelve years old and already that sharp."


    "Yeah, guess all that begging and... whatever else he went through really toughened him up."


    "Quit hyping up a tyrant, you bastards."


    "Shut it. We''re just saying what everyone''s thinking. Even you can''t deny it, dumbass."


    And like that, they kept bickering while the memories rolled on.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    When they got back to the cave, it was business as usual: take Huda outside, wait for the monsters to clear out, and then huddle together for warmth like a pack of freezing chicks back inside.


    Malik passed out the second his head hit the ground.


    One moment, he was staring nkly at the cave ceiling¡ªhalf wondering if it''d copse on them for fun¡ªand the next? Out like a light.


    Time zipped by in a blink, and suddenly, he jolted awake.


    "Ugh..."


    He shook his head, gently rolling Huda off his chest¡ªcareful not to wake the little furnace¡ªthen stretched.


    His back let out a chorus of pop-pop-pops like fireworks on a festival night.


    Rubbing his face, Malik wandered to the cave''s entrance and dropped onto his usual rock perch.


    He then stared out at the endless, boring mess outside.


    Sinbad¡ªtrying, and failing, to be sneaky¡ªshuffled up behind him and flopped down on Malik''s left, acting like he hadn''t made a single noise.


    Malik didn''t even look at him.


    "So what are we doing today?"


    Sinbad asked, sounding way too peppy for someone stuck in a cave.


    "Hm..."


    Malik frowned, pondering as he scratched his chin.


    "...Was gonna grab some wood for tools yesterday, but y''know... Wasted the whole damn day with that Seeker."


    Sinbad blinked, tilting his head like a confused puppy.


    "Uhm... What Seeker?"

 Chapter 31 First Blood...?

    Malik stopped mid-stretch, his arm frozen halfway over his head.


    Slowly¡ªvery slowly¡ªwith eyes that could melt the North, he turned to look at Sinbad, like he was trying to see into his soul.


    "......What?"


    The boy shrank a little, his hands iling in panic.


    "I-I know what a Seeker is! I''m just saying we didn''t meet any yesterday! Honest!"


    "..."


    "..."


    "...Fine. But just wondering. You know any Rafiqs?"


    "No...?"


    Malik squinted at him for a long, awkward second before letting out a t:


    "I see."


    He turned back to face the outside of the cave, his expression nk as if he were trying to process the world''s dumbest riddle.


    The same daybreak light was filtering in.


    The same faint screeches echoed behind them.


    Huda stirred nearby, still sleeping.


    Malik closed his eyes and a smile made it on his face.


    "Sinbad, how long we''ve been here?"


    "Um... seven days."


    He nodded his head...


    "Yeah."


    And his lips trembled a little.


    "Did I... did I ever ask you what you wanna do when we get outta here?"


    Sinbad raised a brow, internally wondering what brought this up.


    "Huh? Not really, no."


    Malik scratched the back of his neck.


    "Well... can you tell me?"


    Still lost, Sinbad shrugged but answered anyway:


    "I dunno... Never really had any goals or anything before meeting you... but now, I-I want to be a Seeker... A-Adventuring is fun~!"


    Malik nodded again, like he was filing that away.


    "Thanks for telling me."


    Sinbad tilted his head.


    "W-What about you, big bro?"


    "Me? Uh... well, aside from, y''know, staying alive, I guess I wanna open up a shop in Suq Al-Khamis. Maybe even expandter, hit the road, and do the whole traveling merchant thing."


    Sinbad blinked, surprised for half a second before it clicked.


    "Oh, dude, that sounds awesome!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    While the two continued to talk, the hall remained silent, until one brave man in the crowd announced what was on everyone''s mind:


    "...Rafiq killed him in his sleep."


    The second the world blinked, everyone watching pieced it together.


    It was obvious. Painfully so.


    But Malik?


    He''d been out cold,pletely missing that weird flicker of reality.


    Now instead of showing surprise at his death, the crowd was pissed.


    They''d been gearing up for some sh¡ªtheir Sultan versus some Seeker.


    A malnourished kid against a calcted hunter.


    Instead, they got... well, this.


    "Seriously? Killing a kid in his sleep? What a coward."


    "I get that Seekers are all about being careful, bute on. Was this really necessary?"


    "You think he was after Lady Huda and Sinbad?"


    "Obviously. What other reason could he have to take out the Sultan like this?"


    "Yeah, no way it''s a coincidence."


    A murmur of agreement rippled through the hall and the chatter grew louder.


    "And here I was thinking Seekers had some standards. Guess I was wrong."


    "Hah, standards? From them? The moment they smell profit, they''re worse than monsters."


    "Is that so? Well, fuck you too."


    "Of course you naive golden spoons willin!"


    "Fuckers thinking they''re better than us!"


    While those younger groups fought with each other, a dumbass decided that it was his turn to speak:


    "It''s still crazy to think he pulled this off while the Sultan was right there. I meane on, he didn''t wake up for any of that?"


    A frustrated groan was then heard loud and clear:


    "He''s twelve! What do you want him to do, develop some snake radar?!"


    During all that, the ''named'' stayed silent, both body and mind¡ªintently watching as the projection hung on Malik''s still form, curled up like a weight was pressing down on his back.


    And though no one dared say it aloud, a single thought loomed over them:


    Will their Sultan finally im his first blood?


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik''s mind pieced together the fragments of d¨¦j¨¤ vu.


    The same question. The same sequence of events. The same everything.


    He hadn''t survived the night. Somehow, he''d died. And now, he was back.


    Again.


    The seventh day was his new "checkpoint."


    And it didn''t take him long to figure out how death imed him.


    Rafiq.


    That snake of a Seeker hadn''t just stumbled onto them by chance.


    He''de here for Sinbad and Huda, knowing exactly who they were.


    The kind smile, the easygoing attitude¡ªit was all a front.


    Malik clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms.


    He wanted to scream, to rage, but there was no time for that.


    Sinbad needed to be safe. Huda needed to be protected.


    "You''re staying here."


    Sinbad frowned, his confusion stered all over his face.


    "W-Why? What''s wrong? D-D-Did I do something?"


    "Nothing."


    Malik forced a grin¡ªit looked about as natural as a rock trying to smile.


    "Just gotta make sure we''re all set for the night."


    Sinbad didn''t argue, though his lips twisted like he wanted to say more.


    In the end, he just flopped back down next to his sister, watching Malik like a worried puppy.


    Malik ruffled the kid''s hair¡ªhalf affection, half to shut him up¡ªthen knelt next to Huda.


    She was curled up in a little ball, her tiny breaths steady and soft.


    "I''ll be gone for a bit, kiddo."


    He brushed the hair from her forehead, pressing a quick kiss there.@@novelbin@@


    Huda stirred, muttering a sleepy little, "Mhmm¡­" before settling back into dreand.


    It was almost enough to make him stay. Almost.


    "I won''t take long."


    Malik murmured as he stood up and turned to the exit.


    "Be careful."


    He nced back, catching the kid''s big, worried eyes.


    "I will."


    The second he stepped outside the cave, though, any semnce of emotion fell off his face like it had never been there in the first ce.


    It was just nk, hollow.


    The Malik inside the cave?


    The older brother, the smartass, the tired kid cracking jokes?


    That guy stayed behind.


    This Malik was different. Entirely different.


    His steps were silent as he walked, eyes narrowed and fixed ahead.


    ''...Kid''s sharper than I gave him credit for.''


    Sinbad had noticed.


    Maybe not what, exactly, but the kid could feel something was off.


    And he, unfortunately for everyone involved, wasn''t wrong.


    ...


    A few minutester, Malik could be seen trudging up a hill, hands sped behind his back, seemingly not in any kind of rush.


    By the time he reached the top, he flopped down cross-legged like it was his throne, letting out a quiet sigh as the cool breeze hit him.


    The grass around him rippled like waves in the wind, but he didn''t even blink at it.


    His eyes were glued to the sky, waiting...


    Waiting for his prey.


    And he didn''t have to wait long.


    Just likest time, Rafiq came gliding down, that weird Holy Relic of his spreading out behind him.


    Then came the shriek.


    Out of nowhere, the "Skybastard"¡ªor if you''re fancy, the Roc¡ªdove in, faster than either of them could blink.


    Its massive talons tore right through Rafiq''s chest, leaving a burst of blood in the air.


    "AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    His scream ripped through the silence, and before the Roc could finish him off, his body got yanked into an Aether pocket.


    When he came out the other side, gravity did the rest, dropping him into the ground, his body crumpling on impact.


    ''Hm.''


    Malik didn''t move.


    He stayed perched on the hill, watching.


    Waiting.


    Only when the bird pped away did he rise to his feet, brushing dirt off his pants like this was just another day.


    With azy stretch and a yawn, he started making his way down the hill.


    By the time he got close enough to see Rafiq, the guy was already a good ten percent of the way through patching himself up.


    Crunch... Crunch...


    Hearing the sound of crushed grass, the Seeker looked up, startled at first, but quickly masked it with a wary smile.


    "What the hell''s a kid like you doing out here?!"


    Malik shrugged like it was no big deal.


    "Ah, you know how it is for beggars. Couldn''t take it anymore, so I figured I''d off myself. Joke''s on me though¡ªI survived."


    Rafiq snorted, half-amused, half-exhausted.


    "You''re one lucky bastard."


    "Guess so."


    Malik crouched a few feet away, staying casual but giving Rafiq a once-over.


    The guy was a mess¡ªsluggish movements, bandages that looked like a five-year-old wrapped them¡ªbut what really attracted his eye?


    The Shamshir hanging off his belt.


    "You look like you''re on the wrong side of lucky though."


    Malik kept his tone light.


    "Need a hand or something?"


    Rafiq shook his head, already tired of the conversation.


    "Nah, I''m good. Just part of the job."


    "Uh-huh... But, like, you sure?"


    Malik asked again, that grin of his sticking around.


    "You look like you really, really need some help, man."


    Rafiq forced a weak chuckle, but the tension in his voice was obvious.


    "Like I said. I''m. GOOD."


    He pointed in the direction of the river.


    "How about you go dip for a bit? Water''s quite refreshing."


    His words came out steady like he hadn''t noticed a thing¡ªbut Malik wasn''t buying it for a second.


    Rafiq''s eyes were narrowing now, his posture a little too stiff.


    Yeah, he''d caught Malik''s gaze darting down to his waist, to that shamshir strapped there.


    Malik wasn''t exactly being subtle¡ªa flick of his eyes here, a quick nce there¡ªshort, sure, but that was more than enough.


    And it was to be expected. Rafiq wasn''t all that dumb.


    The Seeker shifted ever so slightly, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his de.


    Muscles tensed under his torn, bloody shirt, ready to act.


    But Malik didn''t wait.


    Without warning, he lunged, going straight for Rafiq''s belt like a wild animal.


    "DIE!"

 Chapter 32 First Blood...? II

    No hesitation, no second-guessing¡ªjust raw instinct.


    "What the fuck?!"


    Rafiq twisted away on reflex, his hand shooting for the de.


    But Malik was already on him, crashing into him with all the force of someone who didn''t care if he lived or died.


    The two of them hit the dirt, hard, rolling and grappling in a messy tangle of limbs.


    Malik''s knees dug into Rafiq''s ribs, his hands wing at whatever he could grab: his arm, his shirt, his hair¡ªanything.


    It wasn''t pretty, but it didn''t need to be.


    Rafiq fought back just as dirty, throwing an elbow that caught Malik''s jaw, sending his head snapping to the side.


    "Ugh..."


    Malik grunted, his vision swimming for a second, but he wasn''t letting go.


    Adrenaline drowned out the pain, his focus locked on one thing¡ªkilling this bastard.


    His legs hooked around Rafiq''s, trying to pin him down, while his hands scrambled to grab the hilt of the de that was just barely out of reach.


    "Fuck. Off!"


    Rafiq shoved at Malik''s chest with one hand but Malik held on, pulling him down with him.


    Dirt flew everywhere as they rolled again, Malik somehow ending up on top.


    He pressed his full weight down on Rafiq, pinning him hard.@@novelbin@@


    "Stay. The fuck. Down!"


    But Rafiq wasn''t having it¡ªhe bucked hard, nearly tossing him off like some pissed-off draft monster.


    Yet again, Malik held on, though barely, and Rafiq tried once more.


    "Get the fuck off me!"


    His free handtched onto Malik''s robes and yanked him to the right, trying to use his own momentum to flip him over.


    It was a valid attempt, but Malik wasn''t about to let that happen.


    His legs locked down on the ground like iron mps keeping himself steady.


    He then quickly shoved his forearm into Rafiq''s throat, leaning all his weight into it.


    Rafiq choked, his face turning red, but the bastard wasn''t close to being done yet.


    His knee came up hard, smashing into Malik''s side, earning a loud, wheezing grunt:


    "FUCK!"


    But instead of pulling back, Malik doubled down, using the pain as fuel.


    He elbowed Rafiq''s head with his left while his right tried to pry the de free.


    Rafiq gritted his teeth and his other hand came up, aiming for Malik''s face.


    Malik jerked his head to the side just in time to dodge a thumb aimed straight for his eye.


    Close call¡ªtoo close¡ªbut again, instead of backing off, it only made him go even harder.


    Pulling his right knee back like a loaded spring, he paused just long enough to aim, then mmed it forward, right into Rafiq''s ribs


    "Hhhhsss..."


    The bastard hissed through gritted teeth, the pain slowing him down.


    It was just enough for Malik to press the advantage.


    Noticing that, Rafiq tried to stop him, but all he could do was threaten:


    "Stop this you little shit! You''ll regret this!"


    Malik wasn''t listening to any of his barking.


    His whole world had narrowed down to that Shamshir, and he almost dove towards it, his legs kicking out to keep Rafiq off bnce.


    But just before he could pick it up¡ª


    "Fuck off you damn rat!"


    Rafiq shoved his back, sending him sprawling to the side in a coughing fit.


    It was incredibly painful, but still, Malik wasn''t done, not even close.


    "Die!"


    Like a mad dog, he growled andunched himself right back at Rafiq, allowing him not a second alone.


    And this time, he aimed real dirty.


    His elbow smashed into Rafiq''s chest¡ªright where the Roc had ripped into him earlier.


    "YOU BASTAAAARD!"


    Rafiq''s scream tore through the air as his body folded in on itself from the pain.


    It was all the opening Malik needed.


    With all the swiftness of a drunkard, he snatched the Shamshir from its sheath, the weight of the de finally in his hands.


    But just as he threw himself backward, trying to put space between them, Rafiq grabbed onto his arm and yanked him forward.


    Crack!


    Their skulls smashed together blood spraying between them as Malik''s head snapped back.


    His vision went white, stars bursting and spinning in every direction.


    The next thing he knew, the ground mmed into him, and the de slipped from his grasp, just out of reach.


    Through the haze, Malik caught a glimpse of Rafiq scrambling over him, picking up the weapon.


    "Gotcha, you little¡ª"


    Whatever Rafiq was about to say turned into a strangled grunt as Malik''s legs shot out like pistons, both heels mming into his lower back.


    "AHHHH!"


    He crumpled face-first into the dirt with a heavy thud, the de skittering from his grasp.


    And then... stillness.


    For a time, neither moved.


    Both justy there, chests heaving, battered and bruised, minds dazed.


    But ''rest'' wasn''t in the cards.


    Neither was ready to quit.


    A few seconds passed, and the fight resumed.


    "RAAAH!"


    "DIEEEE!"


    It turned downright feral, somehow even more desperate than before.


    They twisted, rolled, wed, and grappled for the de.


    Malik''s thin hands darted in like vipers, but Rafiq''s grip was iron-d, unyielding.


    It should''ve been a recipe for failure.


    Malik didn''t evene close to matching Rafiq''s strength, and his only advantage was negligible.


    But he wasn''t banking on that.


    He knew exactly where to hit.


    All that mattered was the gaping wound in Rafiq''s chest.


    Malik hadn''t forgotten it¡ªnot for a second.


    He only needed the opportunity.


    "STAY DOWN!"


    His fist shot out like a hammer, crashing into Rafiq''s wound with everything he had.


    "GAH!"


    Rafiq gasped, his defense faltering for just a second¡ªbut again, that second was more than enough.


    Though that second wasn''t for the de, no, it was to ensure victory.


    Another punch followed.


    Then another.


    And another.


    Each one mmed directly into the gash.


    "AHH¡ª! FUCK YOU! DIE! Y¡ª"


    Malik didn''t let him finish his strangled cries, shoving his knee straight into Rafiq''s groin.


    "HAAAH!"


    Rafiq crumpled in on himself, gasping for air,pletely wide open.


    Deeming it the perfect moment, Malik snatched up the Shamshir without a second thought, gripping it with both hands.


    This time? No way in Hell he was letting go.


    His entire body shook with rage, adrenaline, and pure exhaustion as he reversed his grip and raised it, pointing it down like it was a thunderbolt.


    "DIE!"


    He brought it down with every ounce of strength he had left.


    Squelch!


    The de dug into Rafiq''s thigh, and that sound¡ªwet, disgusting¡ªjust made him go even harder.


    "AAAAAHHHHH¡ª! STOP! STOP, YOU SHIT! PLEASE!"


    Rafiq''s tried to w himself away, his hands scrambling in the dirt like a panicked animal.


    Blood poured from his wound, staining the ground beneath them.


    It was a sorry sight, one that could affect the hearts of many, but Malik wasn''t stopping.


    "I SWEAR! YOU WON''T SEE ME AGAIN! I''LL DISAPPEAR!"


    He didn''t blink at his begging.


    "I SWEAR I WILL!"


    Malik wordlessly dragged himself after Rafiq, each movement fueled by pure spite.


    Then, with a loud snarl, he ripped the de free and mmed it into Rafiq''s back, the impact knocking him t onto his stomach.


    "PLEASE! PLEASE... STOP! SPARE ME!"


    Rafiq''s cries turned pitiful, his body convulsing as he struggled to push himself off the ground.


    His hands continuously shook, slipping in the blood-soaked dirt.


    "I... I... beg you..."


    Malik''s face was nk¡ªexpressionless except for the fire zing in his eyes.


    Begging wasn''t going to work on him.


    He yanked the de free again, blood sttering across his arm, and raised it high.


    His muscles burned, his whole damn body shaking, but he didn''t care.


    This was it. This was the moment.


    Rafiq was about to learn what real pain felt like.


    But before Malik could swing down, before the de could end it all¡ª


    ''...No.''


    Everything went ck.


    No warning. No sound. Just... nothing.


    One second, he was about to end it, and the next¡ªdarkness.

 Chapter 33 Worthless Life

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "What the hell?! What happened?!"


    "Why''d the memories just cut off like that?!"


    "Did he pass out?! Or¡­ or did someone take him out?"


    "But who?! There was literally no one else there!"


    The crowd blew up like a volcano, each Magi shouting over the other.


    "Maybe that bastard had a Scroll or something."


    "Scroll? No way a fucker like that could afford one."


    "Then how the fuck do you exin it, huh?!"


    "He''s right. That''s the only way this makes any sense."


    "True. That Seeker lost the fight."


    "Guess all the training in the world doesn''t mean jack when you''re leaking like a sieve."


    Even those in the front weren''t safe from the mood boiling over.


    Malik''s desperation was there for all to see.


    And it was visceral¡ªraw. Ugly.


    Like a monster stuck in a foot trap, throwing everything it had left at its hunter.


    None of them could look away.


    Because, deep down, they all knew¡ªthis wasn''t something just anyone could do.


    Even those many tens of times older.


    That kind of determination? That single-minded, ice-cold resolve?


    It was on a whole different level.


    The way he sat there, watching Rafiq struggle like a dying fish on sand.


    No pity, no hesitation, just cold eyes...


    Yeah, that was when they saw it.


    The kid who''d fought like hell wasn''t just some scrappy little punk anymore.


    They saw the Sultan.


    La''s heart broke a little at that sight.


    ''It... started.''


    This was it¡ªthe beginning of his change.


    The start of him bing the man she''d eventually know as her husband.


    And unsurprisingly to all, the one who was hurt the most by that was Huda.


    She remained on the ground, curled up, tears blurring her vision, whispering, "I''m sorry," over and over, ming herself for everything.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik awoke to unbearable pain.


    Every inch of his body screamed, protested, begged for mercy he wasn''t going to get.


    He couldn''t even see straight, his world spinning, dizzying, and dark.


    It felt as if a thousand tons pressed down on him with each ragged breath.


    ''I... have to move... get back to them. Sinbad... Huda...''


    He needed to...


    Rafiq wasn''t there!


    But his legs?


    His legs felt like they were made of lead.


    He tried to push himself up, but his arms were weak, useless.


    Not wasting a moment to think of alternatives, he began to crawl, dragging and pushing himself forward.


    Inch by agonizing inch, his fingertips scraped against the dirt, leaving trails of blood in their wake and drenching his robes.


    Each drag of his body sent searing pain from his legs to his spine.


    His thighs were on fire; his knees burned with every single motion.


    His arms neared their breaking point and he could barely feel his hands anymore.


    His head felt like it was split in two, cut by a rusted chainsaw.


    But even then, even with all that unbelievable pain, he didn''t stop.


    It didn''t matter that he was running on fumes, half out of his mind, lost, and directionless.


    Rafiq''s breadcrumb-like trail of blood was before him, and Maliktched onto it like a drowning man grabbing a rope.


    Somehow, by sheer fucking will, his hands continued to dig and pull into the earth, increasing in speed as time passed.


    Yet... it was still so slow. Too damn slow.


    His muscles screamed, begging him to stop, to rest, to just give up already¡ªbut he couldn''t.


    He couldn''t leave them, not after everything.


    Not when he was this close.


    Every pull of his arms, every weak kick of his legs seemed like it might be thest.


    His throat burned with each desperate breath he took, and his mind, fuzzy and fading, whispered doubts he didn''t want to hear.


    ''D-Does this mean anything?''


    He, in what felt like years, had finally reached the patch of trees.


    ''How far I''d gone... Would they even know?''


    Relief didn''t wash over him.


    ''Would they remember?''


    There was a lot more crawling left to do.


    ''...N-no. It doesn''t matter.''


    His hands shot out, grabbing at the trunks, using them to haul himself forward with a speed he didn''t think he had left.


    His legs kicked weakly against the bark, pushing him just a little farther each time.


    Closer.


    Closer to the cave.


    ''I''ll remember...''


    His bloodied lips pressed together.


    ''I will.''


    But then, just as he dragged himself into the clearing...


    ''No... please.''


    A feeling of dread smacked him across the face.


    The air felt off¡ªtoo still, too quiet, the kind that sank its ws into his bones and refused to let go.


    However, it wasn''t just silence.


    The smell.


    That damp, earthy scent you''d expect in a cave? Gone.


    Reced entirely by one thing¡ªblood.


    Heavy, thick, metallic blood.


    Malik didn''t need to think too hard to figure out what had happened.


    Deep down, he already knew.


    But still, he had to confirm. He needed to.


    He pushed forward¡ªone pull, then another, until he tumbled inside, rolling across the cold ground and crashing into a protruding rock.


    Then... he saw them.


    "...Sinbad."


    His voice barely came out¡ªcracked, trembling¡ªlike it didn''t even belong to him.


    Tears spilled down his face before he even realized it, his whole body locking up, every muscle seizing as if they already knew the truth his mind refused to process.


    The world felt as if it had paused for a second and refused to move.


    There he was.


    His little brother.


    Sinbad.


    His small, lifeless body was sprawled on the ground.


    His throat... his throat was cut open, the gaping wound still dripping blood.


    Malik''s heart pounded like it was trying to tear its way out of his chest.


    He couldn''t breathe. Couldn''t see straight.


    It felt like the blood in his veins froze alongside the world.


    His body wouldn''t stop shaking, his mind refusing to make sense of the scene in front of him.


    Sinbad... he was gone.


    His face was in obvious agony, eyes ssy, void of life.


    Malik''s gaze shifted, almost unwillingly, catching sight of Rafiq''s body not far away.


    The snake bastard had bled out, his twisted corpse a mess of blood.


    And Huda?


    She was still breathing. Still alive, still sleeping.


    But none of it mattered.


    Not her.


    Not the monsters deep in the cave.


    Not even that piece of fucking shit Rafiq.


    Sinbad was gone.


    Nothing else in the entire world could matter more than that.


    Malik couldn''t continue ''this'' life anymore.


    He had to ''reset.''


    Dragging himself toward Sinbad''s body, he copsed onto it, every ounce of his strength drained.


    His arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him close as if he could somehow will the warmth back into him.


    But Sinbad was cold. So very cold.


    "Hah... hahaha..."


    A brokenugh slipped out of his lips, sounding more like a sob.


    Truly, Malik didn''t care anymore¡ªnot about whether he was dying or if he was already dead.


    Rocking back and forth, he held Sinbad tight, cradling him like his hollow little shell wasn''t already gone.


    "..."


    The words wouldn''te.


    He couldn''t even name what he was feeling.


    Grief? Anger? Despair?


    It wasn''t just one thing¡ªit was everything.


    All of it crashed down on him at once, like his chest was being ripped open and crushed repeatedly.


    The pain was too much, too big, too... loud.


    ''...I have... I have to.''


    Malik''s tear-filled gaze drifted to the shamshir lying on the blood-soaked ground, its de glinting faintly in the dying light.


    The same de that had stolen Sinbad''s life.


    His hand shook as he reached for it, fingers curling around the hilt.


    The cold steel felt heavier than anything he''d ever held before.


    Bringing it close, he pressed the edge to his throat, the sharp bite of the de sending a shiver through him.


    He didn''t want to die. Not really.


    But living?


    Living like this?


    That wasn''t an option.


    Did he know his "return by death" would work?


    No.


    But again, right now, he didn''t care.


    Not about the risks, the uncertainty, not even the faint, desperate hope buried somewhere deep inside him.


    All he knew was that the pain had to stop.


    He needed to make it end.


    And so, without a second thought, Malik dragged the de across his throat.


    The sharp sting was immediate, followed by blood rushing out in hot waves, spilling down his chest and hands.


    He could feel the burning pain dissipating, his body growing cold and numb, his vision narrowing into a pinprick until there was nothing left but...


    Thud.


    Darkness.@@novelbin@@

 Chapter 34 What Have They Done To Us

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall was silent.


    Theughter and murmurs that had filled the space earlier were gone.


    All was swallowed whole by the brutal scene that had just unfolded.


    Even the faintest sound¡ªthe shifting of a foot, the rustle of fabric¡ªseemed like an insult to its weight.


    And then someone¡ªsomeone stupid¡ªhad finally broken the silence:


    "What¡­ what the Hell was that?"


    The voice was shaky, disbelieving, and it triggered an avnche of reactions.


    "Did he just¡ª?"


    "Did he really¡ª?"


    "He actually did it..."


    Low murmurs spread through the crowd, growing louder, more chaotic.


    "Return by death."


    Someone whispered it like it was the most unholy thing they''d ever known, and suddenly a consequential question surfaced:


    "But wait, if he did that, then how¡ª"


    "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"


    The yell came out of nowhere, furious, and it shut everyone down in an instant.


    Huda.


    Her fist mmed down on the floor, a jarring crack that seemed to shake the entire hall.


    The crowd? Silent again. Not a single damn peep after that.


    And Huda didn''t even bother looking at them.


    "Watch..."


    Her voice was shaking, but it was solid, like steel wrapped in fire.


    When she spoke, you listened.


    "Just watch."


    They did.


    Her whole body was trembling like a leaf in a storm just seconds ago, but now?


    Now she was stone.


    Eyes locked on the projection.


    Not blinking. Not moving. Not breathing.


    Because this?


    This wasn''t how it was supposed to go.


    ...Not like this.


    Not like this, Malik.


    She wanted to scream, to tear her hair out, to grab him by the shoulders and shake him until he woke up.


    ''It''s okay... big brother.''


    ''You don''t have to do this anymore.''


    ''You don''t have to hurt like this.''


    But she couldn''t.


    Because it wasn''t over.


    Not for him.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Blink.


    Malik gasped awake, choking as his body spasmed against the cold dirt.


    "Haaah... haaah... haaah..."


    He could breathe again... he could see.


    "...Fuck. Shit... haaaah¡ªshit..."


    After a few stuttering breaths, he pressed his hand to his throat¡ªnothing.


    No gaping wound. Just skin.


    But the memory was still there, a phantom pain.@@novelbin@@


    And his neck wasn''t the only part of him that felt pain.


    "No."


    His whole body was screaming.


    A raw, vicious ache all over, like he''d been torn apart and pieced back together wrong.


    "No... no!"


    The dirt under his bloodied palms felt too real.


    The familiar sting of every ache, the pounding in his skull, his lungs struggling to draw air¡ªthey all screamed one thing.


    "No, no, no, no... Please, no¡­"


    ...It wasn''t the same.


    That peaceful stillness he had been expecting wasn''t there.


    "No, no, no, no, no, no..."


    His eyes darted around the patch of trees.


    Where was it?! Where were they?!


    He was supposed to be back in the cave. Back with them.


    On the morning of the seventh day, long before the bird swooped in.


    Long before it all went to Hell.


    But this? This wasn''t it.


    The warmth of Huda beside him nestled close, the sound of Sinbad aimlessly walking around the cave.


    "No. No, no, no, no, no¡ªthis isn''t right. This isn''t fucking right!"


    The relief of a new day, the chance to start over.


    A quiet moment of hope, a clean te.


    "Please!"


    No, this was different.


    This wasn''t that moment at all.


    The "checkpoint..."


    It had moved.


    At that realization, Malik felt pain that he didn''t even think was possible.


    "WHY?!"


    The word tore out of him, ripping through the still air like a wounded animal''s cry.


    And then he was moving.


    Crawling. Dragging himself forward, his hands scraping against the dirt, leaving bloody streaks as he pushed through the agony.


    ''AHHHHHHHHHHHH!''


    His mind screamed, feeling like a thousand shards of ss were slicing through his skull.


    But it wasn''t just the pain.


    It was the panic.


    He didn''t understand.


    "¡­This can''t be real."


    The ground scraped against his palms, his knees, the pressure building up in his body like a dam about to burst.


    "Please¡­ please let me see them."


    The cave got close, already suffocating. Its smell nauseating.


    "Let me hear Sinbad''s voice."


    The entrance loomed ahead, dark, but Malik didn''t hesitate.


    "Let me see him alive¡­ just one more time."


    He copsed through the entrance, tumbling down, his body harshly hitting the rocks.


    And there they were.


    Sinbad.


    Huda.


    Rafiq.


    The blood. The stillness. The silence.


    It was all exactly the same.


    Malik''s heart shattered all over again.


    "No... no, no, no..."


    His voice was barely audible now as he crawled toward Sinbad''s body.


    His eyes stayed fixed on the boy''s face, on the lifeless, agonized expression frozen there.


    "WHY DO THIS TO ME?!"


    This couldn''t be happening.


    It wasn''t supposed to happen.


    But it was.


    He couldn''t deny it anymore.


    "WHHHYYYYY?!"


    The hopelessness, the rage, the screaming.


    All of it had returned. All of it.


    "¡ªFUCK!"


    Malik didn''t even hesitate this time.


    He crawled to Sinbad''s body and grabbed that damned de, his heart a hollow thing.


    Before the tears coulde, he slit his throat.


    Blink.


    But nothing changed.


    He didn''t get to feel the peace he needed, no sweet release.


    The world went dark, then came back¡ªagain, in that cursed moment.


    Same ce, same feeling. Same desperation.


    Everything... everything felt like it had been for nothing.


    There was no escape.


    But still, Malik couldn''t believe it.


    He wouldn''t.


    So he did it again.


    And again.


    And again.


    And again.


    He lost count.


    Each time, the pain was worse. The despair deeper.


    By the fifth time, Malik no longer screamed.


    He just stared at Sinbad''s body before slicing his throat open like it was routine.


    By the tenth, he stopped looking.


    The blood, the bodies, the pain¡ªthey blurred together into one endless nightmare.


    And yet, every time he opened his eyes, he was back in that same Godforsaken ce.


    The twelfth time, Malik didn''t even move.


    He justy there, staring up at the twisted branches above him, his chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths.


    "¡­Why won''t you just let me die?"


    Tears streamed down his face as he waited for a reply.


    "..."


    But no one answered.


    The fifteenth time, a piece of him broke.


    Malik crawled back to Sinbad''s body, his hands trembling as he pulled the boy close.


    Sinbad''s skin was cold. So cold it burned.


    Malik''s arms wrapped around him tightly, his body shaking as he pressed his forehead against Sinbad''s.


    "¡­I''m sorry."


    Blink.


    Was it the twentieth time? The fiftieth? Who cared?


    Every time he ended it, it was the same thing.


    He was trapped in it.


    Sinbad''s cold body, Rafiq''s blood, and Huda...


    She still slept like the world hadn''t just torn itself apart.


    At times, he didn''t even bother crawling to them.


    He just mmed his head against the ground, over and over, until his mind shut down, and death took him again.


    The pain felt like it was peeling him apart,yer byyer, each death making him a little less human, a little less himself.


    But then, after an uncounted number of cycles, pain, and mind-numbing despair...


    Something changed.


    His darkening soul gained a pink speck of brightness.


    And that, for whatever reason, calmed his desperate mind.


    Malik crawled to Sinbad''s body once more, but this time he didn''t just do it mechanically.


    He seemed to have epted it.


    The lifeless figure of his little brother was no longer a ''thing'' to escape.


    Malik held him close, pressing his body against Sinbad''s, feeling the cold seeping into him.


    His heart shattered again, but this time, he didn''t look away. He didn''t try to escape it.


    He pulled Sinbad even closer, his hands shaking, and pulled Huda into the same embrace.


    For a moment, Malik just sat there, holding them both, his tears falling silently onto their faces.


    Two opposites in his arms, and he was stuck right in the middle, drowning in it.


    One body was ice. Cold as death. Because it was death.


    The other burned up. Hot like fire under his hands.


    It messed him up.


    Twisted his heart into knots that he couldn''t even begin to untangle.


    It was all too much, too cruel.


    Then, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he spoke:


    "¡­You."


    His voice was hoarse, broken, and jagged like it''d been scraped against stone.


    He wasn''t talking to anyone in the room¡ªnot to Sinbad, not to Huda, not to himself.


    It was to something else. Someone else.


    "I''ve heard your name a thousand times from those preachers..."


    His gaze locked on the ceiling, as if staring straight through it to some distant, unreachable ce.


    "The True Sultan. The God of All."


    His bloodshot eyes burned with a hatred that didn''t even make sense to him.


    "They say you''re always there¡­ watching."


    Those words tasted bitter in his mouth, like bile.


    "You are almighty..."


    His chest heaved, his voice rising.


    "Tell me... Are you or are you not?!"


    "..."


    Nothing.


    Just the oppressive weight of silence, pressing down like a b of stone.


    "WHY WON''T YOU FIX THIS?! WHY?!"


    His desperate scream echoed back to him as if to mock him.


    "If you''re there... if you''re real¡ªyou can stop this, right?! Fix it?! BRING HIM BACK!"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    And still, there was no answer.


    Just nothing but silence.


    Malik chuckled bitterly, the sound so hollow it made him ache even more.


    "¡­How can you be so cruel?"


    He stared down at them¡ªhis responsibility.


    "What did they... did we do to deserve this?"


    His family.


    The ones he was supposed to protect.


    The ones he failed to save.


    He buried his face in Sinbad''s blood-matted crimson hair, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.


    "Just what have they done to us?"


    His voice was nothing but a quiet rasp in the silence.


    Then, as if in answer, footsteps echoed¡ªsoft at first, then heavier, louder with each step.


    Malik''s head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes darting to the cave''s entrance.


    A shadow stretched across the ground, long and distorted, until finally, a figure entered the cave.

 Chapter 35 Id Choose You

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    No one said a word.


    No one dared to move.


    Not even the ''main characters.''


    The projection didn''t stop. It didn''t slow down, didn''t give anyone time to breathe or think as it usually did.


    It just kept rolling, hammering them with every brutal second like it wanted them to drown in it.


    And in that crushing silence, one thought hung heavy in everyone''s mind:


    ''What kind of persones back from something like this... and doesn''t break?''


    Nobody. That was who.


    Nobody could walk out of something like this still whole.


    Malik wasn''t just broken¡ªhis mind, his body, his soul¡ªit was all shattered.


    Not the kind of hurt one could fix with time or whatever hopeful crap people tell themselves.


    This was the kind of broken that gutted you, hollowed you out, and left behind... what, exactly?


    Nobody knew.


    Nobody even wanted to know.


    But one thing was painfully clear:


    When the pieces finally hit the ground, whatever was left wouldn''t be him anymore.


    It''d be something else.


    Something twisted, forged out of nothing but pain and spite.


    And if they were being real for a second?


    That scared them.


    They knew that it wasing but still... they didn''t want to see it happen.


    It was too cruel, even for a world like theirs.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Like the people outside, the man in pink robes didn''t move, didn''t speak¡ªjust stood there, staring.


    His presence was as abrupt as a p to the face, and Malik couldn''t process it.


    Not with the weight of the kids'' bodies in his arms.


    All he could feel was an unbearable ache.


    But apparently, the world wasn''t done with him yet.


    Hadn''t taken enough.


    The dove had cried for the loss of its chick to an owl...


    But its cries had only invited another of its kind to supper.


    And well... this owl, he looked... wrong.


    Not wrong in the sense of monstrous or alien¡ªnothing so tant.


    No, this wrongness was subtler, in a way that made the hairs on the back of Malik''s neck stand up.


    There was something about him, like he was more than a man.


    Divine almost. Like he stood a step closer to God than anyone had a right to.


    But that wasn''t what left Malik reacting the way that he did.


    It was the man''s hair.


    That same deep crimson.


    The color of Sinbad''s.@@novelbin@@


    The color of Huda''s.


    "Who are you?"


    "..."


    Receiving no reply, Malikid down the kids.


    Then he pushed himself up to his knees and aimed the shamshir forward.


    "Tell me. Who are you?"


    "..."


    The man didn''t answer, again.


    He simply stood there, towering over Malik with this almost bored look on his face.


    "...Can you tell me who you are?"


    The phrasing of that question seemed to finally hit the right note for him to answer.


    "Cyrus. And I''m here because everything has reached its conclusion."


    Malik didn''t understand at first.


    He just stared at Cyrus, trying to piece together what was happening.


    But then, like a punch to the gut, it hit him, making him drop the de.


    ''This man.''


    ng...


    THIS man!


    The image of the kids lying limp in the alleyway shed in his mind.


    Covered by sand and dust, lying on death''s door.


    It was him.


    HE was the one who had dumped them there.


    Left them to die... to rot.


    Rage exploded inside him, a fire of all-consuming gold.


    It begged him to act, to lunge at Cyrus with every ounce of strength he had left.


    But somehow, somehow, he held back, he held it in.


    Logic whispered its cold truths, keeping him rooted in ce, even as his blood screamed for vengeance.


    Because there was one fact that was impossible to deny.


    Malikcked the power to be angry at Cyrus.


    So instead... he begged:


    "Please. Please, you have to save Sinbad."


    Malik lowered his head.


    "...He''s your family, isn''t he? You can bring him back. You can do something!"


    Cyrus didn''t blink. As if not a single word had entered his mind.


    He looked through Malik like he wasn''t even there.


    And then, to make it worse, the bastard stepped back.


    Not cautiously, not hesitantly¡ªno, it was deliberate, like the boy was some mangy, diseased animal he wanted no part of.


    That kind of dismissal would''ve crushed most people.


    Would''ve made them back off, retreat into whatever scraps of pride they had left.


    But Malik? He didn''t have any pride left.


    It was nonexistent when it came to them.


    He simply did not care for how he was seen.


    "Please..."


    His hands wed at the ground as he dragged himself closer.


    "Please, you have to¡ª"


    The words barely left his mouth before Cyrus kicked his chest, sending him crashing into the wall.


    Thud!


    Malik hit the wall so hard it felt like his ribs had been turned to powder.


    His whole body screamed in pain as hey there for a long second, coughing, gasping, feeling like his whole damn body was falling apart, struggling to stay conscious.


    Every time he thought the pain had hit its peak, that it couldn''t possibly get any worse, fate smacked him down again just to prove him wrong.


    And yet, it still wasn''t enough to stop him.


    Because that fire in his chest¡ªthe frustration, the rage, the need¡ªwas stronger than any pain.


    "Sir..."


    Gritting his teeth, Malik dragged himself back up, one shaky movement at a time.


    "...Please."


    Cyrus just stood there, staring down at him like he wasn''t even human. Like all his suffering was just a show.


    And judging by the faintest ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, this show was one that he really enjoyed.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The air in the hall felt suffocating.


    Like many times before, nobody said a word.


    Yet what differed was that every eye was turned to one woman.


    Huda.


    The one who had gone on and on about her uncle, the Former Sultan, the man she''d called kind, wise, noble¡ªevery damn title under the Shams.


    And now this.


    They all wanted to ask the same question.


    "¡­Where the Hell was the kindness?"


    But... again, no one dared to say it out loud. Not even Azeem.


    Not only for her sake but for the Former Sultan''s as well.


    They didn''t need to anyway.


    It was written all over their faces.


    And maybe, on another day, Huda would''ve cared.


    Might''ve looked them in the eye, fought back, defended herself, and thrown their judgment right back in their faces.


    But now?


    She couldn''t even bear to look at the projection.


    Her eyes darted to the edges of the hall, searching, desperate for an escape.


    She wanted out.


    Out of this ce.


    Out of this nightmare.


    Out of this suffocating guilt pressing down on her chest like a mountain.


    If she opened her mouth, if she tried to exin herself¡ªwhat could she even say?


    What words could possibly make this right?


    To justify what they''d just seen?


    The memory¡ªthe truth¡ªwasid bare in front of them, undeniable.


    And there was no hiding from it.


    Huda and her brother had caused it all.


    Without them in the picture, Malik wouldn''t have suffered as he did.


    The world wouldn''t have spiraled into chaos.


    That realization hit her like a dagger to the heart, twisting, twisting, and twisting.


    What remained of herposure shattered.


    She began to weep¡ªnot quietly, not with even a shred of dignity.


    It wasn''t the kind of crying one could choke back.


    It was raw, ugly, the sound of a person unraveling at the seams.


    Like a lost child searching for their parents, she broke apart right then and there.


    Tears fell freely, her sobs filling the suffocating silence.


    This was a scene that would''ve tugged at anyone''s heartstrings.


    But no one moved.


    Not La.


    Not Safira.


    Not Roya.


    Not Noor.


    Not Azeem.


    Not even Zafar, the supposed hero.


    Her own camp¡ªfamily members, people she had trusted, fought alongside¡ªthey just¡­ stood there.


    In shock, in difort, in judgment.


    Not a single person stepped forward to console her, to offer even a whisper offort.


    And that, more than anything, crushed herpletely.


    For she, like Malik, felt alone.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "I didn''te here to this pathetic ass, kid."


    Cyrus finally spoke.


    "Sinbad''s dead. Can''t fix it. And she''s¡ª"


    He gestured to Huda, still lying there, sleeping.


    "¡ªthe one who won the right to session. Not him."


    Malik''s blood went cold.


    "What the fuck are you talking about? Session? If it''s about proving who''s fit to lead your fucked-up family, then Sinbad''s the one who deserves it! He deserved it more than anyone!"


    Cyrus just shrugged, lookingpletely uninterested.


    "Doesn''t matter. It''s the way of the world...."


    While listening to his words, Malik felt his vision go blurry, his world sinking.


    ''NO!''


    But then, with a scream that shook his mind, he forced himself to stay upright, to stay angry.


    "...Luck failed Sinbad, and now he''s dead. Huda''s the one who gets it all."


    He snapped his head towards the bastard.


    "Why?... Why do this to your own family?! To your own flesh and blood?!"


    Cyrus clicked his tongue.


    "As. I. Have. Already. Saaaaaaid. It''s the way things are~. It''s the way they''ve always been. Besides, Sinbad was too much of a dreamer, too much of a fool, and now look where it''s gotten him."


    The coldness of Cyrus''s words shook off the fog clouding Malik''s mind more than anything he tried.


    This monster of a man had the nerve to call Sinbad, his flesh and blood, a fool?


    To brush his life aside like it was nothing?


    "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!"


    Malik forced himself up and got closer, clinging to the wall for support.


    Cyrus, seemingly unbothered by his struggle, went past and halted just before Huda.


    "STOP!"


    Much to Malik''s dismay, Cyrus wasn''t much too keen on listening to him.


    He bent down, picked her up, and took a step toward the cave''s exit.


    "Noooooo~? Going to scream that next? Don''t bother."


    Cyrus didn''t stop moving.


    "You''re nothing but a speck of dust... Buuuuut~. Not all is lost."


    He stepped over Sinbad and passed Malik again, still not giving him face.


    "You still can be something... something real interesting."


    Slowing a little, he added:


    "It''s to the point that I would''ve chosen you over the both of them."


    Malik''s eyes widened in disbelief.


    "Heard me right, kid. I''d choose you if I could."

 Chapter 36 Sworn Promise

    "...Too bad you''re a nobody."


    Cyrus continued:


    "Though your talent''scking, you''ve got brains, hidden skill~... and a little luck. Most don''t even have that."


    Malik tried to force out a retort, but before he could open his mouth, Cyrus flicked his hand.


    That simple action released a trickle of pressure, and suddenly it was like a mountain dropped onto his chest.


    "Ugh¡ª!"


    His body immediately broke down, and he could do nothing buty there, watch, and listen.


    "Though that isn''t what makes you interesting. You, my friend~... happen to be full of Aether. Stuffed. That''s the only reason I''m even speaking to you. Maybe you''ll figure out why if you surviveeeeee."


    Cyrus turned to leave, handling Huda like a sack of potatoes.


    "Right now, you''re a waste of oxygen. But if you want to ascend..."


    He nced at Rafiq''s body.


    "Well, that''s on you. Figure it out. Maybe you''ll survive."


    His words weren''t just dismissive¡ªthey were cutting, dripping with condescension, like Malik wasn''t even worth the dirt on his boots.


    And yet, as those words sank in, something deep inside the boy stirred.


    No. Not stirred. It roared.


    He felt it in his chest, his gut, every fiber of his being¡ªa primal rage that burned hotter than the Shams way above them.


    But, even then, he didn''t say a word.


    He had to keep it in.


    "...Tshh¡ª"


    Malik bit down so hard on his lip it nearly bled.


    His fists clenched at his sides, tight enough to make the wounds under his broken fingertips reopen, blood seeping out and dripping onto the ground.


    The pain wasn''t even registering. All he could feel was that fire.


    He was NOT going to give Cyrus the satisfaction of seeing him lose it.


    "...Noooooo~?"


    Cyrus paused mid-step, ncing back with the faintest glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.


    He''d expected an outburst. A scream. A plea. Something.


    But instead, all he got was silence.


    "You know..."


    Tilting his head slightly, his voice became smooth and poisonous as a snake''s hiss.


    "I wonder... why did you sacrifice so much for them? I mean, seven days? That''s all it took? Really?"


    He gesturedzily toward Sinbad''s body, still lifeless, still cold.


    "You''ve got no blood bond to them. No obligation. So why? What makes them worth it?"


    Malik''s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together.


    He had a thousand answers to that question. A thousand reasons why.


    "..."


    But none of them left his lips.


    Instead, he remained on the ground, silent, his rage a volcano ready to blow.


    Cyrus raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by theck of response, and then smirked like he''d just thought of something especially cruel.


    "Nothing to say?"


    He turned fully and looked down at him, mimicking the start of their first scene together.


    "Do you think she would do the same?"


    ...That was it.


    The breaking point.


    Malik''s head snapped up, his eyes zing, every ounce of pain and fury he''d bottled up spilling over in that one moment.


    "Of course, of course she would!"


    He punched the wall, his battered body be damned.


    "I don''t doubt it. Not for a SECOND!"


    The cave fell silent.


    For a moment, even Cyrus looked taken aback¡ªnot by the words themselves, but by the unfiltered emotion behind them.


    Malik wasn''t speaking from logic.


    He wasn''t even speaking from hope.


    He was speaking from a ce so deep, so absolute, that not even the devil himself could''ve shaken his belief.


    But Cyrus?


    He just smiled. A small, knowing, almost pitying smile.


    "Interesting."


    He said softly, almost to himself, before turning away again, his footsteps fading.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Of course? ¡­ What ''of course''?"


    Safira''s voice was sharp as she turned to Huda.


    Her eyes narrowed, burning with contempt.


    "Not just not saving him¡ªno. You killed him. The man who sacrificed so much for you, and you just¡ª"


    She didn''t finish the sentence, but she didn''t need to.


    Everyone knew what she was going to say.


    "...You have no right to stand in this hall."


    La crossed her arms, her expression just as cold.


    "Even called him her brother."


    The hall buzzed as they heard those two admonish Al-Sayf''s Lady.


    "I used to believe it... But I can''t anymore. Not after seeing this."


    "They had no blood ties, but they acted more like family than most real families do."


    "Their love... it transcended all that. There''s no way he''d¡ª"


    Another cut in:


    "¡ªYeah, no way."


    "He sacrificed so much for her, for Sinbad. Even after all that happened to him. I can''t see him betraying her."


    "It has to be some sort of misunderstanding."


    Most of themnded on that conclusion.


    Right, not all, but ''most,'' as people like the "hero" remained, numbering in the hundreds.


    They were disconnected entirely from those around them, not joining both the murmurs of outrage and the frantic attempts to defend Huda''s honor.


    Zafar was the worst of them.


    He stayed quiet, his face calm, but his eyes burned with something far darker.


    Hatred.


    Deep, festering hatred.


    It didn''t matter to him what anyone else thought.


    He wasn''t interested in the back-and-forth or the what-ifs.


    He didn''t care about their defenses or their shock.


    He knew the truth¡ªor at least, he was convinced he did.


    Malik was no closer to a hero than a monster was to the divine.


    He was a liar, a schemer, a traitor, a Viin¡ªand every betrayal he''d dealt Huda had been for his own gain.


    And when the projection finally showed it all¡ªthe heavy knife he''d repeatedly driven into her back¡ªher guilt wouldn''t just fade; it''d burn to ash.


    Her pain, her self-loathing, their shared history¡ªevery fragile thread would snap under the truth.


    Whatever bond she thought they had, whatever trust or understanding she''d built with him, tried to hold onto, would shatter into pieces too sharp to touch.


    And maybe, just maybe, if Zafar was lucky, the wreckage of her emotions wouldn''t be wasted.


    Maybe they''d twist into something darker.


    Something cruel.


    Something that, in the end, might serve his purpose.


    ''Patience.''


    A cold smirk tugged at his lips.


    Zafar could wait.


    ''Betrayal always burns the deepest when ites from the ones you trusted most.''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik stayed where he was, his body shaking like a leaf in a storm.


    His fingers dug into the stone floor so hard it felt like they might just crack through it.@@novelbin@@


    His jaw was clenched so tight he thought his teeth would snap, blood dripping from where his lip split open.


    He didn''t move.


    He didn''t shout.


    Because he couldn''t.


    Not without signing his own death warrant.


    Malik knew how it would end if he had let one word slip.


    His head would roll.


    This self-inflicted pain was grounding.


    A tether that kept him from losing himselfpletely to the firestorm boiling inside.


    And Cyrus? He knew.


    The bastard didn''t even bother looking back.


    Malik wasn''t worth it.


    Just a coward.


    And that helplessness¡ªthat choking, unbearable helplessness¡ªburned worse than anything else.


    "I''ll kill you. I swear... I''ll make you pay for this..."


    His whispers were quiet, but to him, they couldn''t be any louder.


    ''If I can''t survive this...''


    The truth wed at him like a parasite, digging deep into the cracks of his resolve.


    ''If I can''t Ascend...''


    Then his words¡ªhis promise¡ªwould be meaningless.


    He''d die like everyone else.


    Forgotten.


    Weak.


    And Cyrus would keep walking, untouched, untouchable.


    Malik didn''t know how, or when, or even if he''d get the chance...


    But if he did, if he survived, he would make Cyrus regret the day he crossed him.


    ''I swear it.''

 Chapter 37 Remember Me

    By the time their star''s light no longer pushed through the darkness above...


    "Houuuff..."


    Malik had reached the top of the hill, Sinbad''s body cradled against him.


    He didn''t know how his legs still functioned¡ªhow his arms still pulled¡ªbut he certainly wasn''t thinking about it.


    He wasn''t thinking about anything at all.


    Malik just kept crawling, even when every pull was heavier than thest.


    Stopping wasn''t an option.


    Not until Sinbad had a ce to rest.


    When he reached the crest, he gentlyid Sinbad next to him, as if the boy might suddenly stir and grumble about being handled too roughly.


    "Sorry, kid... I''m not too good at this. Only did it once before."


    Then, he began to dig, wing away at the dirt.


    It felt stubborn, almost alive, resisting his efforts,


    But there was no alternative, no tool he could use.


    And so, Malik did the only thing he could.


    He fought harder, even as the ground bit into his palms, scraping his skin raw.


    Blood mixed with dirt, his fingers trembling with the strain.


    Each handful of dirt came at a cost.


    The pain he felt simply must''ve been otherworldly.


    "You deserve more than this..."


    Yet he seemed unbothered like he could no longer feel anything.


    "A real grave. Not just... this."


    There was only one thing on his mind at that moment.


    Sinbad deserved better.


    He really did.


    Time blurred as he dug, his mind lost in a haze.


    Malik wasn''t sure how long it took¡ªminutes, hours. It didn''t matter.


    Eventually, the hole was deep enough, at least six feet.


    He sat back, panting, his arms shaking uncontrobly.


    His vision swam, but he forced himself to move, to lift Sinbad onest time.


    The boy''s body felt so light. Impossibly light. Even lighter than Huda.


    It was wrong.


    Everything about this moment was wrong.


    Malik lowered Sinbad into the grave with infinite care, constantly adjusting his position.


    When he finally let go, when his hands left Sinbad''s still form, what little remained of his heart shattered.


    The weight of everything came crashing down like andslide, crushing himpletely.


    "Guess this is it, huh?..."


    The words tasted bitter in his mouth, like poison.


    "You''re really gone."


    Malik reached for the dirt, scooping and pushing it back into the hole.


    His tears started slow, silent, falling into the dirt like tiny raindrops.


    Then they came harder, faster, until he was sobbing openly.


    His body was wracked with the kind of grief he''d been holding back for what felt like years.


    He looked pathetic¡ªlost¡ªbut again, he didn''t care, allowing himself this moment.


    Malik let himself feel it all, the sorrow, the anger, the guilt, the love.


    All of it.


    "I''m sorry. I''m sorry I couldn''t protect you. I''m sorry I wasn''t enough."


    His voice broke repeatedly, his chest heaving as sobs tore through him.


    ''...Now I''m the one wasting water, huh?''


    The thought came out of nowhere, uninvited, and it made himugh¡ªa small, bitter sound that quickly dissolved into another wave of tears.


    "You''d be pissed if you saw me like this, wouldn''t you?"


    He wiped at his face with his dirty palm, smearing dirt and tears across his skin.


    "S-Stuttering root-loving bastard."


    When the grave was finally covered, he dragged himself over to a nearby stone, gripping it tightly with what little strength he had left.


    With a grunt, he ced it at the head of the mound.


    It wasn''t much, but it was something¡ªsomething to mark the ce where Sinbad would rest.


    "I''ll remember you..."


    Malik leaned down, pressing a quivering kiss to the cold stone.


    "I''ll always remember you, Sinbad."


    He didn''t really know how to say it, didn''t have the right words.@@novelbin@@


    A man''s love was validation, and it certainly wasn''t easy to express.


    Especially between guys¡ªit wasn''t the kind of thing one just threw around.


    But, though he was a child, Malik knew that it mattered.


    Even now... even when it was toote.


    "I''m proud of you."


    It felt like the words ripped him in half on the way out.


    It was true, though. It had always been true.


    And it crushed him that Sinbad never got to hear it when it counted.


    Theirst words to each other were so normal, so damn ordinary. As if it were any other day.


    "I won''t take long."


    "Be careful."


    "I will."


    That was it. That was all they got.


    Malik just... he just...


    He sat there for hours, the cold night air biting at his skin, the darkness above like a distant, indifferent witness to his grief.


    Eventually, he forced himself to stand, his legs still wobbling beneath him.


    He stared at the grave for a long moment, his heart heavy.


    Then, he turned away, his face a mask of stone.


    "Goodby¡ª"


    "Thank you, big brother!"


    The voice was faint, barely a whisper, but it froze him in his tracks.


    Malik''s eyes widened, and he whipped around so fast his foot caught on the uneven ground, causing him to stumble.


    "Sinbad?!"


    "..."


    The hilltop was empty, silent save for the wind.


    He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.


    "...Losing it."


    When he made it back to the cave, he noticed an obvious change to how he hadst left it.


    Rafiq''s body was gone.


    Not just gone but likely devoured.


    His clothes were strewn across the floor, a dark bloodstain marking the base of a nearby rock.


    His shamshiry discarded beside a torn piece of paper, its runes faded to near illegibility.


    But it was the book that caught Malik''s attention.


    Small, battered, and unassuming, it sat where Rafiq had been, its cover as worn as the rest of it.


    Malik slowly picked it up, flipping it open.


    The first page was nk.


    No, not nk¡ªfaded.


    He squinted at the faint lettering, his lips moving as he tried to sound out the title.


    "M-Magi for..."


    The words vanished.


    Before he could react, three clear, unmistakable words burned themselves into his mind.


    {Magi For Dummies.}


    His hands shook, the book suddenly feeling heavier in his grasp.


    Malik didn''t understand anything that was happening.


    He could barely read, yet those words had been as clear as day, etched into his thoughts.


    "What the Hell..."


    The book suddenly pulsed, like it was alive.


    "What the fuck is this?!"


    He mmed it shut and threw it away. Hard.


    It hit the cave wall with a dull thud, falling to the ground.


    "Ugh!"


    And that was when the pain hit.


    It wasn''t physical, not exactly, but it still hurt. A lot.


    A torrent of something¡ªmemories, thoughts, knowledge¡ªpoured into his mind all at once, like someone had taken a bucket of ice water and dumped it over his brain.


    He clutched his head, falling to his knees, mping his mouth against the onught.


    Itsted a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity.


    And then, as quickly as it came, it was gone.


    Malik stayed there, hunched over, breathing hard.


    His heart was racing, but his mind¡­


    His mind felt different.


    Calmer. Clearer.


    He looked up, his eyes darting to the book lying on the ground where he''d thrown it.


    "¡­I see."


    His body lit up in a golden fire that shot out in every direction.


    "Because of you... because of you, Devil''s Maw will know my name."


    But before all the licks of me could devour him, time froze, this time for real.


    ***


    Or rather, it wasn''t that time itself had paused but the projection did.


    Slowly, it faded to ck, and a text obvious to all on the outside was disyed.


    {Will Resume Shortly...}


    {End Of Volume One: Remember Me.}

 Chapter 38 Blackeyes

    ***


    ''...Man. I''ve really been through it, huh?


    Drifting above them all was Malik, just a flicker of a soul no one could see.


    His thoughts were a mess.


    No more than ten seconds ago, he was in there.


    Thinking. Doing. Reliving. Embodying.@@novelbin@@


    He wasn''t just watching his past self¡ªhe was him.


    Dying, dying, dying¡­ over and over and over.


    It was Hell. A Hell he knew. A Hell he ''remembered.''


    And like an idiot, he thought that he was ready for it.


    Thought he could handle it because he''d already lived through it once.


    Yeah, no. That was a joke.


    Knowing something? That''s easy. ''Remembering'' it? Painful, but still manageable.


    Living it again?


    Feeling every punch, every scream, every heartbreak like it was brand new?


    That was a whole different beast.


    He was there, even in the moments they didn''t see, the ones that weren''t part of the ''show.''


    Every doubt. Every decision. Every bit of despair.


    He felt it all.


    And just when he thought he''d be engulfed by his own mes¡ª


    Ding!


    That sound. That stupid, familiar sound.


    What followed was the Script, right in his mind''s eye, taking over everything.


    {Felicitaciones. Gratulerer. Herzlichen Gl¨¹ckwunsch. Parab¨¦ns. §±§à§Ù§Õ§â§Ñ§Ó§Ý§ñ§ð. Gratcje. F¨¦licitations. ×£ºØ. ¤ª¤á¤Ç¤È¤¦¤´¤¶¤¤¤Þ¤¹. ¦²¦Ô¦Ã¦Ö¦Á¦Ñ¦Ç¦Ó?¦Ñ¦É¦Á. Ch¨²c m?ng. Tillykke. ?Enhorabuena!. Mazal Tov. ?????. Badhai Ho. ?estitamo. Gratul¨¢lok. ?nnitlused. Apsveicam. Tahniah... Congrattions.}


    It was endless¡ªjust "congrattions" vomited out in everynguage known to history.


    Each word was written differently, as if many hundreds of people had penned this Script.


    The thing was so obnoxiously long that it had eclipsed his ''vision,'' making him skip most of it.


    For a second, Malik just blinked, too stunned to react.


    ''What¡­ the fuck?''


    But right as he was about to express his confusion, the mess of letters vanished, reced by something clearer.


    [Would you like a short break? Your life''s first volume, ''Remember Me,'' has concluded.]


    A beat.


    ''...What?''


    Then, after another beat, the Malik of a few seconds ago stopped hesitating.


    ''Yes.''


    He answered, eager, the word barely on his mind before his vision went dark.


    When it cleared, he was back on the throne, though not for long.


    He watched as his chained body was left behind, and his essence¡ªhis soul¡ªwas yanked free.


    Malik drifted upward, floating away from the crowd below.


    Many, if not all of them, were still frozen, eyes stuck on the projection.


    It was for a time much longer than his, even though they barely saw the half of it.


    Not that it was surprising.


    They''d just watched Malik¡ªthe man they''d branded as the "Viin," a devil, a bastard¡ªbe reborn.


    They saw the Sultan they imed to know.


    The man they had once followed and feared.


    But Malik? The one floating above them now?


    He didn''t give a damn.


    Guilt? Regret? Maybe they felt it. Maybe they didn''t.


    He wasn''t privy to their reactions, too busy dying.


    But either way, he certainly wasn''t about to waste his energy figuring it out.


    Not now when it was all over.


    Besides, unlike the other Malik, he hated these people.


    Everyst one of them.


    Huda. Safira. La. Noor. Roya. Azeem. And especially Zafar.


    They could all rot in Hell, for all he cared.


    If he made it through this mess¡ªsurvived the showing and his subsequent release¡ªMalik already knew what his next move would be.


    He''d get the fuck out of this and never look back.


    Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that didn''t reek of betrayal and blood.


    Of course, there was still ''Her'' to deal with.


    The Lady of Time and ''Her'' crew.


    He owed them, and Malik was sure that debt wasn''t something small.


    It never was with Gods, was it?


    Especially when it came to the Sultan of the Sands¡ªor the True Sultan, as the zealots here screamed his name.


    ''...Gods never help for free.''


    His thought was bitter, causing a wry smirk to show on his face.


    No one did. Or¡­ almost no one.


    Malik would''ve sworn by that once, before his first death.


    But now? Now, things weren''t so ck and white.


    Because Malik knew Malik. He knew himself.


    In any case, he didn''t want anything to do with these people anymore.


    Not revenge, not closure¡ªnothing.


    His past self?


    Oh, he''d have jumped at the chance.


    But this version of him?


    The one stitched together from memories, regrets, and shards of a man he once wasn''t?


    He couldn''t do it.


    Because he didn''t just hate them.


    He loved them, too. And that was the cruelest part of it all.


    Yet that wasn''t the only reason Malik couldn''t bring himself to act.


    For one, he realized something chilling¡ªthe people in this hall, this entire, weren''t just some randoms from another world.


    No. They were from his world, his universe.


    And he had heard of them before.


    Almost everyone did.


    Every Magi on this was an Irregr¡ªa child of the True Sultan. A ckeye.


    The term was meant as a slur, a mocking jab at those born with natural Aether Cores instead of relying on the mechanical ones.


    A reminder of their supposed "difference."


    The universe had hunted their kind for centuries. Still did, as far as Malik knew.


    He didn''t have all the answers¡ªno one of his status really did.


    But he''d heard of the stories.


    It had something to do with their corruption.


    Their power. Their dominance back in the Third Epoch.


    Back in the Age of Endless Chaos, when the Ten Ancient ns waged wars across the stars.


    Najmat Al-Khulud was their Title. And they had once been the most formidable force in the universe.


    Now?


    They were nothing but whispers, forced into hiding, their glory days long gone.


    Malik never believed he would interact with any of them.


    Yet here they were, right in front of him.


    Just how would those higher-ups react if they figured out the truth?


    The Irregrs weren''t just hiding out on some random, backwater rock in the unknown universe.


    They were sitting on a literal vent of Aether.


    Right, Aether wasn''t just some natural resource that magically appeared whenever the universe needed it.


    It had a source. A real source.


    ces like Al-Fawra¡ªthese abyssal holes that seemed bottomless¡ªweren''t just geological oddities.


    They were believed to be directly connected to the Forgotten Nexus in some way.


    A cosmic power source. A mystery. A legend.


    Naturally, a ce like this would eventually be discovered, and it was, many tens of times.


    But the word never got out.


    The Sultan of each era made sure that the secret stayed buried alongside the bodies of those who discovered it.


    Malik too had buried the truth numerous times in the past.


    Because if the world knew¡­ if they knew¡­


    Well, they didn''t. That was all that mattered.


    And neither did the''sizens themselves.


    Which again, wasn''t really all that surprising.


    ''Those dumb bastards wouldn''t know their enemy if they were standing right next to them, knife in hand.''


    With that thought, Malik''s gaze swept across the stunned faces beneath him.


    Looking at them now, there was something he still didn''t quite get.


    ''Why ckeyes, though?''

 Chapter 39 Dune Guardian

    Their eyes were so far from ck, barely any even had a dark-colored pupil.


    Was it because the blood of the True Sultan had diluted over generations?


    Was that it?


    ''Maybe.''


    But even if they were tenth-generation or younger, it didn''t matter.


    Their power¡ªoh, their power¡ªwas still ridiculous.


    Even watered down, even diminished, these Magi were leagues beyond the Celestials he''d known before his first death.


    Any of them could probably wipe the floor with a Celestial of a higher sub-rank.


    The difference was that great.


    And that wasn''t the only difference.


    Here, all Magi followed one of three paths.


    There was Sahir, which he already knew as Spell Weaver.


    Then there was Kahin, which he''d heard called Arcanist.


    And finally, something he''d nevere across before:


    Dune Guardian¡ªor as the religious here called it, Sultan Al-Sahara.


    A path to bing the True Sultan.


    That was it. No long-ass lists. Just three paths.


    Though still a lot to take in, he couldn''t deny that it was simpler than the system his had adopted.


    That decrease inplexity was a Godsend.


    It made adapting to this world''s system easier.


    But that didn''t mean he liked it.


    No, if Malik had his way, he''d be in an even simpler world.


    One of those ridiculous ones where progression worked like this:


    Step one, eat some miracle pill.


    Step two, sit on your ass meditating for ten years.


    Step three, boom¡ªyou''ve gone from rank-twelve fuck-face to rank-ten face-fuck, still about a hundred ranks below the Golden Demonic Heavenly Dragon Body Star Emperor Ancestor God.


    And that was fine!


    You have the SSS rank Whatever System by your side. What more could you need?


    Besides, you''ve got, what, a few hundred lifespans to go before you need to worry about the real heavy hitters¡ªthose no-brained, rotting bastards who can kill you with a wave of their hand.


    Until then, you can casually wipe out some fuck-face n obsessed with your demise because you courted death by obliterating their buddies in the face-fuck n.


    All over some jade-like beauty childhood friend, no less.


    ssic. Simple. Fun... well, thatst one was arguable, but still, his point remained true.


    Either way. That wasn''t his life.


    Instead, Malik was stuck here, dealing with a system that was too damn borate for its own good.


    Now, it was HIS system, sure, but that didn''t mean he had to like it.


    ''...Whatever~.''


    Chuckling inwardly at the absurdity of his thoughts, he refocused on the people around him.


    He could still see tremors running through their bodies, a nervous shiver that refused to die.


    No doubt, they couldn''t help but rey that moment¡ªthe one where his body wreathed in golden mes.


    His eyes.


    They were the same as the ones they feared, the ones they revered.


    Such a sight made them lose the ability to think.


    Indeed, this was the birth of their Sultan.


    The projection wasn''t helping either.


    It remained frozen on a ck screen, the ''title drop'' sitting in the middle, almost mocking them with its casualness.


    A Holy Relic turned his life¡ªand theirs¡ªinto a story, making it feel like some dramatic show for its amusement, with them stuck as the main characters.


    They''d probably have gotten pissed if they could, but what would be the point?


    What good was getting emotional about a Holy Relic?


    What good was anger when you had no control?


    So, instead of snapping at the projection or each other, they broke free of their shock.


    It was slow, but eventually, almost the entire crowd began to talk with one another.


    "Look at his eyes. Safe to say, this is what truly kicked off his ascent."


    "Yeah, seems like he''s finally made up his mind."


    "Those dreams he spoke of earlier, especially for someone who was a beggar, seemed unrealistically high. But now? This? Mereparison would sully them."


    "Agreed, it''s admirable almost. If I had been a beggar like him since young, I doubt I''d have any goals except the next day''s meal."


    "No wonder he became the Sultan."


    The more emotional groups couldn''t get past hisst words, while those nearer to the projection were already picking apart the implications of what they''d just seen.


    "So... he already had an Aether Core?"


    "Guess it all makes sense now. How he survived all that."


    "Mhm. He wasn''t a mortal."


    "...You think his guardian had him do it?"


    "Looks like it."


    "That guy had to be something special. No way he was just some random nobody."


    "Yeah, it''s surprising he died."


    "The Sultan said that he buried someone ''once'' before. High chance it''s his guardian."


    "Yeah."


    Another group was more curious about the specifics.


    "When do you guys think he became a Magi?"


    "Has to be a few years by then."


    "Agreed... Everything the former Sultan said makes a lot more sense now."


    "Yep. He had to store his Aether somewhere."


    "Also exins that curse of his."


    "Right. Any kind of spell needs a core to work."


    Another was a group trying to find fault in anything he did.


    "Can you call that a fortuitous encounter?"


    "I mean¡­ if it is, it''s a pretty boring one."


    "Yeah, I don''t think anyone''s read that book since they were six."


    "No way he didn''t get er on. Cultivating thiste will bring mediocre results at most."


    "True, true."


    Malik listened to their quiet chatter.


    Everyone was trying to piece together the puzzle.


    Trying to make sense of a life they''d never truly understood.@@novelbin@@


    Well, actually, it wasn''t exactly everyone.


    Those with undying grudges were beyond ecstatic seeing Malik''s pitiful state.


    Even though they were supposed to be of the "heroic" coalition.


    And they, after holding back for so long, finally decided to join the growing crowd, sensing their chance to tear down his image.


    "Why the fuck are you guys praising him so much?!"


    "Remember who he really is!"


    "Sure, he might''ve been a great kid once, but look at him now!"


    "He''s a changed man! Forget whatever sob story you saw¡ªthis guy deserves death!"


    "Exactly! A Sultan who steps on millions of corpses to get to the throne? That''s not a Sultan; that''s a butcher!"

 Chapter 40 Each Their Own

    But they were quickly shut down:


    "Oh, shut up! What kind of Sultan doesn''t step on corpses?"


    "Yeah! You think we live in some fairy tale, you fucking idiots?!"


    Another nodded his head and pointed at a younger Magi¡ªthe one who started this little back and forth.


    "Seriously! I get that we need all the help we can get, but did we really need brats like him who are still wet behind the ears?"


    "I know right? This fucker is the one alwaysining about what the Sultan is doing."


    "Ha?!"


    The "brat" puffed out his chest, his eyes narrowing at the two.


    "I''ll have you know I''m the best talent in my guild! Sure, I''m only fifty, but I make up for it with actual strength, you old shit!"


    The older man bristled, his face going red.


    "The fuck did you just say, you little¡ª"


    But the young man wasn''t done, cutting him off:


    "And you!"


    He jabbed a finger toward one of the more sympathetic voices in the crowd.


    "If you want to praise him so much, why don''t you go die beside him, huh?!"


    Many of those around them gasped in response, the already high tension snapping.


    "Oh, now you''ve done it!"


    The insulted man rushed forward, veins bulging in his forehead as his Aether red up, crackling like lightning above him.


    But before he could get close enough to swing, a few Magi jumped in, grabbing at his arms to hold him back.


    "Is that right?!"


    The young man mocked him further, doubling down as if he had something to prove.


    "Come at me you rotting trash!"


    Yeah, he was really leaning into it.


    "Eat dirt."


    But before he could puff himself up any further, another guy came out of nowhere and mmed his face straight into the ground.


    "Stop you idiots!"


    Within seconds, more people piled in, dragging those three hotheads apart.


    The rest of the crowd, those that weren''t directly involved, went absolutely nuts¡ªyelling, shoving, and looking one bad insult away from throwing hands themselves.


    While all that happened, those at the front were much quieter.


    They looked at the projection with somber gazes, each for a different reason.


    Whether it was shame, regret, or just in grief, all shared one thing.


    Shock. Absolute shock.


    Huda looked the worst out of all of them.


    She was a wreck, crying so hard it felt like she might drown herself in her own tears.


    Her face was blotchy and red, her chest heaving with every shaky sob.


    And why wouldn''t she be?


    In thest few hours, she''d run her mouth more times than she could count, iming Malik would''ve abandoned them, not once, but twice.


    She was so sure. So confident. But guess what?


    The girl was dead wrong.


    He didn''t abandon them.


    Huda promised her uncle woulde through.


    That he''d swoop in and save the day.


    Or at the very least, throw Malik and Sinbad a Goddamn bone.


    But "noooooo~."


    Uncle didn''t save shit. He didn''t even try.


    All he did was make things worse, ruining what remained of Malik''s sane mind.


    The bastard didn''t just leave them to suffer¡ªhe straight-up kicked him like he was a bug!


    Huda had been wrong. Again.


    Minutes ago, she''dpletely fallen apart, and she hadn''t stopped since.


    Now, she was just this whimpering mess, hugging her legs so tight it looked like she might actually snap something.


    Her whole world had flipped upside down, and it showed.


    She could no longer look at the projection; it was just too much.


    Her head remained buried between her knees, trying to block it all out, but failing miserably.


    La and Safira weren''t doing much better, not by a long shot.


    Unlike the loudmouths in the back or the stone-faced crew next to them, those two still held onto something that no one else dared to admit out loud¡ªlove.


    They still loved the Sultan.


    Even after everything he''d done to both them and everyone else.


    Even after all the pain, all the chaos, all the "evil" he had unleashed.


    Every time they saw him suffer on that projection, it was like a piece of their hearts cracked, splintered, and broke off.


    Every wince, every blow, every look of despair on Malik''s face¡ªit hit them hard.


    And with every hit, a tear slipped down their cheeks, whether they wanted it to or not.


    But even then, they kept it together.


    Their backs were straight, fists clenched but barely.


    It wasn''t strength, not really¡ªit was desperation.


    If they were hurt now, what would happen to themter on, when it was their turn?


    They would fall apartpletely, and there''d be no putting the pieces back together.


    Noor''s mind, meanwhile, was a quiet storm.


    At first nce, she might''ve seemedpletely unaffected by everything she''d witnessed. Her face was calm, her body still, but anyone paying closer attention would''ve seen the truth in her hands.


    Her fingers were digging into the armrests of her throne, gripping so tight they were splintering the Aether-reinforced wood.


    It was obvious that she was holding back¡ªabout what exactly was unknown, but there was no need for that.


    The pressure she gave off said more than enough.


    If anyone dared to talk to her right now, they''d probably regret it instantly.


    Roya was ying a whole different gamepared to the rest of them.


    Sure, like Noor, she looked quiet¡ªHell, to anyone just ncing at her, she probably seemed bored.


    But inside?


    She was losing it, emotions bouncing all over the ce like one of them roulette machines in every other underground casino.@@novelbin@@


    And it wasn''t the bad kind of loss, but theplete opposite.


    Roya absolutely loved what was happening.


    Every second. Every revtion. Every raw, brutal scene.


    She couldn''t thank that Holy Relic enough for serving it up.


    Still, Roya wasn''t just there to sit back and enjoy the show.


    She had a brain, and unlike many in the hall, she wasn''t afraid to use it.


    Roya knew, or at least she thought that she knew of the Holy Relic''s capabilities.


    But now? The more that Holy Relic showed off, the more questions piled up in her head.


    And not small ones either¡ªbig, ufortable questions.


    Like, how was it doing all of this?

 Chapter 41 Another Beginning

    Every time the Holy Relic pulled a new trick out of its metaphorical hat, Roya''s confusion cranked up another notch, noticing how it forced them to participate in a bad soap opera.


    But she, being THE information broker¡ªcapital T, capital I, capital B¡ªwasn''t the type to sit back and twiddle her thumbs waiting for answers to just drop into herp.


    Oh no.


    The second that projection flickered into existence, she''d already sent one of her people sprinting off to Temr, the ones from whom she borrowed the Holy Relic.


    She didn''t care how that cut-off, holier-than-thou religious faction managed to get their hands on something as insane as a Ten Commandment¡ªthat was their problem, not hers.


    What she did care about?


    Why the Hell none of this was in the fine print when she borrowed it.


    ...''Borrowed.''


    Alright, so maybe it wasn''t a traditional loan.


    More like she acquired it through a strategic long-term leasing agreement.


    You know, the kind that involved an exchange of favors, veiled threats, and an unhealthy amount of side-eyeing.


    But whatever. Details.


    And surprise, surprise¡ªherckey came back with squat.


    [Lady Roya¡­ I''m sorry, but they said they didn''t know.]


    She slowly blinked, resisting the urge to groan.


    [So they''re not willing to tell us? You threaten them?]


    [Yes, my Lady. And no, they''re telling the truth.]


    Roya rolled her eyes so hard she nearly gave herself a headache.


    ''Of course they don''t know. Useless idiots.''


    She wanted to groan, but that''d give away how annoyed she was, so instead, she kept it together.


    With a flick of her wrist, she dismissed the woman, who slipped out of the hall like a shadow, unnoticed by everyone else too busy gawking at the projection.


    ''If they don''t know what else this thing does, then what?...''


    She began to twirl her very long blonde hair while her mind spun in a hundred directions.


    ''Is it safe to continue? And more importantly¡­''


    Roya looked back at the projection.


    ''Just how much more can it do?''


    The thought sent a chill down her spine¡ªa mix of excitement and unease.


    Her lips curled into a slow, dangerous grin.


    She couldn''t wait to find out.


    Azeem, meanwhile, sat with his legs crossed, his gaze glued to the projection, not thinking about anything beyond it.


    He wasn''t arguing, sobbing, or scheming like the others.


    He was just... there, staring, not moving an inch.@@novelbin@@


    The image of the Sultan¡ªno, his Sultan¡ªhad been torn apart and stitched back together more times than he could count in thest few hours.


    And every time it rebuilt itself, it was something different. Something new.


    The man he idolized, the man he hated, the man he respected, the man he feared, the man he once loved¡ªit was all one person, and that person wasn''t someone he knew.


    Disillusioned? Yeah, that was an understatement.


    But even that didn''t quite cover it.


    It wasn''t just about what Azeem had learned or what he thought he knew about the Sultan.


    No, this was more than that... more than what he could handle.


    Not from a man like him, not from his Sultan.


    But just as he was about to sink even deeper into the whirlpool of his own thoughts, a voice broke through the noise¡ªa single word louder than anything else in the room.


    "...Leaving."


    It was a barely-there sound, but it hit Azeem like nothing else.


    His eyes and everyone else''s that heard, darted to one woman.


    The Lady of Al-Sayf.


    Huda.


    The hall fell deathly silent, their previous thoughts, arguments, and fights dimming to nothing but an afterthought.


    All wanted to hear her again.


    Maybe they''d misheard. Surely they had.


    And Huda, choosing to be brave, granted their silent plea.


    "I''m sorry. But I can''t stay here anymore... Al-Sayf will withdraw from the coalition."


    The words hung in the air like a de poised to drop.


    But not for long, as Zafar broke the stunned quiet.


    "You can''t just leave. Not now... not when it''s over. It makes no difference to him."


    Huda''s eyes flicked to the "hero," her lips pressing into a thin line.


    "I can and I will."


    She began to move, but Zafar blocked her way.


    Her camp could''ve stopped him, but no one made a move.


    "You''re running away... Do you think walking out changes anything? That the Viin will magically undo what he''s done because you turned your back?"


    Huda let out augh, short and bitter.


    "I''m not running away. I''m only doing what I should''ve done since the beginning. La''s correct. Not one Magi under my g has the right to be in this hall today."


    Zafar was about to respond, but she shut him up with a re and continued:


    "And don''t twist this around. You want me to stay here for your benefit, not mine. But don''t worry. I''ll keep watching his memories until the guilt stops eating me alive, and I''ll hate him as much as I hate myself."


    "That''s not¡ª"


    Zafar started, but Huda cut him off again, taking a step forward.


    "I''m naive, maybe. But I''m not the dumb broad you think I am."


    She wasn''t shouting, but each wordnded with the force of a punch.


    And though she didn''t say it directly, it was obvious what her words meant.


    Huda could see through him. Quite clearly at that.


    "I-Is the coalition falling apart?"


    "Al-Sayf can''t just do that, can they?"


    "We need everyone; we can''t be¡ª"


    The hall buzzed with a ripple of murmurs, quickly silenced by her re.


    Azeem opened his mouth to speak, to berate her, but the look on her face stopped him.


    Not because he was scared, no, he wasn''t even sure that such a thing was possible.


    It was for her sake, for it seemed that another word sent her way might just ruin herpletely.


    Because it wasn''t just the pain or the guilt that had sent her to this point, but the brewing jealousy that she dared not acknowledge.


    It was obvious to anyone watching that Malik cared for Sinbad many times more than he cared for her.


    When they met, Malik honestly imed that he wouldn''t have saved them if not for her.


    Now?


    She was sure it was the other way around.


    Malik only kept her alive because she was Sinbad''s sister.


    Though that was an extremely pessimistic view, and not at all the truth, it still held some semnce of it.


    That was enough for her.


    Huda turned away, signaling to her camp to move.


    "Let''s go."


    The sound of steps echoed as they wordlessly followed.


    Not a soul rained on her parade, and no one wanted to¡ªexcept a certain disciple.


    Safira.


    "Coward."


    That one word hit harder than any that she dished out, but Huda didn''t react to it.


    She didn''t even slow her steps.


    Her silence, more deafening than any retort, was a statement in itself.


    Safira sneered, but she didn''t bother chasing after her or trying to get thest word in.


    She only stood there, watching as Huda and her camp disappeared through the grand doors.


    For the next few moments, no one dared moved.


    It wasn''t until Azeem let out a long, tired sigh that the crowd seemed to collectively remember how to breathe.


    But even as murmurs broke out and the hall came back to life, there was one question nobody voiced out loud¡ªyet it hung over them like a storm cloud:


    ''What now?''


    Only one person had the answer.


    Up above, still floating around, was Malik, watching the drama unfold below like it was the final act of one of his favorite ys.


    Then, as if he decided something, the faintest smirk tugged at his lips.


    "Bassor¨¡h."


    The word left his mouth like a quiet decree, his soul slipping seamlessly back into his body.


    Down below, the projection flickered, the glowing words twisting and shifting.


    A momentter, new bold text materialized on the screen, announcing another beginning:


    [Volume 2: For Whom The Bell Tolls.]

 Chapter 42 Jahannam

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik remained cross-legged in the cave, his body engulfed in golden mes that licked at him like hungry beasts.


    They devoured his robes first, leaving charred remnants that crumbled to ash.


    Then, they turned on his flesh, already battered and broken from seven¡ªnow edging into eight¡ªdays of relentless punishment.


    His ckened skin cracked like brittle stone, glowing veins of molten gold spilling through the fissures, spreading like rivers ofva.


    It should''ve been horrifying.


    It should''ve been agonizing.


    But he wasn''t screaming, wasn''t writhing¡ªhe wasn''t even flinching.


    His face didn''t betray a single flicker of pain.


    In fact, he looked... calm. Too calm.


    As if he was exactly where he was always meant to be.


    Home.


    Wherever ''home'' was.


    That didn''t mean the pain wasn''t there, however.


    Because oh, it was there.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall had collectively taken a step back when the memories resumed their showing.


    No one dared stand close to the projection, not wanting a repeat ofst time.


    Still, many were surprised and caught a few unintentional seconds in the Hell Malik was going through.


    They screamed like there was no tomorrow, embarrassing themselves before all.


    Those who managed to get away in time didn''t care for them, though, focusing more on Malik.


    "It starts just like that?! No buildup?"


    "No rest for the wicked."


    "This... this isn''t normal, right?"


    "No. I''ve never seen anyone go through that during an ascension."


    "That''s because no one has."


    A random muttered, crossing his arms:


    "It''s gotta be the heavy Aether in him. It''s messing with the process."


    "Ohhh, right!"


    Another snapped their fingers.


    "Didn''t the Former Sultan mention that?"


    "Hm. Too much unprocessed Aether in a Magi screws with¡ª"


    "Their Aspect. Their Divine Essence... Their bnce."


    "Neutral Aether fights the transformation. Makes it harder to stabilize."


    "So instead of a clean transition, it''s like..."


    "...like pulling a carriage uphill with no damn wheels."


    Azeem finished the crowd''s flowing words with a grimace.


    "He''s no human."


    Minutes ticked by in a blink, and eventually, the roaring mes that looked like they''d reduce Malik to ashes fizzled out.


    Everyone in the hall leaned forward, practically holding their breath.


    After all that, they were expecting a nightmare¡ªcrumbling flesh.


    A body barely holding itself together.


    But what they got was theplete opposite.


    Malik looked... fine. No, scratch that¡ªbetter than fine.


    His skin was smooth, glowing even, like he''d just walked out of some spa treatment.


    The sunken, malnourished look he''d had before? Gone.


    He wasn''t just alive; he looked like a whole new person.


    "That''s... weird, right?"


    "Yeah, incredibly weird."


    "Incredibly, incredibly weird."


    "Us Magi do kinda heal when Ascending but not to this degree... right?"


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Right.


    It wasn''t to that degree.


    But for Malik, none of this was weird.


    He knew exactly what had just happened, and it wasn''t just superficial.


    The Neutral Aether that had been stuck inside him, refusing to do anything useful, had finally flipped the script.


    It wasn''t dead weight anymore.


    It had transformed, reshaped itself into something he could actually use.


    And that was all thanks to one thing: the Aspect he''d chosen, a foundation for his path.


    That magical book he read hadid out three paths for him.


    A Divine Trinity.


    Three ways to turn his Aether into power.


    And each one came with its own fancy title and promises.


    {AN: Check out the ''Aether'' Auxiliary Chapter for all the details.}


    The first option?


    Sahir. A Weaver of spells.


    Sounded cool, right? Crafting spells from scratch based on whatever element he wanted.


    In another life, another timeline, maybe he would''ve chosen it.


    But unfortunately, he didn''t have time for that.


    Sahir was the kind of path that required months of foundational practice and careful study to get anywhere.@@novelbin@@


    And Malik? He didn''t have months. Hell, he didn''t have hours.


    The second option?


    Kahin. Author of runes, both ancient and modern.


    This one was even more useless for him right now.


    Its early abilities were all subtle, slow burns¡ªstuff that wouldn''t help him survive his next fight.


    Sure, it would''ve been extremely powerful eventually, but Malik didn''t have "eventually."


    So yeah, option three it was.


    A specialization that the book had oh-so-dramatically called:


    Sultan Al-Sahara.


    And honestly? It wasn''t even a tough call.


    Sultan Al-Sahara was all about immediate strength.


    Pre-pathed abilities, no need to reinvent the wheel, just survival tools right out of the gate.


    Exactly what he needed.


    Now, sitting there, looking like he''d just walked out of the desert as its undisputed ruler, Malik could feel it.


    The Neutral Aether wasn''t just energy anymore¡ªit had been reforged, and with it, so had he.


    This wasn''t just a transformation.


    This was his rebirth.


    "...Crowned Sun."


    At those words, Malik slowly opened his eyes and looked at his arms.


    His hands clenched into fists, feeling a power coursing through him that was unlike anything he''d ever known.


    It was as if he was in a totally different body.


    Everything just felt foreign, especially the physical strength.


    But that wasn''t the most important thing on his mind right now.


    No, Malik''s thoughts went back to everything he''d just learned.


    Aether. Or, well, Flow of the Untainted, Sea of Life, Divine Ichor, Rukh Al-Noor.


    All these titles were for the same energy that was everywhere.


    Of course, it wasn''t just some random force; it was a part of the universe, wrapping the cosmos in its invisible grasp.


    As one of its sources, Malik''s new home had Aether in everything.


    Here, it was in the air, in the ground, in the water¡ªin both life and death, in light and darkness, in the divine, and in the cursed.


    But the thing that really made him stop and think was the way Aether worked.


    As anyone could''ve figured out by name alone, the natural form of Aether was called Neutral Aether, the raw stuff.


    Just like iron ore needed to be processed before it could be used to build something, Neutral Aether needed to be... transformed, converted, into something usable.


    An Aspect was the furnace that melted the ore, and the Core was the container that stored the iron.


    This container was a fist-sized organ that sat to the heart''s right.


    It had a direct link to the nervous system, letting the Magi control the flow of Aether, sending it where it needed to go.


    That, in turn, wove Abilities into existence.


    Those abilities formed the foundation of an Aspect, the building blocks of a furnace.


    And those Aspects connected to the Soul to create something deeper¡ªDivine Essence.


    Malik wasn''t some generic Dune Guardian with the same old Divine Essence as everyone else.


    No, his Essence was unique, just like the rest of his journey.


    He could feel it in his bones, and it wasn''t just some random title either.


    His soul had whispered it to him, like a secret only he could hear.


    "...Jahannam."

 Chapter 43 Path Of Fire & Blood

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The projection flickered, showing Malik standing tall, a new aura around him.


    Everyone in the room was watching closely, but it was clear they were all a little lost.


    "...What does that mean?"


    Another of the younger guild members quickly followed up:


    "Not everyone here knows the oldnguage... someone wanna exin?"


    The hall shifted, most of the crowd looking for an answer.


    Azeem stood up, letting out a quiet sigh as he turned to face them, his gold obnoxiously jingling.


    "Alright, alright, as you''ve heard, his Divine Essence is called Jahannam."


    Seeing as none of the elders bothered exining, he decided to be the one who''d clear this up.


    "In the old tongue¡ªit means Hell. Yeah, Hell. The same one we know. A ce of torment, fire, suffering."


    He paused a little to let that sink in.


    "...It''s a ce where you get broken down to nothing, only to rise again. Reborn in a way."


    Azeem kept going, his tone a little more tense now.


    "The Sultan''s been through his own Hell¡ªliterally. But it isn''t just about the suffering; it''s also about burning away everything that isn''t strong enough to survive. It''s why he became the way he is."


    He looked back at the projection.


    "The fire... it changes you."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    It felt like it shouldn''t make sense, at least notpletely; something was off, paradoxical.


    But to Malik, it was perfect.


    Jahannam.


    That name¡ªit was him.


    Fire. Pain. Power.


    Every internal scar, every death, every agonizing blink¡ªit was all there, burning in the me.


    This was his soul, untamed, bright, and fierce.


    And he liked it.


    Not just a little, either.


    To the point that a smile nearly made it on his face.


    Yet, before it could, the sting of Sinbad''s death came back.


    His "little brother."


    That pain was fresh, and his heart never once stopped aching from it.


    The golden fire burning inside him felt right, sure.


    But it wasn''t enough.


    It could never fill the void Sinbad''s death left behind.


    "Heh¡­"


    Malik chuckled bitterly, shaking his head.


    It''d take years¡ªor maybe even longer¡ªto get back to anything resembling normal.


    Not that Malik believed that was even possible anymore.


    His ''normal,'' whatever it may be, felt like a foreign concept now.


    Sighing his lungs out, his eyes drifted across the cave and fell on the book he''d tossed earlier.@@novelbin@@


    He went and picked it up, flipping it open.


    The damn thing had been a lifesaver, literally, and now it was just a shell.


    Its title had faded to nothing, and the pages were nk.


    But Malik had learned not to trust first impressions.


    And sure enough, when he got to thest page, he found what appeared to be Rafiq''s notes.


    His fucking notes...


    "Snake bastard."


    The notes weren''t just some random scribblings; they were information.


    Maps, locations, secret shit Rafiq had kept for himself.


    It was all about the First Layer, the kind of information Malik needed.


    The map Rafiq had jotted down was rough, but it was enough to make sense of theyout.


    First thing Malik noticed was the section he was in¡ªAlthawul.


    As he had already assumed, this section of the firstyer followed a pattern.


    A simple pattern at that.


    The four seasons. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter.


    What made it not so obvious was that summer would periodically take over a different season other than its own.


    It made sense considering how hot the was.


    Each reset urred at midnight, exactly on the dot.


    If he wanted to get out of there, he needed to waste not a moment on rxing.


    To the southeast was the Manara Al-Badiyah, or the Lighthouse of the Dawn.


    Malik''s eyes narrowed at the name.


    He was still not used to that big thing.


    A lighthouse, out here in the middle of nowhere.


    It was tall, sitting like a lone finger pointing at the sky, marking something important.


    One of the only structures still standing in this Godforsakenyer, and judging by Rafiq''s notes, it was where most fire-aligned monsters were spotted.


    ''...It''s where I gotta go next.''


    That section had a few ''exit points'' that Malik assumed to be areas that allowed them to go back out Al-Fawra.


    He didn''t know why only a few areas were highlighted exactly, but he was sure there was a reason for it.


    ''Hm...?''


    Something caught his attention far north of where he was, past the river.


    Ghabeh.


    Some fantastical mushroom forest¡ªyes, a whole forest made up of towering mushrooms.


    The drawings showed them to be as massive as the trees around him.


    Apparently, this was a "beginner zone."


    The safe area for noobs like him when they first entered the First Layer.


    "Those fuckers..."


    Malik''s hand tightened on the edge of the journal as he stared at the mark for the camp, rage bubbling up in his chest.


    That was where Rafiq''s group was holed up, using one of the mushrooms as shelter.


    Eating, sleeping,ughing. While their man had done¡ª


    Malik mmed the journal shut, cutting off the thought before it could spiral.


    He didn''t need to picture it again.


    "I don''t know how long it''d take me..."


    He looked outside the cave, his eyes directed towards the river behind the hills.


    "But I''ll end all your sorry lives."


    His eyes glowed a bright gold.


    Malik would burn the entirety of the firstyer down if he had to.


    Althawul, the mushroom forest, the lighthouse, everything.


    "I swear it."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "There we go."


    "It begins."


    "Indeed it does..."


    A variation of those words rippled through the crowd.


    Before, they''d seen him change¡ªseen shes of the Sultan they knew.


    But now? Now it was more than just that.


    Malik began walking the path of blood, something which, to their knowledge, he hadn''t walked before that point in time.


    It was aplete change of mentality.


    Still, none of those watching were dumb enough to think this meant smooth sailing for him.


    Not by a long shot.


    But what they did know was that whatever came next... Malik wouldn''t apologize for it.


    He''d suffer, sure. But he wouldn''t cry. He wouldn''t beg. He wouldn''t fear.


    Malik would simply act.


    And he''d keep walking his path of fire and blood.

 Chapter 44 Althawul

    Though his change was incredible, the Malik inside the projection barely scratched the surface of power.


    Nadhir Al-Noor¡ªthe Bringer of Light.


    The name sounded grand, but in reality, it was the weakest of the weak.


    ss-Five, first subrank.@@novelbin@@


    Malik couldn''t even intimidate a stray canine.


    If he wanted to end Rafiq''s little gang without dying in the process, he needed to climb the Divine Hierarchy¡ªfast.


    Not once, but twice.


    First, he had to be Nadhir Al-Faris, the Guide of the Rukh.


    That''d give him enough muscle tofortably take on the Ahools in the cave, but it still wouldn''t be enough.


    His goal was Nadhir Al-Saif, the Sword of Guidance¡ªthe peak of the fifth major rank.


    That''s when he''d stop being just a throwaway name on someone''s hit list and start being an actual threat.


    But getting there wasn''t exactly a walk in the park.


    There were four ways to rank up, each with its pros, cons, and "bullshit" hurdles.


    {Cultivation.}


    The "sit and meditate" route.


    Draw in Aether, refine it, release it, and repeat until you feel something.


    Sure, it worked, but Malik didn''t have the patience for that.


    He needed results yesterday, not after tens of years of staying holed up in that cave.


    {Battle.}


    Straightforward: fight and grow stronger.


    But here in Althawul, most of the monsters would either swallow him whole or slice him in half. Killing him before he even raised his newly owned shamshir.


    {Embodiment.}


    This one was weird, at least to him.


    Basically, Malik had to be his specialization.


    As a Sultan Al-Sahara, he''d need to live and act like a Sultan¡ªwhatever that meant.


    Boss people around? Walk around like he owned the ce?


    Honestly, it was too vague, and he didn''t have time to experiment.


    Not to mention, he wasn''t in the mood to y pretend while Rafiq''s crew was still out there.


    {Aether Core Absorption}


    Now this? This was Malik''s ticket.


    The idea was simple: find a core, absorb its Aether, and rank up.


    Easy, right? Not really. There were a couple of major roadblocks.


    Malik''s Divine Essence, Jahannam, was tied to the Fire element.


    So, he needed Aether Cores from fire-aligned monsters.


    Not exactlymon in Althawul, which was why he nned to visit the lighthouse.


    Now, there were two ways to absorb a core.


    First, the safe way: sit next to the core and slowly draw its Aether over the years.


    It was steady, efficient, and waste-free.


    The problem? It took forever.


    The second method?


    Swallow the damn thing whole and hope your Aether Core doesn''t implode.


    It was risky as Hell¡ªmost people who tried it ended up dead or permanently crippled.


    But if it worked, the payoff was massive.


    It''d be like skipping years of cultivation in one insane burst of power.


    Malik didn''t consider himself lucky. He was cursed, in and simple.


    But he had one ace up his sleeve:


    Return By Death.


    If the worst happened and his core exploded?


    Well, he''d just get sent back to his "checkpoint" whenever it may be, and try again until he got it right.


    Still, that was a problem for the future Malik.


    Right now, he didn''t even have an Aether Core to absorb.


    No point stressing over it until he found the right one.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    With that thought, Malik flipped open Rafiq''s journal again, his eyes locking onto the map.


    Onest look¡ªhe needed to memorize every detail, every mark, down to thest scratch.


    "Alright¡­ How do I get out of Althawul?"


    It didn''t take him long to trace a path, his mind piecing it together step by step.


    After a moment, he closed the journal and nced outside the cave.


    "First, the Lighthouse. Then¡­ them."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Guess this really is it..."


    "Yeah. The Sultan isn''t a kid anymore."


    The random whispers of half-formed thoughts died as quickly as they started.


    No one really knew what to say, just repeating the same thing over and over.


    Because, really, what was there to say?


    They all knew it¡ªthe kind boy was gone.


    What stood in his ce was a man burning with a single purpose.


    Revenge.


    And for now, they were content just watching.


    Watching the mes that were no longer just fire but something... more.


    They were curious to see what he''d do with it.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Time blinked ahead, and Malik could be seen walking down the hill, appearing to have just finished saying hisst goodbyes to Sinbad.


    He wasn''t half-naked anymore, now decked out in expensive-looking clothes¡ªa random mishmash of pieces like he''d raided a wardrobe blindfolded.


    Somehow, though, he made it work, even if the fit was a little loose on his lean frame.


    Maybe it was his now undeniably handsome features doing the heavy lifting, making everything he wore look effortlessly good.


    Because indeed, it was not the apparel that proims the man, but the man who maketh the clothes.


    The dumb might wonder where he got the outfit, but it was pretty obvious.


    Especially when you noticed the slightly tattered belt holding his shamshir, or the cloth-wrapped gourd at his side, asionally dripping a trickle of water.


    The Ahools.


    These clothes were the remnants of what Malik so graciously titled "delicacies."


    For all he knew, he could''ve been wearing something that once belonged to Rafiq, but that didn''t matter anymore.


    Not now.


    He had revenge to fulfill.


    Crunch... Crunch...


    Malik''s new boots crushed the dry grass with each step, his pace steady but cautious.


    He had no idea how far the lighthouse actually was.


    The Shams had risen outside Al-Fawra, and its light had yet to shift an inch since he''d started walking.


    Time here was slippery, hard to track, and it messed with his head.


    Malik shook the thoughts away and forced himself to focus.


    "If this ce is alive, it''s probably enjoying the fact that I''m lost."


    His grip on his shamshir tightened, and he pressed on.


    ...


    Without warning, the air shifted.


    It was cooler now, the ground growing darker beneath his feet.


    Midnight was near.


    But then, just like that¡ªas if time had blinked¡ªit...


    ''Holy shit.''


    Happened.

 Chapter 45 Green Patch

    Ahead, below, to his left, and to his right¡ªeverything had shifted.


    The t ins that once stretched endlessly were gone, reced by a vast sea of dunes.


    They rose and fell like frozen waves, towering high enough to block any distantndmark.


    During and after that change, Malik''s feet had yet to pause.


    He just kept walking as if detached from the world, weaving between the dunes.


    His eyes, meanwhile, stayed fixed on the general direction of the lighthouse.


    It was his only constant in this ce¡ªa pinprick of light promising salvation... Or maybe death.


    He didn''t care which.


    As long as it led him to them.


    The bastards who ''killed'' Sinbad.


    "Ugh¡ª!"


    A bolt of pain echoed deep in his mind.


    Thinking about Sinbad hurt too much.


    ''...Damn it.''


    The sound of hisughter, the way he''d trail behind like a cute little chick¡ªalways smiling, always talking about the dumbest of things.


    Gone.


    All of it.


    Because of them.


    ''Damn it all...''


    With that thought, he clenched his fists and forced the memories down.


    He couldn''t afford distractions, not here.


    Especially not now.


    The next day arrived and with it came the scorching heat.


    Malik could handle the cold¡ªhe''d gotten used to it in the cave, and nighttime above wasn''t much different.


    But this heat was something else entirely.


    It had been bad enough on the streets of Zawaya, but out here, it was turned up tenfold.


    And it didn''t let up¡ªnot once, not a flicker.


    Time really felt like a joke down here, one that Malik wasn''tughing at.


    But then, as if to further reinforce his thoughts, it blinked, just like earlier.


    Day turned to night in what seemed to be an instant, and with it came the dreaded moment.@@novelbin@@


    "...Midnight''s here."


    Though Malik had no watch of any kind, he knew when it arrived.


    He felt it in his bones¡ªthe creeping tension in the air that made his skin crawl.


    Thud-thud-thud!


    It hit, but not as smooth asst time.


    The ground beneath him rumbled, the horizon shimmered, and the darkness beyond the sky rushed at him in an instant.


    Or rather, he was rushing toward it.


    Malik stumbled but quickly caught himself, his hand going to his shamshir on pure instinct.


    Not that it would do much against whatever the Hell was happening right now.


    When the shaking finally stopped, the world hadpletely changed.


    The dunes were gone.


    In their ce, jagged mountains shot up like broken teeth, towering into the darkness.


    "Damn¡ªright on top of a mountain? Really?!"


    He let go of the hilt and adjusted his belt, scanning the area for another route.


    Unfortunately, there was nowhere to go but up.


    Though, at least the lighthouse was visible now, peeking through the craggy peaks.


    A weak constion, but one nheless.


    "Fuck it... I''ll y."


    The climb was brutal.


    Every step felt like a battle, his boots slipping on loose rocks, his hands raw from grabbing at jagged edges.


    The air grew colder the higher he went, thinner too, each breath barely worth the effort.


    Hours¡ªor maybe minutes, who could tell¡ªpassed, and Malik finally reached the top of a ridge.


    He copsed onto his back, arms spread out, chest heaving as he stared up at the ck, starless sky.


    And then, like a tease from the universe, the first lights of the Shams broke through.


    Warm. Golden. Annoyingly hopeful.


    "...Day ten."


    It didn''t hang around for long.


    With a grunt, Malik rolled to his side and forced himself back up.


    The light dipped behind him as if it knew better than to follow.


    And then, just like that, the world shifted again.


    The jagged mountains fell away in chunks, like someone smashing a fragile y model.


    In their ce? A never-ending sea of snow, blinding white and stretching into forever.


    Malikughed dryly, the sound bitter.


    "I''ll get there..."


    His steps crunched against the frozen ground, his silhouette slowly swallowed by the frost.


    "Somehow."


    That word marked the beginning of another distortion.


    Time seemed to warp, moving at ten times its normal pace.


    Every night brought a newndscape, a new obstacle to face.


    Frozen tundras, dense forests, wet swamps.


    He adapted, relying on his wits and whatever scraps of energy he could still muster.


    His gourd was nearly empty, but even that didn''t seem to slow him down.


    And yet... invulnerable was one thing that he was not.


    One day, the shifts seeded in messing with his head.


    Malik began to see Sinbad¡ªnot just shes from his memories, but full-blown illusions.


    He''d walk ahead of him,ughing like they were just strolling through a park.


    "Stop it... You''re not real."


    But of course, they didn''t stop.


    Sometimes, the illusions felt like a mercy¡ªa rare, fleeting gift of normalcy.


    Sinbad''sugh, the way he''d roll his eyes when Malik said something stupid, the warmth of his presence¡ªit all felt so real.


    Other times, they twisted, bing cruel¡ªdistorted echoes of his final moments.


    To keep himself from drowning in those nightmares, Malik had his nails dig into his palm.


    Pain was his anchor, his tether to reality¡ªa habit he was way too familiar with by now.


    A ''slight'' bit more than he''d like.


    "Focus. They''re waiting for you at the end. Keep moving."


    Weeks passed¡ªthe endless shifts blurring together, an ever-changingndscape.


    Morning, nights, how many times he''d nearly died.


    He lost track of all that was.


    It was all the same shade of dull.


    Until suddenly... it wasn''t.


    Hope.


    Just there, right ahead of him.


    A color so impossibly vibrant it nearly malfunctioned his brain.


    In the middle of this Godforsaken frozen wastnd, surrounded by a sea of white...


    "That''s..."


    Was a patch of green.


    It stood out more than the lighthouse itself.


    "That''s it..."


    His heart mmed in his chest.


    "My way out."


    Malik ran, pushing himself harder than he''d ever thought possible.


    He no longer felt the pain in his legs, the hunger gnawing at him, or the fog in his mind.


    His body was screaming for him to stop: rest, eat, drink, copse, die, die, die, anything.


    Malik wasn''t listening.


    Midnight loomed, the world holding its breath, waiting for the shift.


    "...Almost there!"


    With every desperate stride, the patch of green grew closer, but so did the tremors beneath him.


    His vision started to tunnel, his muscles beyond shot, but he kept pushing, refusing to stop.


    Step after step after step after step after step.


    Tick after tick after tick after tick.


    Breath after breath after breath.


    "RAAAH!"


    With onest, desperate burst of energy, he threw himself forward, no different than a lion.


    Behind him, the world began to change, starting from the edge.


    ck!


    The edge of his foot clipped something solid, a rising hill of green.


    It spun him around, sending his back copsing onto the soft grass.


    His chest heaved from the impact, lungs scraping for air, every breath a battle.


    While he neared death, the rest of the frozen wastnd did the opposite.


    It melted away into something new, something alive.


    And for the first time in what felt like forever...


    "Haaaah..."


    He didn''t care.


    He wasn''t in survival mode.


    Malik had made it.


    He justy there, eyes staring at the dark sky, a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders.


    It felt like a dream, too surreal to be real.


    "...Heh."


    And then, out of nowhere, heughed.


    "Hahahahaha."


    Not augh of joy¡ªnothing that simple.


    It wasn''t exactly pleasant.


    Augh of an injured victory.


    A sound scraped from the bottom of his soul.


    "Yeah¡­"


    For the first time in so long, he could finally stop running.


    "I''m still alive."


    Even if just for a moment.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall now had little activity within its chambers.


    Those near the projection were entirely quiet, ''each their own.''


    Most of the crowd, meanwhile, was still reeling from what they''d just seen.


    "...Man''s got more heart than most of us."


    A voice chimed in at the beautiful scene disyed before them.


    "He didn''t stop. Not once. That''s wild, man. People don''t fight like that. Especially when they''re so damn tired. Gotta give respect."


    "I''d''ve died in that snow after the first shift. No way I''m dealing with that crazy shit."


    Augh echoed from the back of the hall.


    "Right? The Sultan''s like a rock, man. You break him, but most of him still stays together. Comes back even stronger."


    "I can''t even imagine what was going through his head back then."


    "Those hallucinations, eh...?"


    "But hey, he still made it out."


    "Yeah, but for how long? At one point he''ll get help. There''s no way otherwise."


    A new voice piped up, almost concerned.


    "Thatstugh... It wasn''t theugh of someone who won. It wasn''t relief, either."


    "He''s been through Hell and back multiple times..."


    Some random replied confidently, acting like he had Malik all figured out.


    "I don''t think he remembers what winning is."


    To his right, a woman shook her head.


    "No... I think... I think it was just him realizing that surviving isn''t the same as winning."


    A few people nodded, some still unsure, others getting it, rejecting it.


    It was like Malik opened some crazy door no one was ready to walk through yet.


    The atmosphere in the hall shifted again, the crowd quieter now, reflective.


    There was room for argument, yet no one spoke out of line.


    That shit was real.


    More real than anything they''ve seen in ages.


    Something none of them could deny, no matter how dumb they might be.

 Chapter 46 The Hunt

    Malik didn''t move for a while, just staring nkly at the world around him.


    The lighthouse was closer now, but still far off in the distance, its light unchanging.


    He let out an exacerbated sigh.


    "...Even more walking."


    The air was warming up, a sign that the Shams was rising.


    It made him feel drowsy, his eyelids heavy.


    Though he''d been taking naps every other day, whenever he could, it still was never enough.


    His mind felt foggier than ever, and his body moved with such dy that it felt like his brain was protesting everymand.


    For a moment, he almost convinced himself to stay still¡ªjust for a little longer.


    Maybe it wouldn''t hurt.


    But then, he saw it¡ªhim.


    Sinbad.


    Sitting across from him, legs crossed, a goofy grin stered across his face.


    "You should rest; you need it~."


    Malik froze, his chest tightening painfully.


    For a second, just a second, he almost let himself believe it.


    Almost. But he quickly snapped out of it.


    "Thanks... but I don''t need it. Fuck off."


    Like a bad projection, the illusion flickered and faded into the air.


    Malik wiped the sweat off his forehead and rubbed his eyes.


    "Get a grip. No time for ghosts."


    He couldn''t afford to lose it now, not when he was so close.


    With a deep breath, he forced himself to his feet, his legs trembling but steady enough.


    "Just a little longer. It''ll all be worth it."


    After ncing at Althawul for the final time, he started walking.


    The trek through the forest was slow but steady, with no dangers of note, just tiny critters that ran away at the sight of him.


    Malik kept his eyes on the lighthouse, using it as his anchor, his north star.


    And as the hours stretched on, the Shams had fully risen, but it was of no issue to him.


    The shade from the massive trees around him was a relief from its harsh heat.


    Somewhat of a small blessing at this point.


    But that didn''t mean that his condition was perfect.


    The increase in humidity reminded him of his dehydration, and his constantly growling stomach grew in volume, reminding him of just how long it had been since he''d eaten anything substantial.


    Thankfully, he wasn''t so unlucky as to not find anything that could quell his hunger.


    His constant scanning of the trees had finally borne fruit. Literally, in a sense.


    He spotted a cluster of them hanging from a low branch.


    They looked ripe enough, so he picked a few, sinking his teeth into the juicy flesh.


    The taste was sharp and sweet, nothing like what they had back in Althawul.


    It was like his body instantly woke up from a long, painful sleep, no longer on the verge of copse.


    On his way, he took a little detour, following a few critters, and found a small stream not far from his main route, its crystal-clear water flowing gently over smooth stones.


    Malik drank deeply, the cool water soothing his parched throat.


    Once full, he filled up his gourd and allowed himself to rx.


    He found himself a tree, leaned against it, and closed his eyes.


    The sound of the stream, the rustle of leaves in the breeze¡ªit was peaceful.


    "...The kids would''ve loved this... they really would have."


    But, unfortunately for his tired mind, this wasn''t the time for peace.


    Malik got to his feet with a groan, brushing dirt off his pants before resuming his journey.


    By the time he emerged from the forest, the sky was painted in hues of orange and pink.


    Now, the lighthouse was finally close enough for him to make out its details.


    The thing was colossal, perched on a lone hill surrounded by barren, cracked earth.


    Its surface was worn and weathered, marked by deep grooves and patches of moss clinging to its sides.


    His steps faltered as he beheld its magnificence.


    He just stared at it, the exhaustion in his body giving way to something else.


    Was it relief? Hope? Maybe. Or maybe it was just the weight of finally being here, of seeing it after everything he''d dragged himself through.


    "It''s beautiful, isn''t it?"


    Ignoring the familiar voice, Malik entered the area cautiously, every muscle in his body tense.


    He kept low, his ears straining for the telltale crackle of mes.


    His curse had taught him one thing¡ªeverything in the Maw wanted him dead.


    And the monsters here certainly weren''t any different.


    Hours passed. Maybe more. Then, finally, he saw one of them.


    A faint glow, like embers floating on the breeze.


    Malik crouched behind a ridge, narrowing his gaze.


    There it was, effortlessly darting between the trees.


    Rafiq''s journal mentioned their kind.


    Ifrit Al''Qird, or Qird in short.


    ''Looks like one of those weird circus monkeys they mess around with in those caravan shows.''


    His thoughts were spot on¡ªit was a monkey.


    Well, more like a gori-sized nightmare on fire, but that was indeed its kin''s origin.


    His eyes stayed locked on the thing as he started trailing it.


    No way he was wasting time looking for another one of these bastards.


    Up close, it was even bigger than he''d thought, radiating enough heat to make his skin prickle.


    It was like standing too close to a bonfire, except the fire had bulging muscles and could probably rip him in half.


    But he didn''t care.


    Monsters like this¡ªFaryad rank¡ªwere his one ticket for revenge, for a life beyond.


    Kill one, and he''d snag an Aether Core.


    Maybe even two if the universe decided to throw him a bone for once.


    Right, they had a cap of two cores, making this ming monkey his best¡ªHell, his only shot right now.


    Eventually, the beast stopped near a pile of charred, ckened rocks.


    Its glowing eyes darted around before it crouched and started digging.


    Momentster, it yanked out a set of burned-up bones and went to town, gnawing on them with teeth sharp enough to form sparks.


    Malik''s first instinct was to attack while it was distracted, but he stopped himself.


    Rushing in blindly was a good way to get roasted alive.


    No, he needed to know more.


    y it smart. Figure it out.


    Watch where it went, what it did, how it hunted, how it lived... How to kill it.


    Patience wasn''t his strong suit, but if it meant survival? Malik could wait.


    So, he kept to the shadows, tracking the Qird for days, stuck with it like a bad habit.


    It wasn''t easy; the thing was quick, its red glow flickering through the forest, mimicking some sort of cursedntern.


    One second it was there, the next it was gone, leaving him scrambling to pick up its trail.


    But Malik never panicked.


    He took his own pace, learned its rhythms, the little quirks that made it predictable.


    By mid-afternoon, it always settled into a nap.


    Every day, without fail, it climbed into the same gnarled, ckened tree at the base of the lighthouse''s hill.@@novelbin@@


    The branches were twisted, the bark scorched¡ªno doubt from its fiery body roasting the wood over and over.


    At night, the Qird turned into a demon on caffeine.


    It darted through the area, hunting anything unlucky enough to cross its path.


    The prey?


    Weird scuttling things with way too many legs and creepy eyes, creatures he didn''t have names for.


    The second it caught one, its mes roared up, incinerating the poor thing in seconds.


    No chewing. Just straight to the ash phase. Rubbing the ck on its skin.


    And it wasn''t always a solo act.


    Sometimes other Qirds popped up, their bodies zing with that same fire.


    But these weren''t social calls.


    Malik''s Qird wasn''t about sharing its turf.


    The second they got too close, it went full psycho, screeching and hurling fireballs until they backed off.


    Malik filed all this away like he was writing a survival guide for lunatics: when it ate, what it ate, where it hunted, the paths it took through the forest.


    Every detail was a potential weapon for when the time came.


    He even found out the fiery bastard wasn''t without kin.


    It had a little family¡ªa pair of smaller monkeys with mes that weren''t as blinding.


    They''d pop up during the day, sticking close to the charred tree and mimicking the big one''s moves like they were in some ming monkey boot camp.


    Watching them stirred something weird and ufortable in his chest, but he shoved it down hard.


    Feelings? For those things? No, not happening.


    He couldn''t let himself go soft for some monsters.


    Even if they had some semnce of intelligence.


    A hunter was most vulnerable if they held any degree of captivation towards their prey.


    Piece by piece, the n started falling into ce.


    Malik mentally mapped out the Qird''s territory, every nook and cranny he could duck into, every path that could get him out if things went sideways.


    He tracked its schedule down to thest dot¡ªwhen it woke, when it went hunting, when it conked out.


    And one thing stood out to him throughout all of that.


    The Qird''s mes raged like a living inferno at night, but during the day, under the punishing heat of the Shams, it wasn''t quite as invincible.


    Its mes dulled, its energy dipped, and it was likely why it slept heavy in the tree''s twisted branches.


    That brought Malik to a decision:


    ''That''s when I''ll make my move.''

 Chapter 47 Bad Guy

    The next day was blistering like any other, and something somewhere within Malik''s twisted brain had found thatforting.


    His time had arrived.


    Standing at the base of the scorched tree, he held up his shamshir, pointing it to the sky.


    His de was the only thing that stood between him and salvation or fiery death.


    Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes, but he didn''t dare move to wipe it.


    Every ounce of his focus was on the Qird above him.


    It was sprawledzily across the branch,pletely exposed, vulnerable.


    Its mes were reduced to faint, flickering embers.


    And its little fire spawns? Nowhere in sight.


    Probably off learning how to burn something else alive.


    Everything was lined up perfectly.


    This was it¡ªthe moment he''d been waiting for.


    Days spent tailing this ming terror, learning every quirk and habit, were about to pay off.


    Or they weren''t, and he''d get roasted alive, forced to repeat his hunt. No big deal.


    ''Let''s just do this...''


    Malik adjusted his stance, shifting his weight, every movement painstakingly slow.


    The starlight caught the edge of his de as he raised it further up.


    It hovered just below the branch, aimed perfectly for its mark.


    Now, he was no different than a coiled spring ready to explode into action.


    Malik took a final breath, his world narrowing to a single point.


    His muscles tensed, and then, with all the strength he could muster...


    Whoosh!


    He drove it upward in one clean, decisive thrust, piercing fur and fire.


    It went deep, cutting through its muscle, but still, it seemed far from enough.


    "KEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEIK!"


    Qird screeched, a high-pitched cry that echoed across the forest.


    Malik winced from the sound but didn''t let up, yanking his de out and stabbing again with all his strength.


    This time though, the de hit even deeper. Too deep.


    It was lodged in its ming body, stuck in bone or something equally unyielding.


    Before he could adjust, the Qird twisted, its body writhing in pain.


    Then, with a burst of mes, it kicked itself off the tree, dragging the de with it.


    "Fuck..."


    Malik cursed under his breath, watching as it tumbled to the ground.


    It hit the dirt hard but didn''t stop, frantically scrambling to its feet as it tried to run away.


    "Oh no, you don''t."


    pping his hands together, Malik shut his eyes tight and focused.


    In his mind, he imagined awork of glowing lines, a web that mapped out the path his Aether needed to follow.


    It was the only ability Rafiq''s dusty book had taught him.


    His Aether Core¡ªa tiny, pulsating point of light buried deep behind his sternum, right next to his heart¡ªstirred to life.


    Hemanded it, willed it to follow the Pathing he''did out in his head.


    The Aether rushed upward, moving like molten fire through the central artery.


    It then split to both his shoulders, branching out to the subvian arteries, before shooting down his arms, splitting into smaller vessels along his forearms.


    Finally, it reached his hands, pooling at his fingertips, ready to ignite.


    Malik clenched his fists, feeling the Aether coiling, and whispered the words that came from somewhere deeper than memory¡ªstraight from his soul:


    "Ember''s Touch... Scorched Grace."


    Golden mes erupted around his hands, charring his forearms ck.


    Unlike before, the fire didn''t burn his entire body¡ªit embraced only his arms, licking at the rest without leaving a single mark.


    But damn, it was hot, rivaling that of the Qird.


    Kiek!


    Feeling his heat, it turned as it realized escape wasn''t on the table anymore.


    Its glowing eyes locked onto him, and it charged, mes ring brighter like never before.


    "KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"


    "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"


    Malik roared back, charging forward to meet it head-on.


    The Qird lunged, both hands swinging down, aiming straight for his chest.


    Malik ducked, the ws slicing through the air just inches above his head.


    Mimicking a squat, his legs pushed back up, mming his body into the creature.


    "FALL!"


    The force of the collision sent both of them crashing to the ground, a loud impact that kicked up a cloud of dust and ash.


    "Ugh..."


    Malik felt the mes bite into his skin, the searing pain spreading across his arms and chest.


    But he didn''t let go, didn''t even flinch.


    His hands, still wreathed in golden fire, mped around the monkey''s neck, squeezing tight.


    The Qird thrashed beneath him, wing at everything.


    Malik could see it clearly now¡ªthe primal will to survive burning in its gaze.


    But ''will'' was nothing in this world.


    His grip tightened, his own fire consuming its.


    Then, with a final, brutal twist, he snapped its neck.


    The creature went limp, the fire in its eyes extinguished, literally.


    Malik stayed there for a moment, breathing heavily, his hands still around its neck.


    The heat faded, leaving only the scent of charred fur and blood in the air.


    ''Huh, I actually pulled it off... thought it''d be harder. Guess all that scouting was overkill.''


    Kieek... kieeek...


    Not even a secondter, he heard it¡ªtwo faint, muffled cries from the left.


    ''Ah... I should''ve just stayed quiet.''


    His head snapped up, his body tensing as he turned to look.


    There, just beyond the charred tree, stood two smaller Qirds.


    Their mes were dimmer, their bodies smaller, but their features were the same.


    "Damn it."


    Malik let go of the Qird''s body and rose to his feet, yanking his de free from its flesh.


    The red-hot metal hissed as it met the cooler air, its hilt nearing its melting point.


    It was ming, to say the least, though thankfully he saw no issue in that.


    The smaller Qirds didn''t move, their tiny bodies trembling as they stared at him.


    He sighed, raising his de and pointing it at them.


    "Go."


    They didn''t move.


    They just kept staring, their small, glowing eyes filled with hatred.


    He sighed again, deeper this time, and stepped forward.


    That was all it took.


    The little Qirds let out soft cries and turned, scampering off into the forest.


    Their mes flickered as they disappeared into the distance, leaving Malik alone with the body of their parent.


    "Great..."


    He ran a hand through his hair.


    "Now I''m the bad guy¡ª"


    "You are, though~."


    Malik nced to his right.


    ...Sinbad.


    Clicking his tongue, he looked away and knelt down beside the corpse.


    "Whatever."


    His hands were steady as he began, the de making quick work of the tough, charred skin.


    He pulled it back to reveal the glowing red Aether Core nestled within.


    It pulsed faintly, warm to the touch as he pried it free.


    Malik held it up, turning it in his hand as he examined it.


    The core was beautiful, its light dancing like liquid fire.


    "Perfect."


    He stuffed it into his belt, wiping his hands on his pants as he stood.


    Then, he scanned the area, his eyesnding on a dark spot in the distance¡ªa cave.


    "That''ll do."


    It was a ce perfect for his cultivation.


    He trudged toward it, and as soon as he passed the entrance...


    "Haaaahh..."


    Malik let go of his tough facade and dropped to the ground.


    Slowly, he leaned back against the cool stone wall, letting it take some of the weight off.


    His chest rose and fell, every breath a reminder of how much his body hated him right now.


    And his eyes slipped shut as the weight of the past few days finally caught up to him.


    The red Aether Core pulsed faintly in his belt, its warmth just enough to lull him into afortable sleep.


    It wasn''t just a trophy¡ªit was proof.


    Proof of what he''d done and all the crap that stilly ahead.


    Malik''s lips twitched into a tired, bitter smile.@@novelbin@@


    "One step closer."


    With that, and the sound of the wind howling outside, he let himself rest.

 Chapter 48 Live. Absorb. Die. Repeat.

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "The Sultan seems to have always had talent inbat."


    "Was this the ''hidden skill'' the Former Sultan mentioned?"


    "Sure looks like it."


    "But I think it''s tied to something bigger than just skill."


    "Maybe. Or maybe it''s just that¡ªskill¡ªbut not the full scope of it."


    "He hasn''t shown us everything, that''s for sure."


    "True. But what if it''s more about his understanding speed?"


    "Mhm. The fact that he activated Ember''s Touch on his first try says a lot."


    "Even with a Grimoire guiding him, that''s unheard of."


    "Even our most talented youngsters, the ones raised in cultivation, haven''t achieved that."


    Though the projection didn''t pause, skipping to the next day, the crowd continued to converse between themselves.


    It was clear that their earlier tense mood had been relieved¡ªslightly.


    Or more likely this was just a collective attempt to forcefully move past what they''d seen, unwilling or unable to confront it fully.


    Their beliefs, their mental states, and their fragile coalition standing demanded a certain level of denial.


    "He''s still kind, though..."


    One of the crowdmented, almost reluctantly.


    "He had to know those Qirds woulde back for revenge if he let them go..."


    "But he still did it."


    "Was Sinbad''s death not the thing that broke him?"


    "No, it did. Though whether his mind has already begun to fix itself, or if it''s just dying the inevitable copse... we can''t say for sure."


    "It takes time to process something like that. And with those hallucinations... He''s got a long road ahead of him."


    "Indeed."


    Listening quietly, Safira nodded to herself.


    She didn''t need the crowd''s spections to remind her of the Malik she once knew.


    She remembered their first meeting as if it had happened yesterday.


    He was different then¡ªquiet, yes, guarded, of course¡ªbut there had been warmth.


    Humor, even.


    Malik wasn''t this hollow shell of a man she saw before Sinbad''s grave.


    And yet... change hade so suddenly.


    Barely a day after their meeting, his smile disappeared.


    His personality did nearly a one-eighty-degree flip.


    Did she or Jasmine do something? Was it not only Huda that broke him?


    Have they contributed to his ruin as well?


    That possibility haunted her... and unlike the "coward" that left, she wanted to know.


    ''Malik... Tell me... what happened?''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik sat cross-legged in the damp cave, the faint glow of the Qird''s Aether Core in his hand.


    The thing pulsed like a heartbeat, almost as if it weremunicating with him.


    He couldn''t help but stare at it, a cocktail of fear and anticipation brewing in his chest.


    This was it¡ªhis ticket to Al-Saif.


    No waiting around for years to leech power out of it like some timid novice.


    No, he wasn''t about to y it safe.


    Malik was going all in or would die trying.


    Though, if he were being honest with himself, he was sure it''d be thetter.


    "Alright..."


    Malik rolled his shoulders as if preparing for a fistfight.


    "...Jahannam, don''t let me down."


    Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, then shoved the Aether Core into his own.


    Instantly, his body jerked as his core¡ªhis Divine Essence¡ªreacted.


    It pulsed, almost like it knew what he wanted, and he shivered.


    Aether rushed into him, warm at first,forting.


    But as he pulled more, that warmth turned to fire, searing and white-hot.


    His whole body felt tight, like it was too small for the energy surging through him.


    It was.


    But he kept at it.


    He had to do it.


    More.


    More. More.


    He needed more!


    ''MORE!''


    Aether surged, so strong it almost knocked him out then and there.


    But still, he didn''t stop.


    Malik NEEDED this.


    The Aether was addictive, feeding a hunger that had gnawed at him for years.


    He could feel it filling every inch of him, overflowing, the heat turning into a scorching pain that made his skin feel like it was splitting apart.


    The cave exploded with light, the Aether Core shining so bright, like a second Shams.


    It was too much, maybe, but he shoved that thought aside.


    But then, all of a sudden... something shifted.


    Something that proved his previous thought right.


    A sharp pain shot through his chest, making him gasp.


    His core felt like it was tearing apart.


    And worst of all, the Aether wasn''t stopping.


    It kepting, wild and too much, simply out of control.


    He tried to pull the core away, but it was stuck to his chest.


    Deeming it a lost cause, he focused on the inside instead of using what little remained of his strength.


    Malik tried to push it back, to contain it, to stop it, but it was like trying to hold back an avnche with his bare hands.


    The Core on his chest fractured, lines crawling across its surface.


    "Ha¡ªha¡ªha..."


    He couldn''t breathe; his chest felt like it was splitting open, and the pain¡ª


    WHHHHIIIINNNNEEEEEE!


    But before he could even process that, a sudden sound resounded.


    Like a machine straining against an impossible load, it intensified in a second and reached a fever pitch.


    This, ording to Rafiq''s book, was a major sign of an Aether core implosion.


    Both the birth of an Anomaly and its destruction in one horrifying sequence.


    It all went down way fast. Too fast.


    First, a blinding light swallowed him whole, making the world disappear.


    Then, just between his chest and the core, a tiny Aether vortex took shape, instantly pulling all the ambient Aether in the area like it was some insatiable ck hole.


    The ground shook, and he heard the splintering of rock as cracks split across the cave.


    Everything copsed inward,pacting into a single, terrifying point.


    An anomaly was born¡ªa living catastrophe, moments from going nuclear.


    This caused a deafening silence to fall upon the world.


    Not a single sound.


    And then...


    Crack¡ªBOOOOOOM!


    Destruction.


    It imploded, unleashing absolute energy.


    Everything, everywhere¡ªall at once, in an instant too quick toprehend.


    And in that fleeting, final moment, Malik knew.


    Death had imed him.


    Just like that.


    It was over.


    Blink.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    While Malik couldn''t grasp the exact details of what had urred in those final moments, the ones watching saw everything with horrifying rity.


    After his Aether core imploded, his body contorted unnaturally, twisting into itself as if forced by invisible hands.


    mes didn''t just burn him; they devoured him from the inside, an inferno of Aether tearing him apart.


    It was absolute.


    Total. Complete. Utter annihtion.


    Then nothing.


    The world blinked, his existence snuffed out like a candle in a storm, erased.


    Such a sight brought many a feeling of disgust... repulsion.@@novelbin@@


    Stomachs turned, some straight-up puked, others just froze, while many just stared at the spot where Malik used to be.


    What they saw was beyond insane, sure, but it wasn''t the most surprising.


    ...Malik knew.


    He knew his luck. He knew that this was going to be the end of him.


    Knew it was going to tear him apart, making him feel pain like never before, and still...


    He went ahead with it.


    The thought hit everyone, resulting in one single, unanimous conclusion:


    ''He''s not human.''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Haaah¡ª!"


    Malik gasped awake like he''d just surfaced from drowning.


    He shot upright, clutching at his chest, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst.


    Wide, frantic eyes darted around the dim space, searching for... something?


    ''...A Cave.''


    The sight of the stone walls surrounding him brought relief for just a moment before an unstoppable feeling of frustration reced it.


    "Goddammit!"


    He mmed his fist into the rocky ground.


    Though he knew that seeding on the first attempt was impossible, a part of him, somewhere deep down, truly hoped for that.


    Malik had hoped.


    Hoped that maybe he was different.


    Hoped that he was stronger, faster, more talented than the rest.


    Hoped that he''d rise above the odds, like some kind of destined hero.


    But no.


    Reality had other ns, ripping apart his naive aspirations, stomping on them without mercy, and throwing them to the hounds.


    A cruel world, indeed.


    Yet it wasn''t entirely unforgiving.


    His "checkpoint" had been updated.


    If his slightly rested body was any indication, it had been forwarded to when he slept in the cave.


    Of course, the core was still there, sitting a few feet away, pulsing like nothing had happened.


    Malik stared at it for a moment, then sighed, rolling his shoulders.


    "Alright... round two."


    He sat in a lotus position.


    No rest, no time to waste.


    If this was his life now, he wasn''t going to spend it whining.


    He picked it up and shoved the core in again, this time bracing himself.


    And yet... nothing changed¡ªthe whine, the heat, the implosion. Death.


    Blink.


    Rather, it was arguably worse.


    Malik didn''t evenst half as long asst time.


    He groaned, slumping against the wall as his frustration resurfaced.


    "Damn you... stupid thing..."


    He red at the core, wanting to punch the shit out of it.


    But he''d only hurt himself, so he stopped.


    Besides, there was no turning back now.


    "Round three..."


    Malik brought the core to his chest and tried again.


    Blink.


    And again.


    Blink.


    And again.


    Blink.


    The cycle repeated endlessly.


    Every failure brought a new explosion, a new round of pain.


    His core would whine, protest, and then shatter, taking him with it.


    Each time, he''d wake up gasping, the taste of ash in his mouth, the core sitting there like some smug little devil.


    He''d live. Absorb. Die. Repeat.


    And there seemed to be no end to that in sight.

 Chapter 49 Victory

    Malik dragged a hand down his face as his patience wore thinner than thread.


    This had to be the thousandth try. Or at least close enough.


    "What a fucking joke."


    Time had lost all meaning.


    Days, weeks, months, years.


    The cave became his prison, the Aether Core his merciless tormentor.


    He tried everything: slowing his breathing, focusing his thoughts, whispering desperate prayers, cursing the True Sultan, and even some other gods he made up on the spot.


    Nothing...


    Just nothing worked.


    Every time, the sequence was practically the same.


    The whining hum. The burning heat. The implosion.


    Another Blink. Another reset.


    Back to nothing. Back to square one.


    And yet, it wasn''t all bad amidst the endless loop.


    It was ''practically'' the same. Practically.


    Because in truth, with every death, he learned a little more, gained another sliver of understanding.


    The parameters, the point of no return, the ways to keep his damn core stable¡ªMalik had pieced it all together like a crappy white-colored puzzle with missing edges.


    At times, it held out a fraction longer.


    Barely noticeable at first, but undeniable as the loops stacked.


    The core''s pulsing had a rhythm, a pattern, tiny signals just before things went south.


    When it was on the verge of rejection.


    Usually, by the time he noticed, it was already game over.


    But every now and then, if he reacted just right¡ªfocused his Aether at the tips of his fingers¡ªhe could dy the inevitable.


    Dy. Not stop.


    It wasn''t winning, not by a long shot. But it was progress.


    Agonizingly slow, tear-your-hair-out kind of progress.


    Eventually, the silence of the cave drove him nuts, so he started keeping track.


    Not of the days¡ªhe''d lost sense of that ages ago.


    He counted attempts.


    By the time he hit four digits, he''d memorized every detail of the process: the hum of the core, the way the Aether flowed, the exact millisecond his Essence would rebel.


    He adapted. Adjusted. Tweaked. Refined.@@novelbin@@


    "Total attempt: three thousand, six hundred seventy-two."


    Malik sounded bored out of his mind, his golden eyes dull, lifeless.


    "Increment increase: zero point zero zero six seconds. Local fail: one-oh-two."


    He sat cross-legged with the core bnced in his palms, throwing it from one to the other.


    It was still as bright as ever, but its color had faded in his eyes¡ªjust like everything else around him.


    The world felt drained like someone had cranked the saturation slider way down.


    Though somehow, that wasn''t something that he noticed.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    But that didn''t mean those watching the projection didn''t.


    It was pretty hard to miss, and they weren''t about to stay quiet about it.


    "Am I going blind, or does the world inside look... different now?"


    "It''s not just you. The color''s fading."


    "Not just the color. It''s everything. The shadows, the textures, even the way the light moves."


    "It''s all... duller."


    A weird hush fell over the room as everyone considered the implications.


    "The saturation''s tied to him..."


    Someone finally said.


    "To his soul. His... his will to live¡ª"


    "He''s still alive."


    Safira flinched, not realizing she was defending Malik until she heard her own words.


    They were more for herself than anyone else.


    It was what she most hoped to be true.


    But La rejected her hope:


    "No. He''s not. Not really."


    All eyes turned to her.


    "Look at him."


    Her tone was way colder than before, knowing that what she was about to say was going to sting¡ªtwice as much for herself.


    "His body moves, his heart beats, but everything else? It''s gone. He''s..."


    She hesitated, struggling to find the right way to say it.


    "...He''s a ghost. Alive in the most technical sense, but dead in every way that matters."


    "..."


    "..."


    "...Heh... ha hahaha!"


    A nervousugh broke the tension, surprisinglying from Azeem.


    "That''s a bit too dramatic, don''t you think? He''s still fighting, pushing. That''s not what a dead man does."


    "No."


    La''s sharp eyes never left the projection.


    "That''s exactly what a dead man does. He fights because he has nothing left. No fear of loss, no sense of self-preservation¡ªjust... stubbornness. It''s all he has now."


    The projection flickered, showing Malik''s death, his body twisting, burning, imploding.


    Then it reset, and he sat cross-legged in the cave like nothing had happened.


    "He doesn''t even flinch anymore."


    Someone couldn''t help but murmur, interrupting La, but she didn''t mind.


    Rather, she answered their unspoken question, using it to hit her point home:


    "Because he''s numb... You saw how he looked at the core just now, like it was nothing. No hatred, no fear, not even frustration. Just... apathy."


    Noor, who had been quietly observing from her floating throne, nodded.


    "It''s the grind. It wears you down, strips you bare. Until there''s nothing left but the motions."


    "But... why?"


    Safira asked, trembling.


    "Why keep going if he''s already... if he''s like that? Is avenging Huda really that important?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The room went quiet.


    No one seemed to want to answer, or maybe they just didn''t know how to.


    Especially not Zafar, as he began to notice the jealousy in her tone.


    "Because he doesn''t know how to stop."


    Though La was an exception.


    It was she who knew him best.


    "Stopping means giving up. And giving up... would mean admitting he''s already dead."


    As her words hung in the air, the mood shifted from simple horror and shock to something moreplicated, making the hall feel heavier.


    While the earlier spectacle of Malik''s suffering had churned stomachs, left some pale-faced, and others puking, the sheer grind of his efforts now inspired something akin to morbid awe.


    Blink.


    The projection flickered again, showing Malik cradling the core like he did Sinbad''s dead body.


    His lips moved, muttering something under his breath, but his voice was too quiet to hear.


    "Is he... is he talking to himself, or is it the same old?"


    "Can''t say."


    "That''s survival. Or at least, what''s left of it."


    "Total attempt counts. Increment increases. Local fails. These are too."


    "Yeah, but for what, though? He''s not making any real progress."


    "Not true. Were you sleeping at attempt 6174? He held the core stable after its warning for almost a second longer."


    "A second? Sure, let''s hand him a trophy for that."


    "Stop hating, dumbass. You could never do this in a million years."


    "Sultan''s gone full-on mad scientist."


    "Mad something, that''s for sure. But can you me him? I''d have snapped thousands before attempt number..."


    The projection flickered.


    "What is it now?"


    "Seven thousand one hundred six."


    A scoff came from the back.


    "Real inspirational. Except it''s obviously useless. Sultan''s mind went hollow."


    "Maybe... Maybe he is hollow. But a hollow man doesn''t keep going. He doesn''t grind himself to dust for a fraction of progress. He''d have quit after the first hundred resets. But the Sultan? He''s..."


    The bearded man trailed off, struggling to find the words.


    "Determined?"


    Someone suggested, and he shook his head.


    "No. That''s putting it lightly. This''s all just..."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik caught the core mid-toss, staring at it with a look that could only be described as jaded.


    He pressed the core to his chest and took a deep breath, centering himself like some wannabe monk.


    The whine started. Louder this time.


    His core pushed back, fighting him with everything it had, but Malik didn''t flinch.


    He just locked his focus in, forcing the Aether to flow evenly, ignoring the searing pain tearing through his body.


    The pressure kept building and building, like a ticking bomb inside him.


    Then¡ªBOOM.


    Death. Blink.


    ...


    "Attempt¡­ something something, ten, whatever."


    He muttered right after ''waking up.''


    Again.


    His face was nk, his tone devoid of emotion.


    It was just another number now.


    Time?


    Who knew how long it had been.


    Years? Decade? Century?


    No clue anymore.


    He''d lost track of how many times he''d died.


    Cared not about anything but the next damn try.


    Same cave.


    Same fucking routine.


    Same cycle of life and death.


    Just... Over... And over... And over.


    But he never stopped.


    It wasn''t in the cards for him.


    Not then, not now, not ever.


    Like his escape from the vers...


    His fall to Al-Fawra...


    His fight for survival...


    His broken crawl to the cave...


    His eptance of Sinbad''s death, the goodbye of Huda...


    His begging, humiliation that defied anything he''d gone through...


    His burying hands, tucking away what he couldn''t save...


    His journey outside Althawul...


    His hunt of the Qird...


    Malik could NOT stop.


    Not when he was this close.


    And then... finally... FINALLY, after what he could guess to be another ten or so years of attempts¡ªhis soul-crushingly monotonous routine had a new addition.


    "Attempt¡­ something something something, twelve, whatever."


    Malik held the core to his chest, his hands trembling.


    He was astronomically beyond exhaustion¡ªno, that wasn''t even close.


    His mind felt like it had been ground down to the atoms themselves.


    Yet, somehow, some insane part of him kept going.


    Because determination? That wasn''t enough.


    It was just a cute little thing that didn''t mean squat when against this self-inflicted nightmare.


    To make it this far? It wasn''t about willpower.


    No.


    This was something way more.


    It was about pure, unhinged insanity.


    The kind of madness that burned logic to ash and stomped all over reason


    Or at least whatever ''reason'' had remained¡ªwhich, at this point, wasn''t much.


    Thankfully, though, Malik still had just enough scraps of brainpower left to notice this ''new addition.''


    It wasn''t rocket science. It was stupidly simple. Only mechanically tough.


    He started pulling Aether in tiny, timed increments¡ªten milliseconds at first, then twelve after every fourth pull.


    And soon enough, the familiar whine began again, but this time...


    ''Whoa.''


    This time it was different.


    It wasn''t as high-pitched, not as strained.


    The pressure built, but it didn''t copse like it always had.


    It stabilized. Permanently.


    The Aether flowed smoothly, filling his core. No resistance, no feedback.


    It was like he was finally in sync with it.


    Malik''s eyes widened in disbelief.


    He could feel it¡ªpower surging through him, the heat of the Qird''s very essence merging with his own.


    His body burned, but it wasn''t painful.


    It was exhrating.


    This... this was something else.


    "Holy¡­"


    His voice was trembling.


    "I did it."


    Finally, the core dissolved into his chest, its Aether settling within him like it belonged there all along.


    Malik''s body shook¡ªtrembled from something new, something foreign.


    Not pain. Not exhaustion.


    For the first time in what felt like centuries, he was shaking from sheer, overwhelming relief.


    He slumped back against the cave wall, feeling a weight being lifted off his shoulders.


    After God knows how many deaths...


    "I actually did it."


    Of a time he spent struggling...


    "I really did."


    Of a time he spent grinding himself to dust...


    He had finally done it.


    Malik had seeded.


    "Finally..."


    He let out a shaky breath, lifting his right arm.


    His fist clenched tight, golden mes bursting out like they had a mind of their own.


    Strength tore through him like a river breaking free.


    And then, he let it all out.


    Every ounce of rage, relief, frustration, and triumph he''d been bottling up.


    "I FUCKING DID IT!"


    The very earth beneath him began to shake.


    For just one brief, fleeting second, Malik let himself feel it.


    ...Victory.


    He let himself feel victory.

 Chapter 50 Little Science Experiment

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "So? What do we think? Fluke or genius?"


    Noor was the first to speak, her voice low but sharp enough to be heard by all in the hall.


    Azeem snorted, arms crossed over his chest.


    "What I think is we''ve just watched a madman figure out cheats to some game nobody''s even supposed to beat."


    Noor''s lips twitched at his demeanor, but her eyes stayed locked on the projection, where Malik was still slumped against the cave wall, breathing like he''d just run ten marathons back-to-back.


    "Cheats, huh? Sure, but let''s not pretend that''s all there is to it."


    Azeem raised an eyebrow.


    "What''s that supposed to mean?"


    She turned to him, her floating throne dipping slightly as she leaned forward.


    "I mean, how do we know it''s real? That he''s cracked the code and not just¡­ stumbled into a win because he''s too stubborn to die properly?"


    His brows knitted together.


    "You''re saying it might''ve been luck? Him?"


    "I''m saying it''s worth testing."


    Noor''s eyes slid to the man''s left,nding on Roya.


    "And lucky for us, we''ve got someone with resources to spare."


    Roya, who''d been quietly thinking things over, looked up like she''d just been called out in the middle of ss.


    "Me? What?"


    "You heard me."


    Noor gesturedzily toward the projection.


    "Send one of your people to an enclosed space. Give them an Aether core, run the timing Malik figured out, and see if they don''t blow themselves to bits."


    Roya blinked, then scoffed.


    "Oh, sure, let me just grab a volunteer for your little science experiment. You want me to put up a flyer, too?"


    Azeem chuckled, shaking his head.


    "C''mon, Lady Roya. Don''t act like you don''t have someone expendable lying around."


    Roya shot him a withering look.


    "You''re so charming. Really. But even if I did¡ªand I''m not saying I do¡ªhow exactly am I supposed to replicate that?"


    She jabbed a finger toward the projection, where Malik''s ragged breathing had finally started to even out.


    "The Sultan''s been at this for God knows how long. You think one of my people can just... what? Copy-paste his process?"


    Noor''s eyes narrowed.


    "You''ve got the tech. The timing''s in your head. All we need is someone with decent Aether control and a willingness to¡­ take a risk."


    "A willingness to die, you mean."


    Roya shot back, and Azeem waved a hand dismissively.


    "Details. Point is, if Malik''s method works, it could change everything. Imagine if absorbing Aether cores bes repeatable. Controble. You''d be sitting on a goldmine."


    Roya tilted her head, considering.


    "And if it doesn''t?"


    "Then you''ve lost one person."


    Noor answered bluntly.


    "Small price to pay for the kind of goldmine we''re talking about."


    "..."


    Roya''s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes flicking back to the projection.


    Malik was sitting up now, his hand glowing faintly as he tested the Aether''s flow through his body.


    There was no denying the power radiating off him¡ªor the insane cost it had taken to get there.


    "Fine... I''ll find someone. But if he blows up, I''m sending you the bill for the funeral."


    A faint smile curled Noor''s lips.


    "Deal."


    "Great!"


    Azeem pped his hands together.


    "Now, when do we start? Because I''m not waiting another decade to see if my Sultan cracked the code or just gotten really, really, really lucky."


    Roya sighed, already regretting her decision.


    "You two better hope this works."


    Noor''s smile widened, her gaze drifting back to the projection.


    "Oh, don''t worry. I have a feeling that it will."@@novelbin@@


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik stayed in that cave for weeks, letting the power settle, consolidating it, working it into every corner of his being.


    And man, could he feel it¡ªthat constant shifts in his body, adjusting to the power of his core.


    It was rewriting him from the ground up.


    Years of growth packed into just days.


    His face sharpened, his body filled out, and by the end of it, he looked like he was pushing twenty.


    His golden hair grew longer, matching the speed of his growth, now falling past his neck, messy but undeniably fitting.


    His clothes actually fit now, hugging his frame like he''d walked into a tailor and ordered something custom.


    Not that he cared much about appearances, but hey, it was a nice bonus.


    The real game-changer was the fire.


    What used to feel like juggling dynamite now felt natural, like breathing.


    Jahannam''s mes responded instantly as if they''d been waiting for this version of him.


    Now, he was the fire, and the fire was him.


    Only a flick of his will was needed to turn his hands into molten weapons, ready to melt through anything¡ªor anyone¡ªin his way.


    But this wasn''t all.


    His strength? Ridiculous.


    Well, at least whenpared to mortal standards.


    Before, carrying anything heavier than his sword made him think twice.


    Now? He could shatter boulders if he felt like it.


    Not that he''d waste time showing off.


    His reflexes were many times better.


    He could swat a fly out of the air with his eyes closed.


    Even his senses got an upgrade.


    The cave sounds, the shifts in the wind outside, the faintest vibrations in the earth¡ªit was like someone cranked the world''s volume up just for him.


    If the world hadn''t grown so dull, he might''ve even noticed an upgrade in his vision.


    And if Rafiq had been standing in front of him now, Malik wouldn''t have broken a sweat.


    He''d see every moveing a mile away, and the fight would''ve been over before it started.


    Because his speed? That too had consequently upgraded.


    The guy who used to trip over his own feet was gone.


    This new Malik could runps around his old self,ughing the whole time.


    It was wild, this transformation. Incredible.


    But he wasn''t stupid.


    Sure, he''d reached Nadhir Al-Saif¡ªthe so-called "Sword of Guidance" rank¡ªskipping Al-Faris, but really, all he''d done was step through the front door.


    He wasn''t lounging in its halls or kicking back in its inner sanctum.


    No, he was standing at the entrance, almost half-naked, clutching his shiny new shamshir like a clueless kid ying sultan.


    Compared to the real veterans?

 Chapter 51 Royal Style

    The Magi who''d been grinding for decades, stacking experience and honing skills until they were walking arsenals?


    Malik was just a baby with a sparkler.


    His foundation was shaky, barely there.


    They had years of refined fighting styles and multiple abilities under their belts¡ªthree at least, maybe more.


    Arts that were probably so intricate they''d make his head spin.


    Malik? He had fire and a de. That was it.


    Not exactly a bnced loadout.


    And yet¡­ he wasn''t sweating it too much.


    If there was one thing he''d learned, one lesson Sinbad''s death had drilled into him, it was this:


    Power alone doesn''t always win fights¡ªstrategy does.


    Knowing when to strike, when to hang back, how to read an opponent, their traps, and how to make them think they''ve got you just to flip the script?


    That was the real edge.


    Power was just the icing on the veryrge cake.


    Besides, his targets weren''t exactly top-tier Magi.


    If Rafiq was any indication, many of them were most likely dormant.


    They weren''t sitting around with years of training and tens of abilities, either.


    They were scumbags, low-tier opportunists with inted egos and a handful of dirty tricks. Malik knew their type. After all, he lived with a bunch of them.


    He was sure he could take them on if they were caught unawares.


    Still, he wasn''t about to get cocky.


    Even cockroaches could bite if one didn''t pay attention.


    So Malik stayed sharp. Spending a few more days in the cave.


    Again, he spent all that time cultivating his power.


    It wasn''t morous¡ªjust hours and hours of sitting there, pushing his core, learning how far he could stretch it without burning out. Literally.


    He built his stamina and controlled his mes until they felt like an extension of his body.


    More or less consolidating all that he was.


    By the time he stepped outside, he was ready.


    The sunlight hit hard, momentarily blinding him.


    After weeks in the shadows, it felt more alien thanforting.


    It was even worse now that his senses were more sensitive.


    Still, Malik adjusted quick. That was his thing, after all¡ªadapting.


    He stretched, feeling the warmth seep into his skin.


    His stomach gave a low, discontented growl, and he sighed.


    The Aether in his body made food and water a "sometimes" thing now, but he still needed a little of both here and there.


    Guess he wasn''t skipping breakfast today.


    "Time to hunt."


    Malik scanned the area, eyes locking onto a cluster of trees in the distance.


    There had to be something there¡ªgame, fruit, something he could eat.


    He rolled his shoulders, adjusted his de, and started walking.


    Eeek! Eeek! Eeek eeek!


    But then came the noise.


    His head snapped toward the sound.


    "Not now..."


    The world seemed to have other ns, not caring for his schedule.


    Malik barely had time to draw his de before they appeared.


    Two of them, their fiery bodies crackling with Aether.


    Malik recognized the Qirds, but these weren''t the tiny, squeaky pests he''d seen months ago. No, these were teenagers now¡ªlean, muscr, and a whole lot more vtile.


    Eeek eek!


    The Qirds didn''t waste time.


    No preamble, no buildup. They just rushed forward.


    One came at him from the left, mes trailing behind it like aet.@@novelbin@@


    It was closing in fast, a second or two from reaching him, but Malik didn''t budge.


    He raised his shamshir, holding the hilt steady just in front of his chest, the de angled to cover his face.


    His other hand rested on his lower back, loose.


    His whole stance screamed calm, looking like a royal in a duel.


    Malik waited, watching the Qird close in, its fiery ws inches away.


    Then, just as it pounced, he shifted.


    A simple sidestep.


    The Qird missed, swiping at empty air, and hit the ground hard.


    Malik didn''t waste a second.


    His sword shed in a clean arc, slicing through its legs.


    Shink!


    The creature screeched, copsing in a heap.


    It wasn''t dead, but it wasn''t getting up anytime soon.


    Seeing its sibling on death''s row, the second Qird went berserk.


    KIEEEEEEEK! EEK!


    Its mes red, roaring hotter than before.


    Malik felt the intensity even from a distance.


    It charged at him, no strategy¡ªjust blind rage.


    Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!


    Balls of fire suddenly emerged from its sh, aimed at him.


    And yet, he didn''t flinch, again.


    Weaving the least bit of his Aether into the de, he easily cut them in half.


    Then, with a single step, he closed the distance.


    One moment, the Qird was rushing him, and the next, he was in its face.


    It wasn''t ready for that, and before it could adjust...


    "Fall."


    His shamshir came down in another decisive strike.


    The de bit deep into its side, shoving it into the ground and spraying its blood.


    Still holding onto his de, Malik stood over it, his face nk.


    The creature looked up at him, its eyes wide with terror.


    It knew it couldn''t win. It knew this was the end.


    Kiek...


    He tightened his grip on the hilt, ready to end it.


    But then¡­


    ''W-what?''


    For a split second, the Qird''s trembling form blurred.


    And in its ce, he saw Sinbad.


    Kneeling, beaten, looking up at him with pleading eyes.


    Malik froze, his breath catching in his throat.


    "Little brother..."


    The illusion shattered as quickly as it came, and the Qird was back.


    Just a monster. Just another obstacle.


    He shook his head, exhaling sharply, his expression softening just slightly.


    "...Sorry."


    Malik pulled the de free and turned away, ignoring the faint, pitiful whines behind him.


    The fight was over.


    While he wiped his de clean from blood, he noticed the first Qird dragging itself over to its fallen sibling.


    The two leaned against each other, staring at him with what looked like¡­ understanding.


    "Go..."


    Malik raised his shamshir, pointing it at them.


    "Don''t make me regret this."


    For a long, tense moment, neither of them moved.


    Then, slowly, they turned and limped away, their bodies flickering like dying embers.


    He lowered his weapon, letting out a quiet sigh.


    ''I don''t have time for this.''

 Chapter 52 Infernos Aftermath

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "¡­Did anyone see that?"


    "The Sultan''s just a normal beggar, right?"


    "His sword technique..."


    "A R-Royal Sword style?"


    "..."


    The entire hall fell silent for a beat like its author had hit pause...


    "No fucking way!"


    Then chaos erupted once more.


    "That has to be coincidental!"


    "Nah, the Sultan must''ve had his guardian teach him!"


    "Right, like anyone can just pull that shit off. That''s years of training!"


    "If that''s true, then why the fuck didn''t he use it against that shit-faced Seeker?!"


    Their voices ovepped in a mess of disbelief and spection.


    "I knew there was something weird about him! The relic''s hiding the real shit!"


    "Hiding? It''s lying! A beggar? My ass!"


    "Then exin why he''d let himself get beat down in that fight, huh?!"


    "That doesn''t add up!"


    "Maybe it''s strategy?"


    "Bullshit! You don''t just ''strategize'' getting your face kicked in!"


    The argument spiraled, growing louder and more ridiculous with each passing second.


    At the front of the hall, Azeem, still sitting on the ground, palmed his forehead.


    "Fools... That''s undoubtedly the Royal Sword style."


    Noor had her eyes wide with disbelief.


    "Hold on. That''s not possible. As far as I know, his guardian''s not of noble descent, and I''m sure he wasn''t a Ban¨± Sym¨¡n either. None of them were missing around that time. Malik doesn''t have the background, the training, or the pedigree for something like that. So how¡ª"


    "Maybe he found a manual?"


    La raised both eyebrows in a half-joking, half-serious way.


    "You know, like that ''Magi for Dummies'' Grimoire."


    "Madam La, please."


    Roya pinched the bridge of her nose.


    "You can''t just find THE Royal Sword style."


    La snapped back, folding her arms:


    "Well, excuse me for trying to make sense of the impossible."


    While those two went on, Azeem was too busy muttering to himself, counting on his fingers.


    "Okay, so there''s the stance, the timing, the counter-sh¡ªthat was at least three hallmarks of the style right there. And the way he baited that Qird? Textbook. I mean, what the Hell? That guardian of his must''ve known somehow."


    "Forget the style for a second; he probably lucked off somewhere and got it."


    Zafar cut in, his voice sounding more annoyed than he would''ve liked.


    "He let them go ''cause they reminded him of Sinbad. The Viin''s already gone insane!"


    "And?"


    Safira shot back.


    "It''s not like those two Qirds were gonna get up and start a revolution."


    "It isn''t about that!"


    He jabbed a finger towards the projection.


    "You don''t let things go in the Maw. Not unless you want theming back ten times worse."


    "So what?"


    "I''m saying that he''s trying to look kind, but he''s only making it worse for the other Seekers."


    "..."


    Safira red at him dryly.


    "...Maybe he''s just not as heartless as you... Hero."


    Ignoring any rebuttal he might have, she turned, continuing to watch her teacher''s memories.


    It seemed that even after all that happened, his luck hadn''t improved a single bit.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik hadn''t gotten far from the lighthouse before he felt it¡ªa shift.


    The air seemed to thicken, crawling up his back like a bad omen.


    And it seemed that he wasn''t the only one who had felt that change.


    The forest had gone quiet, save for the faint rustling of leaves.


    No critters scampering around, no distant growls, no whisper of the wind.


    Just... silence.


    It didn''t take a genius to figure out why.


    He''d just killed the top dog of this fiery monkey circus.


    The rest? Oh, they''d noticed.


    "Of course~..."


    Malik''s right hand hovered over his shamshir.


    KIEEEEEEK! KIEEEEEEEEEEEEK! KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!


    Then came the sound.


    An army of screeches and roars, each one more pissed off than thest.


    Trees shook as the Qirds began pouring into the clearing.


    Dozens of them, their mes painting the forest in shades of orange and red.


    "Huh... Well, this escted."


    Before he could get another word out, the first Qird lunged at him¡ªa burly one.


    Malik sidestepped, swiping his de across its side.


    A clean hit, nearly ending its life, but before he could follow up...


    KIEEEEEEK!


    Two more Qirds rushed him, nking him from both sides.


    He ducked under one''s swipe, kicked it into the other, and quickly spun his de around, striking back another two.


    Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.


    Four bodies hit the ground in quick session.@@novelbin@@


    Malik barely spared them a nce; instead, he used that moment to activate his only ability.


    "Scorched Grace."


    The words barely left his lips before his heat hit him like a rampaging bull.


    It surged through him, veins glowing gold, and both arms ckened.


    With a flick of his left hand, a small me danced to life in his palm.


    Then, without missing a beat, he cocked his fist back and punched the air.


    A short burst of fire shot out, mming straight into the closest Qird''s chest.


    The thing staggered back, screeching like a banshee.


    Kieeeeek!


    Malik didn''t even get a second to enjoy the moment.


    Another Qird darted in from the left, aiming straight for his ribs.


    "Ah, Hell¡ª"


    He twisted just in time, his shamshir meeting its ws with a sharp ng.


    Sparks flew as he shoved the beast back hard, knocking it off bnce.


    Before it could recover, he stepped in close, his palm igniting.


    He mmed it into the Qird''s face with a solid WHOOMPH.


    The mes exploded outward, swallowing its head in a fiery wreath. KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!


    It iled like a drunken idiot, crashing into a tree as Malik let out a dry chuckle.


    "...Tough."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall exploded again.


    Only metaphorically, of course.


    "He''s C.O.L.D!"


    "Seriously, just where did he learn that?!"


    "He''s a beggar for fuck sake!"


    "Even with a Grimoire or two, fighting like that is impossible."


    "Yeah, you see that counter? He''s got experience."


    "The Holy Relic is hiding shit from us!"


    Their voices ovepped in an incoherent storm.


    Shock, disbelief, confusion.


    Some pointed wildly at the projection, and others gestured to each other, screaming.


    La, looking proud, pped her hands, barely stopping herself fromughing.


    "Guess that''s what you can expect from a man like him."


    Safira nodded in agreement, and Azeem couldn''t help but do so as well.


    The others didn''t react much to her words, and, as expected, only Zafar was the outlier.


    "Maybe that guardian of his stuffed him with Grimoires! Or relics!"


    Their "hero" looked ready to burst a blood vessel, his screams doing his image no good.


    "He has to have a Holy Relic or two boosting his skills!"


    La rolled her eyes.


    "No, that was pure technique. You saw the form."


    Azeem waved them all down, trying to get them to shut up.


    "Calm yourselves. You''re disturbing my viewing¡ª"


    "Enough!"


    The hall fell silent so quickly as if someone had flipped a switch.


    Not because someone yelled¡ªplenty of that had been happening.


    But because that one word came from someone they least expected.


    Roya.


    And while she only meant to silence the crowd, she interrupted those next to her as well.


    Still, though, none of them said much about it, more interested in what she had to say.


    "Do you all hear yourselves?"


    Her voice was cold.


    "A coalition of supposed experts, schrs, and warriors reduced to bickering children over a damned sword style."


    "But¡ª"


    Zafar, ever the retard, started to pipe up.


    But she shut him down with a re so sharp it might''ve sliced him in two.


    "No ''buts.'' You''re so caught up in your own egos, you can''t see what''s in front of you. Whether or not Malik is a beggar, a noble, or some interdimensional wildcard isn''t the point."


    She gestured toward the dying Qirds.


    "Here''s a thought. Maybe instead of dissecting every move he makes, you should learn from it. Or better yet¡ªfigure out how you''d survive in his ce."


    For once, no one dared argue.


    "Now, shut up and watch. Or leave. I don''t care which."

 Chapter 53 Infernos Aftermath II

    Malik barely had time to breathe before two more were on him.@@novelbin@@


    One came low, trying to swipe his legs out, while the other leaped high, aiming for his head.


    He jumped back, his feet skidding on the dirt as the high one''s ws nearly raked across his face.


    His de shed in a quick arc, clipping the low one''s arm and sending it spinning to the ground.


    The second Qirdnded rough and pounced again.


    Malik sidestepped, driving his elbow into its side midair, then followed up with a sh across its back.


    The creature hit the ground in a heap, snarling for a moment then dead the next.


    "You guys gotta work on your coordination."


    He flicked the blood off his de.


    KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!


    A loud screech from his blind spot made him whirl around.


    Another Qird¡ªa big one, its mes burning brighter than the rest¡ªcame barreling toward him.


    "Oh, shit!"


    Malik threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding getting ttened.


    The beast skidded to a halt, then turned back to face him in what seemed to be a blink.


    Without pause, it charged again, its ws leaving scorched marks on the dirt.


    Malik nted his feet, gripping his shamshir with both hands, nearly sizzling the hilt.


    KIEEK¡ª!


    At thest second, he stepped forward instead of back, meeting it head-on.


    "Shut."


    His de sliced upward.


    ng!


    Sparks flew as it shed against the Qird''s ming ws.


    The force of the impact sent vibrations through his body, reaching the ground, cracking it.


    It was a strength surpassing his own, but he held firm.


    "Kneel."


    With a twist of his wrist, he redirected the Qird''s momentum, sending it stumbling past him.


    He spun on his heel, bringing his shamshir down in an arc that split its legs clean.


    Kieeeeeeeeeeeeek!


    It howled, copsing onto its side, and he stepped close, raising his de.


    But before he could finish it, two more were on him.


    One lunged for his back, its ws aimed for his neck, while the other shot multiple fireballs at him.


    Malik dropped to the ground in a roll, narrowly dodging the mes as they whizzed past, exploding against a tree.


    Popping up to his feet, he swung his sword in a wide arc, forcing the Qird behind him to back off.


    The other one rushed him, thinking it had an opening.


    Big mistake.


    Malik turned on a dime, his free hand igniting in mes.


    With a sharp thrust, he shot a fiery st straight into its chest.


    The Qird was lifted off the ground, flying backward into one of its friends, dead.


    Malik grinned, spinning his dezily.


    "Next time, think before you try to dogpile me."


    That grin didn''tst.


    More Qirds flooded into the clearing¡ªten, maybe fifteen.


    They formed a loose circle around him, mes ring like torches in the forest.


    He let out a low sigh, gripping his hilt tightly.


    "Alright, then. You wanna do this the hard way? Let''s go."


    The Qirds attacked as one, a chaotic wave of ws, fangs, and fire.


    Malik moved like a man possessed, his de a blur as he parried and countered.


    One Qird came too close, and he mmed his fiery palm into its stomach, sending it sprawling.


    Another leaped at him, and he ducked low, shing upward to open a gash across its chest.


    A small one, undetected until thest moment,tched onto his arm, ws digging into his skin.


    "Grrh!"


    He growled, headbutting it hard enough to daze it, then sted it off at point-nk range.


    They just kepting.


    For every Qird he put down, three more seemed to take their ce.


    They weren''t just random attackers anymore¡ªthey were coordinated.


    Surrounding him. Pushing him into corners.


    That forced him to start thinking outside the box, use all he had to his advantage.


    Malik didn''t just fight them¡ªhe outsmarted them.


    Using the terrain he''d spent days scouting, he lured Qirds into tight spaces, forcing them to bottleneck.


    He used fallen branches as distractions, leading them into ambushes.


    Even baited a few of them to charge into his de.


    The man was good, no doubt about that, but he wasn''t invincible.


    No, he was so very far from that.


    Exhaustion had arrived.


    His breath came in ragged gasps, struggling against all the smoke and fire.


    His muscles screamed in protest as well, showing signs of failure.


    Malik couldn''t keep this up forever.


    There was no way out of this but escape.


    He nced around, spotting a fewndmarks belonging to a nearby stream.


    ''You''ll be my ticket.''


    A risky move, considering his past experiences with water, but better than slowly getting overwhelmed and ripped apart piece by piece.


    "Time to go."


    He sheathed his shamshir, then shot another fire st at the nearest cluster of Qirds.


    It didn''t do much damage, but the explosion bought him a few precious seconds.


    Then he bolted, weaving through the trees and dodging fireballs as they gave chase.


    Using his knowledge of the terrain, he darted through narrow paths, leading them into traps¡ªces where the terrain worked against them, away from trees.


    He simply gave them a hard time.


    One by one, they fell behind, tripping over roots, crashing into, and shooting each other.


    And yet, many of the Qirds remained hot on his tail, literally.


    Though... he didn''t seem to mind that as much as one might expect.


    Just as he reached the small stream, Malik skidded to a stop, his eyes scanning it for danger.


    Unsullied blue water glistened under the flickering light of the mes chasing him.


    Nothing was revealed to be hiding in its currents.


    "¡­Gotta do it."


    Taking a deep breath, he waded into the stream, his fiery hands glowing brighter.


    He pressed both hands down, boiling the water for a moment before it quickly formed a thick wall of steam that nketed the area.


    KIEEEEEEEEK! KIEEEEEEEEEEEK! KIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!


    The Qirds screeched in confusion, unable to understand what was left from right.


    Using that chaos, Malik swam away, moving as quickly and quietly as he could.


    By the time the steam cleared, he was gone, back onnd in the distance.


    Panting, he leaned against a tree, wiping sweat from his brow.


    His body ached, and his hands ached, but he was alive.


    "Public enemy number one, eh~?"


    The lighthouse was now to his southeast, bit of a distance away.


    Malik stared at it, then looked back at where his destinationy.


    "They better be there."

 Chapter 54 Ghost

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    It had been weeks, perhaps even months, of Malik sneaking and fighting his way to Ghabeh.


    The journey wasn''t a straight shot¡ªit never was in this cursednd.


    Once he passed the river, there never came a day where he didn''t spot a few Seekers.


    They were everywhere, increasing in number the closer he got to the north.


    Malik avoided them like the gue, sticking to the underbrush, crouching low, and just generally avoiding any open routes.


    And the monsters?


    Yeah, they weren''t much better.


    A couple of them had even been bold enough to attack him.


    The first was some kind of oversized lizard with a face full of spikes.


    It lunged at him from underneath, hidden deep in the ground.


    Fast for sure, but Malik''s shamshir was faster, shing through its thick hide like butter.


    The second was a bit worse¡ªa towering mantis with ws the size of his arms.


    That fight had left him with a torn sleeve and a long, shallow cut on his forearm.


    Nothing life-threatening, but it stung like Hell.


    Still, he made it.


    Finally.


    The towering mushrooms of Ghabeh loomed ahead of him.


    Their massive caps glowed faintly, like palenterns in perpetual twilight.


    A beautiful sight, one that he didn''t bother to admire.


    "...Alright."


    He took his first steps into the eerily quiet forest.


    The air hit him immediately¡ªdamp, thick with the tang of wet earth and something electric.


    Aether, no doubt.


    It buzzed faintly in his veins, stronger here than anywhere else he''d been.


    A feeling morefortable than he''d like to admit.


    ''Straight. Then left.''


    The map burned in his mind, guiding his every step.


    He moved carefully, his feet light, his breaths shallow.


    Everything about the current him was subdued, camouging himself with his surroundings.


    Malik wasn''t an idiot¡ªhe avoided therger, brighter mushrooms.


    He''d read a few mentions of them in Rafiq''s Grimoire.


    Rocs.


    Those glowing towers were their homes.


    And they weren''t the kind ofpany he was in the mood for.


    Hours passed as he wound his way through the maze of fungi, their stalks so thick they blotted out the already dim sky.


    Their sheer size was truly ridiculous¡ªeach one could''ve supported a whole town if someone had the guts to try.


    But, as wonderous as they were, Malik didn''t have much longer to dwell on them.


    Because... finally, he found it.


    The spot. The area marked in his mind.


    A small clearing tucked beneath the canopy of an enormous mushroom.


    Its cap was so wide it felt like standing under the shadow of a mountain.


    At first nce, it seemed empty.@@novelbin@@


    Just another stretch of damp earth.


    But as he circled the area, he spotted them:


    Small, hidden tents clustered together under the mushroom''s protective cover.


    They were tucked so neatly into the base of the stalk that someone less observant might''ve walked right past them.


    ''I''ve found you...''


    His lips curled into a faint smile, a face he hadn''t shown ever since that ursed day.


    ''And now, I''ll end you.''


    Malik''s first thought was to charge in, de swinging, and tear them all apart.


    The thought of it¡ªthe thrill of ughtering those he deemed less than human, fulfilling his revenge, cleaning up what needed to be cleaned¡ªbuzzed beneath his skin like an itch he couldn''t scratch.


    But he stopped himself.


    Barely.


    Rushing in without a n was a good way to end up dead.


    Even if he''d survive, it was the kind of stupidity he wouldn''t stand for.


    He forced a slow, deep breath, the air cold against his lungs, and made himself calm down.


    From the cover of a rtively small stalk, Malik crouched low and watched the camp.


    There were about two dozen people, maybe more, moving in and out of the tents.


    Most were rough-looking men armed with swords, axes, spears, daggers, or crossbows.


    Their movements werezy, confident¡ªthe kind of arrogance that came from thinking no one would dare cross them out here.


    Or at least a belief that those who might ''visit'' them were too weak to bother with.


    Then Malik saw the cages.


    His eyes narrowed as he spotted them, tucked behind the tents and partially obscured by a pile of supplies.


    Metal bars, rusted but sturdy, holding girls inside.


    From his angle, he couldn''t see how many there were or what condition they were in, but the sight was enough to make his blood boil.


    "vers."


    He muttered under his breath, the word dripping with disdain.


    Of course, it had to be vers. Smugglers, too, judging by the crates stacked near the tents.


    Probably part of arger ring, using the dense Ghabeh as their base of operations.


    Perfect cover¡ªremote, a little dangerous, and hard to track.


    ''...Wait.''


    Malik''s mind worked quickly, piecing things together.


    ''That snake bastard...''


    Rafiq''s arrival at Althawul made a lot more sense now.


    His idiot roommates back at the inn must''ve ratted him out to these bastards, either out of desperation or sheer stupidity.


    And these vers, smug as ever, sent someone over to see what was what.


    One guy, though. Just one.


    ''That means they didn''t know Sinbad and Huda were Al-Sayf.''


    If they had, Malik doubted they''d have sent a single scout.


    No, they''d havee in force, the whole group armed to the teeth.


    "Fucking bastards."


    Malik, ignoring his rising urge for aimless violence, spent hours watching them, memorizing their movements, their routines.


    One man stood out¡ªa scrawny figure who seemed to be in charge.


    He barked orders at the others, his voice carrying across the camp.


    The rest of them didn''t seem particrly disciplined, lounging around or drinking from sks when they weren''t on watch.


    Sloppy.


    They''d been out here too long.


    Think they were untouchable.


    They were wrong.


    So very wrong.


    ''...Alright, that''s enough.''


    Satisfied with his findings, he stood up and began to move.


    Malik crept along the edge of the clearing, circling wide until he neared a man standing by himself on the camp''s outskirts.


    The guy was a scruffy-looking type, leaning on hised spear while staring off into the distance.


    Easy pickings.


    Malik approached slowly, his shamshir hidden at his side.


    When he was close enough, he called out:


    "Hey, brother. You gotta minute?"


    The man turned, startled, yanking the spear out of the ground.


    "What¡ªwho the hell are you?"


    Malik kept walking, closing the distance.


    "I''m lost. Need some help."


    The man''s expression shifted from confusion to anger.


    "Get the hell out of here! Do you even know where you are?!"


    Malik didn''t respond, though his mind couldn''t help but quip:


    ''Didn''t you just hear that I was lost? Dumbass.''


    He just kept walking, his eyes locked on the man''s.


    "DO YOU WANT TO DIE?!"


    The man shouted, raising his spear and pointing it at him.


    Malik chuckled, a low, dangerous sound.


    "Maybe."


    In one fluid motion, his deshed out.


    It caught the man''s neck, slicing it clean from one end to the next.


    His head slid off and hit the ground before he even realized what had happened.


    "One."

 Chapter 55 For Sinbad

    Malik stepped over the body and kept moving, circling the camp.


    He proceeded to take out the guards one by one, lobbing off their heads.


    To them, he was no different than a ghost.


    Not a single one saw himing.


    A quick sh, a stab to the kidney, a de across the throat¡ªsilent, efficient, brutal.


    By the time he was done, the outer edges of the camp were littered with bodies, and no one inside had a clue.


    "Fourteen."


    Malik wiped the blood off his de and turned his attention to the heart of the camp.


    The tents, the cages, the smugglers, and the vers who thought themselves as safe.


    A slow, cold smile spread across his face as he started to close in.@@novelbin@@


    ''You''re next.''


    Malik crouched, hiding behind one of the outer tents for a short moment.


    Each breath he took was purposeful, measured¡ªlike a predator preparing to strike.


    Meanwhile, his prey was lively, unaware that their deaths were now a countdown.


    "Nine."


    The first one sat near the perimeter, antern dimly illuminating his bored expression.


    Malik crept closer, his shamshir drawn, the curved de catching the faintest glint of light.


    Just as the man scratched his neck and yawned, he moved in.


    His hand mped over the man''s mouth, cutting off a startled gasp, and his de pierced cleanly into his kidney, inflicting as much pain as possible while staying just as quiet.


    He let go, and the body slumped to the ground.


    "Eight."


    Deeper in, he neared another.


    "Fuuuuckin ay~... these cuties will make us a killing."


    A man leaned against a cage containing frightened captives, muttering to himself about the profits they''d make.


    Malik approached from behind, using the sound of the man''s own voice to mask his movements.


    A quick jab to the back of the neck with his de severed the spine.


    His body stiffened and fell onto the cage, fumbling down.


    Malik stepped forward, catching it before it hit the ground, easing it to its final destination.


    He nced at the captives, his nk expression softening for a brief moment.


    "...Soon."


    With that whisper, he melted back into the shadows.


    "Seven."


    This one was patrolling near the supply crates.


    He moved towards him, and the guard paused, sensing something.


    But it was toote.


    Malik''s de pierced his neck and swung down, splitting much of him in half.


    "Six."


    Pulling his shamshir free, he already began scanning for the next target.


    Two of them this time, standing near the central fire, sharing a drink.


    Malik slipped closer and hurled a small rock into the bushes to their left.


    "Fuck was that?"


    "Probably a critter. Go get it, didn''t eat fresh meat for a while now~!"


    "Yeah, yeah... no way one came around here; it must''ve been the wind or something."


    When the weaker of them turned to investigate, Malik crept up and struck the still one.


    His de sliced through his neck in a single clean motion.


    "Five."


    "Who¡ª"


    The second man turned back just in time to see Malik''s de sh again.


    His body toppled forward, lifeless.


    "Four."


    A woman near the tents, sharpening a dagger.


    Her focus was admirable, but it was her undoing.


    Malik approached from her blind spot, driving his de through her neck and into her heart.


    She let out a soft gasp before copsing.


    He wiped the de on her cloak and took the dagger.


    "Three."


    It was a heavyset man who seemed to be in charge of guarding the cage keys.


    Malik''s lips twitched.


    ''Showing off, eh?''


    He hid behind a nearby tent and waited.


    The man walked directly past him, humming a tuneless tune.


    "Hey."


    Malik stepped out, standing behind him.


    "W-WHA¡ª"


    A single upward sh cut him from bottom to top, slicing him in half.


    The keys jingled as they hit the ground, alongside his body.


    Malik pocketed them before slipping back behind cover.


    "Two."


    One of the men, a tent away from the leader''s, paced nervously, muttering about something or another.


    Malik didn''t bother to register any of that, approaching him much slower than the others.


    He walked behind a few tents to avoid the central campfire.


    When close, he purposely made a noise, stepping hard on the grass.


    Just as the man stopped moving and looked around, Malik lunged towards him.


    He drove his newly ''gifted'' dagger into the base of his skull.


    "One."


    Nearing the final number, he dragged the body behind a tent, ensuring it wouldn''t be found.


    For whatever reason, this man was nervous, so Malik doubted the leader to be any different.


    The bastard might just decide to randomly exit his tent.


    But, just as he was about to reach a small little hiding spot...


    "Are you the fucker that did this?!"


    A man''s scream echoed from the camp''s perimeter.


    Ah... it appeared that someone was away in the hours that he scanned the ce.


    How unlucky.


    ''Why do things never go smoothly?''


    Sighing, Malik dropped the body and picked up a crossbow from his belt.


    "No. I''m just lost."


    He aimed the crossbow at the man''s head.


    "Don''t shoo¡ª!"


    Thwip!


    Before he could even finish his plea, a loud arrow found its way into his neck.


    "Zero...? Yeah."


    Malik looked at the crossbow, surprised that he actually managed it on the first try.


    ''Guess I should''ve learned this instead...''


    Shaking his head at that thought, he quickly hid behind the tent, knowing that the leader was about toe out.


    And sure enough, out he came, tearing through the ps, crossbow, and sword in hand.


    His face twisted up, first in confusion, then in full-blown fear, as he spotted the bloodied figure standing not too far off.


    His eyes darted around, taking in the carnage¡ªhis people, dead.


    All of them.


    Panic set in fast.


    "F-Fuck..."


    He tossed his weapons and scrambled at his belt, yanking out a Scroll.


    Hands shaking like a leaf, he fumbled to activate it, his voice cracking as he shouted into it:


    "Please, guild leader¡­ We''re under attack! A-All my men are dead! We¡ªI can''t see them, but they can see us... me. Please, for the love of God, help!"


    Then he bolted, running out of the camp with Malik silently tailing him.


    "Ghosts! I didn''t even hear any of my men die!"


    He tightened his grip on the Scroll.


    "I don''t wanna die! I want to go back... I NEED help! I NEED support!"


    He stumbled, tripping over his own feet, but quickly scrambled back up, barely able to keep his eyes from ncing left and right.


    "They showed up out of nowhere!"


    The Scroll began to dim.


    "Send help! Please. You don''t understand... seekers aren''t hunting us; it''s... ghosts. Ghosts!"


    It dimmedpletely, its light snuffed out, leaving him alone with his terror, his frantic words unanswered.


    "No, no, no¡ªdon''t do this to me!"


    The camp''s leader hurled it in frustration, his head snapping around¡ªonly to freeze.


    Malik stood right in front of him, calm as death.


    "Business is over today."


    Not "Business is closed."


    It was OVER.


    "Why the hell are you doing this?!"


    Desperation dripped from his scream''s every syble.


    Not caring for them, Malik stepped forward.


    His shamshir that dripped blood, gleamed under the faint glow of nearby mushrooms.


    A promise of death.


    To the man, he looked like a reaper, one Hell-bent on iming his life.


    And his voice was as dead as he was soon to be.


    "For Sinbad."


    Schwing!


    There wasn''t even time for another scream.


    One clean sh of Malik''s de and his head hit the ground with a dull thud.


    "You''ll regret... this... I..."


    Somehow it spoke itsst words even without a neck.


    It stopped only after its body followed suit, crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.


    "...Fuck."


    Malik exhaled sharply, flicking his de to send blood sttering onto the dirt.


    Then, as he looked down at the pale corpse, a small, bitter smile crept onto his face.


    "Old man¡­"


    He muttered to himself.


    "You''re wrong."


    He sheathed his de, his voice as cold as the steel at his side.


    "If revenge feels hollow... you just haven''t suffered enough."

 Chapter 56 A Reincarnators Privilege

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Yep. Can''t deny it. He''s cold... real cold."


    "I can''t look at him and see just some twelve-year-old."


    "Yeah, nah. Even back then, dude wasn''t any different than any of us here."


    "Better, you mean."


    "The way he moves. The way he¡ªhe just knew what to do, like it was nothing."


    "Mhm. No one would think him a first-timer after seeing that."


    "Right... you gotta admit, it''s... something."


    That was themon sentiment within the crowd.


    "Something, you say?"


    Yet, as always, nothing was ever one note.


    "It''s fucking terrifying, that''s what it is."


    "Who just strolls through a camp full of people and cuts them down like it''s a trip to the market?"


    "Doesn''t matter who they were¡ªvers or not¡ªthat shit''s wrong."


    "Wrong?"


    Someone scoffed, loud enough to turn heads.


    "That''s a load of bull. Y''all just like hearing yourselvesin."


    Another chimed in, smirking:


    "Man''s all business."@@novelbin@@


    "Yeah?"


    A bitterugh cut through.


    "Tell that to my buddy Hadi."


    The group paused, turning to the speaker.


    "Years back, he and I were just walking down the street. We spotted the Sultan, didn''t even say shit to him, then¡ªboom¡ªHadi''s a stain on the floor."


    "Eh. From what I''ve seen, unless you''re dumb enough to poke the ho''s nest, you''re golden."


    "Oh, shut the fuck up!"


    The bitter guy snapped, fists clenched.


    "You wanna start sympathizing with tyrants now?"


    A couple of others followed up, their voices filled with frustration.


    "Do you wanna be next?"


    "Half the people in this hall have beef with that bastard!"


    "Watch your damn words."


    The tension in the hall skyrocketed, a repeat ofst time.


    It seemed that no matter how they acted, things remained vtile.


    Silence crept in, thick enough to choke on, as everyone shut up and started throwing side-eyes at each other.


    Nobody wanted to be the idiot who said the next thing that set it all off.


    Meanwhile, at the much calmer front, Zafar sighed, rubbing his temples.


    ''Here we go again.''


    Letting things spiral wasn''t an option¡ªnot afterst time.


    The oue was nothing short of disastrous.


    Huda ditching the coalition had left cracks everywhere, cracks they''d only figure out after all this blew over.


    A repeat of that wouldn''t follow the same path; it''d show immediate consequences.


    Zafar needed to step up, even if it cost him, alienating himself or burning bridges with the "heroines."


    Still, he wasn''t sure who would be next to snap under all this pressure.


    But if he had to put his coins on it, it was Safira.


    Unlike the others¡ªand himself¡ªshe wasn''t noble or at least of noble blood.


    She hadn''t been born into power or privilege, making it possible that she''de dangerously close to living as a ve.


    If the Holy Relic showed Malik''s "important" memories as they''d suspected, then the moment he saved them had to be the start of his connection with someone who''d truly left a mark on his life.


    Safira fit that picture perfectly, or rather, she was the only one who could fit that picture.


    After all, she supposedly was his disciple hundreds of years before he became a professor at Nourzadah Academy.


    Zafar turned to her, his expression ugly as the thought of her came to mind.


    ''A ve, huh...''


    He shook his head, pushing down the disgust building up in his chest.


    ''Whatever. Even if the world knows what she was before, once she marries me, no one''s gonna bat an eye. Heh~, that could even be a good incentive!''


    The "hero" cracked a smile, trying to mask his feelings, and spoke, his voice rising with forced bravado:


    "Not heartless, huh? ''Cause, uh, that¡ªyeah, that looked pretty damn heartless to me."


    Safira''s gaze met his, calm, though her fingers tightened around her sleeve.


    "No... Not really. He doesn''t see them as human. To him, they''re monsters wearing skin. Worse than the monsters themselves."


    "Oh, I... I see~."


    Zafar drawled, his joking demeanor failing to mask his unease.


    With a deep breath, he straightened up, shaking his head slightly, then added:


    "So now... we''re the arbiters of humanity? Decide who counts and who doesn''t? Sounds an awful lot like someone else we know."


    Safira showed no reaction to that jab.


    "If you think that''s going to change anything, you''re not paying attention."


    "...Am I not? That Viin didn''t think your rebel family was human either. Remember how that turned out?"


    The memory of burning viges and broken families shed in her mind.


    Anger filled her, yet before she could respond, Azeem interjected:


    "So, you''re telling me that he thinks a Qird''s life is worth more than his own kind?"


    He piled on, siding with Zafar, interested to see how Safira would answer.


    "Yes."


    Her reply was immediate, blunt, catching everyone listening off guard.


    The simplicity of it was chilling, especially when it came from her, the Fairy of Devil''s Maw.


    Wasn''t she supposed to be kind and motherly? Where did that all go?


    "If he sees them as fair game, that''s what they are. At least to him."


    Zafar let out a short, bitterugh.


    "So not you?"


    "No, of course not. They were my family."


    "Then... shouldn''t you hate him instead of defending him? I don''t understand."


    Her lips curled into a faint, almost mncholic smile.


    "He only took away what he gave me... nothing more, nothing less."


    As their back and forth reached an end, Noor had her fingers tap against her knee.


    Her mind wasn''t on the morality of Malik''s actions.


    It was on something else entirely.


    ''He learned this... from that guardian of his.''


    Tap... Tap... Tap...


    ''That "old man" taught him to be like this. To see the world like this.''


    Noor''s gaze drifted, her lips pursing.


    ''Just who are you...?''


    ''A unregistered Ban¨± Sym¨¡n?''


    ''Surely not a noble; none would stomach a day in Zawaya.''


    She closed her eyes, her thoughts turning darker.


    ''Were you of mine family? Have you raised the Sultan to ruin me?''


    Her taps paused.


    ''Unfortunately for you... my system''s quite useful.''


    ''God-like even, creating things out of nothing but Aether.''


    ''It made me what I am today.''


    ''So a system-less man like you had no chance in the first ce.''


    And that was a reincarnator''s privilege.

 Chapter 57 Youre Handsome

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik took out the keys, his hands still slick with the vers'' blood.


    He unlocked the first cage.


    Then the next.


    And the next.


    When he was done, he tossed them away and turned to the girls inside.


    Damn, it was a grim sight.


    They were a mess of trembling bodies, their faces streaked with dirt and dried tears.


    Their hair hung in tangled mats, some strands sticking to their sweaty foreheads.


    Most of them couldn''t have been older than eight or nine, yet to hit puberty.


    Skinny as Hell, they clung to each other like it was the only thing keeping them alive.


    A shield from whatever nightmare they were in.


    The flickering campfire light wasn''t doing them any favors either.


    It made the hollow look in their eyes even worse¡ªeyes that had seen way too much shit.


    Gone through much, endured too much.


    Their clothes were little more than scraps, hanging off their malnourished bodies.


    Bruises¡ªfresh and ugly¡ªdecorated some of them, while others had scars running deep up their arms and legs, angry against pale and dark skin alike.


    Malik didn''t move.


    Didn''t even breathe too loud, not wanting to scare them any more than they already were.


    And in that silence, their quiet murmurs reached him as loud as screams:


    "W-Who is he?"


    "Another ver?"


    "No¡­ he¡­ he killed them."


    "Infighting?"


    "He doesn''t look like them."


    Others shushed thest one quickly, afraid that her words might provoke him.


    Malik didn''t bother reacting to that.


    Instead, he crouched low, resting his forearms on his knees.


    "You''re safe now."


    He smiled at the group, trying to appear less intimidating.


    "I''m not here to hurt you. Just¡­e out."


    The girls didn''t move.


    Their murmurs only grew more frantic.


    "D-Don''t listen to him!"


    "It''s a trick. It has to be."


    "He''s doing the same thing as them."


    "What if he''s not lying?"


    "What if he is?"


    "I-I-I don''t want to die..."


    One girl, clutching her knees to her chest, began to cry silently.


    Her shoulders shook, but not a sound escaped her lips.


    Malik watched her for a moment, his jaw tightening.


    He knew that kind of fear all too well¡ªthe kind that rooted itself so deep it suffocated you.


    "Look, you can stay in there if you want."


    He sighed, leaning closer to the bars, though he made sure not to touch them.


    "But I just took out everyone who could hurt you. I promise, no one''s gonna touch you."


    Still, no one moved.


    The air was thick with their hesitation, their doubt.


    "I know you''re scared."


    Malik shifted and sat cross-legged.


    He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he thought about what to say next.


    "Hell, I''d be scared too. But I''m not one of them. If I was, do you think I''d be talking to you like this even after hearing what you said?"


    With that obvious fact, the murmurs died down a bit.


    A few of the girls exchanged hesitant nces, their fear battling with curiosity.@@novelbin@@


    One of them, older than the rest¡ªmaybe early teens¡ªfinally stepped forward.


    The little girl had tangled dark hair and a fresh bruise across her cheek.


    She didn''t speak, but the way she edged closer to the bars told Malik she was listening.


    "You don''t have to trust me."


    He locked eyes with her, holding her gaze.


    "But trust this: the people who put you in here? They''re gone. Dead. I made sure of it."


    The girl hesitated, her fingers twitching as if debating whether to reach for the cage door.


    Another girl, a blonde-haired one, tugged at her arm, whispering something too soft for Malik to catch, but the dark-haired girl shook her off.


    Slowly, she reached out, her hand shaking as it touched the rustytch.


    The door creaked as she pushed it open, the sound startling some of the others.


    They collectively flinched, pulling back into the far corner of the cage.


    Quite unlike them, Malik didn''t move, not even an inch.


    He waited, letting her take the lead.


    The girl stepped out cautiously, her bare feet dragging across the dirt.


    Her legs wobbled like she might copse at any moment, but she eventually managed to keep herself upright, her head held high.


    When she was fully out, she looked up at Malik, her eyes filled with something new¡ªsomething closer to hope.


    "They''re really all gone?"


    Her voice was so soft it was almost inaudible.


    Malik nodded.


    "Yeah. They''re gone. You don''t have to worry about them anymore."


    The girl turned back to the others, her hand still resting on the cage door.


    "It''s okay... I think he''s telling the truth."


    Her words broke the tension like a dam bursting.


    The rest of the girls began to stir, clinging to each other as they stepped into the open air.


    Most still kept their distance from Malik, their gazes darting to him nervously, but the braver ones stood closer, their eyes scanning the camp as if expecting an ambush.


    "...Alright. Thank you."


    Malik stood slowly, careful not to make any sudden movements.


    "If you can walk, help me search this ce. Weapons, food, anything useful. If you''re too tired or hurt, find a spot to sit and rest. I''ll take care of the rest."


    The girls exchanged uncertain nces, but a few nodded.


    The dark-haired girl who''d first stepped out gave him a small, almost imperceptible smile before limping toward one of the tents.


    Malik watched her go, then turned to the others.


    "You''ll be fine. You''ve got a lot more fight in you than you think."


    Some nodded, and others just stared at him, unsure what to do.


    One girl, though, stood out.


    She was the blonde clinging to the dark-haired girl earlier.


    She stepped forward, her blue eyes fixed on Malik with an intensity that made him pause.


    "You''re handsome."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "...what the hell..."


    "...no way..."


    "...that''s¡ª"


    "...Lady Safira?!"


    "WAIT, WHAT?!"


    "Hold up! HOLD UP! That''s how she met the Sultan?!"


    "No way! No damn way¡ªshe almost got turned into a ve!"


    "Yo, someone exin how the fuck that happened!"


    "Our Fairy was almost made a ve for God''s sake!"

 Chapter 58 Single Light

    Those not of the smartest of minds screamed about, trying to process what was on disy.


    They''d not expected the memories to have taken this direction, not in the least.


    Most though, Magi with functioning brain cells, remained quiet, shocked in their own way.


    Zafar, who could barely be considered one of them, looked like someone had just smacked the face with a wet fish.


    His jaw dropped so hard one could park a whole caravan in it.


    ''She called him... handsome?!''


    Slowly, he spun toward his entourage, needing to appease his ego.


    "It''s not all about being handsome, right?"


    It was not a question but a demand for them to do what he ''needed.''


    And his yes-men understood that perfectly, jumping into action like trained parrots.


    "Of course not, my lord!"


    "That''d be shallow, my lord!"


    "You''re WAY more handsome, my lord!"


    Amidst their spree of bootlicking, an old man in the back whispered:


    "Brother''s down bad."


    Zafar whipped around, his face red as he jabbed a finger in their direction.


    "I AM NOT!"


    "..."


    Silence.


    No one responded.


    Whoever had said it now had likely and most wisely blended into the crowd.


    Clicking his tongue in frustration, Zafar waved his entourage quiet.


    "Idiots. All of you."


    His face reddened a slight bit as he tried¡ªand failed¡ªto look unbothered.


    While the "hero" tried not to embarrass himself any further, Safira wished she''d sink into the ground, her face so red it could''ve been mistaken as the ripest of tomatoes.


    "Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Why did I say that? Why did I say that?!"


    La, standing next to her, leaned in and patted her back gently, a knowing smile on her face.


    "Don''t worry. I felt the same way the first time I met him."


    Safira groaned, burying her face in her hands.


    "It''s not just that! Everyone''s gonna think I''m shallow now! Like, who even cares about looks in a moment like that?!"


    La chuckled softly.


    "Oh, we all care. Some of us are just better at hiding it."


    The crowd wasn''t letting it go, either.


    "Damn, imagine surviving all that just to simp for the Viin!"


    "He''s out here saving lives and stealing hearts. Hahahaha!"


    "I don''t me her. Have you seen him? He''s got that rugged, ''I''ll-save-you-but-also-burn-down-your-enemies'' vibe."


    "Our hero''s punching the air right now."


    "Shut UP!"


    Zafar barked, not bothering to look behind him, knowing that the old troll was still hiding.


    Some girl chimed in, smirking:


    "Nah, for real, though. If I was Lady Safira, I''d be saying the same thing."


    "That''s not helping!"


    Safira hissed, still covering her face.


    La gave her another reassuring pat, her expression softening.


    "It''s okay. They''ll get over it eventually. Just... maybe not today."


    Safira peeked through her fingers, ring at her friend.


    "You''re not helping either."


    La grinned.


    "That''s what friends are for."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik blinked.


    "What?"


    "You''re handsome."


    The little girl repeated, this time with a slight smile.


    Her confidence was surprising, almost jarringpared to the others.


    Malik scratched the back of his neck, unsure how to respond.


    "Uh¡­ thanks?"


    He then quickly turned away to focus on the search.


    "Let''s just¡­ get to work."


    "Yes, sir~!"


    Over the next hour, the group scoured the camp.


    Malik and the ones strong enough to move rummaged through tents and overturned crates, pulling out anything that could be of use.


    The haul was decent¡ªcoins of both bronze and silver, several swords, spears, axes, and crossbows; a handful of Scrolls, and surprisingly, no Grimoires were found.


    Instead, they got a collection of strange-looking Holy Relics.


    They had caught Malik''s attention immediately.


    He picked one up and turned it over in his hands, frowning at the familiar design.


    It was what that bastard Rafiq had used on his descent on the firstyer.


    They looked like backpacks, sleek but clearly worn from use.


    "What''s this Holy Relic?"


    He held it up for the group to see.


    The bold girl from earlier¡ªSafira, as she introduced herself¡ªnudged her friend forward.


    "Jasmine knows. She''ll exin."


    The brave girl, who apparently was called Jasmine, stepped up.


    She was quieter but equally sharp-eyed.


    "I-I''m surprised you don''t know about it... It''s how they get us in and out of the Al-Fawra. You just need to wear it, and it¡­ kind of makes you fly. They used it to smuggle some of us to the surface, straight out of Al-Fawra."


    Malik''s frown deepened as he realized what those "exit points" on Rafiq''s map meant.


    "I see. That''s¡­ efficient."


    His voice was t, seemingly uninterested, but his mind raced with the implications.


    After a few more seconds of staring, he handed the relic to Jasmine and Safira, then began distributing the rest among the group.


    Each girl got one, and he made sure they knew how to use it.


    But as they neared the end, it became ringly obvious¡ªthey were short.


    Two Holy Relics too few.


    The realization hit like a stone dropping into a silent well.


    "There''s not enough!"


    "What do we do now?"


    "Someone has to stay behind¡­"


    "There''s no way we''re leaving anyone behind."


    "There has to be another way!"


    "M-Maybe someone could share? Take turns or something?"


    "Yeah, that''s right!"


    "There''s no¡ª"


    Jasmine interrupted the poor girl, raining in on their parade.


    "Unfortunately... these relics don''t work that way. Once activated, they bind to the user for a day. You can''t just swap them around mid-use, and you can''t carry another person either... i-it deactivates. I know... I... I t-tried it before. Unless we somehow avoid the Faraja and find a way to get back, these two are staying here."


    Panic set in.


    "It''s not fair!"


    One of the two girls cried, clutching at her hair.


    "We can''t stay here! We can''t¡ª"


    The other joined in, her voice rising in a wail.


    "We''ll die! You can''t leave us here!"


    Malik didn''t have the heart to tell them the truth¡ªthat staying behind wasn''t optional.


    They had the luck of the draw, and their luck fell short.


    There was nothing more to say about it.


    He opened his mouth to calm them down, but little Safira stepped forward, pausing the words that sat on the tip of his tongue.


    "We''ll stay."


    Jasmine was at her side in an instant, nodding in agreement.


    "Take ours. The rest of you can go."


    The two girls who had been crying fell silent, their wide eyes darting between Safira and Jasmine.


    Without hesitation, they snatched the Holy Relics out of their hands and strapped them on, avoiding the other girls'' gazes like cowards.


    They didn''t say thank you, didn''t even look back¡ªthey just sat in the corner, clutching at their newfound salvation.


    Safira and Jasmine didn''t spare them a nce either.


    Their focus was on their savior.


    "Do you think of yourselves as martyrs?"


    Malik turned to them, his expression unreadable.


    "..."


    "..."


    They didn''t reply and just stared back at him.


    "...Heh."


    He smiled¡ªa small, genuine curve of his lips.


    "You sure about this?"


    "We''re sure."


    Jasmine spoke first, her voice now steady.


    "You said that there was no need to trust you..."


    Safira''s smile returned, lighter this time.


    "...But we do."


    Malik shook his head, both amused and resigned.


    "You two are something else."


    Safira tilted her head, her smile widening.


    "You know, Sir, you really are handsome."


    Malik blinked, caught off guard once more.


    "You already said that."


    "Doesn''t make it less true."


    Jasmine groaned, dragging a hand down her face.


    "Focus, Safira."


    Malik chuckled.


    "Alright, alright. Enough of that. Let''s figure out what''s next."


    He turned, expecting some final words, maybe even more protests¡ªbut what he saw stopped him cold.


    All of them¡ªthe girls¡ªhad knelt. Every single one.


    Heads bowed low, a few had their hands sped tightly, others spread out, palms pointing upwards.


    It wasn''t rehearsed; it wasn''t nned. It just happened.


    All their hearts connected, pulling them together towards a single light.


    Malik.


    And in the silence that followed, their voices rose¡ªnot loud, not in unison, but ovepping like wavespping at the shore.@@novelbin@@


    "Thank you."


    "For blessing us with him."


    "The man who carries your will."


    They whispered their thanks¡ªnot to him, not directly¡ªbut to whoever or whatever had led them to this moment.


    To fate, to luck, to God, or some other higher power none of them could name.


    A prayer, not to those who''d long turned their backs, but to whatever thread of mercy might still linger in the cracks of this unforgiving world.


    For the boy who bore the weight of a world they couldn''t see, but felt all the same.


    For the boy who, even now, didn''t ask for thanks, didn''t need it¡ªbut who, in the end, deserved it all the same.


    "Whoever''s out there... Thank you for sending him to us."


    "Bless him as you blessed us."


    "Comfort him as youforted us."


    Safira kneeled, joining the prayer.


    "And forgive him..."


    Jasmine did as well.


    "For everything he carries. For everything he can''t let go."


    Pleasefort the man who bore the burden of our lives...


    Bless this man, who stood when no one else would.


    And grant him mercy¡ªyour pity, yourpassion¡ª


    For he has given us everything.


    "..."


    Malik didn''t interrupt. Couldn''t.


    He wanted tough it off, make some stupid joke, but the lump in his throat wouldn''t budge.


    All he could do was stand there, his hands tightening into fists at his sides as the weight of their belief¡ªof their hope¡ªwrapped around him like a mantle he hadn''t asked for but couldn''t refuse.


    It was heavy but warm, grounding him in a way he didn''t know he needed.


    And in that moment, he realized something.


    To them, this wasn''t just about survival; it was about faith.


    About handing over their fears, their doubts, their everything¡ªto him.


    And he, for all his bravado and half-baked ns, knew he had to carry it.


    Because if he didn''t... who would?


    There was no one there for kids like him.


    He had to be that someone.


    Malik had to be that light.

 Chapter 59 Two Little Disciples

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "...Beautiful."


    The word came from somewhere deep in the crowd, like a whisper carried on the wind.


    A beat passed, and then another voice chimed in:


    "That was... something else."


    Then another:


    "Didn''t think I''d ever say this about the Sultan, but it was pure."


    Then another:


    "Really was. Enough to make a grown cry."


    Then another:


    "Yeah."


    Those Magi went quiet after that, going through the motions.


    Silence returned to grace the hall, but not for long, as the two dumbasses began arguing:


    "Bro, I''m not crying; you''re crying!"


    "Shut up! You''re bawling like a baby."


    They hated Malik''s guts¡ªdown to the veryst atom.


    But even they couldn''t run their mouths after witnessing that.


    No... not this scene.


    For once, they had nothing to nitpick, no smug littlements to throw around.


    Didn''t mean they''d stop tearing him downter, though.


    Oh, they''d be back at it soon enough, trashing his name like it was their life''s mission.


    But right now?


    Even they had to admit this scene hit different.


    Something about it stirred something in them.


    Something innocent they hadn''t felt in a long time.


    Maybe ever.


    And man, it was annoying.


    Made them squirm... cry.


    An emotional wave they couldn''t stop.


    And they weren''t the only ones feeling that way.


    Magi sniffled, a few openly wept, and others just stared at the now-paused projection with wide, ssy eyes.


    Even Noor and Roya, the two usually indifferent characters, looked misty-eyed, muttering a quiet:


    "...Wow."


    Azeem smiled a sad one, jealousy nearly apparent on his face.


    Once, only he and a rare few others knew the kindness of the Sultan.


    A beautiful heart he believed buried under tons of evil.


    It was why he remained under him for so long... but now, he lost the sole privilege.


    The whole world knew.


    Zafar, meanwhile, was on the other side of jealousy.


    His jaw worked like he was chewing on words he couldn''t spit out.


    Safira, "his woman," fawned on another man and even kneeled for him.


    Giving him a whole prayer circle in his honor.


    ''FUCKING BASTARD!''


    The woman herself didn''t care about any of that, however.


    Her focus wasn''t on anyone else except that little friend of hers.


    "Jasmine..."


    She was reminded of her, a friend that she deeply loved and cared for.


    A girl who''d been an anchor in a life that wasn''t even hers to begin with.


    Slowly, her memories yed back, reminding her of her sorrowful, sorrowful past.


    ''...One day I just woke up in that body. Transmigrated, dropped into a mess I didn''t understand, about to be shipped off to God-knows-where.''


    Her fingers twitched as the thought stabbed deeper.


    ''If not for her, I probably would''ve gotten myself killed.''


    For a second, her face softened, a flicker of the warmth she once felt.


    ''I really loved her...''


    But it didn''tst.


    The smile vanished, reced by something darker.


    Something venomous.


    ''Too bad she tried to take what wasn''t hers.''


    But before anyone could notice, a loud, fervent shout echoed from the far side of the room.


    "All Hail! All Hail the True Sultan!"


    Everyone turned toward themotion, and the same group of white-hooded figures raised their hands to the Heavens above.


    "Praise Him!"


    "Even the depraved carries ''His'' will!"


    "Blessed be ''His'' will!"


    "We were right to believe! Right to be thankful!"


    "''His'' light shines even in the darkest ces!"


    "This is proof! Proof of ''His'' mercy! ''His'' grace!"


    "The True Sultan watches over us, even now!"


    "ALL HAIL! ALL HAIL!"


    Most of the crowd groaned collectively, starting to get annoyed.


    "Ah, man... The Zealots are at it again."


    "Can''t they stay quiet like the other two?"


    "You Temr are not the only religious faction here, you know?"


    "Learn something from their books; it might do you some good."


    Comints poured in from half of the crowd, and yet...


    "ALL HAIL!"


    They weren''t listening.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    For a very long second, Malik closed his eyes.


    He didn''t believe in miracles. Not really.


    But tonight, standing there in the dim light, surrounded by these voices, these hearts turned toward him¡ªhe almost wanted to.


    When he opened his eyes again, he found them all watching him.


    Not with fear. Not with desperation. But with something deeper.


    Something purer.


    ''Maybe...''


    And for that, Malik let himself relearn what he lost.


    Hope.


    ''It''s okay to hope.''


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Hey, the memories continued ying but these guys are still screaming."


    Azeem''s frustrated words were directed to Roya, as she was the one who brought Temr into the coalition.


    "Nothing I can do about it."


    She shrugged her shoulders.


    "They''ve ''lent'' me this Ten Commandment. They know they''re a level above the rest, and they''re abusing that fact."


    "So you''re saying we can''t do shit?"


    She shook her head.


    "No. We can. But I''d rather not ''sour'' our rtionship."


    He stared at her for a while, then turned back to the projection.


    "...Whatever you say, Lady."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik nced at a map, some torn scrap of parchment he''d snagged from the leader''s tent.


    He traced the crude lines with a finger, lips pressing into a tight line as he tried to make sense of it.


    The so-called exit points marked on it weren''t far¡ªat least, not if they kept up a steady pace.


    "Alright, listen up!"


    He called, gathering the girls near the camp''s edge, surrounding him like ducklings to their mother hen.


    Malik shook his head at the thought and cleared his throat before addressing them again:


    "We''re heading for one of these exit points. It''s not far, but we gotta move quick and stay sharp. Keep your weapons ready¡ªif anything jumps out, you fight like Hell until I reach you, got it?"


    A mix of nervous nods and determined expressions met his words.


    "Good."


    He proceeded to walk through the group, checking their makeshift belts where jangling weapons hung.


    Those with too small a figure for belts had to hold their weapons.


    Some of them couldn''t even properly do that, their grips unsure.


    "You."


    Malik pointed to a scrawny girl barely taller than the de she held.


    "Don''t grip it like it''s a snake about to bite you."


    He adjusted her hands, showing her the proper way to swing.


    "Hold it tight, yes, but not too much; stiffness inbat might be your downfall."


    She repeatedly nodded, too nervous to give her thanks.


    "Don''t mind."


    Malik moved on, making sure each girl had something to defend herself with, even if it was just a sharpened stick or a small knife.


    "Coins¡ªeveryone got coins?"


    The group shuffled awkwardly, some holding up small pouches.


    "Make sure you never lose them. You never know what the Faraja will ask for."


    He sighed, stepping back to take in the sight of them.@@novelbin@@


    They looked ridiculous¡ªa ragtag group of scared kids trying to y pretend.


    But it didn''t make himugh, not even a little.


    "Alright..."


    His voice was soft.


    "You''re ready. Let''s go."


    The walk to the exit point wasn''t as smooth as he''d hoped.


    Uneven ground, wet dirt, and narrow paths.


    Though thankfully, it didn''t get much worse than that.


    Malik stayed at the front at all times, his hand resting on the hilt of his shamshir, ready forbat.


    He''d nce back asionally, making sure no one fell behind.


    "You..."


    Midway through, he slowed down, joining Safira, who walked near the middle of the group with Jasmine.


    "...You doing okay?"


    Safira smiled.


    "We''re fine. You?"


    He snorted, spilling as much sarcasm into his words as he could:


    "Never better."


    Their conversation ended there, dry as the desert.


    When they reached the exit point, the group hesitated, staring up at the opening above.


    It looked like any other opening between the mushroom caps, but Malik was sure that it was the location.


    "Let''s do this."


    He pped his hands and turned to the girls.


    One by one, he began helping them activate their Holy Relics.


    Each of the strange-looking backpacks hummed to life, parachute-like structures unfolding above them.


    The girls gasped as they were lifted off the ground, floating just above it.


    "Whoa!"


    "Ah!"


    "I-I''m f-flying!"


    Chuckling at their reactions, he, with the help of Safira and Jasmine, began to push them up.


    They shifted, feet dangling for a few moments more before they started ascending.


    "Keep going!"


    Malik couldn''t help but smile, waving at them as they flew up into the darkness.


    "Don''t look down!"


    All the girls waved back nervously, even the two who fell short of their luck earlier.


    They offered no reply back, too terrified to speak, but Jasmine and Safira didn''t mind.


    Those two kept waving like maniacs, tears threatening to fall from their eyes.


    It wasn''t long before they disappeared into the night sky, swallowed by the darkness.


    "...Haaah."


    Malik let out a breath he didn''t realize he''d been holding and turned back.


    Safira and Jasmine stood there, arms crossed, looking way too calm for his liking.


    ''Weren''t they crying just now?''


    It was as if the girls from earlier had left alongside those up above.


    "Well¡ª"


    Malik started, but Safira interrupted him:


    "Master, can we ask something?"


    He froze, blinking at her.


    "Master? Wait, hold on¡ªwhat? I''m not¡ª"


    "We want to be your disciples."


    Jasmine said firmly, her voice cutting through his protests before they could even form.


    Malik stared at them both like they''d just lost their minds.


    "Disciples? What are you even talking about? I''m not a master¡ªHell, I''m barely a Magi!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Safira stood frozen, staring at the projection.


    Her heart felt like it had been dunked in ice and lit on fire all at once.


    The scene she''d just watched¡ªthose girls, Jasmine, Malik''s fumbling words¡ªit all brought back so many damned memories.


    Back then, she thought Malik was holding back, acting modest.


    She''d assumed it all was a part of some act, the way those from noble families did things to "experience themon folk" or whatever ridiculous reason they had.


    But now?


    "My God... he was telling the truth."


    Though the past her prayed for him like the rest, she''d written him off as some rich kid slumming it for fun, probably waiting for a chance to brag about how he''d "saved the day."


    Only now did she understand.


    Understand just how unfair she was.


    The boy had gone through literal Hell.


    There was no arrogance in his words, no air of superiority.


    He hadn''t acted like he was better than them¡ªhe''d just... helped.


    And there she was, judging him and nning to use him.


    Safira exhaled roughly, thoughts in her mind clicking into ce like a cruel puzzle.


    ''He didn''t think he was a big deal because he wasn''t.''


    ''He didn''te from some grand family or a guild.''


    ''It was just him... him and his stubborn will.''


    She felt augh bubble up, dry and bitter.


    ''And I called him ''Master.'' God, what an idiot I was.''

 Chapter 60 Good Kids

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "We don''t care."


    Safira stepped closer. Her blue eyes unwavering.


    "You saved us. You''re strong. You know things we don''t. That''s enough."


    Jasmine nodded.


    "Please. We''ll learn. We''ll work hard. Just¡­ let us learn from you."


    Malik sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.


    "Look, I''m ttered, but¡ª"


    "Please."


    Their voices were quiet but resolute, their eyes both determined and vulnerable.


    Malik groaned and nced at the side, spotting Sinbad leaning on a mushroom''s stalk.


    "You should do it, big brother~. Don''t you want to rece me?"


    He shook his head, dispelling the illusion.


    "Fine... I''ll be your¡­ whatever. But master...? You''re no ve. Call me teacher."


    ""Thank¡ª""


    "But!"


    He cut them off, getting back at them like a child.


    "Only until we''re out of here. Once we''re in the clear, it''s over. Got it?"


    They nodded eagerly, their faces lighting up.


    "Good."


    Malik sighed and looked away, muttering under his breath.


    "What the hell am I getting myself into¡­"


    He took a beat, then nced at the map again, plotting their next move.


    "Alright¡ªlet''s get moving. We''ve got a long way to go, and I''m not babysitting you forever."


    They fell into step behind him, their spirits seemingly lifted despite the daunting path ahead.


    And as they began their trek toward the south dunes, he couldn''t help but feel a strange warmth.


    For better or worse, he wasn''t alone anymore.


    ...


    "...You still didn''t tell us your name."


    Malik looked at the bathed Safira, who now wore freshly cut male clothes.


    He was about to reply, but before he could, Jasmine asked:


    "I-Is it, like, some kinda secret or something?"


    He shook his head.


    "What? No, it''s fine. Just didn''t find the right moment. Anyway, it''s Malik."


    Safira froze.


    And Malik caught it.


    A look that screamed absolute, bone-deep fear.


    It wasn''t just that, though. It was disdain. Hate. Fury.


    Like someone had just killed her family and used their faces as masks.


    It was so out of ce, he almost did a double take.


    This was Safira¡ªthe little one who acted ''carefree'' ever since they met.


    And yet, there she was.


    For a heartbeat... then¡ªpoof.


    Gone. Just like that.


    By the time Jasmine turned to ask, "What''s up?" Her face was back to her usual demeanor as if nothing happened.


    "Nothing."


    Malik almost thought he imagined it.


    Almost.


    But no. He''d seen it. Clear as day.


    ''...Why? Does she know me?''


    He wanted to ask but knew better than to.


    Digging into that wasn''t a can of worms he wanted to open right now.


    And it wasn''t something he liked either.


    "H-Hey teach..."


    Safira stammered suddenly, her voice desperate.


    "Is Malik, like, a supermon name where you''re from?"


    He narrowed his eyes just a little.


    The suspicion meter in his brain ticked up a notch, but he yed it cool.


    "Not really. Can''t say I''ve met anyone else with my name before."


    Safira looked down, her face tense.


    "I¡­ I see."


    Jasmine, bless her oblivious little heart, immediately jumped in with a subject change so clumsy it almost made himugh:


    "So, Teacher, since you''re a noble and all that¡­ Did you, uh, ever meet the Sultan?"


    Malik raised an eyebrow at her, but hey, whether obvious or not, distraction epted.


    "Nope. Don''t even know his name."


    He didn''t bother correcting her about his "nobility."


    There was no need to.


    It just better exined his position.


    Though, if he were honest... it was mainly because he was toozy to exin.


    But funnily enough, his answer would''ve been a lie either way.


    Quite ironic really.


    Malik did in fact meet the Sultan and he did know his name.


    Cyrus.


    He just didn''t know that he did.


    "Me neither~."


    Safira got her act together and skipped ahead, totally ignoring Malik''s careful attempts to safely guide them through the Ghabeh.


    "Y-Y-You can''t do thaaaat!"


    Judging by Jasmine''s reaction, Safira''s antics could be considered disrespectful.


    Malik didn''t though, he cared not for the stiffness of the old.


    She was free to enjoy her freedom... and enjoy it she did, practically radiating confidence.


    The girl poked at strange, tiny mushrooms and peered into hollow logs.


    She acted as if Ghabeh was her home''s little yground.


    Jasmine, on the other hand, stuck close to Malik.


    Her steps were cautious, eyes flicking nervously at every rustle or creak around them.


    But even then, she never said a word ofint.


    Even as her grip on the hem of his clothes made it clear she was ready to bolt if something jumped out.


    Malik let out a small sigh.


    ''One''s too reckless but is more afraid; the other''s too cautious but is braver. Perfect bnce, I guess.''


    "...Teach teach."


    Safira called back, her voice brimming with excitement.


    "What''s Aether really like? Is it like magic from those novels?"


    Malik chuckled.


    "Aether is much more than magic. It''s the very essence of what is and isn''t. The flow that binds the cosmos together. Everything you see, touch, breathe, and feel carries Aether within it."


    Jasmine tilted her head curiously.


    "Even us?"


    "Especially us."


    He ruffled her hair.


    "We Magi are unique because we can harness it, shape it, and make it our own."


    The girls exchanged nces, their curiosity ignited.


    Safira tugged on his hand.


    "Tell us more! Like¡­ how does it work?"


    Malik gestured for them to follow and stepped into a small clearing.


    One where shafts of starlight just began to dance on the forest floor.


    "Aether starts as a neutral energy like the breeze that stirs these trees."


    He crouched, drawing in the dirt with his finger.


    "But we Magi transform it into something personal¡ªour Aspect. These are like a reflection of what our path is, abination of abilities."


    {Neutral Aether > Aether Conversion > Absorbed Aether in Core > Abilities > Aspects > Divine Essence > Specialization.}


    He pointed at the rough diagram, showing them each step from beginning to end.


    "Now that you understand the basics, know this: every person has an Aether Core."


    Malik tapped his chest for emphasis.


    "It''s like a second heart, right here. It absorbs Aether, lets us control it, and gives us the power to shape our abilities. But it''s not just about raw strength¡ªit''s about bnce. Push yourself too far, and you could ''Turn Hollow,'' losing everything."


    Jasmine''s eyes widened while Safira leaned in closer.


    "So we have them too? Are they dormant or something?"


    "What about the ranks? Like¡­ how do we know who''s the strongest?"


    Malik grinned.


    "Right on the coin, Jasmine. And yeah, we''ve got the Divine Hierarchy. It''s how we Magi measure ourselves, or how the world measures us, I guess. At the bottom are the Nadhir, the Ascendants. They''re the first to cross the Aether threshold. Above them are the Jinn, the Seraphim, followed by the Mithqal¡ªthe Archons who regte the bnce of worlds."


    "And then?"


    Safira pressed.


    "Thene the Mal¨¡k, the Paragons... the Angels."


    Malik''s voice took on a note of reverence.


    "They''re gxy-level beings, the strongest most of us will ever meet. And at the top¡ª"


    "The Rukh."


    Jasmine whispered, her voice filled with awe.


    Malik nodded.


    "The Apex... They are Gods, beings who shape reality itself, Magi of Laws. But even they are not the end."


    "...W-What?"


    "How can someone be stronger than GOD?!"


    "Well, this isn''t something I''m sure of, but I''ve heard it from the local preachers... a rank beyond the Rukh¡­ the Araaf. The Diviner of The Book."


    He paused for a moment, feeling lightheaded just from mentioning the Title.


    "The True Sultan is supposed to be one. A Cosmic Emperor who governs everything and writes the Laws themselves... but again, I can''t say for sure, so don''t take my word on that."


    The girls stared at him, their expressions a mix of awe, fear, and wonder.


    "Can... can we be one of them?"


    Safira''s question would''ve beenughed at by anyone else, but Malik?


    No. He would never. After all... his goal wasn''t so different.


    "...It is possible. If you''re brave enough to walk the path. Talented enough to ascend. Lucky enough to live. But remember, every stepes with a cost. Aether is a gift..."


    His words took pause as he closed his eyes, seemingly remembering something, then continued as he opened them back up:


    "But it demands much in return... too much at times."


    Noticing his hurt, Jasmine did the same as earlier, asking about whatever came to mind.


    She couldn''t have the insensitive Safira say anything that''d further ruin his mood.


    "What about monsters? Do they use Aether too?"


    His expression darkened slightly.


    "Yes, but not like us. Monsters are bound to the Cursed Hierarchy. And they don''t just have one Aether Core¡ªthey have many, which makes them much strongerpared to us, especiallyter on."


    He then went on to describe the stages, from the rtively weak Faryad to the Div, the ?¨¡ghiya, the Simurgh, the Zahhak, and finally, the Godlike Ahriman. 1


    The girls listened intently, their faces now showing more fascination than fear.


    And when he finished, Safira leaned back, grinning.


    "I think I know what I want to be."


    Malik raised an eyebrow.


    "Oh?... And what might that be?"


    She puffed out her chest.


    "I want to be a Sahir and master the Life element! That way, I can heal you whenever you get hurt."


    Malik smiled, his heart warming at her innocence.


    It seemed that he totally forgot what happened just a few minutes ago.


    "A noble choice!"


    Jasmine tugged at his sleeve again, her voice quieter but no less determined.


    "I want to be like you. A Dune Guardian."


    Her decision caught him off guard.


    "...Are you sure?


    Malik knelt to meet her gaze.


    "The desert is a harsh path."


    Jasmine nodded.


    "But I don''t want fire. I want ice. Opposites working together¡ªthat''d be cool, right?"


    "..."


    For a moment, he said nothing, lost in thought.


    Then, he ced a hand on her shoulder, tapping it.


    "Jasmine... You''ve got the spirit of a true Magi."


    She beamed at him and her friend as theirughter rang through the forest.


    ''Safira doesn''t seem like it at times, but...''@@novelbin@@


    He joined them, letting out a few chuckles of his own.


    ''They really are kids...''


    The world remained dull, but these two retained their true colors. Blindingly bright.


    ''Good kids.''


    [Faryad] - Youngling


    (Cry or Call, representing their nascent stage and growing potential.)


    [Div] - Fiend


    (Demon or Devil in Persian folklore, embodying chaos and malevolence.)


    [?¨¡ghiya] - Tyrant


    (Tyrant in the Arabguage, representing overwhelming dominance and destructive power.)


    [Simurgh] - Behemoth


    (Legendary Bird of Persian Mythology, symbolizing wisdom, mystery, andmanding presence.)


    [Zahhak] - Chaos


    (Commander of Demons in Persian mythology, a snake of chaos embodying the power to warp reality.)


    [Ahriman] - Mythic


    (Personification of Destruction and Evil in Persian mythology/Bible, a cosmic force that predates Creation itself.)

 Chapter 61 Change The World

    After they had their fun, Malik stood up and headed back to the route.


    "H-Hey!"


    Safira skipped towards him and held his hand.


    "You still didn''t tell us! How do we start?!"


    Jasmine did the same but only tugged at his sleeve.


    "Yes... how?"


    He nced at them and then continued walking.


    "Well, there''s only one way, and that''s by unlocking your mutation... activating the core..."


    Before they could reply to his words, he held a finger to his lips.


    "Actually, hold that thought."


    Malik untied a bundle of Scrolls from his belt.


    The girls exchanged curious nces, Safira leaning in from his left while Jasmine peered from his right, her head tilted just enough to see what he was doing.


    Heid the first of the Scrolls out carefully on his palm, its edges curling from being tucked away for so long.


    "What''s that?"


    "Magic homework?"


    Safira and Jasmine asked back to back, their eyes gleaming with the same curiosity.


    Malik shook his head.


    "Not exactly. These are Scrolls¡ªmediums of Aether. I didn''t realize it before, but they contain ability paths. Think of them like... maps for Aether. Each one shows a different path through the body, like the trails we''re following right now, but y''know, for your ability."


    The one he revealed had a drawing of a human figure with thousands of lines crisscrossing its frame.


    "Let''s see here."


    He traced them with a finger, his brow furrowing.


    It had the same generalyout as a usual ability path...


    "Wait."


    Or so he thought at first.


    The Pathing had major intricate differences.


    "Mhmmm."


    Malik began to switch from one Scroll to another, seemingly on the cusp of realizing something.


    He scanned them from top to bottom, disappointed each time, but then suddenly...


    "Huh."


    His hands paused, roughly clutching the Scroll.


    There was no mistaking it.


    The lines on this one were strikingly simr to his own ability path.


    "Would you look at that..."


    Safira leaned closer, her nose almost touching the parchment.


    "What? What is it?"


    "This path..."


    Malik showed it to her.


    "It''s almost exactly like mine. But see here?"


    He gestured to a tiny, subtle, barely noticeable, curve of lines near his shoulders.


    "This part had a two-line detour. It was removed. The flow was optimized."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall exploded once more, a seeminglymon urrence by now.


    But this time the energy was different.


    It wasn''t outrage but shock, disbelief, and an expectation fulfilled.


    "No. Fucking. Way."


    "Did he just¡ª?"


    "Wait... really?!"


    "That''s Path Optimization! No way he just guessed that!"


    "A high-level technique!"


    "Didn''t they only start teaching that after you be a Jinn?!"


    "And it''s not in any beginner Grimoire, let alone that ''dummies'' one he read!"


    "I had to get drilled on that for months!"


    "Same! And he just figured it out on his own?!"


    "This is him, right? The same guy who was eating breadcrumbs off the floor not long ago?"


    "Yeah!"


    Zafar yelled, throwing his arms up, joining the tide of dumbasses.


    "Cyrus called him trash; he''s no prodigy. So are we sure he''s never been trained? The Holy Relic might be lying to us."


    Noor''s throne dipped back as she leaned into it, her face a disy of suspicion.


    "It... is somewhat ridiculous. Even for him. This is... this is like someone who''s never held a sword inventing fencing techniques."


    "Ridiculous?!"


    Azeem was on his feet now, practically shouting, his face all smiles.


    "It''s impossible! That''s YEARS of research condensed into one moment; the subtlety alone requires¡ªugh, don''t even get me started! And the Sultan just stumbles onto it in the middle of a forest while babysitting kids?!"


    Though his words were of surprise, they were dripping with something else too¡ªpride.


    If his face didn''t make it obvious enough, he quite enjoyed seeing their reactions to the one he once proudly served.


    And he wasn''t the only one puffing his chest over this.


    Both Safira and La, who stayed quiet throughout, couldn''t help but reveal soft smiles.


    Yes, he''d done them unspeakable evil, but for now, this moment, before it all went down...


    They wanted to appreciate him.


    Show off a little.


    "Maybe the Former Sultan was wrong, and he really is a genius!"


    Someone from the back shouted.


    "Or a liar!"


    Another voice chimed in.


    "Do you think he''s actually been trained and just faking this whole ''clueless beggar'' act?"


    "You can''t rewrite cognitive function, you idiot!"


    "And why''d he even fake it? What does he gain from hiding this kind of skill?!"


    "Maybe the relic is doing it!"


    "Or maybe that Grimoire was some special edition!"


    Roya looked at the crowd with nk eyes.


    "You all realize that the Former Sultan''s words still hold true, right? He said that the Sultan has ''brains...'' Please think before you speak."


    Noor snorted.


    "A special edition? What''s next? A self-writing Grimoire?"


    Azeem joined in the bashing of the dumbasses, enjoying Zafar''s embarrassed face.


    "Oh, yeah, sure, let''s me the parchment! Clearly, it''s the trees'' fault he''s a better Magi than most of us. Oh, wait¡ªno, no, it''s the oxygen we breathe! Yes, that''s it, brilliant deduction! And for the record¡ª"


    Before he could even finish his sentence, La suddenly burst intoughter¡ªloud, unrestrained, and utterly contagious.


    The sound rang out, drawing every eye in the hall.


    It was a sight that shocked most, as it didn''t match her demeanor at all¡ªdressed head-to-toe in ck attire, one of mourning, and looking all serious a second ago.@@novelbin@@


    "Oh, this is rich!"


    She gasped between breaths.


    "You''re all scrambling to know the ''how,'' forgetting that you''ve been outssed by a man who probably thought ''Path Optimization'' was just a fancy term for a shortcut!"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The hall shut itself up.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik shut his eyes and let out a slow breath, focusing hard as he started channeling his Aether within.


    It mimicked the path on the Scroll.


    Almost instantly, he felt it¡ªhis veins tingling as it surged differently than what he was used to.


    It was faster, smoother, cleaner.


    But of course, that wasn''t all.


    It was rougher, more dangerous; the control he usually had... felt tenuous.


    He also noticed a level of bacsh that wasn''t there before¡ªa sharp, biting resistance that made him wince.


    Whatever changes the author of this Scroll had made weren''t as subtle as they might''ve seemed.


    Not at all.


    They had stripped the ability path of its natural safeguards, recing stability with unfiltered efficiency.


    It wasn''t just a high-level technique; it was a gamble.


    A delicate dance between speed, power, control, and the ever-looming threat of self-destruction.


    "...Interesting."


    Malik opened his eyes, a slow grin spreading across his face.


    "You clever bastard."


    "Who''s clever?"


    Safira asked, tilting her head.


    "Whoever made this."


    He held up the Scroll.


    "They saw the flow and figured out how to... tweak it. Just a bit. Makes the element st. Faster. Stronger."


    Jasmine leaned in, her small fingers brushing the edge of the parchment.


    "Can we learn it too?"


    He rolled the Scroll back up and slipped it under his armpit.


    "Nah, this technique is a no-go. Way too dangerous."


    With that, he went back to work, picking through the rest like he was shopping for fruit at the Thursday market.


    He tested each with a quick spark of Aether, sifting through what felt decent and what was in trash.


    Most? Unremarkable. Basic stuff. Useful, but nothing he could use as studying material.


    Except a few caught his eye¡ªhealing scrolls, judging by the soothing vibe they gave off.


    And, of course, the one that mirrored his own ability.


    Once he''d checked them all, he packed the rejects back into his belt.


    "Alright, pay attention. Safira, these are yours."


    He handed her the healing scrolls.


    "You said you wanted the healing element, right? These should give you a head start. Just don''t go ying doctor until you''ve got the hang of it."


    She grinned, absolutely beaming as she hugged them to her chest.


    "I won''t! But just you wait¡ªI''m gonna be the best healer ever. You''ll see."


    Malik turned to Jasmine, handing her the scroll with the optimized path.


    "And this one''s yours, Jasmine. It''s not beginner-friendly, but I think you can handle it."


    Her eyes went wide as she gingerly took the Scroll like it might bite her.


    "You mean... it''s like yours?"


    "Yep. Ember''s Touch is the same for all elements. But it''s got its own twist. You''ll see."


    The girls stared at their Scrolls in awe, already brimming with questions.


    But before they couldunch into a million of them, Malik held up a hand.


    "Hold on, let me exin something first."


    He stopped walking and crouched down to their level.


    "As I said, these paths¡ªthey''re instructions for your Aether. It''s like drawing a picture in your head, except the lines aren''t just lines. They''re how Aether flows through your veins, through your nerves, even down to your fingertips."


    Safira raised a hand like she was in school.


    "So we''re drawing with our insides?"


    Malik snorted.


    "Sort of. But it''s not just drawing. You''ve gotta practice. A lot. It''s called Pathing, and trust me, it''s not easy. You mess it up, and you might end up with a nosebleed¡ªor worse."


    Jasmine frowned.


    "Worse? Like what?"


    "Eh, you''ll be fine."


    Malik quickly waved it off, worried that he''d make her cry if he said anything more.


    "Just don''t overdo it."


    Safira looked at her Scroll, her face scrunched in concentration.


    "So we have to memorize them?"


    "Yes. They have to get stuck in here."


    He tapped the side of his head.


    "That''s your job for now. When we find a good spot to camp¡ªlike a cave¡ªI''ll help you activate your cores. Your ''fun'' will begin then."


    The girls nodded, their excitement bubbling over into giggles.


    Malik couldn''t help but smile too as he stood up and continued walking.


    "Alright, let''s move out. Keep those scrolls safe. And don''t go trying anything until I say so."


    Safira saluted.


    "Yes, Sir!"


    Jasmine just tugged on his sleeve again.


    "You''ll show us everything, right?"


    He looked at her, then at the horizon.


    "Everything I know... And hopefully, a few things I don''t."


    With that, they set off; the two girls already absorbed in their scrolls.


    ''...I don''t know when or how... but these two are going to change the world someday.''

 Chapter 62 His Smile

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall, still buzzing from the Path Optimization bombshell, was finally starting to chill.


    Most of the Magi were either muttering among themselves or had their faces stuck somewhere between disbelief and grudging admiration.


    "Alright, fine."


    Noor groaned, rubbing her temples like she was fighting off a migraine.


    "Maybe the Sultan''s a fuckin'' prodigy. Whatever. Can we all agree we''ve wasted enough brainpower freaking out over this?"


    Her pride was clearly taking a massive hit.


    She''d always thought she had him beat in this department¡ªeasily.


    Especially after finding out about his whole Return By Death thing.


    She''d chalked up his sess to him abusing the Hell out of that "cheat."


    Becausee on, how could someone with infinite retries not just brute-force their way to the top?


    But here he was, making her precious system¡ªthe one that practically handed her all the theoretical knowledge on a silver tter¡ªlook like a child''s toy.


    The nerve.


    "That''s one way to put it."


    Zafar snorted, crossing his arms.


    "But yeah, whatever. I''m done. Let''s just move on before I blow a fuse."


    Azeem chuckled, finally looking like he could breathe after the mess that just unfolded.


    "d to see we''vee to terms with the idea that a ''clueless Sultan'' just redefined what a Magi should be. Nothing humbling about that at all~."


    His sarcasm was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Noor shot him a re that promised death if he didn''t shut up, her dark eyes screaming the words, "Say one more word, I dare you."


    Roya, who''d been quiet for most of the argument, opened her mouth, about to add something...


    [My Lady.]


    But then¡ªshe froze.


    Mid-breath.


    Mid-sentence.


    Her eyes darted around for a split second andnded on a hooded figure in the crowd.


    [The one you assigned to attempt the Sultan''s timingbination during core absorption...]


    The figure''s telepathic voice paused for a moment, seemingly still in disbelief.


    [He just seeded... The results are incredible.]


    Roya''s stomach flipped.


    ''No way.''


    For a fraction of a second, her calm exterior cracked, her eyes widening slightly before she mmed her mental walls back into ce.


    [...Share this with the rest and begin buying cores en masse. Just don''t make it obvious.]


    [Understood!]


    Straightening up, she fought to keep herposure, her mind racing.


    ''That kid actually pulled it off?''


    ''Just some nobody on death''s row?''


    ''Was it that easy?''


    The implications were staggering.


    ''...Should I tell them? Or keep it under wraps?''


    Her gaze darted over the hall, lingering on Azeem and Noor¡ªthe ones who had pushed her to run the test in the first ce.


    ''No. They''ll find out eventually, and when they do, they''ll dere war on my monopoly. Can''t have that. Besides, it''s better to stay ahead of the storm.''


    Taking a deep breath, she spoke, her voice cutting through the lingering murmurs:


    "Azeem. Noor."


    Both turned to her, eyebrows raised.


    "You wanted proof, right?"


    Her lips curled into a sharp smile, one that didn''t quite reach her eyes.@@novelbin@@


    "Well, congrattions. My camp just confirmed it. Someone sessfully replicated Malik''s timing during his core absorption¡ªand it works."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    For a second, there was absolute silence.


    Then¡ª


    "WHAT?!"


    Noor practically roared, her throne wobbling as she bolted upright.


    "Are you kidding me?!"


    Zafar''s jaw dropped so hard it looked like it might hit the floor.


    "...I thought so."


    Azeem, who she expected to be most surprised, appeared to be expecting such news.


    The rest though? Not so much.


    "Get to the market!"


    "Buy an Aether Core now!"


    "Out of the way!"


    "Move it, move it!"


    "We''re not getting left behind on this!"


    They erupted once more, and it wasn''t just yelling this time around.


    Half the Magi in the hall scrambled for the exits, practically tripping over each other in their haste to leave.


    "You heard her! Go! Get as many cores as you can carry and start testing this immediately!"


    Azeem joined the chaos, barking orders at his camp while still sitting on the ground.


    "Why are you still sitting here?! GO!"


    Stay tuned for updates on My Virtual Library Empire


    Noor was no better, snapping at her subordinates.


    Zafar''s yes-men, meanwhile, were already halfway out the door, shouting over each other.


    "I''m not waiting around for you idiots!"


    "First one to confirm it gets free drinks for a week!"


    "You think I''ll risk my life for fucking drinks?!"


    In less than ten minutes, the massive hall was nearly empty, save for a thousand or so Magi who either didn''t have the resources to act or were too stubborn to follow the crowd.


    Though a rare few of those were also more interested in the projection before them than a quick powerup.


    "Well, that escted quickly..."


    La had a faint smile tugging at her lips.


    "You realize you just caused a stampede, right?"


    Roya, still perfectlyposed, gestured to the now-spacious room.


    "That''s why I told them."


    La''s smile widened.


    "Fair enough."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    A fire crackled softly in the quiet night, the only sound breaking the stillness of a t in.


    Malik sat cross-legged, watching the mes dance as Safira and Jasmine slept soundly on either side of him, both their headsid on hisp.


    He watched them for a moment, his gaze soft, before it shifted to the side.


    There, just outside the glow of the fire, sat a boy.


    Small, maybe just a year younger than Safira, with messy crimson hair and an expression he had memorized.


    One that would''ve lit up his darkest days.


    ''...Sinbad.''


    Malik blinked, his chest tightening.


    It was his little brother.


    The same one he buried not too long ago.


    For a while, Malik didn''t say anything.


    He just stared, his throat bing dry.


    The firelight flickered over the boy''s face, making him look... real.


    Like he''d always been there.


    It was weird.


    "...Do you like them?"


    Malik finally asked, his voice low and careful, like he might scare him off.


    "..."


    There was no answer.


    Of course, there wasn''t.


    He knew this wasn''t real.


    It couldn''t be.


    Sinbad was gone, buried in the cold earth.


    This was an illusion, a trick of his mind.


    But still, he couldn''t stop himself.


    "They remind me of you."


    His voice was as delicate as could be.


    "Safira''s all fire and energy¡ªkinda like you can be sometimes. Jasmine, though... well, she''s not as much of a stuttering mess as you, but hey, she''s getting there~."


    His lips quirked into a sad smile.


    "It''s like... I''m seeing bits of you in them."


    "..."


    "It makes me miss you so much... you don''t understand."


    "..."


    "You and Huda. It''s not fair, you know?"


    "..."


    "You should''ve had more time. Both of you should have."


    "..."


    "I wish... I wish I could''ve done more for you. Been more."


    Heughed lightly, though there was no joy in it, just a hollow ache.


    "You''d have liked them."


    Talking like this...


    "Safira would''ve dragged you into all kinds of trouble, and Jasmine would''ve just rolled her eyes and cleaned up after you two."


    It felt good.


    Like the weight in his chest was just a little lighter.


    And yet... it was never that easy, was it?


    "So, they''re my recement, huh?"


    A bitter voice cut through the air.


    His head snapped toward Sinbad, his heart skipping a beat.


    The boy''s face wasn''t soft anymore.


    His features twisted into something unrecognizable, demonic.


    His bright crimson hair darkened to blood red, his grin curling into something cruel.


    His pink eyes began to bleed, and his neck was cut, flowing down blood like a waterfall.


    "No!"


    Malik stood, sending both Jasmine and Safira away, their heads hitting the dirt.


    His hand reached out as if he could grab him, hold him, fix whatever this was.


    "No one could rece you! No one!"


    But the illusion didn''t care.


    It didn''t listen.


    It existed to torment him.


    Sinbad''s figure dissolved into the shadows, melting away before his outstretched hand.


    And then he was gone.


    Malik stood there, frozen, his arm still reaching for nothing.


    His chest heaved, and for a moment, he thought he might let the tears fall.


    But none did.


    They weren''t even there.


    "Hah..."


    Slowly, he let his hand drop.


    His gaze shifted back to the fire and then to the two small forms that somehow didn''t wake up.


    Safira and Jasmine.


    They were just kids.


    Kids who''d gotten stuck with him.


    Kids who must be his responsibility, nothing more.


    "I... I have no right to enjoy my time with them."


    His voice was barely audible, but it was heard louder than anything else.


    And with that, he sank back down, staring at the mes until sleep imed him.

 Chapter 63 Relief

    ***


    {Capital City Of The Inside, The Holy Land}


    {Al-Sayf Mansion}


    Huda sat in the middle of her bed, her knees pulled up to her chest, head buried between them.


    Her room was dark, save for the glow spilling in from the massive projection outside the window to her left. Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire


    It lit up the skyline like a thirteenth moon, showing Malik standing by a fire, looking... well, wrecked.


    His thoughts drifted through the open air, soft but cutting, a whisper she couldn''t escape.


    She peeked up at it, her chest twisting as she caught his expression¡ªthe hollow look in his eyes, the way his hand reached out for someone who wasn''t there.


    "Sinbad... I''m sorry."


    The name hit her hard, hanging heavy in her mind, just like it had in his, only ten times less.


    Slowly, Huda squeezed her eyes shut, the sting behind them threatening to spill over.


    "He thinks that''s what Sinbad would''ve wanted..."


    Not with sadness, but anger.


    Anger she couldn''t aim at anyone, not even herself, because it just... was.


    "That cutting himself off, shutting everyone out, and drowning in guilt is some kind of tribute."


    Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms hard enough to sting.


    "What an idiot."


    The words were bitter, biting, but they felt... meaningless.


    Just like everything else.


    Because deep down, she couldn''t stop thinking it.


    ''He''s doing the same thing I''m doing.''


    The parallel wasn''t lost on her.


    She could see it as in as day.


    Malik, who she thought had healed even a little since that ursed day, hadn''t changed at all.


    ...No, that wasn''t it.


    If anything, he''d gotten worse.


    The cracks he used to hide so well were nowid bare for anyone to see, and such a scene was even harder to stomach.


    Though the reasons were as far as life was from death, both were...


    Both were broken.


    Both isted themselves.


    Both let guilt eat them alive.


    Both pretended that shutting out the world would somehow make things better.


    That it was the answer to their guilt.


    Wrong.


    It didn''t make anything better.


    Huda knew that.


    She knew it because she was living it¡ªright here, in this room, in this suffocating darkness.


    Alone.


    And the Malik from back then probably knew it, too.


    But both still did it anyway.


    The reason was simple.


    They just didn''t know any other way to cope.


    "You think...


    Her head snapped up, her re locking onto the projection outside.


    "You think Sinbad would''ve wanted this?"


    She couldn''t tell if those words were meant for him or herself.


    "You think he''d want you to sit there, wallowing in guilt, instead of actually living?"


    Her chest tightened even more, her breathing out shaky.


    She hated that she could see it so clearly now¡ªhated how it made everything moreplicated.


    The betrayal she''d clung to.


    The hurt that felt like it could swallow her whole¡ªit all felt muted now.


    It was hard for her to loathe him, so very hard.


    She wanted to.


    God, she wanted to so badly.


    But she just... couldn''t.


    Malik''s unreasonable guilt, his istion, his belief that this was somehow right¡ªshe hated it not only because it was a mirror of her own but also because it gave her a reason.


    A reason not to loathe him.


    One she so adamantly wanted to reject, but like her ''righteous'' anger, she couldn''t.


    Her emotions were no longer hers to control.


    It made her chest ache in a way that felt unfair.


    Like he''d taken something from her without even realizing it.


    And so, it was only natural that it drained out of her, leaving something aching behind.


    "Sinbad would''ve wanted you to be happy, you idiot."


    The words spilled out even though they felt futile.


    "He wouldn''t have wanted this."


    She choked on the lump in her throat, burying her face back into her knees once more.


    "He wouldn''t have wanted any of this."


    The truth of it was so obvious it hurt.


    "I know that... I know it."


    But again, knowing didn''t make it easier.


    It didn''t stop the guilt, or the pain, or the endless spiral of what-ifs.


    Outside, the projection kept ying, disying Malik''s descent into madness.


    "Big brother... forgive me... forgive me for k-killing you."


    Huda squeezed her eyes shut tighter as if that could block out the sound.


    The truth of what they both couldn''t let go.


    ***


    {Holy Pce, Sultan''s Hall}


    Safira stared at the projection as if just woken up from a dreamless sleep.


    She blinked a few times, barely breathing, watching him from under hershes.


    Now she knew why...


    Why he changed.


    It all started clicking into ce right in front of her.


    The careful, gruff, but easygoing teacher.


    The sarcastic but protective older brother figure.


    This Malik was... gone.


    He went somewhere else, far away, hidden deep, never to return.


    After this point, he''d no longer stare at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle.


    He''d stop pressing her about the weird things she said or did.


    She''d brushed it off at the time, but now¡ªwatching him like this¡ªit made sense.


    Malik had stopped caring about them, or rather, he forced himself to stop.


    He was protecting himself.


    Safira swallowed hard, guilt ying with her insides.


    ''I thought it was because of me.''


    She thought maybe her slip-ups had shaken him.


    Maybe her being... different was too much for him to handle.


    But no, it wasn''t her.


    It was something else entirely.


    Someone else.


    Sinbad. The ghost who haunted him.


    Huda. The "Coward," who had run.


    That was why Malik had changed.


    Not because of her.


    Because of them.


    Yes. Them.


    Safira''s hands curled into fists under the eyes of many.@@novelbin@@


    A part of her¡ªan ugly, selfish part¡ªfelt something she hated herself for feeling.


    Relief.


    She hated it.


    Hated that she was d.


    Hated the way her chest felt lighter.


    Hated that some ugly part of her thanked God that it wasn''t her.


    But at the same time, she couldn''t help it.


    Malik''s change wasn''t her fault.


    It was theirs.


    And that brought her relief like nothing else.

 Chapter 64 Owl

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Days blurred into seconds, weeks into minutes.


    The early mornings crept in like sneaky little thieves, robbing the night of its quiet despair and dumping them into yet another day of trudging south.


    Crunching grass.


    The screeches of monsters in the distance.


    And, every now and then, the blood-curdling scream of some poor Seeker biting off more than they could chew.


    That was their soundtrack.


    Malik was always the first one up, moving before the Shams even had a chance to wake up.


    His steps were lighter now¡ªnot in a carefree way, but in a way that spoke of his cowardice.


    His eyes were fixed on the horizon as if it held all the answers he''d been searching for.


    Behind him, Jasmine and Safira dragged their feet, noses buried in their Scrolls like zealots reading their holy scripture.


    Every second of them not talking was an extra second to memorize every damn line.


    Not because they wanted to, no, not at all.


    They were long past the honeymoon period.


    It had gotten boring to say the least.


    Now, they only did it because they had to.


    And it was also used as a way to escape their current... mood?


    Right, mood.


    Yet no amount of studying couldpletely distract them from that.


    Malik was obviously different.


    They''d noticed it the first morning¡ªhow could they not?


    But saying it out loud? Acknowledging it?


    That felt like the kind of move that might just snap the thread holding him together.


    So, they yed dumb.


    Pretended not to see it.


    Hoped, prayed, wished that if they ignored it long enough, it''d disappear like a bad dream.


    But dreams didn''tst forever, and after enough time passed, reality hit.


    They couldn''t keep pretending.


    They wanted to ask him.


    Wanted to just rip down the wall he''d built around himself.


    Demand answers.


    But every time they got close, all it took was one look at his face to stop them cold.


    That look? Yeah, that look wasn''t something they were equipped to handle.


    Their courage just crippled when against it.


    Jasmine''s brows pulled together, twitching like they were begging her to do something.


    Say something. Anything. Yet she did nothing, only stared at her Scroll.


    Safira? She didn''t share her struggle.


    Well, at least not in the visual department.


    Her eyes were practically drilled into the back of his head.


    Her lips parted like she was about to say something¡ªonly to snap shut again.


    The cycle repeated a few times before she gave up, her frustration bubbling over.


    Leaning closer to Jasmine, she hissed under her breath, finally letting the words out:


    "...What''s with him? He''s... different."


    Jasmine nced at her, her own unease mirrored hers, in as day on their faces.


    "I don''t know. But¡­ it''s like he''s not here anymore."


    Their voices were low, cautious, yes, but Malik didn''t miss a word.


    Still, that didn''t mean he''d react.


    Hell, even if they had screamed at him, he probably wouldn''t have given them any mind.


    His face stayed nk, eyes scanning thendscape without truly seeing it.


    And thatck of reaction¡ªthat answer¡ªhit harder than anything he could''ve said.


    After all, what was the feeling furthest from love? Indifference.


    It wasn''t just frustrating; it hurt.


    "Did we¡­"


    Safira''s voice cracked as she hesitated.


    "Did we do something wrong?"


    Jasmine''s heart clenched at the sound of it... the vulnerability.


    She reached out, resting a hand on Safira''s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze.


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    "I don''t think it''s us. It wouldn''t make sense if it was. But¡­"


    She bit her lip, her gaze dropping.


    "I don''t know how to fix it either."


    Safira turned her eyes back to Malik.@@novelbin@@


    Ahead of them, his figure stood tall, shadow stretching long under the morning light.


    And yet, it felt like he was slipping further and further away.


    Helplessness curled up in their guts.


    Silence screamed louder than anything else.


    Too scared to reach him, no matter how badly they wanted to.


    This tension between the three of them was almostical if it wasn''t so damn heavy.


    "I just... I wish he''d tell us what''s wrong."


    Jasmine''s gaze flicked toward Malik again.


    "Maybe he doesn''t know how. Maybe he thinks it''s easier this way."


    "Easier for who?"


    Safira''s words came out sharp.


    "Because it''s definitely not easier for us."


    Jasmine didn''t reply.


    What could she even say to that?


    She didn''t have the answers.


    Neither of them did.


    And any words she coulde up with felt empty.


    So silence stretched between them again until Safira finally let out a sigh.


    "...Fine"


    She yanked a Scroll out from her belt.


    The enchanted parchment unrolled with a soft shimmer.


    "Might as well do something productive."


    Jasmine nodded as she pulled out her own Scroll.


    The two of them fell into their usual rhythm, studying as they walked.


    Their eyes scanned the lines.


    Their lips moved silently, muttering directions, trying tomit the Path to memory.


    For a while, the world around them blurred out of focus.


    They escaped¡ªignored the ache in their chests.


    The million questions they weren''t ready to ask.


    But because they were so focused on that, they almost missed it.


    What they needed most besides Malik''s validation.


    A mountain.


    There it was, sitting not too far off in the distance.


    It loomed, jagged peaks stretched like ws aimed at the sky.


    By then, the air had cooled, and the light was dipping lower, casting long shadows across the grassy ground.


    ...Finally. Progress.


    Finally, something that made the whole miserable journey feel just a little worth it.


    They were almost upon a cave; they could FINALLY ascend!


    Safira''s heart jumped, and she almost let out a cheer.


    But one nce at Malik''s face stopped her dead.


    "...Hey~ we''re about to..."


    Jasmine noticed it after her, though she, unlike her little friend, barely reacted.


    Atleast not outwardly.


    "Y-yeah, yeah¡ª"


    "Quiet."


    At that word, both of them shared a quick look, their excitement dimming.


    This wasn''t a celebratory moment.


    Not even close.


    For whatever reason, the mood was off¡ªway off.


    And it wasn''t because he shut them up.


    No, it felt like the world itself waited for something to explode.


    Malik''s whole demeanor screamed danger.


    His shoulders were locked up tight, his steps heavy like he was bracing for a fight, and his eyes darted left and right like something was stalking them from up above.


    "What''s with him now?"


    Jasmine didn''t answer Safira''s mutter, her focus entirely on Malik.


    But before the blonde could say more, a strong gust of wind came out of nowhere.


    It whipped through the terrain, kicking up dust and sending their clothes pping like mad.


    Malik paused mid-step, his body freezing like he''d been hit with a spell.


    His hand shot to the hilt of his shamshir, clutching it, knuckles turning white.


    Shudders racked his body, each one feeling like a herald of death.


    "What''s going on?!"


    Safira''s voice was barely a whisper, quickly followed by Malik''smand:


    "Stay close."


    His tone was as t as could be.


    He didn''t even nce back, eyes locked upward.


    Another gust ripped through the area, stronger this time, sending dirt and pebbles flying.


    And then they saw it¡ªa massive shadow cutting across the ground.


    Safira gasped, instinctively stepping closer to Jasmine.


    "Is that a...?"


    Malik''s grip on the shamshir tightened further, his jaw clenching so hard it ached.


    He was braced, ready for whatever fresh nightmare was about to drop on them.


    The shadow circled once overhead before descending.


    And when its owner came into view, the tension in Malik''s body didn''t ease¡ªbut it shifted.


    ...Confusion.


    It wasn''t fear or anticipation of an attack anymore.


    It was utter confusion.


    Like Safira, he expected a Roc.


    One ready to tear them apart.


    Instead, he got... an owl.

 Chapter 65 Regret

    Right, an owl.


    Not just any owl, though¡ªno.


    It wasn''t the type Malik saw in those merchant caravans.


    This one was massive, its shadow doing it a disservice.


    It easily dwarfed them all with its frame, its eye as big as he was tall.


    Its feathers shimmered like metal, rich crimson with streaks of white around its beak and its horn-like plumicorns.


    The owl was regal in a way he couldn''t quite describe.


    As if it belonged in some divine pce, not the wilds.


    Its eyes were the most unsettling part¡ªhuge, unblinking, and bright pink.


    It tilted its head, its gaze sweeping over them with a curiosity that felt almost human.


    Safira clutched Jasmine''s arm.


    "What the hell is that?!"


    Neither of them answered.


    Malik''s hand stayed on his shamshir, but he didn''t draw it.


    The owl let out a soft hoot and then, with a slow p of its massive wings...


    Whoosh!


    It ascended, disappearing into the sky as quickly as it hade.


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The silence it left behind was deafening.


    For a moment, none of them moved. None of them spoke.


    The tension broke only when Safira let out a shakyugh.


    "Seriously?... A crimson owl? I thought we were about to be lunch!"


    A grin spread across Jasmine''s face.


    "It was so cute~! Do you think the Faraja''d let us take one home? I mean, it''s basically pet material, right?"


    Safira grinned back.


    "Hehehe~ Maybe. Imagine rolling into Zawaya with that thing perched on your shoulder. Total boss move."


    Theirughter echoed across the t terrain like they were trying to convince themselves the danger had passed.


    Malik, though?


    His face showed not a single change.


    No smile, no chuckle¡ªnothing.


    He just resumed walking, his eyes resuming their scan of the skies.


    Acting as though the real threat was just waiting for them to let their guard down.


    His shoulders were hunched, his hand never straying far from his weapon.


    And then, as if promised, it happened.


    The wind picked up again, harder this time.


    It wasn''t the ''yful'' breeze that had apanied the "cute" owl.


    Nope. This wind carried weight. Malice.


    The air grew heavier, literally, pressing them down onto the ground.


    A shadow fell over them¡ªhuge, oppressive, dark.


    The hairs on the back of the girls'' necks stood up straight.


    "¡­Teach?"


    "M-Malik?"


    He didn''t respond, too busy trying to calm himself.


    His breath couldn''t help but hitch as his head snapped to the shadow''s origin.


    "Move..."


    Then, louder:


    "Move! NOW!"


    Jasmine and Safira didn''t argue.


    They bolted out of there, ducking behind a few lone trees some distance away.


    Malik, meanwhile, stayed put, nted right where he stood.


    One hand pressed on his back; the other gripped his shamshir, hovering in front of his chest.


    But, learning from thest time, he calmed his grip, knowing not to be stiff.


    The shadow circled overhead, savoring the moment.


    And then it grew.


    Bigger. Closer.


    WHOOOSH!


    The visitor made itself known.


    A Roc.


    Not just any Roc¡ªan adult.


    It was a monster in every sense of the word.


    Its wings spread wide, blotting out the sky like a stormcloud with feathers.


    Every beat of its wings sent shockwaves through the air, making the ground tremble beneath their feet.


    "That¡­"


    Safira peeked out from behind the tree, her mouth dropping open.


    "That thing''s talons are bigger than the owl from earlier!"


    She was right.


    Its talons alone eclipsed that crimson owl in size.


    They were like curved des, glinting in the fading starlight.


    ''You''ll regret... this.''


    Ah, the memory of that bastard''s final words surfaced unbidden.


    Regret.


    Yeah, he was definitely feeling that now.


    The pieces mmed into ce in his head like a fucked-up puzzle.


    His little "roughhousing" in Ghabeh hadn''t just stirred up trouble¡ªit had poked the wrong beast.


    The vers, the smugglers, the bastards, with all their smug strutting and holier-than-thou swagger, hadn''t been bluffing.


    They''d had a n, a failsafe.


    A nasty, vindictive little trap.


    One that would ensure that even in death, they could enact their revenge.


    One that was likely public knowledge, info that only he, the nobody, didn''t know.


    Malik was the sucker who''d walked right into it.


    Probably a Scroll¡ªone set to trigger the moment they bit the dust.


    Its job was to wake up the Roc nesting on top of that giant mushroom stalk in their territory.


    It was all so obvious now.


    Their arrogance, their cocky smirks¡ªit wasn''t just ego.


    They had this.


    And now?


    Well, Malik saw that regret manifest right in front of him.


    He was once their "ghost" and now they were his, though in a more literal sense of the word.


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    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc let out a deafening screech that rattled their bones.


    Its beak snapped shut with a sound like a boulder splitting in two.


    It didn''t just sound angry¡ªit sounded like vengeance.


    And Malik was the pitiful man standing on its warpath.


    SKREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    It dove, deathing straight for him.


    His brain screamed at him to move, run, dodge, SOMETHING!


    But he could not. Feeling a painful d¨¦j¨¤ vu.


    Up close, the Roc was gargantuan.


    Not just big¡ªimpossible.


    Chaos wrapped in feathers.


    A force of nature that had no business existing.


    Malevolent. Wicked. Unholy. Vile. Depraved. Fiendish.


    He could only describe it with such words.


    Truly... it was like staring at death itself.


    One that he was familiar with, having stared at it once before.@@novelbin@@


    And for a second, all Malik could do was gape like an idiot.


    "TEACHER!"


    "MALIK!"


    Yet, thankfully, their screams snapped him out of it.


    His legs finally kicked into gear, and he rushed to the side, running like his life depended on it¡ªbecause, well, it did.


    But, unfortunately, it wasn''t enough.


    The Roc moved too fast.


    Way too fast for a creature its size had any right to.


    Malik barely had time to nce back before its massive beak opened, a ck pit of doom ready to swallow him whole.


    "TEAAAAAAAAAAAACHER!"


    "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"


    Safira''s scream.


    Jasmine''s panicked shout.


    And then¡ªnothing.


    The Roc''s beak snapped shut with a horrifying, final CRACK!


    Just like that, he was gone.


    Swallowed whole.


    The world outside went silent.


    For Malik, there was nothing but suffocating, endless darkness.


    Blink.

 Chapter 66 A Stand Before Death

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall wasn''t just cold anymore¡ªit was freezing.


    Not from the temperature, of course; it was the tension.


    They were glued to the projection, their expressions a disy of awe.


    Their Sultan was ''alive'' until yesterday.


    That meant that he killed the Roc as escaping it was impossible.


    At least not with Safira and Jasmine in tow.


    He, an Al-Saif, was up against a Div, a Fiend, a monster with four Aether Cores.


    Usually, such an achievement wouldn''t be that extraordinary, but Rocs?


    Especially adult ones?


    They were something else.


    What was hard became nearly impossible.


    And the state of those who realized that reflected it.


    However... not all of them were like that.


    While they were all high-ranking Magi, it didn''t mean that they dove into Al-Fawra.


    Of course, many of them might''ve, but they had likely not gone up against a Roc.


    Those monsters weren''t somon, you see.


    In turn, that made most of the hall split into small groups.


    Distinct, each discussed different aspects of what they''d just seen.


    One particr group ignored the threatpletely.


    They were more interested in the emotional aspect.


    "Did he even sleep?"


    "No, I think he''s been cultivating instead."


    "Insane... really."


    "Guess his mind''s been upgraded by all those deaths."


    "Yeah. No Al-Saif would survive otherwise."@@novelbin@@


    "I don''t dare say that''s a good thing."


    "Me neither. Lady Safira and Jasmine were the only color in his life, and now?..."


    "Forget all that¡ªdid you see his face?"


    A woman in the middle of them hissed.


    "How can someone even look like that?"


    "It''s what happens when you lose too much."


    An older man muttered, his tone bitter.


    "You stop looking for a way back and just¡­ keep walking forward."


    A hush fell over them as Malik''s figure on the projection continued to reverse his time.


    "You think Lady Safira realized the extent of his... loss?"


    A young woman in a different group asked, voice soft.


    "That he''s willing to shut them outpletely just for it to lessen a smidge?"


    "Of course, she did!"


    "You think they''re blind?"


    "They were just too scared to do anything about it."


    "Scared?"


    The young woman echoed, frowning.


    "Why would they be scared of him?"


    A scoff came from a young man next to her.


    "You saw what he did to those vers, didn''t you? Would you want to be the one to push him?"


    "But... he saved them. How can they think that?!"


    He shook his head.


    "Emotions aren''t logical, I''m afraid. Besides that wasn''t all they thought."


    While those two went back and forth, another group, more interested in the owl, spoke loudly:


    "Was that¡­ Was that an Uluka?!"


    "No way! Didn''t they go extinct?"


    "Extinct my ass, back then they might''ve been he rare, but they were still spotted every ten or so years... Though I do admit, this color is a first."


    "I know right? Crimson and pink is extremely unusual."


    "Who cares about the color?! It''s still a monster, and they don''t just show up like that."


    "Yeah, why was it there?"


    "You think it was just passing by, or¡­?"


    "Or what?"


    Someone scoffed from the corner.


    "You think it came to warn him or something?"


    "Actually, that''s exactly what I think."


    A round of murmurs rippled through them as they went on and on.


    A round that didn''t quite reach the group next to them.


    These Magi were the loudest in the crowd, and for good reason.


    "Holy¡ª"


    "¡ªshit!"


    "That''s¡­ that''s a Roc!"


    "That''s a full-grown, pissed-off adult!"


    "Oh, they''re so screwed!"


    "Screwed? They''re past that!"


    Another barked, gesturing wildly at the projection:


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    "You see the size of that thing? Its talons could snap a whole house in half!"


    "And the Sultan?! He just stood there like an idiot!"


    "Hey, he moved eventually."


    "Yeah, after staring at it like a kid seeing a monster under his bed!"


    "What? Don''t forget he was twelve... or thirteen. I don''t know at this point."


    "Either way, seeing a Div so suddenly NATURALLY shocked him."


    "Either way, either way, he was swallowed whole. Twice now."


    "He seriously has bad luck... huh."


    The hall fell quiet again.


    Though only for a moment.


    "...Okay, but what''s the n here? How''s he supposed to go past this?"


    "Return by death, of course~."


    "I''m not asking about that you idiot!"


    "I know~ but who cares? Don''t question it and watch. We''ll know soon enough."


    A dumbass, who surprisingly stayed, sighed, sounding annoyed.


    "Great. So we''re stuck watching him die over and over until he figures it out."


    "At least it''ll be entertaining."


    Both of them earned res from those around them.


    "Entertaining?"


    "This isn''t a damn game."


    "Sure, it''s the Sultan, but he''s fighting for his life in there."


    The group fell silent... again, shame washing over them.


    And yet, as they turned their attention back to the projection, even they couldn''t deny it.


    For all the cold, the distance, the horror, the shock, the tension, and the envy.


    They were hooked.


    Because if anyone could find a way out of this mess, it was Malik.


    There was something about him that held them captive.


    Fear, maybe.


    Or perhaps just the raw, brutal humanity of someone trying¡ªand failing¡ªto hold themselves together.


    That was something special.


    And they were damn sure they weren''t going to miss a second of it.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik''s eyes shot open.


    The world snapped back into focus, and he stood in the same ce as before¡ªfeet crunching against the grass, Jasmine and Safira just behind him, their whispers barely audible.


    The faint rustle of the wind yed around them, carrying the soft coo of the crimson owl as it glided past.


    Slowly, he closed his eyes and exhaled a sigh.


    He didn''t panic; there was no room for that now.


    He turned sharply towards the little ones, his voice cold.


    "Both of you. Back away. Now."


    Jasmine blinked, startled.


    "W-W... What are you talking about?"


    Safira frowned, her brows knitting together in confusion.


    "Teach, what¡ª"


    "Move! NOW!"


    The intensity in his tone left no room for argument.


    They exchanged a brief, uncertain nce but obeyed, retreating behind a tree in the distance.


    Safira''s mouth opened, no doubt to ask another question, but Jasmine grabbed her arm, shaking her head.


    Malik didn''t exin further.


    He didn''t need to.


    The ''exnation'' they wanted was on its way.


    And he would make his stand here to wee it.


    A stand before the answer... a stand before death.


    His grip tightened on his shamshir, the familiar weight grounding him.


    The air grew heavy.


    The ground trembled beneath their feet.


    The sky parted.


    It arrived.


    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!

 Chapter 67 Charred Blade

    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc had its monstrous wings spread wide, casting a shadow over thendscape.


    Even from such a distance, every beat sent storms of wind that whipped against them.


    It forced Jasmine and Safira to their knees, the tree offering them little protection.


    They put their hands above their heads and rolled into a ball against the ground.


    Whether it''d be of help or not was questionable as they were up against that, but it still was way better than doing nothing.


    Unlike them though, Malik didn''t bother to protect himself.


    He didn''t need to.


    With what little ''protection prowess'' he had, the beast could snuff his life out in an instant.


    So instead, he focused on what his Royal Sword style worked best with.


    Evasion, feints, rapid movement.


    And this time, he was ready for battle.


    Fear no longer clouded his mind.


    SKREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    It let out another ear-splitting screech and dove straight for him.


    Last round, it yed with its ''meal'' a little, circling it, acting cocky; now, though?


    The Roc was not messing around anymore.


    It decided that its ''meal'' was served up perfectly¡ªnice and ready, standing proud on a silver te, awaiting to be enjoyed.


    Malik, of course, had other ideas.


    "It won''t end the same!"


    And just like that, his instincts took over before his brain processed what he was to do.


    He blinked to the side, and in his ce was the Roc.


    Its beak mmed into the ground with enough force to shake the earth.


    Dirt, rocks, and God knows what else exploded outward like shrapnel, pelting everything in the immediate area.


    Malik skidded across the grass, nearly eating dirt before he managed to dig his heels in and stop himself.


    His heart was hammering so hard he could hear it in his ears, and his brain was screaming a thousand different things¡ªnone of them helpful.


    "Alright... Round two."


    But he ignored all of that.


    No time for hesitation.


    No time for doubts.


    Heunched himself at the Roc, attacking it before it could get its beak out of the ground.


    "Scorched Grace."


    mes erupted from his left hand as he jumped high, leaping onto its back.


    Or at least he tried.


    Reality was not so kind.


    He missed. Badly.


    "Shit, shit, shit!"


    Malik ended up mmed into its side, scrambling for a grip on its massive feathers.


    SKREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    Disliking his tickling, it let out a furious screech, twisting and bucking to fling him off.


    But he managed to hold on, mes flickering dangerously close to scorching himself.


    Eventually, the beast seemed to pause, if only to figure out what the Hell this annoying human thought he was doing.


    Malik took the chance, letting go with one hand to reach for his shamshir.


    "Gotcha now!"


    Raising the de high, with all his strength, he drove it back down¡ª


    CLANG.


    Only for it to bounce off like he''d just whacked a steel wall.


    Not even a scratch.


    "Fuck!"@@novelbin@@


    The Roc retaliated instantly, spinning midair in a move that defied its massive size.


    "Shit¡ª"


    Malik''s grip on its feathers failed as centrifugal force did its thing, sending him flying like a ragdoll.


    His body hit the ground with a bone-crushing thud, the impact stealing the air from his lungs and lighting every nerve in his body on fire.


    Pain. Blinding, sharp, all-consuming pain.


    Before he could even think to push himself up, a shadow grewrge upon him.


    Then¡ªdarkness.


    Blink.


    The world reset.


    The crimson owl cooed softly as it passed overhead, its feathers catching the light.


    Jasmine and Safira stood behind him, their expressions confused.


    Malik didn''t hesitate.


    "Back. Now."


    "...Teach, what''s going on?"


    Safira''s voice was obviously frustrated, but Jasmine pulled her back.


    Again.


    Something in his tone cut through whatever doubt she had.


    "Good."


    He turned, his eyes already scanning the skies.


    The hum of the Roc''s approach vibrated in his chest, and he gritted his teeth.


    "Let''s try this again."


    This time, when the Roc dove, Malik didn''t just dodge.


    He countered.


    "Scorched mes."


    mes roared to life in his palm, and with a sharp thrust, he hurled a st directly at its face.


    "..."


    Yet nothing much happened.


    No explosion, no satisfying screech of pain¡ªnothing.


    His fire st looked like a mosquito bumping into a human''s hand.


    It fizzled on impact, a pathetic ember against its massive frame.


    The size difference was just that humiliating.


    But Malik wasn''t stupid¡ªhe knew his attack wasn''t going to hurt it.


    That wasn''t its purpose.


    The fire was a distraction, a smokescreen to mask his real attack.


    Just as the mes fizzled out, he emerged from behind them.


    Now, he was directly in front of the monster, just a few meters below it.


    And unlikest time, instead of dodging to the side, he continued forward and charged underneath it.


    The Roc, not expecting such a move, tore through the air above him, too fast to slow down.


    That gave Malik all the freedom he would''ve liked.


    nting his feet deep, he raised his shamshir high up, letting it scrape against its underbelly as it went by, the de trailing feathers.


    ''Where?...''


    His eyes narrowed, searching, feeling for any soft spot, any sign of weakness in the seemingly imprable armor of feathers.


    In a second, the Roc almost fully went past, its talons nearing him.


    And at that point, Malik had yet to find anything.


    The realization hit hard, but he didn''t stop.


    If there was no weakness, he''d just have to make one.


    Sssssst!


    The Roc''s talons had now reached him, slicing through the air like scythes of death.


    He wasn''t fast enough to dodge; he knew that, so instead...


    "RAAAAAAH!"


    He took a stance, shifting his de to the left while loosening up his feet.


    A beat passed, then, CLANG!


    Their weapons connected.


    Sparks flying like fireworks.


    Not for long, though.


    Malik was sent tumbling to the right, the force behind its attack proving too powerful.


    A jagged fracture snaked up the steel before the shamshir shattered in his hands.


    Yet, he barely had time to mourn the loss of his de.


    Malik''s own end was announced a secondter.


    Before he could get up, a shadow of its wings darkened all that was around him.


    Whoosh!


    He looked up and saw a blur of feathers.


    SPLAT!


    Darkness.


    Blink.


    Crimson feathers.


    Uneasy nces.


    The faint coo of the owl.


    "Move. Now."


    Malik ordered, his voice devoid of emotion.


    He didn''t look back to see if they obeyed.


    His focus was entirely on the horizon, on the Roc that woulde for him again.


    But he didn''t need to check on them.


    Jasmine nodded, pulling Safira with her toward the tree.


    The girl could easily pick up on his mood shifts, it seemed.


    "Hoohhh..."


    Malik inhaled deeply, his mind already cycling through strategies.


    Fire distracted it for a moment but didn''t even slow it down a smidge.


    His shamshir couldn''t cut through its skin, and not even its underbelly.


    He could use its force against it, plunge his de like a stake, but it wouldn''t go deeply enough to matter.


    ...This gargantuan beast might not have an exploitable weakness.


    At least none that were the least bit essible.


    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc appeared, its shadow swallowing the light.


    Again, Malik didn''t wait for it to strike first.


    "Scorched Grace."


    He sprinted forward, mes trailing from his left hand as heunched another st.


    This time his aim was better, going after its eyes.


    SKREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc screeched, twisting midair to avoid the attack.


    He used the opening to leap onto its wing, his shamshir shing at the joints.


    Nothing.


    Just a repetitive ck! ck! ck! Was heard.


    Not even its joints were steelbound.


    KAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    Malik''s grip suddenly slipped as it flipped, spun, and bucked, dislodging him outright.


    On the way down, he repeatedly stabbed his de into its flesh.


    Yet, again, not one time did he seed.


    He hit the ground hard, his vision swimming.


    The Roc''s talons descended like a guillotine.


    Darkness.


    Blink.


    Over and over, the cycle repeated.


    Each time, Malik learned something new.


    He learned how the Roc moved.


    How it anticipated his attacks.


    How it used its massive size to its advantage.


    He learned the rhythm of its strikes.


    The timing of its devastating flips.


    But each time, it wasn''t enough.


    He died, again and again, crushed, impaled, torn apart.


    Each death was brutal.


    But like always... Malik didn''t stop.


    It seemed that nothing in this world could stop him.


    He might''ve been weak rtive to his adversaries, but that spoke of his insane spirit.


    Beyond determined.


    Beyond indomitable.


    Beyond insane.


    By the tenth Blink, his movements became almost mechanical.


    "Duck left. Fireball to the eye. It spins. Leap to its wing. Climb. Aim for the spine."


    The sequence burned into his mind.


    Incredible progress for sure, but that wasn''t all.


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    Malik had chosen to sacrifice his de, knowing that victory without doing so was impossible.


    What was that sacrifice exactly?


    "Scorched Grace."


    It was simple.


    The fire, instead of just leaving it burning his palms, he could infuse it into his shamshir.


    Make the de a fiery but strong mess.


    He needed a way to pierce its defense, and this was the only way he knew of.


    Attempts one to five were all busts, but he seeded in his most previous blink.


    And now, he did so as well.


    A red me made its way around the steel, charring it ck, but not melting it.


    Malik''s lips curled into a tiny smile.


    This time, he would win.

 Chapter 68 End Of The Endless

    Malik didn''t move an inch.


    Like a statue, he stayed rooted in that stance.


    The air shifted around him, now carrying the promise of death.


    Both his hands were locked tight around his shamshir''s hilt, holding it before him.


    Its charred steel hissed and crackled with barely contained mes, the heat licking up his arms.


    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    Then, the Roc''s shadow arrived, swallowing thend around him.


    Each wing p rumbled the ground, ying with the fire he wielded.


    SKREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    It screeched a second time as it descended, opening its beak wide.


    An invitation to the afterlife.


    Not so keen on that, Malik darted to the left and jumped.


    Midair, he stabbed forward, his de shooting out a concentrated st.


    Aimed right at its freakishly huge eye.


    But then, as if following his earlier words like a script, the beast rolled before the mes could reach its weakness.


    However, unfortunately for it, the move was a bit too... fast.


    It couldn''t stabilize itself in time and its beak dipped into the ground.


    hk¡ªTHOOMPH!


    The impact was stupidly powerful¡ªchunks of dirt and rock flying all around it.


    That, in turn, slowed it down a bit, an opportunity that he did not hesitate to grasp.


    Malik bolted straight for it, timing his leap perfectly.


    "Hup!"


    His boots mmed onto the edge of its spread wing, mes roaring up his de as he quickly drove it down, straight into its flesh.


    The shamshir hit resistance¡ªlike stabbing into a tree trunk with a toothpick¡ªbut he wasn''t about to let that stop him.


    "RAH!"


    With a shout, he used all his weight, driving it deeper, twisting it viciously.


    KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc let out an ear-splitting cry of pain.


    One that might''ve sent him reeling if he hadn''t been expecting it.


    Still gripping the hilt, he poured mes of gold into the wound he''d carved out.


    They surged, charring feathers and blistering flesh, making for quite an acrid stench.


    This attack bypassed its defenses, hitting the Roc from within, causing it to thrash wildly.


    Lose control.


    Its massive form crashed into the ground with a bone-shaking BOOM!


    Though only for a moment, as its control was reimed as quickly as it was lost.


    With another p of its wings, it flew high, sending gusts strong enough to make him almost lose his grip.


    Almost.


    Because in that short moment, Malik had already begun his climb.


    Hand over hand, nearing its spine with every crawl.


    His shamshir was left behind, buried too deep to retrieve.


    At least not under such circumstances.


    Every crawl forward was a small victory.


    Closer and closer, he could feel its heartbeat through its body.


    Each thunderous THUMP vibrated beneath his hands.


    He was nearing its spine, the real prize, and he wasn''t about to stop now.


    The Roc twisted, bucked, and thrashed with the fury of a thousand storms...


    "I WON''T BE GOING ANYWHERE!"


    But Malik was stuck to it like glue, just holding on for dear life.


    Nothing was going to take him away from his ''prize,'' not even the violent wind.


    Then, just as he nearly reached its spine, which stood like a hill among the t...


    SKREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc tucked its wings and flipped aplete one-eighty.


    It headed straight down, intending to crush him with its weight.


    "Ugh..."


    Though his stomach dropped as gravity took over, he didn''t panic, not one bit.


    Malik never expected his n to go smoothly.


    Calmly, he looked at the ground below.


    It rushed toward them in a blur of greens and browns.


    ''...What now?''


    No shamshir that he could change its mind with.


    No time to climb back up, reach a more vulnerable point that it might not want to damage.


    No tool he could use to avoid bing a smear on thendscape below.


    Except¡­ maybe there was.


    ''Yeah, I just gotta generate enough force.''


    Releasing his left grip, he used its feathers like monkey bars.


    With every swing, he got further away from its massive form, inching toward the edge.


    When he finally let go, he free-fell beside it, the wind screaming in his ears.


    The ground was now upon them, reaching the Roc first.


    Crack¡ªBOOOOOOOOOM!


    The impact was cataclysmic.


    It hit the earth nearly with the force of a meteor.


    A deafening explosion of dirt, rocks, and debris, obliterating them.


    Trees splintered, the ground caved in, and for a second, it felt like the itself had flinched.


    It was that powerful.


    Malik though?


    He was about to join the same fate, testing just how durable his idea could be.


    Raising both arms, he summoned every ounce of Aether he could.


    mes roared to life in his palms as he aimed downward.


    "BLAST IT ALL!"@@novelbin@@


    With a guttural shout, he sted the ground with everything he had.


    Whoosh!


    The recoil hit like a Roc''s p, jerking him upward for a split second before the mes started to fizzle out.


    His momentum slowed, but not enough to stop entirely.


    He was falling again, faster than he wanted but slower than certain death.


    "Shit, shit, shit¡ª!"


    The ground came up to meet him, but this ''Blink'' wasn''t as catastrophic.


    Malik tucked into a roll, hisnding more of a graceless tumble than a heroic save.


    His body jarred with the impact, pain ring up his back and sides, but it wasn''t fatal.


    He came to a stop just outside the explosion''s range, sprawled out on his back.


    Dirt and debris rained down around him, the air thick with the scent of scorched earth.


    For a moment, he justy there, staring up at the sky.


    "...Okay."


    He sucked in a breath.


    "I survived."


    Kaaaaaaaw...


    The Roc screeched softly and flipped around, standing back on its talons.


    Its eyes turned towards Malik, and he soon did the same, meeting its gaze.


    They stared at each other for a long moment, a man before a hill.


    An ant before a man.


    It was an incredible scene.


    But that scene was ruined by his next words:


    "Fuck it... gotta waste them now."


    He was the type to never use an item, always thinking that it might neededter.


    In a worse circumstance, a less favorable fight.


    Now though?


    Even he saw it as necessary.


    Malik reached into his belt, pulling out multiple Scrolls.


    In his right hand, his dagger caught the light as he unsheathed it with a practiced flick. Holding it steady in front of him, he dropped into his usual stance, knees bent, weight bnced.


    The calm before the storm.


    Now, he only needed to wait.


    He didn''t have to wait long, though.


    The Roc was ready to end the battle as well.


    SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    Screeching once more, it went forth, like the world''s strongest warhorn.


    Malik stayed still, watching as it approached.


    The damn thing looked like it was going to swallow him whole in one bite.


    And maybe it would''ve if he hadn''t been ready to flip the script.


    ''Ten meters.''


    The Scrolls in his left hand began to glow, the Path etched into them ring to life.


    Two of the eight lit up instantly, their surfaces burning away as their power activated.


    What happened next was too quick for the mortal eye.


    A circle of light shed into existence above him, then another did right next to it.


    Both disyed the Ability''s Path; one was white-blue and the other a dark brown.


    CRACKLE!


    A bolt of lightning cracked through the air, striking the Roc dead center in its head.


    SKREEEEEAAAAAAW¡ª!


    The impact was so powerful it jerked to the side, its screech cutting off as its body quaked from the shock.


    Smoke curled off its feathers, and the smell of singed birds filled the air.


    But the gargantuan bird didn''t stop.


    Now it was but three meters away from its ''meal.''


    Malik didn''t look surprised by that fact.


    Rather, he seemed to find it more than eptable.


    Its beak opened wide, jagged edges glinting like giant daggers.


    ''Now.''


    Whoosh!


    The ground beneath him trembled...


    "Eat dirt."


    In a blink, a wall of jagged earth erupted from the ground, mming into open mouth.


    The resulting sound was thunderous, too loud for him to even process.


    Same for the impact. Tremors sent rippling through the field.


    Dust exploded outward, and for a moment, he couldn''t see anything.


    Though... he didn''t need to.


    The wall didn''t hold it for long.


    But again, it didn''t need to.


    Malik was already upon the Roc.


    He had rushed the downed beast and jumped; his daggerunched forward.


    "I GOT YOU NOW!"


    Before it could even process what had happened, its left eye¡ªan orb thrice Malik''s size¡ªseized function, now impaled by a dagger buried to the hilt.


    That was the target.


    The n since the beginning.


    And finally, he''d nailed it!


    Cause for celebration for sure, but Malik didn''t stick around to admire his work.


    Nope. He hopped off, not wanting to be taken on a ride again.


    The Roc staggered back for a second, unnervingly quiet.


    No screech. No cry.


    Just a low, guttural growl, almost like the thing was choking on its own fury.


    Then it snapped.


    Its talonsshed out with blinding speed, slicing through the air with such force it felt like the atmosphere itself was being torn apart.

 Chapter 69 End Of The Endless II

    At the veryst moment, Malik jumped up, limbs tucked into a tight roll mid-air.


    SSSSSSSSSSST!


    The ''des'' sliced the air above and below him as he slipped through a gap between them, barely avoiding a fate that would''ve split him into two.


    ''Holy shit!''


    His boots hit the ground in a roughnding, sending a jolt of pain up his legs.


    No time to care. No time to think.


    Malik was up again in a second, wheeling around to face the Roc.


    Its left side was a mess, blood dripping from its ruined eye, staining the earth below.


    But that didn''t slow it down.


    It was already turning, its remaining eye locked on him.


    The rage that fueled it was now gone.


    It wasn''t just trying to kill him anymore.


    It was fighting to survive.


    The Roc swiped its talons, and Malik rushed forward to meet it.


    He jumped through likest time, only to see theme back around.


    ''Fucker''s learning.''


    Malik sted the air above him, sending his body to the ground.


    Thud!


    Just as his feet touched the dirt, he weaved back, dodging the attackpletely.


    Immediately after, he went back in, closing the distance in a few steps.


    Leaping onto its wing, he unsheathed his shamshir from its flesh, instantly noticing the cracks that adorned it.


    ''Just one more big attack.''


    Taking a deep breath, he lunged forward.


    "RAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"


    With a jump, he flew up and went back down like an arrow.


    His de pierced into the spine, just behind its head.


    KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


    The Roc roughly convulsed before it cawed in extreme pain.


    Malik reveled in that pain.


    He drove the de deeper, the mes burning its flesh.


    Sizzling blood spurted from the wound, staining its brown feathers.


    "Die!"


    Malik then withdrew the de and stabbed again, his free hand clutching it for bnce.


    The Roc bucked wildly in response, but he held firm, stabbing it over and over.


    "DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIEEEEEEEEE!"


    His screams were now louder than its own, as he used all the strength he could muster, using his adrenaline rush to its fullest.


    Every stab felt like hisst, yet he never stopped, knowing what the result would be if he did.


    But then, just as he stabbed it once more, he pulled out nothing but the hilt.


    The de had broken off.


    "..."


    No sound was heard for a long moment.


    Malik, in his rage, seemed to have forgotten what he had just pointed out.


    ...He was stunned.


    That gave the Roc a break from pain.


    SKREEEEEAAAAAAW!


    Taking advantage of the free second, it let out a piercing scream, rumbling his brain.


    Its wingshed out on the ground, the wind bouncing back and throwing him up.


    Then, as he was high in the air, it flipped its body, catching him with one of its wings.


    He was smacked across the field, tumbling until he mmed into a nearby tree.


    All the air in his lungs escaped him, and he heaved hard, struggling to breathe, his vision dimming.


    Yet luck had not forsaken him entirely.


    The tree that nearly imed his life was next to the same tree that Jasmine and Safira took cover behind.


    "Malik!"


    "Teach!"


    Both screamed as they rushed towards him, their little legs working on overdrive.


    "Use this!"


    Safira crashed to the ground beside him and shoved the healing Scroll into his chest.


    Malik held her wrist and looked at her eyes.


    "...Did you memorize it?"


    Dumbfounded, Safira froze, not knowing what to say to that.


    But Jasmine, disying her bravery, screamed at him loud and clear:


    "THIS ISN''T THE TIME FOR THAT!"


    ncing at her for a moment, he shook his head and softly pushed Safira away.


    His gaze returned to the Roc.


    "I''ll take the other one... it looks like you still didn''t memorize this."


    Safira opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.


    "...Haaa."


    She gave up convincing him before she even tried and took out the other Scroll.@@novelbin@@


    This one wasn''t as good as the other, only capable of healing minor wounds, but that was enough for him.


    Just as he pressed the Scroll to his chest, a circle and an Ability Path appeared above him.


    With it came a golden light that engulfed him, immediately beginning the healing process.


    But before it could even finish, Malik forced himself to his feet, stumbling forward to his foe.


    The Roc, stabbed up and burning, wed at the ground in a desperate attempt to rise.


    Its eyes, one blinded and the other burning with hate, had again locked onto its approaching enemy.


    Malik had one leg drag behind the other, his dagger now held by both his arms.


    His breath came in ragged gasps, his body near-malfunction, but his resolve burned brighter than ever.


    "This... ends... now."


    With a final surge of strength, he charged.


    The Roc lunged and they met in the middle.


    Its beak shot forward.


    He did so as well.


    It snapped shut, aiming to mp him within.


    Malik slid under it, the beak mere inches from his face.


    "Rah!"


    He rolled onto his feet, took a step, and then jumped.


    Like a spear, he pierced into its throat.


    The dagger went deep, severing arteries and sending a torrent of blood over him.


    Kaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaww... ...


    The Roc gurgled as its lifeblood drained away.


    Yet, even then, when victory seemed cemented, Malik didn''t stop.


    He grabbed onto its feathers, and like earlier, he struck again.


    "Die..."


    And again.


    "Die."


    And again.


    "Die."


    And again.


    "Die!"


    And again.


    "Die!"


    And again.


    "Die!"


    And again.


    "DIE!"


    Each blow was fueled by the memories of his countless deaths.


    A nightmare beyond any other.


    Then... finally, just when it showed signs of copse, he bolted out from under its throat.


    The Roc dropped to the ground, creating another crater, no smaller than the others around it.


    Kaa... ...


    It convulsed onest time before falling still.


    Malik stood before its corpse, his chest heaving, his whole body dripping with blood.


    "...F-Fuck¡ª"


    He swayed, his strength leaving him as the adrenaline faded.


    "W-We got you!"


    "Malik!"


    Safira and Jasmine caught him before he could fall, their faces pale with fear.


    Though they could barely hold him up with their little bodies, they did their best, softlynding him on the ground.


    "Is it...?"


    Safira began, her voice trembling.


    "It''s dead."


    Malik confirmed the end of the endless, feeling his body dete.


    For a while, the three of them stared at the carcass.


    One so big it could be mistaken for a building made of flesh.


    Eventually though, one of them closed their eyes.


    It was Malik... epting a moment of rest.


    This time, there was no need to blink.


    He could sleep.

 Chapter 70 A Twitch

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "WOAAAAAAAAAAHH!"


    "HAHAHAHAHAH!"


    "WOOOOOOP! WOOOOOOP!"


    "LET''S FUCKING GO!"


    "LET''S GO SULTAN!"


    "HOLY SHIT!"


    "THAT WAS SO INTENSE!"


    "ALL HAIL!"


    Such screams drowned out the hall, a chaotic mess louder than any before it.


    Magi were hollering,ughing, mming fists, and even tossing drinks into the air.


    Some of them celebrated so hard you''d think they themselves had just pulled off the impossible instead of Malik.


    Hell, a few looked more hyped about his win than they''d ever been about their own sess.


    These reactions weren''t all surprising, though.


    Context mattered.


    And for the Sultan?


    Oh, this context had them all losing their minds.


    A beggar with a hidden past turned Magi, facing off against a being so gargantuan,ing out on top like it was written in the stars¡ªhow could anyone not be amped?


    Well, actually, some couldn''t be amped.


    Not everyone joined the party.


    A chunk of the crowd stayed silent, looking like they''d seen a ghost.


    A few just shook their heads, muttering to themselves like they couldn''t wrap their brains around what they''d just witnessed.


    And then there was Safira.


    "Goddamn it..."


    Her voice came out in a hiss, unheard by most.


    The woman was a standout among all that was around her.


    She paced back and forth, her feet pressing against the ground so hard like they were trying to punish it for existing.


    "So useless... I''m so useless... I didn''t even notice a thing!"


    La, who stood next to her, gave her an annoyed look.


    "Rx... just who''d expect you to figure it out? You''re no mind reader."


    Pausing her steps, Safira turned towards her friend.


    "Yeah? Well, I wish I was. Like, what if his next Blink was hisst? What if¡ª"


    "What if, what if, what if."


    La rolled her eyes.


    "It happened. It''s done. There are no what-ifs. They''ve killed my husband. Your mas¡ªteacher. The past doesn''t matter any¡ª"


    "It does."


    Safira cut in.


    "You don''t understand it now, but when your turnes, you''ll realize..."


    A shivered breath left her lips.


    "You''ll realize just how much regret a heart can hold."


    La looked at her for a long while, then turned to her camp.


    ''Regret? More than what I feel now?... I don''t think that''s possible.''


    As she did so, the "hero" muttered under his breath:


    "Fucking shit."


    He so absolutely despised how they cheered for the "viin."


    What envy he felt before was now nothing but a joke.


    The feeling gnawed at him, festering like an open wound.


    It wasn''t just the usual pang anymore¡ªit had grown, multiplying tenfold.


    Each cheer of the crowd stabbed deeper into his pride.


    If his hair hadn''t already been white, it would''ve been after this.


    No doubt he''d be sprouting a few stress-induced greys by the end of the day.


    All thanks to how much shit his mind was going through.


    Of course, all that ''shit'' was self-made and self-inflicted, but still stressful either way.


    So, he stood there, trying to y it cool, nonchnt, pretending he wasn''t fazed.


    But anyone giving him more than a passing nce could see right through it.


    His arms were clenched so tightly that blood spilled.


    The remnants of his entourage, his ever-loyal yes-men, stayed quiet as well.


    Normally, they''d be the first to jump in with a snidement to back his image.


    But right now?


    They knew better.


    And though they secretly enjoyed the spectacle, they had to toe the line.


    Their Lord''s desires came first, and right now, he had only one:


    Make Malik look bad. By any means necessary.


    A goal that seemed asughable as it was impossible.


    The crowd had already made up their minds.


    The Sultan within the projection wasn''t the same one sitting on that throne, chained up.


    No, this Malik?


    He''d wed his way out of the dirt.


    Fought and went through things they''d never have imagined before today.


    Whether they liked him or not, he wasmanding their respect.


    That realization burned hotter than anything else.@@novelbin@@


    Zafar certainly was going through it, but he was not the only one.


    Azeem sat in his usual lotus position, quiet as a mouse.


    A word one would never expect to be used to describe him.


    Noor was the same, leaning back on the throne.


    She seemed lost in thought.


    Roya, meanwhile, was busy with her camp, likely still buying up Aether Cores.


    A few belonging to La''s merchant group were with them, negotiating prices.


    The Thousand Nights Caravan held many cores in stock, after all.


    Business... pretty boring.


    Not something that''d be said about the current state of the crowd, however.


    "That actually... worked?"


    "He killed it. That madman actually killed it."


    "Yeah, after, like, what, ten deaths?"


    "Still counts, bro. Still counts!"


    Someone in the back let out a low whistle.


    "Man''s built different, huh?"


    "Built stupid, you mean, ''cause who the Hell fights a Roc at that rank?!"


    "Shut up, he had no choice but to... what? You wanted him to leave behind Lady Safira?"


    "D-Didn''t say that."


    "Then what are you trying to say? Hm?"


    "Just sayin'' that it''s insane."


    Amidst the back-and-forth, a group near the center stayed eerily quiet.


    They weren''t the loud, rowdy type.


    These were the old Magi.


    The same ones that always discussed the interactions of what was before them.


    Analytical to every degree.


    "He knew exactly what he was doing."


    "What do you mean?"


    Some junior leaned closer like they didn''t want to miss a word.


    "His first attempts were never to kill it¡ªit was to figure out its weak points. Obvious, I know, but the execution is what matters here, not the idea."


    "Indeed, every move he made was all part of his n. He wasn''t just dying¡ªhe was learning."


    The group murmured in agreement, though a few skeptics rolled their eyes.


    "Yeah, but what about thatst move?"


    A young dumbass piped up.


    "That wasn''t strategy. That was pure dumb luck; no way he wanted its beak that close."


    A scarred woman smirked, crossing her arms.


    "Luck? Maybe. But he made that luck, didn''t he?"


    "Or would you dare call a cursed man lucky?"


    While those Magi dunked on the now quiet young dumbass, a few others focused on Malik''s technique.


    "You catch what exactly he did with the shamshir back there?"


    "Wasn''t it just using the de as a medium for his mes?"


    "No, not just a medium, you idiot. He infused it. That de wasn''t just on fire¡ªit was burning with Aether."


    "Hold up, you sure that''s what he did?!"


    "Yeah... He poured Aether straight into the de!"


    "But that''s impossible, right? I mean, infusing Aether into a weapon takes years to master. And even then, it''s dangerous as fuck for any beginner!"


    "Exactly."


    A grizzled older man chimed in, stroking his beard.


    "Aether is vtile when in conversion, even more so when it belongs to the fire element."


    "One wrong push or pull, and the weapon would''ve blown up in your face."


    "Most people who try it end up dead or with nothing but shards in their hands."


    "Then that''s probably why the shamshir broke."


    "His technique was rough as hell, but¡­"


    "But it worked!"


    The scarred woman interrupted, her tone sharp.


    "You saw what happened. The mes bit into that Roc''s flesh like nothing else could."


    "Yeah... though how do you even figure that out mid-fight? That''s not something you just¡­ wing."


    "You don''t."


    An old man replied, a hint of admiration in his voice.


    "You learn it the hard way. Trial, error, and a lot of pain. My guess? He''s been trying to crack Aether infusion for a long time during their journey; it''s just that we didn''t see it, his mind not deeming them important memories."


    "Long time, my ass. Sure, he could''ve reset a few thousand times, but... that''s still considered incredibly fast, especially for someone with no mentor. Just how did he even manage it?"


    The question hung in the air for a little while, unanswered.


    Then finally, the scarred woman spoke again, her voice firm:


    "Does it matter how he did it? What matters is that he did. He took a technique that almost all of us were taught and turned it into a weapon when he most needed it."


    Her group fell silent, the weight of her words sinking in.


    "Even if it was rough, even if it destroyed the de, it saved his life. That''s what makes him dangerous. He''s not just a fighter¡ªhe''s a problem solver."


    "He''s born to be a Sultan, alright~?"


    As they came to that conclusion, a group at the furthest back whispered amongst themselves, acting like thieves in a jewelry shop.


    "Hey, where''s the guy who bet he''d die fifty times?"


    "Oh, he left after the ninth blink."


    "Guess he already realized the Sultan had it in him."


    "Kekeke~ guess I win ten gold~!"


    Thatst voice was a familiar one.


    It was Azeem''s.


    Right, Azeem was among them.


    And judging by the glow of the ck stone ring on his finger, his body in the front was an illusion.


    "Indeed you have, Sir! Guess it wasn''t enough for you to massacre us but also steal our money."


    Azeem''s smile died, and he looked at the man who held out a pouch of coins.


    Slowly, he raised his hand, reaching out for it.


    Just as he got close, the man pulled away, making Azeem pause.


    They red at each other and then...


    "AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"


    Laughter rippled through the group.


    Even the Magi listening in let out a few chuckles of their own.


    It seemed that even death couldn''t stop them from having a good time.


    But, before they could continue their banter and exchange, their mood suddenly died down.


    Their eyes had turned towards the projection.


    It resumed, disying the night.


    First, it zoomed in on Malik''s face¡ªeyes closed, blood smeared across his face like war paint.


    Jasmine and Safira were on either side of him, tightly holding his hands.


    "God, I still can''t believe he survived that wing p."


    "Survived?"


    A snarky guy from beforeughed.


    "He''s probably half-dead, even with that Scroll. Bet he''d cry about for a week."


    "You forget that Lady Safira has another Scroll?"


    "Eh. She still didn''tpletely memorize it; he won''t use it yet."


    Azeem turned to them with a smile that didn''t quite reach his eyes.


    "Men... whatever you think of him, one thing''s clear. The Sultan''s got more guts than anyone else here. So how about you show some damn respect? I don''t wish to repeat Lady Noor''s words."


    They fell quiet, save for a few muttered apologies.


    Then, just as the hall''s atmosphere started to settle, Malik opened his eyes.


    The projection flickered again.


    It showed the Roc''s carcass, massive and imposing even in death.


    And then¡­


    The faintest movement.


    A twitch.

 Chapter 71 Ascension

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    But that was all.


    Just thrashing woes.


    The Roc was truly dead~.


    And the three, after healing Malik to a moveable state, walked to the mountain in the distance.


    They reached it by the end of nightfall and the start of a new day.


    Safira and Jasmine were beyond exhausted at that point, sleeping the moment they hit the cold stone.


    Malik joined them.


    ...


    The cave was dark and damp¡ªthe usual.


    It wasn''t the worst ce he''d been stuck in, but it was definitely up there.


    Once awoken, Malik leaned against the wall, cleaning his dagger from dried blood.


    Jasmine and Safira sat nearby.


    They woke up an hour or so after him, fidgeting and leaning on the wall facing his.


    The tension between them was thick; nobody really knew what to say.


    Every time someone opened their mouth, they thought better of it and shut up again.


    Finally, and unsurprisingly, Jasmine couldn''t take it anymore.


    "O-O-Okay, what... what happened back there?"


    Her voice was both sharp and shaky.


    "You¡­ you knew that thing wasing. You didn''t even hesitate. And what you did to it¡­ Malik, who are you?"


    Safira nodded, chiming in:


    "Yeah, you said that you''re barely a Magi... was that a lie? And now... you''re¡­ acting different. It''s like you''re not the same teach anymore. Just what''s going on with you?"


    Malik looked at them for a second, then looked back at his dagger, continuing his work.


    The girls nced at each other, starting to get annoyed at how they were being treated.


    "I-If you''re going to act this way, t-then you shouldn''t have saved us in the first ce!"


    At those stuttering words from Jasmine, he sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.


    He looked exhausted, more mentally than physically.


    "You two ask a lot of questions..."


    Unsheathing his dagger, he locked eyes with the two.


    "...If you want to survive, you need to stop sitting around wondering about me and start focusing on yourselves."


    Jasmine frowned even further and nced at Safira for backup


    She knew that her words were not getting to him any time soon.


    But the girl just shrugged, clearly having given up, epting the change.


    With that, Malik took away their opportunity to debate, pointing at the center of the cave.


    "Both of you, sit down over here. Lotus position."


    They hesitated for half a second before reluctantly following his orders.


    Safira''s legs were a little wobbly, but she managed to get into position.


    "What''s next, teach?


    Jasmine did it with a huff, clearly still emotional about his actions.


    "O-Okay, now what?"


    "Shut up and focus."


    Malik replied, deadpan.


    "Close your eyes."


    "Clear your thoughts."


    "No distractions."


    "Just focus on your breathing and your body."


    The girls muttered something under their breaths but closed their eyes anyway.


    Soon, the cave fell into silence except for the asional drip of water echoing from deeper inside.


    "Breathe in. Breathe out. Slow. Steady."


    His instructions came like a metronome.


    "Feel every muscle in your body."


    "Every twitch, every movement."


    "Feel your heart pumping."


    "Feel your lungs expanding."


    "Focus."


    "Don''t think about anything else."


    At first, it seemed pointless.


    Safira shifted ufortably, and Jasmine''s brows furrowed in concentration.


    But after a few minutes, something changed.


    Their breathing slowed, their postures rxed, and the tension in their faces started to melt away.


    They weren''t just sitting anymore; they were sinking into themselves, bing hyper-aware of their own bodies in a way they''d never felt before.


    "Good."


    Malik noticed that rather quickly.


    "Now, here''s the hard part. Focus everything on your brain."


    Jasmine''s eyes popped open.


    "W-What?"


    "I said focus on your brain. All your attention. All your energy. Do it."


    "That doesn''t even make sense."


    Safira muttered, cracking an eye open to re at him.


    Malik''s gaze was like steel.


    "Just do it."


    Grumbling, they closed their eyes once more.


    Again, at first, nothing seemed to happen.


    Then, slowly, they began to feel it¡ªa strange, tingling sensation, like a current moving through them.


    It started in their limbs, spreading through their torsos, circling their hearts, until it finally surged toward their heads.


    The moment it hit their brains, it was like flipping a switch.


    Pain exploded through their skulls like their minds were being torn apart and stitched back together at the same time.


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    Both of them screamed, their hands flying to their heads as they writhed in ce.


    "Keep going!"


    They did, and their screams only got louder.


    "Don''t stop!"


    "Push through it!"


    Malik kept encouraging them like that and hours passed.


    The pain didn''t ease; it just shifted, bing something deeper.


    It wasn''t just pain anymore¡ªit was transformation.


    They could feel their bodies changing on a level they didn''t even know existed, their very essence being rewritten.


    It was terrifying and exhrating all at once.


    And then finally, when they thought they couldn''t take it anymore, it stopped.


    The pain ebbed away, leaving behind Aether that buzzed through their veins.


    Slowly, they opened their eyes.


    Everything was different.


    The cave wasn''t just a cave anymore.


    Malik could easily imagine what they were feeling.


    They could see every crack in the walls.


    Every droplet of water as it fell from the ceiling.


    Jasmine blinked, her hand trembling as she held it up to her face.


    "What¡­ what is this?"


    Safira let out a shakyugh, tears streaming down her face.


    "We did it. We¡­ we did it. We''re Magi now."


    Jasmine''s shock turned to excitement, then to pure joy.


    She jumped to her feet, herugh echoing off the cave walls.


    "We did it! We actually did it!"


    "Hell yeah, we did!"


    Safira joined her, the two of themughing and shouting.


    They were now filled with unrestrained happiness, forgetting everything else.


    A celebration of survival, transformation, and the promise of what was toe.


    They had ascended.


    They were no longer just ordinary people struggling to survive.


    They were something more now, something divine... closer to God.


    ''Sinbad...''


    Malik watched them silently, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.


    ''You''ll allow me to be happy for them just this once, won''t you?''


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall was losing it.


    "Did¡­ did he just¡ª"


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    "Turn two mortals into fuckin'' Magi?! Yeah. Yeah, he did."


    "But how?!"


    "That shit''s possible without an Incubator?!"


    With that question, further chaos arrived.


    Magi were yelling, pointing at the projection, and some just stared in shock, knowing exactly what happened but just too shocked to process it.


    "That''s not even possible!"


    A woman with thick sses waved frantically.


    "No, no, no, you people don''t get it! That''s an ancient technique! Like, stuff only our ancestors did!"


    "¡­That''s the old way?"


    "The one that used to kill people just for attempting it?"


    Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave.


    "Holy shit."


    "I thought that was ouwed centuries before then."


    "Ouwed?"


    The same woman''s voice cut through the murmur.


    "No, that was only in our time. In theirs, it was just abandoned. Our Sultan was the one that banned it."


    "So the incubator?..."


    "Yes, he was the one who created that method."


    "It''s only natural... he knew just how risky it was first-hand."


    A man beside her gestured at the projection, where Safira and Jasmine still glowed faintly with residual Aether.


    "But it worked."


    Awe was evident in his tone.


    "They survived it. Not only Lady Safira but Jasmine as well."


    "Barely."


    A skeptical voice shot back.


    "That pain they went through? Most people would''ve died before they even got halfway."


    "Right. A fact that makes them... monsters now."


    "They did it in their first attempt, something I''m sure the Sultan didn''t expect."


    "...Yeah."


    The hall collectively turned its gaze to Safira.


    Her earlier embarrassment was gone, unmentionable in this context.


    And though she felt their eyes on her, she didn''t react, locked on to the projection.


    The crowd didn''t care for herck of interest in them.


    Palpable reverence was in their stares.


    They simply looked at her in a whole new light.


    She wasn''t just a beauty like no other but a beast as well.


    "But not just Lady Safira and Jasmine."


    The scarred woman tilted her head toward the projection.


    "Don''t forget him. He''s the one who guided them out alive. And¡­"


    Her voice lowered, almost hesitant.


    "If he''s teaching this method, it means he went through it himself."


    All eyes now shifted to Malik on the screen, still leaning casually against the cave wall, watching the girls with an unreadable expression.


    "He did this¡­ as what? A five-year-old?"


    An old man nodded grimly.


    "Yes. No way he''d know how to guide someone through it otherwise."


    "...Wait... holy..."


    Someone whistled low, unable to express their thoughts.


    "So..."


    "...It''s..."


    "...Starting."


    "...Now?"


    It was followed by many others.


    Finally, it started to click for the crowd.


    They weren''t stupid¡ªfar from it¡ªbut somehow, it had taken this long for them to really process what was staring them in the face.


    Yeah, they''d realized it long before.


    The Sultan they knew began to show himself in this Malik on the projection.


    But connecting that to actual achievements?


    For whatever reason, that was a harder pill to swallow.


    They''d gotten way toofortable with the image of him suffering.


    Like, reallyfortable.


    It was easy to forget that wasn''t all there was to him.


    Sure, the pain was a huge part, but still, just a part of the bigger picture.


    A part of something... extraordinary.


    And the first to fully wrap her head around that?


    Noor.


    Not surprising, really.@@novelbin@@


    After all...


    "I knew it!"


    The technique Malik used?


    Oh yeah, her family still practiced it¡ªban or no ban, they didn''t give a shit.


    And now, watching him pull it off, any suspicions she had?


    They were practically screaming in her head.


    This wasn''t a coincidence. No way.


    There was some kind of connection between Malik''s guardian and her family.


    She didn''t know if it was a good one or not, but one thing was clear¡ªshe was all in on figuring it out.


    ''Just a few more clues... Just a few more, and I''ll have it.''

 Chapter 72 Fall Into Depravity

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Seeing that the two girls would be fine without him, Malik left them to consolidate their newfound power and went deep into the cave.


    He figured he''d scope it out, make sure there weren''t any nasty surprises waiting to ruin their little camping trip.


    The ce was like a mirror of the cave he''d holed up in before¡ªa yawning maw, cloaked in an oppressive silence.


    All the walls were slick with moisture, and the smell was horrendous, somehow worse than what he''d gone through with... yeah.


    If there were awards for awful stenches, this ce certainly would sweep thepetition.


    It got worse the deeper he got.


    Like someone took the wet socks of a rotting corpse, infused them with shit, threw them into a swamp, let them marinate for ten years, baked them under the Shams for another few, and then set the thing on fire.


    ...It was that bad.


    But Malik?


    He just wrinkled his nose and kept moving like the reek didn''t even faze him.


    After everything he''d been through, a little olfactory nightmare wasn''t about to knock him off his game.


    Each footfall of his was cautious, eyes scanning for any sign of danger.


    Malik wasn''t about to get caught slipping.


    If there was one thing life had drilled into him, it was that quiet usually meant something was gearing up to hit the fan.


    He deemed it an unspoken universalw, where calm always preceded cmity.


    And he was sure that now... it wouldn''t be any different.


    For a few minutes, it was just more of the same¡ªempty corridors, the drip of water echoing in the stillness.


    But then, just when he entered arge open space, the smell hit a level that could''ve dropped a lesser man.


    Even Malik, who thought he''d smelled it all, found himself gagging.


    "Ah..."


    That was when he saw it.


    A Hell had unveiled itself before him.


    Corpses. Tens of them.


    All scattered across the cavern floor like discarded meat puppets.


    It wasn''t just the number¡ªit was how wrong they looked.


    Skin peeled back in strips, exposing raw muscle and bone.


    Some bodies were so dposed they were basically skeletons.


    But others?


    They looked freakishly fresh, almost preserved like they''d only just stopped breathing.


    Malik, covering his nose and mouth, crouched beside one, forcing himself to take a closer look.


    The injuries were¡­ odd.


    ''I have to...''


    Standing back up, he approached another corpse.


    ''Why?''


    His thoughts didn''t change.


    They only solidified.


    He went to another.


    ''...Did they really?''


    Still.


    Then another.


    And another.


    Same deal.


    The injuries just didn''t make sense.


    shed wrists.


    Deep gouges in their necks.


    Perfectly precise, like someone had performed surgery.


    And there were no signs of a struggle¡ªno defensive wounds, no blood trails suggesting they''d tried to crawl away.


    "They did this to themselves¡­"


    His whisper was true.


    Or was it?


    Malik''s brow furrowed.


    "Why would they¡­?"


    It didn''t add up.


    Why would so many people off themselves here?


    And in the exact same way?


    ''Maybe they were knocked out?''


    ''Is that why there were no signs of struggle?''


    ''But really? Not even one person woke up? That''s hard to believe.''


    He stood slowly, his boots nearly slipping in the blood-soaked stone.


    Before his curiosity could grow any further, he quickly shook his head.


    ''I shouldn''t bother with this... curiosity killed the cat and all that.''


    Whatever had driven these people to such desperation, he didn''t want to find out.


    Malik knew where those paths usually ended up.


    Besides, he didn''t want more responsibility than what he already had.


    And yet...


    Tip-tap, tip-tap.


    The ''responsibility'' hade to him.@@novelbin@@


    Instincts kicked in and his dagger was in his hand nearly in an instant.


    He turned toward the source of the noise.


    Taking a stance, he braced himself for an attack, muscles coiled like springs.


    But what emerged from the shadows wasn''t a monster.


    No, far from it.


    It was a beautiful little flower.


    It was Jasmine.


    She stopped a few feet away, her face pale, likely nauseated from the smell.


    Malik''s grip on his weapon didn''t loosen.


    "What are you doing here? Go back."


    Jasmine slowly crossed her arms, her chin lifting stubbornly.


    "N-N-N-No."


    "This isn''t a debate. It''s dangerous. Go back."


    "And... and leave you to face this alone? N-No way!"


    Malik''s frustration boiled over.


    "Why are you so stubborn?!"


    She hesitated, her gaze softening.


    "B-Because I''m worried about you! You act like a different man all of a sudden, ignoring us, not even answering a single question... I don''t know what''s bothering you... but at least... at least I want you to know that I''m here for you. You act like you have to carry everything on your own. You don''t. You shouldn''t."


    Her words caught him off guard, a disy of intellect that surprised him.


    Just what kind of barely pubescent child talked like that?


    "..."


    Malik didn''t have the answer.


    For a long moment, he just stared at her.


    Jasmine.


    Her name meant "a gift from God," and right now, it felt painfully apt.


    A flower that wilted, yet still found the strength to bloom again.


    "...Fine."


    He finally spoke, his tone colder than he intended.


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    It seemed that her arrival switched up his ns, making him no longer interested in retreat.


    "It''s better if you stick with me anyway. Safer than going back alone."


    Jasmine''s expression softened, a faint smile tugging at her lips.


    She fell into step beside him as they continued deeper into the cave.


    The corpses grew more numerous, hundreds of them lining the cavern floor.


    Each one told the same story of despair and self-destruction.


    Jasmine''s stomach churned, but she pressed on, following her teacher with all that she had, her mind racing with questions that she didn''t want the answer to.


    Then finally, and certainly not soon enough, they reached the end of the cave.


    A sea of bodies weed them.


    Yet that wasn''t all.


    There, atop a protruding stone, a single note rested, its edges yellowed with age.


    Malik jumped over the corpses and picked the parchment up carefully.


    Going back to Jasmine, he began to read the faded words:


    "To all staff, I regret to inform you that our worst fears have been realized.


    We''ve Fallen till ourst man. This camp will be gone in a day.


    As I''m sure you understand, exfiltration transport is not avable.


    We are out of Holy Relics and are so far from the South.


    If you wish to abandon the camp and try your luck on foot, you may do so.


    I have neither the power nor the will to stop you.


    The barrier will unveil at 0800 hours and remain so for 15 minutes.


    Godspeed.


    For those who''d rather not Fall Into Depravity, there will be a gathering in themunity room at 0777 hours, and Nurse Ghadeer will make multiple means for an end avable.


    I want to underscore how proud I am of each and every person who decided to stay.


    Our choice is the right one.


    I just hope... that makes this a little easier."


    Malik''s brow tightened as his eyes scanned the note again, his mind working overtime.


    The thing was packed with way too much info to absorb in one go.


    Still, one line stood out, nagging at him like a pebble in his shoe.


    "Fall Into Depravity..."


    "What the hell does that even mean? Fallen? In what way exactly?"


    Though he didn''t know the meaning, the words left a sour taste in his mouth.


    He turned to Jasmine, intending to ask if she could make sense of it.


    "Hey, do you¡ª"


    But the question died on his lips when he saw her face.

 Chapter 73 NOT AGAIN!

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Just then, when Malik turned to face Jasmine, the projection had paused.


    The moment that happened, the once silent hall broke out into chaos.


    "Why¡ªand I mean this from the depths of my soul¡ªwhy the hell does it always cut off at the tensest part?!!!!"


    "Stop with the fucking cliffhangers, Goddammit!"


    "Is it some kind of sick joke?!"


    "This is psychological warfare!"


    "Is it not showing her face on purpose?!"


    "I swear if I ever meet the Arcanist who designed this damn thing¡­"


    "It''s her face!"


    A younger voice piped up, their tone bordering on desperation.


    "It has to be something about her face, right? Some twist? A reveal? Like¡ªlike she''s secretly¡ª"


    "Oh, shut up, kid."


    An older woman cut in, rolling her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn''t fall out of her head.


    "You''ve read too many novels. We''re not here for your wild theories!"


    "Why don''t you shut up!"


    The junior shot back, red-faced. Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire


    "At least I''m thinking!"


    A low buzz of frustration and spection filled the room, people pacing, groaning, and muttering curses under their breath.


    "Maybe it''s a glitch?"


    Some random Magi suggested hesitantly, though they immediately regretted it when half the hall turned to re at them.


    "A glitch?"


    The old man from before barked augh that held no humor.


    "You think a Ten Commandment that survived God-knows-how-many centuries just glitches out? Get real son."


    Before the argument could escte, a sudden flicker drew everyone''s attention back to the projection.


    "It''s starting again!"


    "About damn time."


    "Shut up, everyone!"


    "Don''t miss anything!"


    Nobody needed to be told twice.


    Conversations died instantly, and all eyes locked on the flickering image like their lives depended on it.


    Safira was the first of them.


    Her green rubies stared unblinkingly at what was before her, blocking out everything else.


    She already had a sinking feeling about what wasing next, and it brought her immense sadness.


    She didn''t even realize tears were streaming down her face until one dripped off her chin.


    "¡­I''m sorry."


    It wasn''t clear who she was apologizing to¡ªMalik, Jasmine, or herself.


    But that word carried the weight of a thousand regrets.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik blinked.


    Then blinked again.


    Nope. Still there.


    Once more.


    Still there.


    Twice more.


    Still.


    Then rubbed his eyes so hard he swore he was going to see stars.


    When he looked down again, he almost wished he hadn''t.


    Same thing.


    He turned away, focused on literally anything else¡ªthe cave walls, the floor, even his own damn hands¡ªthen slowly turned back.


    Nothing changed.


    ''ck¡­ eyes?''


    Right.


    Jasmine''s right eye was fully ck.


    Yes, not just the iris, the whole thing.


    Like someone had dipped her eyeball in ink.


    His mind scrambled for some logical exnation, but no.


    Just that unsettling void staring right back at him.


    ''Okay¡­ this is fine. I''m just seeing things.''


    Malik lied to himself.


    He could not have... that happen again.


    So he blinked.


    Maybe if he did it hard enough, it''d go back to normal.


    ...It didn''t.


    If anything, it looked worse.


    The ck was¡­ spreading?


    Crawling, even. Alive.


    Fine lines of ck, like cracks forming in fragile porcin


    Panic kicked him square in the gut, forcing him to take a step back.


    "Jasmine..."


    His voice shook more than his heart did.


    "What''s happening to you?"


    "..."


    She didn''t respond.


    "Your, uh¡­"


    "..."


    Or maybe she couldn''t.


    "Your eye, it''s, um¡ª"


    Yeah, no.


    Words weren''t helping.


    He just gestured wildly at his own face, hoping she''d catch on.


    Jasmine didn''t.


    Her body swayed slightly, her breaths shallow and uneven.


    It seemed that she was out of it, unable to form the most basic of thoughts.


    Malik didn''t waste another second, knowing he had wasted enough in his panic.


    With a burst of speed, he scooped her up into his arms and bolted out of the cave.


    Every step he took felt like thunder in his chest.


    In no more than ten seconds, he ran past Safira, who still sat cross-legged, obliviously deep in cultivation.


    Dirt and loose rocks flew as his boots pounded the ground, carrying him faster than he''d ever run before.


    The starlight hit him as he burst out of the cave''s mouth, but he didn''t slow down.


    Not yet. He needed to be as far away from that cursed graveyard as possible.


    ''Keep going.''


    ''Don''t stop.''


    ''Don''t look back.''


    Only when the Shams began to dim, and his legs wobbled, threatening to buckle beneath him, did he finally skid to a halt.


    Panting hard, he looked down at the weight in his arms.


    "Jasmine..."


    Carefully, he knelt and lowered her to the ground, his hands trembling like leaves in a storm.


    "No, no, no, this isn''t happening."


    He hovered over her, eyes locked on the ck cracks now snaking across her skin, spreading with each breath.


    "You gotta fight this."


    "..."


    She showed no response...


    Yet he didn''t stop.


    "Whatever''s happening to you, push it back."


    "..."


    Nothing.


    "Use your Aether."


    "..."


    "Focus on it."


    "..."


    "You can do this."


    "..."


    "Please."


    "..."


    Still nothing.


    Just her lying there, her chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths.


    It killed him seeing her like that, but it would''ve been preferable to what he saw next.


    Her other eye started going ck too.


    "No, no, no, no, no!"


    Desperate, Malik pressed his hand to her second heart and channeled his Aether into her.


    The energy flowed into her body, but it was like throwing water onto a raging inferno.


    It helped naught.


    Rather, it only did the opposite, somehow fueling the chaos.


    Her body jerked violently like it was being wrung out by some invisible force.


    The ck veins that webbed across her skin bulged, crawling up her arms, her neck, her face¡ªspreading like wildfire.


    And then... Jasmine screamed:


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    A sound so raw and agonizing it cut Malik to the bone.


    "Jasmine, no¡ªstay with me!"


    Her back arched off the ground, bones popping in ways that should''ve been impossible.


    Limbs stretched and contorted as ck ichor seeped out the cracks like tar.


    Then her body began to¡­ shift.


    Her figure melted into grotesque, misshapen bulges of flesh, riddled with ck pulsing veins.


    Her face morphed, features barely recognizable.


    Her mouth split open into something alien.


    ...She had be something else entirely.


    An ugly, grotesque glob of meat, skin, and ck.


    Then, after her transformation wasplete...


    "P-P-Ple... see ... eee ..."


    Her mouth¡ªif it could still be called that¡ªstruggled to form a single word.


    "P-Please¡­"


    It was a voice so broken¡ªbarely human.


    Malik froze once he registered it.


    His heart couldn''t take it anymore.


    He dreaded this to the core, and yet it still happened.


    The fact that her mind still lived haunted him.


    It was all so sudden.


    Everything seemed fine, but then...


    "Kill me."


    Hell had arrived.


    "I can''t¡­ I can''t take it¡­ anymore¡­"


    She continued to beg, her words choking out between wrong-sounding sobs.


    "M-Malik... please... "@@novelbin@@


    The thing that had been Jasmine let out a shuddering gasp as ck tears spilled from the corners of what seemed to be her eyes.


    "I¡­"


    Malik''s hand reached for his dagger.


    The de hissed against its sheath as he unsheathed it.


    The weight of it¡ªit felt unbearable.


    His hands shook so hard he nearly dropped it.


    "I can''t¡­"


    He stared down at her.


    No. It.


    This¡­ thing that wasn''t Jasmine anymore.


    But her voice¡ªher plea¡ªit was still her.


    Somewhere in there, she was still Jasmine.


    "I can''t do this¡­"


    His hands shook harder, his breaths rough.


    "I can''t¡­"


    He lowered the de.


    "I won''t allow this."


    And then he turned it on himself.


    "Not again... don''t make me go through this again."


    The tip trembled as he pressed it against his own neck.


    "NOT AGAIN!"


    With that roar of anguish, he plunged the de with all his strength.


    Darkness.


    Blink.

 Chapter 74 Serpent Circle

    Everything stopped.


    No¡ªeverything rewound.


    Malik''s body moved backward as though invisible strings puppeteered his actions.


    He watched in horrified awe as his de withdrew from his neck.


    The grotesque form of Jasmine reverted, her skin smoothing, her left ckened eye fading.


    Malik picked her up and began to run backwards into the cave.


    The world around him blurred, colors and shapes streaking past him in reverse.


    Time picked up speed until he found himself standing just outside the cave.


    Untouched by what had just happened.


    And then it stopped.


    Time resumed.


    Malik staggered, his knees nearly giving out beneath him.


    He turned and saw Jasmine, whole and healthy, standing a few steps away.


    She looked confused but unharmed.


    His breath hitched. Experience more content on My Virtual Library Empire


    "It... it didn''t happen again."


    He was in disbelief.


    "He... heh... ah..."


    A short, brokenugh escaped his lips.


    He stopped thinking.


    He just moved, wrapping Jasmine in a tight embrace.


    He held onto her like she was the only thing anchoring him to this world.


    "M-M-M-Malik?"


    Her voice was soft and startled.


    "What¡­?"


    "..."


    He took a y from her book and didn''t answer.


    Instead, he just held her tighter, pressing his forehead to her shoulder.


    Though extremely surprised, she didn''t push him away.


    Looking at them, Safira stayed surprisingly silent.


    Yet clear enough to anyone watching, her eyes burned with... jealousy?


    It was a nearly nk look that screamed death.


    One that was barely noticed by Malik. For obvious reason.


    Right now, his entire world was the flower in front of him.


    And that very flower even brought her petals up to return the embrace, albeit hesitantly.


    She cared not for its cause anymore, only wanting to dispel whatever had ailed him.


    Unknowing of her jealousy, she had gestured for Safira to join them.


    This one simple act dispelled the girl''s jealousypletely.


    Malik, though, didn''t care for any of that.


    He didn''t care about the questions swirling in his mind.


    All that mattered was that she was alive.


    That hadn''t happened again.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The hall was silent.


    Not the kind that brought peace, but the heavy, suffocating kind.


    Their chests felt crushed, their throats wed.


    Their minds somber, gone through whish.


    Every single person there felt it¡ªlike someone had taken their heart, wrung it out, and then stuffed it back in their chest.


    Many hands twitched, clutched into fists.


    Others stared, eyes wide and unblinking, like they couldn''t look away even if they wanted to.


    Their mouths burned dry as if they''d been screaming¡ªbut they hadn''t.


    Of course, they hadn''t.


    No one made a sound since the reveal.


    Their heads were spinning, still trying to catch up.


    One second, it had been great, then good, then bad.


    Then it was worse.


    Then¡­ it was over.


    Now it was great again.


    Zero to hundred and back to zero.


    Or so the ignorant would think.


    It, unfortunately, wasn''t over.


    Far from it.


    Even now, watching him celebrate like the whole world had just been saved, they couldn''t feel the relief he did.


    Not because they didn''t want to.


    God, they wanted to.


    But they knew the truth.


    One shoe had dropped, and now they somberly waited for the other.


    No one wanted to say it out loud, though.


    Saying it would make it real and they couldn''t handle that.


    Not after seeing¡­ that.


    They feared that it''d be unveiled before them once more.


    So instead, they did what people always did in moments like this.


    Something that even their betters did.


    They ran away... began to pretend.


    Pushing it down, burying it deep, and acting like it hadn''t happened.


    Their minds scrambled totch onto anything else, anything less horrible.


    Anything less real.


    Less grave.


    And that was when a single voice finally broke the spell:


    "What kind of messed-up crap is this?!"


    Then another:


    "Fuck off with this shit!"


    Then another:


    "Didn''t the Sultan have enough?!"


    Then another:


    "What the fuck did a kid like him do to deserve this?!"


    Then another:


    "Goddammit!"


    They were confused, angry, and fearful.


    Each Magi gestured wildly, murmuring and cursing about something or another.


    A few, like Safira, La, Azeem, and unnamed others, stood nearest to the projection.


    Pain weed them there, great, unfathomable amounts of it.


    Unlike Huda, this act of theirs wasn''t out of atonement.


    No, in their minds, they had nothing to ''atone'' for.


    In lieu, it was to walk a meter in his boots.


    Witness... feel, what he went through to thest detail.


    If they did, maybe they''d understand how he could do the things he did, at least a little.


    Their camps, meanwhile, stood outside the pain transfer''s perimeter, almost frozen in shock.


    Safira''s rtively tiny camp had it worst, not expecting their mistress to have gone through such things.


    Noor looked at them with a smirk, one so sharp it could cut ss.


    She was leaning back on her floating throne, her hand wrapped around a long smoke pipe. She didn''t even bother masking her contempt, letting it radiate off her like heatwaves on desert sand.


    This Emperor didn''t give a single damn about Malik''s struggles, his emotions, or the pain ying out on the projection.


    If anything, she found it mildly entertaining, like watching a particrly messy y unfold.


    Roya, though¡­ She was on a whole different level.


    Noor''s disdain was passive, a casual dismissal.


    Roya''s? That was active and dripping with malice.


    She didn''t just enjoy watching Malik suffer¡ªno.


    She took pleasure in it.


    She adored it.


    She basked in it.


    She thrived on it.


    Relishing, savoring, and loving it.


    Every crack in his facade, every wince, every flicker that danced across his body¡ªit was like the finest wine to her, intoxicating and addictive.


    She didn''t even pretend to be indifferent.


    Sure, she looked outwardly disinterested, her posturezy as though she were barely paying attention.


    But her blue eyes betrayed her.


    Oh, they drank it all in.@@novelbin@@


    Every detail, every nuance.


    And they were hungry, devouring each moment with an almost disturbing intensity.


    Especially his face.


    His expressions were her favorite.


    Fear, regret, anger¡ªshe''d cataloged them all in her mind, a twisted gallery she could revisit whenever she pleased.


    But this?


    What she was seeing now?


    This was a masterpiece.


    A level of anguish so pure, so unrefined, it put everything else to shame.


    Because, of course, Malik didn''t know the truth.


    He had no idea.


    Jasmine''s fate was already sealed, written in stone long before he could even grasp the pen.


    And soon, watching him il, watching him fight so desperately to change what couldn''t be changed?


    That was the pi¨¨ce de r¨¦sistance.


    Her lips curled into the faintest of smiles, so slight it was almost imperceptible.


    Almost.


    ''Until he figures it out... he''ll just keep going in circles.''


    She couldn''t wait.


    ''Watching the serpent chase its own tail~.''


    And oh, how she was going to enjoy every single moment of it.

 Chapter 75 No Rest For The Wicked

    "Yo, Azeem, mind spilling the tea?"


    La''s voice cut through the silence shared by their little masochist group.


    "You''ve been around him the longest. Seen all sorts of wild stuff, right? This gotta ring a bell. Or should I ask Roya? Nah, scratch that¡ªshe''d probably charge me for the answer."


    Roya snorted softly at that, clearly unbothered, but Azeem?


    He just stood there, staring at her, head in the clouds.


    Then finally, with a sigh, he nodded, his face grim.


    "I''d answer, but you gotta tell me this, what do you call the Fallen?"


    "You mean us from the Dark Continent? Well, I''ve never been there long so I''m not sure, but I heard that it depends on the vige. Yama''s Embraced, Drowning Lotuses... There are many others¡ªdidn''t bother remembering them though."


    "I see..."


    He nodded once more.


    "As you''ve seen in the note, its official term is Falling Into Depravity..."


    His voice was lower than usual, like he subconsciously didn''t want the others to hear.


    "Corruption."


    The moment that word dropped, it was like someone had detonated a bomb in the hall.


    Azeem didn''t care, though, continuing to speak:


    "But this shit?"


    He gestured toward the projection with a quick jerk of his head.


    "This exact case? Nope. Never seen it. Not in any records, not in any stories, not even documented rumors. Whatever this is, it''s been buried deep¡ªa cover-up. And if I had to choose who..."


    He let the sentence hang, but everyone caught the implication.


    The Former Sultan.


    Such a revtion would''ve sent themon Magi a doozy before today.


    But after that little glimpse of the real Cyrus in the projection?


    Shady everything was to be expected.


    So no, their focus was on a more curious word.


    Corruption.


    That word was more than just a word.


    It was a scarlet letter.


    A loaded flintlock pistol.


    A Goddamn death sentence for anyone unlucky enough to be connected to it.


    And the crowd wasn''t exactly taking it well.


    Some folks nced around like the usation alone might somehow infect them.


    Others froze, their faces nk but their thoughts running a mile a minute.


    Why?


    Because Corruption wasn''t just some magical boogeyman.


    It was history¡ªbloody, horrific history.


    Mass destruction. Massacres. Genocides.


    Whole viges, cities even, were wiped off the map.


    Wells were poisoned.


    Farms were burned to ash.


    Lands cursed so badly that no one dared step foot in them for generations.


    Corruption wasn''t just scary¡ªit was catastrophic.


    And it wasn''t just the Corrupted that terrified people.


    Oh no, the consequences were often way worse.


    Wars had been started over it.


    The bnce of power was already as shaky as a drunk tightrope walker.


    Sometimes, all it took was a single whisper¡ªso-and-so''s camp is harboring a Corrupted Magi¡ªand boom, armies were marching, innocent people were dying, and no one even stopped to check if it was true.


    That''s how loaded the word was.


    And now?


    The crowd was terrified.


    Most of them had never even seen Corruption up close.


    Not a glimpse, not a hint.


    The stories they knew were either centuries-old legends or stuff they overheard from Seekers passing through.


    That told them two things, clear as day.


    One: The Sultans of each era had been working overtime to keep Corruption on the down low, scrubbing it from history and locking it behindyers of secrecy.


    And two?


    Malik¡ªtheir Sultan¡ªhad been especially good at it.


    He buried the truth so deep it might as well have been in another dimension.


    "Corruption? Don''t be ridiculous. Falling and being Corrupted are two separate things."


    La scoffed, undoubtedly feeling some fear herself.


    "Corruption only happens to those at higher ranks. Jasmine was just a beginner Dune Guardian. It''s impossible."


    "Is it?"@@novelbin@@


    Safira cut in.


    "Is it really different? Don''t they both share the same symptoms?


    La shook her head.


    "No... Corruption makes Magis stronger. Even boosts their rank by one or two sub-ranks. Falling Into Depravity only ruins them, making them look like... that."


    Safira scoffed, a hint of sadness clear in her voice.


    "It''s the same. You''re just repeating the propaganda each Sultan spews."


    "Oh, yeah?"


    "Yes. The only difference is that Corrupted Magi had bodies that could handle the transition and Fallen didn''t."


    "But..."


    "If you''re so sure you''re correct then exin what we just saw. Exin why she turned into that."


    La nced at her husband and then looked back down.


    "I don''t know... but it''s not Corruption. It can''t be. The conditions are so unfathomably far from being right. She needs to be a Mal¨¡k, studying the same Divine Laws as the True Sultan, or at least exposed to something tied to the Divine Laws¡ªthe same ones the ''He'' governs. Only then would ''His'' knowledge Corrupt her soul. It doesn''t just happen out of nowhere and certainly not from rotting corpses."


    "And yet, it clearly happened. To her. To others."


    Sighing at Safira''s quick rebuttal, La nced at Azeem.


    "Speak."


    He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders.


    "The reason? Can''t say. It''s a state secret. Only the Sultans know how Magi Fall Into Depravity."


    This revtion sparked a fresh wave of murmurs... though none reached the group.


    "...But you should know some things at least, right?"


    Azeem hesitated, then blinked, his red eyes calm once more.


    "This isn''t random. Depravity targets Dune Guardians specifically. Always has." Discover more content at My Virtual Library Empire


    "I see that... but why?"


    La demanded.


    "The conditions aren''t met, so what makes them so special? Is it just their connection with ''Him?'' It can''t be the simple, can it?"


    "That..."


    He raised his hands in surrender, his gold rings jingling.


    "...Is the million-coin question."


    Safira piled in:


    "Then what about Teacher? Why didn''t it affect him?"


    That question made them pause.


    All eyes turned to Azeem, who looked annoyed out of his mind.


    "I don''t know..."


    Clicking his tongue, he ruffled his hair, revealing all he knew and theorized:


    "I don''t know why the Sultan wasn''t affected."


    "Maybe¡­ maybe it''s because he''s a higher rank in the Divine Hierarchy."


    "Maybe his experience as a Dune Guardian gave him some kind of resistance."


    "Maybe it''s because of that ck speck we saw after his first Return By Death."


    "Maybe it''s just a side-benefit of his curse..."


    "I. Don''t. Know."


    Zafar, who had stayed quiet so far, keeping to himself, suddenly countered:


    "Or maybe he just got lucky."


    "..."


    Azeem ignored him.


    "I don''t know why Magi Fall... but still, I do know that it''s incredibly rare. Whatever happened to Jasmine... high-chance it wasn''t random."


    La wasn''t satisfied with that answer.


    "Then what? It was induced by the Corruption in the cave?"


    "Fucking Hell! I said I don''t know!"


    He snapped a little, hisposure finally cracking.


    "I wasn''t told anything about this! Whatever this is... it''s not in the archives. It''s not in the records. It''s¡­ it''s aplete anomaly."


    He looked hurt by those words he uttered, as if betrayed, but no onemented on that.


    "Damn it."


    La''s eyes narrowed.


    "Oh wait... The barrier."


    "What?"


    Safira asked, turning toward her.


    "The note mentioned a barrier."


    La''s voice grew louder.


    "It said it would unveil at 0800 hours. What if that kept the Corruption from spreading? It dissipated over time, sure, but some remained in the cave''s Aether. Jasmine had just unluckily taken that on when she went deep."


    Azeem, now calm again, turned to her.


    "usible theory..."


    Before he could continue, start another back and forth, Zafar spoke up, realizing something:


    "Wait. Lady Safira... Do you remember this happening?"


    All eyes turned to her, whose face turned pale, her green rubies wide and ssy.


    "...No."


    When she finally spoke, her words were barely audible.


    "I don''t... I don''t remember this... I don''t remember any of this."


    The hall fell silent again, the weight of her words sinking in.


    If Safira didn''t remember this event?


    Well, that meant one of the two things, and neither was good.


    Either her memory had been altered, which was highly unlikely...


    Or this simply wasn''t the end of their tragedy.


    Malik had died once more.


    He had not epted the inevitable.


    ''How...''


    All couldn''t help but wonder...


    ''How many times did he repeat her death?''


    It truly seemed that there was no rest for the wicked.

 Chapter 76 Kill Me

    ***


    {Inside The Projection} Read new adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    Thud-thud-thud!


    Jasmine was utterly confused about what was happening.


    "M-M-Malik!"


    One moment she was hugged by him right before the cave.


    "What is going on?!


    The next, she was on his shoulder as he ran with the speed of ten horses.


    "What are you doing?!"


    "..."


    He didn''t answer. His focus on something else entirely.


    His legs moved on their own, pounding against the dirt with all their strength.


    And though rough, he made sure Jasmine wasn''t about to fall off any time soon.


    He had her glued to his right shoulder like she was some kind of priceless relic.


    His arms ached, lungs burned like a forge, but he didn''t stop.


    "Malik, put me down!"


    Not even when she cried for him to do so.


    "I w-won''t run away, j-just put me down!"


    She began to smack his back with her little fists.


    "E-Even if it''s you, I won''t allow you to do anything!"


    She wasn''t pulling her punches either¡ªthough still, he barely felt anything.


    "I w-won''t okay?! I really won''t!"


    Her screams wereced with anger and fear.


    In another time, another circumstance, hearing that would''ve hurt him deeply, but now?


    All he could focus on was that memory from¡­ before.


    That ck eye.


    That CURSED ck eye.


    Her twisting and writhing body.


    The ck veins tearing across her skin.


    Her voice¡ªraw, pleading¡ªtelling him to kill her.


    The de in his hands, and how he hadn''t done it.


    Too many goddamn nightmares to count.


    They all bled together, and somehow, this¡­


    This mess right here was their ugly grand finale.


    Whatever this was.


    "Do... do whatever you want with me, then."


    Jasmine''s mutter was sudden, cold, and resigned.


    She wasn''t swinging at him anymore.


    Instead, her body went limp, dead weight in his arms.


    That hit Malik, right in the gut, for a second.


    Just a second.


    Then he shoved it down.


    Buried it.


    Kept moving.


    No time for her breakdown.


    No time for guilt, sympathy, or anything remotely human.


    He didn''t even let himself think about it.


    Couldn''t afford to.


    Depravity didn''t allow it.


    Eventually, his legs began to scream, threatening to give out.


    But Malik didn''t give a damn.


    He kept going.


    Even as his knees buckled.


    Even as his lungs felt like they were about to burst.


    He pushed forward, one dragging step at a time.


    Farther thanst time.


    Way farther.


    He didn''t care where he was headed¡ªhe just knew he couldn''t stay there.


    Couldn''t risk¡­ it happening again.


    Sure, the cave was far behind him now, but it still felt too close.


    Like if he stopped, it would drag him back.


    So he didn''t stop.


    Not until his legs finally betrayed him, crumpling under the dying light.


    Malik hit the ground hard, copsing into a small clearing.


    Jasmine slipped from his shoulder andnded awkwardly next to him with a soft thud.


    "Shit¡­"


    That mutter was all he managed.


    No energy left to apologize, to move, or even to nce at her.


    He just stayed there.


    On his knees.


    Hands dug into the dirt.


    Mimicking a drowning man wing for air.


    Sweat poured down his face, soaking his clothes.


    If it was only that, he would''ve easily managed, having gone through worse.


    But his vision wasn''t doing so well too.


    It spun like he was stuck on a carousel from Hell for a few hundred years.


    ''I''m done.''


    The thought was loud in his head, echoing like a bell.


    He wanted to copse fully.


    To just let the earth swallow him up.


    But there was no rest for men like him.


    Just when he began to catch his breath...


    ''Please.''


    Malik turned to look at Jasmine.


    And that was when he saw it.


    What he so dreaded.


    Her right eye...


    It was ck.


    Not fully, for whatever reason, but it didn''t matter.


    A dark stain had started creeping into her iris, like ink spilling in water.


    Jasmine''s Fall had begun.


    ''...Why?''


    His stomach dropped.


    Time slowed to a crawl.


    No words, no thoughts, just raw panic.


    His body, acting on instinct alone, dragged itself toward her.


    She was sitting up now, clutching her head like it was splitting open, soft groans escaping her lips.


    "Jasmine¡­"


    His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper.


    The little girl nced up at him.


    And then she saw the look on his face.


    Her brow furrowed.


    "What¡ª?"


    Before she could finish, his hand shot to his belt, drawing his dagger from its sheath.


    The de gleamed, the edge sharp enough to cut through his own hesitation.


    "What are you¡ª?"


    Jasmine''s words cut off when he raised the de to his own neck.


    Her eyes widened in horror.


    "MALIK, NO¡ª!"


    The dagger bit into his skin, cold steel meeting flesh, and then¡­


    Darkness.


    Blink.


    Rewind. Again.


    The world unraveled.


    Time twisted and bent around him like threads being pulled loose.


    He saw it all y out in reverse¡ªhis hands pulling the de away, his body rising to its feet, the look of panic in Jasmine''s eyes fading to confusion.


    And then Malik was back.


    Standing at the edge of the cave.


    Just likest time.


    The weight of what just happened¡ªor what had unhappened¡ªcrashed into him all at once.


    He stumbled, nearly falling, but he caught himself, his chest heaving like he''d been running for hours.


    Malik took a beat, then looked up at Jasmine.


    She stood there with a puzzled expression, normal.


    Whole.


    The faintest hint of ck creeping into her eye was gone.


    Malik turned to Safira.


    "Don''t ask."


    He didn''t have the energy to exin.


    "We''re leaving. Now."


    Her eyebrows shot up.


    "Leaving? What are you talking about? We just got here¡ª"


    "I said we''re leaving!"


    He screamed louder than intended, but he didn''t care.


    "We can''t stay here. It''s not safe."


    Jasmine was still staring at him, her arms wrapped around herself like she was cold.


    "Malik¡­ what''s going on? Why are you acting like this?"


    He couldn''t meet her eyes.


    "I can''t exin it right now. Just¡­ trust me. Please."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    For a moment, no one said anything. Just a long silence.


    Then, finally, Jasmine nodded.


    "O-Okay."


    Reluctantly, Safira did the same, though clearly less than thrilled.


    "Sure... it''d be better for us to memorize a little more anyways."


    Thankful for her flimsy excuse, Malik didn''t push or rouse them.


    Just turned south, away from the cave, and started walking.


    The pace he set was calm.


    Not too fast, not too slow.


    He was careful, oh so careful, not to do anything that might stress Jasmine out.


    It was ridiculous, of course, picking at straws, but he couldn''t help himself.


    He clung to the hope, however irrational, that keeping her calm might just change the oue.


    The three of them walked in near-total silence for hours, maybe five, maybe more.


    Time blurred together.


    Safira kept herself busy with her Scroll, asionally shooting curious nces at the other two.


    Meanwhile, Jasmine¡­


    Jasmine just looked tired.


    Exhaustion weighed her down like chains, her shoulders sagging.


    Every so often she stumbled, and every time she did, Malik''s heart jumped into his throat.


    He noticed her every wince... every struggle.


    It was only of course that he did.


    The man simply couldn''t stop himself from checking on her.


    Over and over, his eyes darted to her, his paranoia growing with each passing minute.


    His mind churned with worry, with fear, with the haunting memory of that creeping ckness.


    And then, when the light began to dim, he saw it.


    Her right eye.


    That same ck stain, bleeding into her iris like ink spilling across parchment.


    It was faint, just a small shadow of what it had been, but it was there.@@novelbin@@


    Malik froze mid-step.


    His blood turned to ice.


    No.


    Not again...


    Not again!


    His whole world was crumbling before him, and he could not do anything about it.


    Questions like why or how didn''t bother to register in his mind.


    Without thinking, without hesitation, he drew his dagger.


    Jasmine turned to him, startled.


    "M-Malik, what are you¡ª?"


    He didn''t hear the end of her stumbling words.


    The de sliced through his throat; darkness imed him.


    Blink.


    He was back.


    The edge of the cave.


    The same "checkpoint."


    This time, he didn''t hesitate.


    He didn''t stop to hug Jasmine.


    Didn''t stop to exin.


    He scooped her up, turned, and ran.


    "M-M-M-Malik, stop!"


    "..."


    "W-What''s wrong with you?!"


    Jasmine''s screams returned, as did her punches.


    "T-Teach! Where are you going?!"


    Safira followed, or at least tried to, shouting questions.


    But he blocked them out, not bothering to look back.


    This time, he wasn''t just running from the cave.


    He was running from everything.


    From fate itself.


    Fate wasn''t so easy to escape, though.


    Hours passed in a blink and Malik''s legs eventually gave out.


    He dropped to his knees, the ground scraping through his pants.


    His whole body shook¡ªnot from exhaustion, not from the hundreds of miles he''d run, but from the sheer weight of everything crashing down around him.


    Malik let Jasmine slip from his shoulder.


    She softly fell to the ground... still breathing.


    That made it worse.


    So much worse.


    Her right eyepletely ck.


    The darkness spilled out in jagged lines that crawled across her face like vines.


    Malik couldn''t even process it.


    His heart felt like it was shattering again, piece by piece.


    Each breath he took was like swallowing shards of ss.


    Every thought was a thorn, digging deeper and deeper into his soul.


    The pain was immense, unbearable.


    And yet¡ª


    It wasn''t like before.


    Not a single tear.


    No outburst, not even a tremor of sound.


    His whole body was just... cold.


    Empty.


    A hollow void where his emotions should have been.


    It was as if the very essence of who he was had been sucked out, leaving nothing but a shell that could do nothing but stare at her.


    That was all he did for what felt like years.


    She was all that he could see.


    And then, all of a sudden¡­


    His world spoke.


    He heard them.


    The words.


    Agonizing.


    Familiar.


    "Kill... me."

 Chapter 78 Housewife

    Malik stood at the edge of a smallke, skipping rocks across its calm surface.


    Jasmine sat nearby, her knees tucked up to her chest, watching the ripples spread across the water.


    Soft light cast long shadows through the trees, and for a moment, it felt¡­


    Peaceful.


    It was nice.


    Like everything was okay.


    But it wasn''t.


    Peace wasn''t something they got to have.


    After the Blink, he told Safira to stay behind and train.


    She had protested, of course¡ªshe always did¡ªbut he''d just told her he needed some air.


    To think, or whatever other nonsense came to mind.


    She eventually gave in, though not without giving him one of her signature res.


    Once she was out of sight, he turned to Jasmine.


    "Come with me."


    He gestured toward a distant forest.


    One of the many he ''visited'' during his little manic episode.


    She hesitated, her brow furrowing.


    "What for?"


    "Juste. Trust me, alright?"


    So she did.


    And now, here they were.


    Whoosh!


    Malik tossed another rock, watching it bounce three times before sinking.


    He grinned faintly, a rare sh of genuine pride.


    "Not bad for a first-timer, huh? You still can''t beat me at this, you know~."


    Jasmine sighed dramatically, picked up a stone, and lobbed it toward theke half-heartedly.


    It hit the water with a sad plop, sinking instantly.


    "Where did it go~?"


    She rolled her eyes.


    "Guess I''m out of practice."


    "Oh really?"


    "You know, being in a cage for so long kinda kills your hand-eye coordination."


    "Or maybe you just suck~."


    Malik continued his teasing, shing her a smirk she hadn''t seen in what felt like forever.


    Jasmine snorted, unable to help the chuckle that escaped her lips.


    "Yeah, maybe."


    They spent the next hour throwing rocks, making dumb jokes, and trading half-hearted insults, acting more like siblings than a teacher and student.


    For a little while, it was like the world outside the forest didn''t exist.


    No monsters, no danger, no pain... no Depravity.


    Just them.


    But the cracks were there, no matter how hard they tried to ignore them.


    Malik could see it in the way Jasmine''s hands trembled when she thought he wasn''t looking.


    In the way her jokes came out a bit too fast, like she was desperate to fill the silence.


    And then there was her right eye.


    Over the course of their walk through the forest, it had started to darken, just a little.


    Malik noticed it when the light hit her face just right.


    A subtle shadow creeping across the sclera, barely noticeable unless one was looking for it.


    He didn''tment about it, or even say anything that might rte to it.


    Neither did she... for the pain she undoubtedly felt.


    They just pretended.


    As their star dipped lower, the two of them wandered further into the woods.


    Malik led the way, his hands restingzily on his lower back as his boots kicked at the fallen branches scattered across the path.


    "You ever think about what you''d do if all this crap wasn''t happening?"


    Jasmine followed a few paces behind, her steps quieter, hesitant.


    "Like... if the, uh, world wasn''t trying to kill me? If I wasn''t captured like some stray? My parents killed? Sold for the highest bidder in the Holy City? Thrown in a cage for¡ª"


    "I get it, I get it... my bad, deep question, now enough with that... Tell me."


    She hummed softly, tapping her fingers against her thigh as she thought.


    "Dunno. Probably a h-housewife or something."


    Malik stopped dead in his tracks, turning to stare at her, half-amused, half-shocked.


    "... A housewife? Seriously?"


    Her cheeks flushed, and she crossed her arms defensively.


    "W-What''s wrong with that?"


    "Nothing."


    He grinned.@@novelbin@@


    "I just figured a kid like you would want to do something more freeing, like exploring the world or whatever."


    "Yeah, well..."


    She shrugged, her gaze dropping.


    "Maybe I''ve had enough moving around... just wanna rx somewhere."


    Malik''s grin faltered for half a second before he forced it back.


    "Fair enough. Guess I''ll just stick to being the cool one, then."


    Jasmine rolled her eyes, the corner of her lips tugging up despite herself.


    "Sure~... b-but aren''t you gonna ask who I''d like as my hubby to be?"


    At that, Malik immediately looked away, picking up his pace as if he could outrun the conversation.


    "No."


    Jasmine stumbled a little as she hurried to catch up, her voice rising in protest.


    "Why n-not?!"


    He kept his eyes fixed on the path ahead, not sparing her a nce.


    "Because it''s your personal life; ain''t got nothing to do with me."


    But she wasn''t letting it go.


    Her hands reached out, tugging lightly at his sleeve like a child vying for attention.


    "Y-Yes it does! It has everything to do with you."


    Malik stiffened but, using all that he was, managed to not pull away. Barely.


    "Arguable."


    Jasmine didn''t back down.


    Her hands dared to slide further up, wrapping around his own.


    It was an incredibly bold moveing from someone her age.


    "D-D-D-D-Don''t you want to be my hubby?"


    Ah, there it was.


    The dreaded question he had tried so hard to avoid.


    Malik let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had just doubled.


    "That''s... that''s a really cruel thing to ask, Jasmine."


    The sadness in his voice seemed to make her heart twist painfully.


    Find your next adventure on My Virtual Library Empire


    Even though she was the one that caused it. Quite ironic... yes?


    Slowly, she nced at him, then let go.


    Her lips pressed hard against each other as her thoughts began to swirl.


    Why? Why was he acting like this?


    Why was he joking and teasing her like he used to?


    Like he was trying to be the Malik who had saved her?


    That Malik, the one she was introduced to, was warm, brave, and impossibly kind.


    He made the darkness seem lighter, the danger feel a little less suffocating.


    Her hope and the others were worn by him like a mantle.


    It made them feel heard, feel special.


    But one random night... just at the beginning of their journey...


    That Malik was buried.


    What reced him was a bitter, defeated one.


    And now her savior was back, if only for a moment.


    Jasmine knew there was a reason for his change that night.


    Yet she wasn''t so curious.


    Though feeling bold, even she didn''t dare press further.


    At least not to the point that she''d ruin what she so hopelessly wanted.


    ...After all, she didn''t have long left.

 Chapter 79 Talk To Me

    For now, she wanted to have fun, not worry about this or that.


    Who cared about the details, yeah?


    She''d much rather enjoy her walk with him.


    The one who always had a snarkyeback...


    The one who made the world seem a little less cruel.


    But it wasn''t real.


    He could never truly go back to being ''that'' Malik again.


    This was just an act, a prize-worthy one for sure, but an act nevertheless.


    Perhaps Jasmine had long since figured this out and chose to ignore it.


    Chose to live in happy ignorance.


    Malik didn''t know.


    All he knew was what he could read off her face.


    And that... it told him that he was doing quite well.


    "Just answer t-the question."


    This did as well.


    "Hahhhh..."


    Malik let out a sigh, then reluctantly nodded his head.


    "Yes, of course~... Anyone would be lucky to have you."


    "...Hmph! Of course they would!"


    Though she knew his words were only said to appease her, they still made her happy.


    Extremely happy at that. To the point that she didn''t realize his dodging of the question.


    And so, they kept walking.


    Their banter grew softer as the trees around them grew denser, taller.@@novelbin@@


    The forest was alive with the sound of chirping critters and rustling leaves.


    But to Malik, it all felt muted¡ªlike the world was holding its breath.


    ...Jasmine''s steps had started to slow.


    Her breaths came a little heavier, a little shakier.


    He noticed but didn''t say anything.


    Didn''t have to.


    When they finally stopped again, it was at a small clearing, bathed in the cool blue light of dusk.


    Jasmine sank down onto the grass, leaning back on her hands.


    Malik plopped down beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed.


    "Nice night."


    "Yeah."


    Silence fell between them, heavy but not ufortable.


    Jasmine was the first to break it:


    "Thank you."


    Malik turned to look at her, confused.


    "For what?"


    "For this. For¡­ making me feel normal, even if it''s just for a little while."


    His throat tightened, but he forced a smile.


    "Well, you know me. Always going above and beyond."


    She smiled back, but it didn''t reach her dark gemstones for eyes.


    "¡­It''s enough."


    And then she said it, the words that brought an end to their y.


    "You should kill me before I lose control."


    Malik froze.


    "I..."


    His mind screamed at him to do something.


    To say something, but all he could do was sit there, staring at her.


    Like always, she wasn''t scared.


    She wasn''t tired either, nor relieved.


    No, she showed a whole new emotion.


    One he hadn''t seen throughout all his attempts.


    Content.


    This time she was... content.


    Without a word, Malik shifted, kneeling in front of her.


    He pulled her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her tightly.


    "M-Malik..."


    Jasmine hugged him back, her fingers gripping his shirt as if she never wanted to let go.


    "I l-love you... I¡ª"


    "I''ll remember you."


    His words cut through hers.


    Firm, final, and heart-shatteringly quiet.


    It happened too fast.


    Faster than he wanted.


    Faster than he could process.


    One moment, they were holding each other.


    Her warmth against him, her broken voice confessing love he didn''t deserve.


    And the next, calloused hands found their way to the confessor''s neck.


    They pressed hard, cutting off the blood flow to her brain.


    Her body almost instantly went limp in the confessed one''s arms.


    "I''m sorry."


    With utmost care, heid her on the grass.


    "Please..."


    She couldn''t hear him, not anymore, but he continued to whisper.


    "Forgive me."


    Then, his dagger did its job, quick and clean.


    "Because I sure won''t."


    A trickle of blood stained the earth.


    Jasmine''s chest rose and fell onest time before going still.


    "..."


    Malik stared at her for a while, unblinking.


    Despite the veins marring her skin...


    She looked so incredibly beautiful.


    A dark flower, blooming defiantly in its final moments, fragile yet hauntingly radiant.


    Her ck hair was spread across the grass like a tree''s roots.


    It was a sight that would''ve brought many to tears.


    Yet he was silent, unshaken.


    Gently, he closed her eyes, his fingers wavering as they lingered over her face.


    His gaze fell to her lips, still curved into the faintest hint of a smile.


    It was cruel.


    That smile was cruel.


    Because it felt like she was telling him it was okay.


    That it was all okay.


    It wasn''t.


    She was gone.


    And the world felt quieter than it ever had.


    Malik pulled his hand away like her skin had burned him and stood up.


    He walked a few steps and looked around, searching for a good spot for a grave.


    Like his first time doing this, when burying him... his little brother.


    The very one watching him right now.


    This dirt seemed stubborn, packed tight from years of rain and erosion.


    But Malik had grown stronger since then, much stronger.


    A signal stomp softened the hardened surface and a kick dug out much of it.


    He kicked repeatedly for a few seconds until more than six feet of dirt was out.


    Then, he dropped down, fixed it up a little, removing the excess dirt.


    Done with that, he returned to Jasmine, about to lift her body.


    Unfortunately, though, his arms wouldn''t cooperate.


    Malik just couldn''t find the strength to do so.


    She felt impossibly heavy as if the weight of her loss had manifested physically.


    "Hahaha¡­"


    Malik let out a bitterugh, copsing beside her.


    "You''re pretty heavy, you know."


    "You should think of losing weight sometime."


    "Maybe add that to your little bucket list..."


    "You know, the things you''d do after getting out of here."


    "Besides being a ''housewife or something.''"


    "Heh... Ahahahah! Still can''t believe you''ve said that, ahahaha..."


    Theughter quickly turned into something else.


    "Ah... Jasmine¡­"


    He turned toward her, his arms wrapping around her lifeless body, pulling her close.


    "Jasmine¡­ talk to me¡­"


    Tears dripped onto her bloodstained shirt, soaking through the fabric.


    "I''m Malik, you know¡­ I''m Malik¡­ I''m Malik¡­"


    Malik repeated the words like a broken prayer.


    His voice grew quieter with each utterance until only the faintest whisper remained.


    Then, he looked up, his golden eyes empty. Dead.


    "...Why?"


    He asked the heavens, though he didn''t expect an answer. Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire


    "¡­Actually, don''t bother... just don''t."


    But then, just before he could look away, he saw it.


    A massive crimson owl came into view, its pink glowing eyes boring into his soul.

 Chapter 80 Burn The Whole World I

    "..."


    The owl blinked.


    "¡­You again."


    Explore more adventures at My Virtual Library Empire@@novelbin@@


    Malik didn''t know whether tough, scream, or just ignore it.


    So instead, he just stared back, waiting for whatever came next.


    The crimson owl descended, its massive wings folding gracefully as itnded a few feet from him.


    "What do you want from me?... Why are you here?"


    "..."


    The owl didn''t respond, of course¡ªit was just a bird.


    But it didn''t feel like just a bird.


    Not this one.


    "Don''t get any closer."


    Malik tried to stand, instinctively reaching for his dagger.


    Unfortunately... his body refused to cooperate. Again.


    Every muscle felt like jelly, shaking to kingdome.


    It was what carrying her body, or at least attempting to, had done to him.


    "Move."


    He hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes of gold darting between the owl and Jasmine''s lifeless form.


    And yet move he could not.


    No matter how much he willed himself to.


    All he could do was watch as it stepped closer.


    Each one was slow as if it understood that he couldn''t stop it.


    But just when it was just a talon away from her body, it paused.


    The owl tilted its head as if studying her.


    "Back off!"


    Malik''s chest heaved.


    "I said back off!"


    The owl didn''t.


    It leaned down, its massive beak hovering dangerously close to her head.


    "NO! STOP!"


    His screams filled the forest, raw, but the owl ignored him.


    ck!


    Its beak snapped shut.


    He winced, bracing himself for the sickening sound of flesh tearing.


    But it never came.


    Instead, there was just¡­ softness.


    The owl''s beak had mped onto Jasmine''s clothes, not her body.


    Gently, almost reverently, it lifted her off the ground, her limp form swaying slightly as it rose.


    "What in the fuck¡­"


    Malik blinked, his fury fizzling into pure, dumb confusion.


    Still, the owl didn''t seem to care.


    It just kept dragging Jasmine toward the grave he''d dug earlier.


    The one meant to be her eternal home.


    He continued to watch as the bird went about its business.


    It acted like this was somehow the most normal thing in the world.


    And then, slowly, he felt his strength trickling back into his limbs.


    Malik wobbled as he got to his feet, legs shaky like a newborn fawn.


    "Hey¡­"


    He called out weakly, his voicecking its earlier venom.


    The owl ignored him.


    It was in the middle of a burial and it wasn''t about to be distracted.


    With a kind of gentleness he didn''t know a creature that size could have, the bird lowered her body into the grave.


    It adjusted her like it was tucking her into bed, making sure she rested just right.


    Malik just stood there, ck-jawed and too stunned to say anything.


    When it finally finished, the owl turned its glowing eyes on him.


    For a moment, neither of them moved.


    They just stared at each other, like two stumbling idiots.


    Then, it turned back to the grave and began shoving dirt into it with its beak.


    The sight of it¡ªthis giant, crimson bird doing something so¡­ human¡ªstirred something in him.


    It was weird, almost unsettling, how gentle it was, like it understood what this all meant.


    For a second, Malik swore he could see Sinbad in the damn thing.


    Just a flicker... a flicker of the boy he so desperately missed.


    The way it moved, the care it showed¡ªit was almost too familiar.


    He''d heard it before, you know?


    People say when you''re grieving, you start seeing the ones you lost in everything and everyone.


    Or in Malik''s case, apparently, a massive owl.


    Sure, they had the same colored ''hair'' and eyes, but still... an owl?


    It was stupid; he knew it.


    Just his mind ying tricks on him.


    But did it really matter?


    Whether it was his brain throwing memories at him or just some weird cosmic coincidence...


    He didn''t care.


    It made him pause, just for a second.


    Made him hesitate a little longer before joining in, scooping up handfuls of dirt with trembling hands.


    They worked together, man and beast, neither letting out a sound.


    When the grave was finally filled, Malik sat back, staring at the freshly packed earth.


    His eyes scanned the ground until theynded on a t stone nearby.


    Dragging himself over to it, he picked it up and set it at the head of the grave.


    Pulling out his dagger, he started carving.


    Each stroke was rough, jagged, and uneven.


    But, again, he didn''t care. It was enough.


    Soon, the name {JASMINE} stood out against the pale surface...


    Her mark on the world.


    Malik ced the makeshift tombstone at the head of the grave, then crouched down.


    "Jasmine..."


    His lips brushed the cold surface, lingering there for a long moment.


    "Remember me. Remember me... but please... please forget my fate."


    The owl moved again, its massive frame lowering until its head came to rest on his back.


    It was heavy, incredibly so, but he didn''t pull away from it.


    For the first time in what felt like years, he let himself feel thefort of something.


    Anything. Even if it was this strange, otherworldly bird he couldn''t begin to understand.


    He closed his eyes, his hand trembling as it brushed over the its feathers.


    They weren''t what he expected¡ªsofter, warmer in a way that seemed almost impossible for something so eerie.


    "Thank you."


    With that, he pulled away, his hand patting it onest time.


    The owl blinked slowly, tilting its head in that weird, knowing way it had.


    Like it got it. Like it understood everything he couldn''t say, even acknowledging his gratitude.


    Bewildered, Malik shook his head, stood up, turned, and began walking away.


    Yet before he left, his gaze fell on Sinbad, who still leanedzily against the same tree.


    But then, just as quickly as he was there, he wasn''t.


    In his ce, glowing faintly against the bark, were words that twisted the knife in his chest just a little deeper:


    {You getting used to this, huh?}


    He blinked, and the words didn''t disappear; they only changed.


    {Just how many more times will it take?}


    Again.


    {When will you learn? When? Tell me... your little brother, your responsibility.}


    Again.


    {Maybe Safira has to die for you to understand. Understand that you are nothing.}


    Again.


    {Waste. Trash. Loser. Coward. Idiot. Weakling. Liar. Fraud. Fool. Failure. Burden. Mistake. Fake. Pathetic. Worthless. Spineless. Nobody. Clown. Joke. Disgrace. Wreck. Shell. Cripple. Hollow. Nothing. Dirt. Scrub. Deadweight. Baggage. Mess. Wretch. Scrap. Husk. Rot. Degenerate. Castoff. Reject. Fluke. Stain. Muck. Defect. Pest. Stench. Ruin. Feeble. Flea. Crutch. Outcast. Ghost. Cretin. Dreg. Gutter. Stump. Durd. Smudge. Pus.}


    A bitterugh escaped him.


    "Am I that bad?... Asshole."


    Malik waved a hand, dispelling the illusion for good, and continued on his way.


    He didn''t look back.


    The owl didn''t follow.


    This was their goodbye.


    Now... the forest was quiet¡ªtoo quiet.


    It made him feel like he was the only person left in the world.


    ''...Jasmine.''


    He told himself not to think.


    ''Jasmine.''


    Not to feel.


    ''Jasmine.''


    But with every step, her name echoed louder and louder in his head.


    And so, to quell her screams, he walked faster, busying his mind.


    Stopping now wasn''t an option.


    Stopping meant remembering.


    And remembering...


    It was Hell.

 Chapter 81 Burn The Whole World II

    ***


    {Capital City Of The Inside, The Holy Land}


    {Al-Sayf Mansion}


    Huda had essentially lost the plot.


    A sobbing mess, she sat on her bed, knees pulled to her chest.


    Snot, tears, and whatever else was on her face.


    Yet, she didn''t seem to care, her image an afterthought.


    The memories... oh, those damn memories.


    It pained her to see him so gone... so lost.


    She knew this to be all her fault.


    And the projection''s only purpose seemed to be her constant reminder of that.


    It just... continued to y out like some twisted joke that she could not block out no matter how hurt she was.


    Her hands gripped the sheets so tightly they were starting to tear, but that was thest thing on her mind at that moment.


    She''d seen a lot of things in her long life¡ªlike a lot. A lot.


    Sad, depressing, just straight nightmare-inducing.


    But this?


    This was next level.


    It took the cake and ate it.


    "W-What... what did he do?"


    Huda felt sick, unintentionally repeating his own question.


    "What did he do to deserve this?"


    She nced at the projection, eyesnding on Malik for just a moment.


    Yet even that felt a little too long... a little too hard.


    It wasn''t the burial that broke her, not really.


    She cared not for Jasmine''s death.


    Sure, it was a sad moment, a really sad moment.


    One that made her tear up a little, but... as bad as it might sound, that was all.


    It wasn''t what twisted her heart into knots.


    It wasn''t what made her want to scream or copse or just stop altogether.


    It was him. Malik.


    The unshakable, maddening, stupidly noble big brother.


    He was the one who turned her into this mess.


    "Why... why even continue?"


    "You''ve done your best."


    "Just leave her."


    But of course, he didn''t. He wouldn''t.


    She knew that much, and that was part of what made it worse.


    Because that same broken sense of responsibility, the one driving him into the ground now, had saved her once.


    And Sinbad too... at least until a time.


    For seven whole days, he''d kept them alive against all odds.


    Seven days of Hell. Seven days where she didn''t think she''d make it to the next hour, let alone see the Shams rise again. She owed him her life. She owed him. Twice at that.


    But dammit, what kind of hypocrite does that make her?


    To want him to stop, to let go, when he never did so with them?


    It burned, the contradiction of it. Like swallowing ss and feeling every shard settle in her chest.


    Here, her logic was nearly nonexistent, but when was that really considered in the matter of emotions?


    Huda wanted him to care less, to let himself breathe for once.


    But wasn''t that what made him Malik?


    The guy who couldn''t stand to let anyone down, even at his own expense?


    It both made her proud and pissed her off.


    "Idiot. You absolute idiot."


    Her voice cracked and more tears stung her eyes.


    She swiped at her face, refusing to let them fall.


    "Always¡ªNo... Wait."


    Huda stood up so fast her head spun.


    "NOPE. Nope, nope, nope."


    She started pacing, hands waving like she was arguing with someone.


    "This is NOT how this ends!"


    Her mind pieced things together faster than her mouth could keep up.


    That owl... The crimson one.


    Anyone could see that it wasn''t just some random monster.


    That was obvious even to the retarded.


    But she realized something more...


    "...No way. No freakin'' way."


    She rushed to her mirror stand, grabbed a cloak, and practically threw it over herself before bolting out the window, flying high up into the dark sky, above the mountainousndscape, nearing the twelve moons.


    "It''s still alive!"


    ...


    {The Holy Pce, The Hall of Records}


    Noor''s guards barely had time to blink before a hidden figure stormed past, her presence a storm in itself.


    "Hey, you can''t¡ª"


    One of them started, stepping forward, but he didn''t even get to finish.


    Her pink eyes shed, sharp as knives, and that was enough to glue his boots to the floor.


    Whatever sense of duty he had evaporated on the spot.


    The other guards exchanged a quick, panicked nce, not understanding why she was let go.


    One of them moved as if to follow, but the first of them grabbed his arm, shaking his head.


    "Not worth it."


    Huda''s steps thundered through the corridors, straight toward the massive double doors leading to the Hall of Records, a ce deep within the Holy Pce, once protected by thousands of soldiers.


    It stored all there was to store about Devil''s Maw and beyond, making it the perfect ce to hide something, someone, or in this case, a Goddamn monster.


    Decorum and consequences be damned; she needed to confirm the truth.


    Entering an open area, she skidded to a stop and turned left, just before the doors.


    They towered above her, glowing faintly withyered Aether seals.


    "OPEN IT."


    Hermand echoed through the chamber, filled with enough authority to make even the most stubborn bureaucrat flinch.


    Two attendants stationed nearby froze like critters caught in a Roc''s sight.


    They exchanged wide-eyed, frantic looks, their hands hovering nervously over their swords.


    "L-Lady Huda... Our apologies, but the Hall of Records is strictly off-limits. The Light Empress herself ordered¡ª"


    "I don''t give a damn what Noor ordered! Open the doors, or I''ll rip them off myself!"


    "Mdy, please! This section is restricted even for¡ª"


    "Did I stutter?"


    She stepped closer, her fists mming into the heavy doors with a deafening BANG!


    The Aether seals flickered, making the attendants flinch.


    "I am the Former Sultan''s niece! You will open this door. Or do you dare bar entry to the Magi who once owned this fucking pce?! TELL ME! Do you want to exin to Noor why the''s sword just leveled half the Holy Pce?!"


    The attendants paled.


    One of them swallowed hard and nodded quickly, scrambling toward the seals.


    "N-No, Lady Huda. We understand. Right away!"


    The other hesitated, his eyes scanning her figure.


    She raised a single brow, daring him to dy further.


    "R-Right away, Lady Huda!"


    He nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to join his partner.


    With trembling hands, the two attendants began to input their Aether into the seals, forming a precise pattern in the air, one that only they knew.


    The symbols glowed brighter, interlocking like the gears of a gigantic clock.


    And just as thest symbol clicked into ce, the doors groaned in protest, seemingly ancient mechanisms grinding to life.


    Slowly, they began to part, revealing a dark hall.@@novelbin@@


    Huda didn''t wait for them to finish.


    The moment there was enough space, she shoved her way through.


    sh!


    In response to her entry, themps that lined both walls had returned to life.


    "...Wow."


    Her breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight before her.


    The Hall of Records was massive¡ªseriously, massive.


    Even bigger than the Sultan''s Hall itself.


    It made no sense structurally, but that didn''t confuse her.


    She expected the ce to have spatial runes installed, just not this many.


    Rows upon rows of shelves stretched out so far, they might have needed a whole army of scribes just to map it out.


    Scrolls, Grimores, Holy Relics, books, weird glowing artifacts¡ªpretty much everything short of a talking skull on a stick was crammed in there.


    "Big brother really worked hard... Back then, Uncle Cyrus had only half of the stuff in here."


    Huda wandered deeper, boots echoing on the tiled floor.


    "Okay, Huda, where would he hide his pet, huh?"


    The answer came quick.


    "Magical secretpartment... probably."


    Her gaze bounced from dusty shelves to glittering disy cases.


    Some held ordinary-looking items¡ªvases, old coins, a busted sword¡ªbut others?


    Weird stuff.


    Like a jar with a swirling silver mist inside or a set of golden scales that hummed.


    Then she saw it.


    A little crimson owl statue.


    It sat on a pedestal, tucked away in one of the side alcoves like it didn''t want to be found but still couldn''t help showing off.


    Its pink eyes gleamed faintly, and the feathers?


    The detail was crazy good, life-like almost.


    Like someone had carved it for years and then gave it a soul.


    "Oh my god, look at you!"


    Huda grinned, making a beeline for it.


    "So cuuuuteee~."


    Before she could go to town on it, she bent down, squinting to see if it had a que or something simr.


    Nope. No runes, no fancy mechanisms, no signs screaming, {Caution: Don''t Touch.}


    Which meant¡­ totally safe, right?


    Huda reached out, running her fingers over its feathered back.


    "Aw, soft-looking but not actually soft. You''re like¡­ the perfect mix of cute and useless. Love it."


    She gave it a little pat for good measure andughed softly when its head wobbled slightly under her hand.


    "Oh nooo, look at you. You''ve got a bobblehead thing going on. This is amazing."


    And then¡ªbecause self-control was for people who didn''t just storm through forbidden doors¡ªshe ruffled its feathers again, pulling it closer like it was her new favorite pet.


    Click.


    Her hand froze mid-pat.


    "Oh..."


    The wall behind the pedestal shuddered, groaning like it hadn''t moved in a decade.


    Stone scraped against stone as a hidden passageway slowly revealed itself, dark but also inviting.


    Huda blinked.


    Then she grinned.


    "Well, well, well... Looks like I''ve found that magical secretpartment."


    She nced at the statue, still tilted forward in its awkward pose.


    "Good work, little buddy. You''re my favorite now."


    And without wasting another second, she stepped into the hidden corridor.


    Lights lit up like earlier, and there...


    "You really are alive!"


    There, in the center of the room, sat in a golden cage, was the crimson owl.


    It was massive, even bigger up close than it had seemed in the projection.


    Its glowing pink eyes turned to her like two pools of sorrow.


    Tears dripped steadily from them, carving faint trails into the gold beneath it. Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire


    Huda''s chest tightened and her merry mood was almost immediately gone.


    She approached slowly, her voice trembling as she whispered:


    "You''re still alive..."


    The owl didn''t move, didn''t even acknowledge her presence.


    It just sat there, its gaze fixed on the darkness ahead as if it were lost in memories too painful to bear.


    "I don''t know what you are, being able to live this long... changing your size and color. I don''t know why you''re still here either... But one thing''s obvious."


    Those words made it finally acknowledge the intruder, turning its head to face her.


    "You cared about him, didn''t you?"


    She stepped closer.


    "About Jasmine. About Malik... Loved them even."


    The owl blinked slowly, another tear rolling down its cheek.


    "If you cared..."


    Huda swallowed hard.


    "Then help me. Help him. Because if we don''t do something... he''s going to die."


    For a moment, the owl didn''t move.


    Then, almost imperceptibly, it nodded.


    Her heart skipped a beat.


    "Good."


    This wasn''t over.


    Not by a long shot.

 Chapter 82 Burn The Whole World III

    ***


    {Sultan''s Hall}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    It was suffocatingly silent.


    Truly. The audience felt unable to speak.


    Every single pair of eyes stared at the projection.


    Malik''s anguished figure still fresh in their minds...


    His trembling hands. His powerless body. His quiet mind.


    The way his lips had barely managed to form those final words.


    "Remember me... but forget my fate."


    What did he even mean by that?


    It was such a simple thing to say, yet it hit like a boulder.


    Was he asking them to honor his memory but let go of the misery that came with it?


    To see him as more than just some tragic figure?


    Or maybe he didn''t want to be remembered as the kid who couldn''t escape whatever Hell had chained him down.


    Maybe he wanted to be remembered for the fight, not the fall.


    For the person he was, not the ending he couldn''t avoid.


    It was like he was begging them not to let his life be just another sad story. Like he didn''t want pity. Like he didn''t want to be mourned forever.


    A plea to hold on to the best parts of him, even if the worst was all they could see right now.


    ...How could a boy no older than thirteen utter such things?


    The world deemed him a man, but he wasn''t... not really.


    He was still a boy.


    On some level, they all realized that.


    Didn''t mean they''d processed it, though.


    That was another matter entirely.


    Then... there was Jasmine''s grave.


    Her crude gravestone was etched in their memories.


    Oh, the tragedy.


    One in its purest form.


    Oh, the pain.


    One given shape.


    What a cruel world his was.


    Tap...


    All of a sudden, some Magi in the audience shifted, only slightly.


    Yet even that faint sound felt like a vition of the moment.


    Still, no one bothered to reprimand them.


    Their minds were on him. Find exclusive stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    The Sultan.


    What could they say?


    What words could possibly do justice to what they witnessed?


    No matter who it was, no matter how much they hated him, they all felt... somber.@@novelbin@@


    Yes... somber. For theck of a better word. Their minds not that of an author''s.


    Even the blondie couldn''t gain pleasure from this.


    She was enjoying herself at first, but as the blinks went on...


    As a familiar madness was projected...


    As a kid was cut up. Dissected.


    Another mentally tortured.


    Her joy dissipated.


    It wasn''t fun anymore.


    It was just... sad.


    And that was something the whole world would likely agree on.


    "...Well, that sucked."


    Then, Azeem broke the silence.


    It was like a dam bursting.


    "Sucked?!"


    "That was fucking devastating!"


    "Are you even human?!"


    "Don''t act like you''re unfazed, Sir Azeem!"


    They were going to go on and on, letting out all their feelings into him, but then...


    He turned around to face them.


    "..."


    The chaos came to an abrupt halt. Words frozen mid-air.


    It wasn''t the act itself that silenced them.


    No, not everyone in the crowd feared him.


    It was the tears.


    That was what shut them up.


    They slipped from his red eyes, one after another.


    No dramatic sobbing, no anger¡ªjust pain spilling down his face.


    And the worst part?


    He didn''t wipe them away.


    He didn''t try to hide it.


    He let them fall freely.


    Unashamed.


    Now, Azeem wasn''t just their Sultan''s right hand¡ªhe was a man.


    Just a man.


    And it showed.


    Those memories looked like they hit him the hardest after Safira, who was already a sobbing mess.


    La had her arms around her, trying her best tofort her.


    But it wasn''t working much, and she wasn''t doing much better either.


    Unlike Huda, though, the two weren''t left alone in their grief.


    Their respective camps were all around them, whispering reassurances, shielding them from their own emotions bing a spectacle, their image protected.


    A stark contrast, for sure.


    It followed a trend the "hero" wasn''t so fond of.


    Zafar kept quiet, though. He''d learned better after thest time.


    Now? He''d wait. The uing massacres would do all the talking for him.


    Besides, even he wasn''t about to ruin this moment.


    The woman was grieving for her lost friend.


    Only dumbass monsters would disturb her.


    "Are we just gonna ignore the Uluka that buried her like some fuckin'' gravekeeper?"


    But then, of course, the dumbass leader had to ruin it.


    Everyone else ignored himpletely, diving straight back into their own spiraling emotions.


    "WHY DOES EVERYONE HE LOVES DIE?!"


    "I don''t know what''s worse¡ªthe fact that the Sultan didn''t cry at the end or that I did... He''s a tyrant for fuck''s sake!"


    "Right?! Same, brother. Same¡­"


    "I mean, I figured she''d die since she''s not here with us, but¡ª"


    "Yeah, didn''t think it''d be like this, though."


    "I''m gonna off my past self who thought it was a good fucking idea to watch this!"


    "I thought we''d watch something satisfying... not this. I swear it''s like tragedy porn."


    "What did you guys expect? For him to be evil just for the sake of it? There had to be something that twisted him into bing the Sultan we know."


    "Not really¡ª"


    "Shut up. Those are outliers."


    "Well, I understand that there was context. But why¡­ why does a thirteen-year-old have to keep burying people?!"


    "What did he do to deserve this?"


    "At this point¡­"


    One voice trailed off before muttering bitterly:


    "I''d say it''s only fair if he just¡­ lost it already."


    Someone groaned.


    "Did you see his face at the end? I''ve never seen someone look so¡­ so¡­"


    "Empty?"


    "Yeah. Like he''s just done with everything."


    The chatter continued to build until a deafening CRACK echoed through the hall.


    Everyone stiffened a slight bit, mentally readying themselves forbat.


    "Who is¡ª"


    Before Zafar could finish his sentence, one of the hall''s massive double doors was kicked open with a force that shook the walls.


    Every head turned to the entrance, hands near their weapons.


    A gust of wind swept through, heavy, pushing their bodies down a tad.


    Then they saw it.


    The crimson owl.


    HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!

 Chapter 83 Burn The Whole World IV

    HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!


    Like a cute menace from Hell, the owl''s pink, glowing eyes scanned the hall, sizing up its prey while standing still in the doorway, taking up most of it.


    Huda was perched on its back, seemingly unbothered by themotion her arrival caused.


    "Hey everyone~!"


    She leaned forward slightly, her face a mix of irritation and barely concealed fury.


    "The ''Coward'' is back!"


    Hoot!


    Their loud voices carried effortlessly over the stunned silence.


    "Does anyone have a problem with that?"


    Hoot?!


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    No one answered.


    Huda smirked.


    "Didn''t think so."


    The owl took a step forward, its talons clicking against the marble floor.


    "I see almost everyone already bailed... So I guess none of you mind if we take the front seats, right?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Still nothing.


    Even if the ce were packed, no one would have protested.


    Huda was the only one twisted enough to stand within the projection''s pain-sharing perimeter¡ªfor a reason as ridiculous as "atoning."


    Satisfied, she gave the bird a light tap.


    "Would you move, Mr. Crimson?"


    It obliged with a nod, its massive form gliding through the parted sea of people.


    For that long moment, the projection behind them was forgotten.


    All eyes were on it and Huda, wondering what fresh chaos was about to unfold.


    Once she reached the front, next to others of simr status, she slid off the bird''s back.


    Her sandals hit the floor with a solid thud, and she gave the crowd a sweeping look, her eyes catching their shocked expressions.


    Then, with a casual flick of her wrist, she gestured at her new friend.


    "It ain''t the first time you''ve met this one. I''m sure you''ve put two and two together by now."


    Safira, still sniffling, wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.


    Her camp, ever attentive, parted without a word to give her an unobstructed view of "Mr. Crimson."


    "Is..."


    She blinked, eyes wide as she took it, or rather, him in.


    "Is that really his pet?"


    Huda nodded, crossing her arms.


    "Yep. Same one. Looks like Crimson figured out how to switch up HIS color and size after meeting my brother."


    She smirked, gesturing for the owl with both hands.


    "Anyways, everyone, this is Crimson. Go on, say hi, Crimson."


    The owl responded on cue, letting out his signature hoot!


    Safira''s gaze softened as recognition set in.


    She was sure of it now... this was the same owl she often saw sitting on Malik''s shoulder. Only instead of being normal-sized, whatever that meant, and entirely ck, it dwarfed humans and was of the brightest colors, matching Al-Sayf in theme.


    "N-Nice to meet you again, Mr. Crimson."


    The owl blinked slowly, his massive wings rustling as if to acknowledge her greeting.


    "Crimson?"


    Azeem snorted, clearly unimpressed.


    "That''s the best you coulde up with? A bit on the nose, isn''t it?"


    Huda shot him a look so sharp it could''ve cut stone.


    "You wanna test how on the nose my friend here can get? Feel free to step closer."


    He raised both hands, feigning surrender.


    "Oh no~... I''m good. But I gotta ask, where did you find it?"


    "HIM. The Hall of Records. Some hidden chamber. We talked a little, and we clicked, ain''t that right, cutey?"


    Hoot!


    "So yeah, guess he liked my vibe."


    "...Vibe?"


    "Yeah."


    She repeated, deadpan:


    "Vibe."


    While they went back and forth, a few groups within the crowd began to close in on the owl, each one for a different reason.


    "Is it really the same bird?"


    "Isn''t it just a mutated Uluka?"


    "Ain''t it too dangerous to keep it here?


    "Can we pet it, uh, him?!"


    Huda raised her hands to quiet the crowd.


    "Look, Crimson isn''t here to hurt anyone¡ªunless I say so. And no, you can''t pet him. He''s not a barnyard chicken. Besides, he doesn''t allow anyone but me to touch him."


    The owl red his wings slightly as if agreeing.


    "Now..."


    Huda continued, throwing away her cloak, and brushing nonexistent dust from her dress.


    "Are we done gawking, or do I need to start charging admission?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Seeing that they backed off, she stopped wasting time, and her gazended on Roya, the information broker.


    She leaned slightly forward, her tone firm but casual, like she wasn''t asking at all.


    "Roya, I need a favor."


    The hall tensed. Readtest stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    Roya blinked at her, unimpressed, then raised a single brow.@@novelbin@@


    "Do you now?"


    "Yeah."


    Huda shrugged like it was no big deal.


    "Don''t let it slip that I''m here at the Holy Pce. No messages. No whispers. Nothing. Can you do that for me?"


    "..."


    Roya stared at her for a long, nk moment.


    She didn''t ask what Huda nned or why she was being so bold.


    Instead, she kept her thoughts to herself, having them culminate into a single sentence.


    ''She really is a brat... asking for favors while giving nothing in return.''


    After a beat, Roya sighed and gave azy nod.


    "Fine. But not because you asked nicely. It''s better this way for everyone. Can''t have war when we''ve got no Sultan on the Holy Throne."


    Huda nodded, not even bothering to thank her. And of course, she wouldn''t.


    Gratitude wasn''t her style, especially not when this favor wasn''t about her pride.


    She wasn''t protecting herself¡ªit was about Al-Sayf. She didn''t want her people caught in the fallout of whatever she was about to do. And it was clear to everyone what that something was.


    Zafar was the first to frown, the most worried out of the group.


    Though he expected more of the "heroines" to stutter on hating the "viin," this...


    ''Dammit!''


    This came out of left field. He seriously didn''t expect such a tant betrayal.


    She had to know that she was up against those of simr and higher Divine Rank.


    She had to know that disabling a Ten Commandment was impossible, especially for someone who isn''t even a Mal¨¡k.


    Its w wouldn''t allow her to.


    The Holy Relic would bring death upon whoever tried to stop it frompletely refining its prisoner into Aether.


    Huda had to know that. She had to.


    So why do this? Why bring trouble to already troubled times?


    Was he someone that precious to her? Even after all the evil he did?

 Chapter 84 Burn The Whole World V

    The "hero''s" brown eyes darted to the massive owl, then back to Huda.


    Those questions...


    ''Emotions are confusing.''


    He didn''t know the answer to them.


    Zafar didn''t say a word to her, but the tension in his shoulders spoke volumes.


    Huda, though, didn''t leave him or the others guessing for long.


    "I''m sure you all realized this already, but I''m here to get my big brother out of those damn chains."


    She pointed at the throne behind the projection where his body sat.


    He looked the same as he did for all those years, minus the chains, of course.


    "I''m going to save him from execution, no matter the cost."


    Her tone was almost matter-of-fact.


    ''Of course...''


    Zafar''s jaw tightened.


    ''A rebellion. An insurrection against me, the soon-to-be Sultan.''


    And her first ally in this war?


    That towering, bright-eyed owl perched like a guardian behind her.


    But then, before anyone could follow up with what she announced...


    "Rx though."


    Huda raised a hand, palm up, as if signaling peace.


    "I''m not attacking. Not yet."


    Zafar blinked, as did the group, caught off guard.


    "I''ll wait."


    She continued, leaning casually against Crimson.


    "We''ll hold off until more people join us. No sense in charging in and getting squashed like bugs. I know my limits."


    Her words were cool but there was a fire in her eyes that no one missed.


    "Save the battle forter."


    The hall fell silent, her deration hanging heavy in the air. Read thetest on My Virtual Library Empire


    Noor exchanged a nce with Roya and they shared a slow nod.


    "Are you doing this as the Family Head of Al-Sayf, Huda? Or is this just you, a lone Magi, running on unfounded arrogance?"


    Huda didn''t answer immediately.


    Her gaze flicked to Noor''s, unflinching.


    She held it for a moment, then let a small smirk creep onto her lips.


    "Latter... This isn''t about Al-Sayf. This is me. Alone."


    "Good. Because if you''d said otherwise, I''d have to ensure Al-Sayf never recovered from the disgrace you''re about to bring them."


    The casual venom in Noor''s words didn''t faze her.


    If anything, she seemed amused.


    "I''d expect nothing less, Your Highness."


    Noor''s sharp gaze narrowed slightly at the title, but she didn''t rise to the bait.


    "You''re reckless. Always have been. But this? This isn''t just reckless. It''s suicidal."


    Huda shrugged her shoulders.


    "Maybe."


    "...That''s it?"


    Roya, who had been silent, observing from the side, finally spoke up.


    "You know you''re going up against a Ten Commandment, right? And not just that¡ªthe hero''s with us. Though he isn''t the sharpest stone in the pile, he more than makes up for it with his strength and extraordinary luck. The Holy Pce itself won''t sit idle either. You will be humiliated, and it isn''t something you could escape by dying."


    "I know. My name will be smeared to oblivion."


    She tilted her head slightly at Huda''s quick reply, studying her.


    "Then why?"


    She hesitated for the first time, her smirk fading just slightly.


    "Because I owe him my life."


    Noor''s brows rose ever so slightly.


    "You''re still on that? Owing and whatever? After everything he''s done?"


    "Yes. Nothing has changed."


    "I don''t think you''ve forgotten that he stole half your family''s treasury, killed your uncle, and massacred those you rule."


    "I owe him."


    Noor''s eyes softened slightly¡ªnot withpassion, but with disappointment.


    "You''re throwing your life away. And for that? To save someone who doesn''t deserve it."


    "I OWE him... how many times do I have to say it for you to understand?"


    "...Huda, you can''t be serious."


    "I am. This isn''t about what he''s done. It''s about doing what''s right. At least for me."


    Roya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.


    "We''ll kill you."


    Huda''s smirk returned.


    "If ites to that, so be it. I wouldn''t expect anything less from you two."


    As their death match of words came to an end, Safira and La, who stayed quiet throughout, began to speak:


    "We... we won''t change our stance."


    "We''ll stay neutral."


    That was both a surprise and a heavy weight off Zafar''s shoulders.


    If their endless tears were any indication, he expected them to be next, boarding the insurrection train.


    But it appeared that though they deeply felt for him, they knew better than to bring him back into the world.


    Or perhaps they still couldn''t let go of what he had done to their people.


    La''s father was killed by him long before they married, and Safira was abandoned.


    When they met again, he killed many of her nsmen and abandoned her a second time.


    So, if thought about in more depth, their decision was an expected one. Rather, if such things happened to anyone else, they would''ve acted even more extreme than Noor and Roya. Demanding his head be on a spike.


    Their personalities and sheer love for him had brought them out of such a fate.


    Whether that was a good or bad thing had yet to be seen.


    The real surprise, though, came from Azeem, who usually had something to say.


    This time he stayed silent, his gaze fixed on Huda, signs of a smile making their way to his lips.


    He seemed... proud? Right proud.


    It wasn''t obvious for what exactly but Huda was the object of that emotion.


    Not liking that look, Zafar ended the silence, ignoring theirments about him.@@novelbin@@


    "So what now? I say we wait. I know she''ll change her mind."


    "I agree..."


    Noor followed with a slow nod.


    "We''ll wait."


    Roya chimed in, making sure she understood the obvious:


    "But don''t think for a second this puts us on your side."


    Huda shook her head.


    "Wouldn''t dream of it."


    And that was that.


    For all their schemes, it seemed thatziness prevailed in the end.


    Their long age had dulled their sense of time, as it did their urgency.


    Sure, if Huda continued as she was and more Magi, for whatever asinine reason, began to join her fold, then their fight would result in a lot more trouble than now, but still...


    The end would not change.


    No matter how many they be, Malik, their Sultan, WILL die.


    Well, unless a God interfered, but that was impossible...


    Right?

 Chapter 85 Burn The Whole World VI

    With their attention back on the projection, they watched as a hunched figure stumbled his way toward the cave.


    Unlike usual, this ''figure'' wasn''t... dignified, noble-looking, no, not even close.


    The dude was swaying like he was one step away from eating dirt, each step looking more like a suggestion than an actual decision.


    Fast, sure, but also clumsy¡ªlike he wasn''t even sure where he was going, just that he had to keep moving.


    For a solid minute, no one said a word.


    Was it even him?


    Malik?


    Their Sultan?


    The same man who sat on the throne like he owned the ce?


    This wasn''t him. Couldn''t be. This guy was¡­ empty.


    Like someone had truly ripped out his soul and left the rest behind to rot.


    ...He just looked so wrecked.


    And the background wasn''t helping his case.


    Just endless gray, all muted and lifeless. Almost as if thendscape itself had given up on trying.


    "Man, even the world''s in despair."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    No oneughed.


    They were too busy watching this hollow shell before them.


    It didn''t take long for him to reach the cave.


    It housed the one who had once been a flicker of color in his bleak, miserable world.


    "I''m back."


    But as he stepped inside, and Sofia came into view, he paused.


    He looked at her¡ªor at least, what was supposed to be her.


    Tiny, childlike hands clutched at her skin, smothering her features and hiding everything except her eyes¡ªeyes that wept streaks of red, dripping down her cheeks like fresh blood.


    Her body wasn''t any better, a grotesque mockery of what it once was.


    It would contort in impossible ways and then return in the next moment like nothing had ever happened.


    "Wee back."


    Her voice was warped, too low and sluggish, as if echoing from underwater.


    "What?!"


    Gasps rippled through the hall at that scene.


    "Are you saying this is how he sees the world?"


    "No fucking way!"


    "It''s no wonder he frowned all the time..."


    "How did he even function?"


    "This¡­ this is beyond just seeing things."


    "This is a nightmare."


    In response to their words, the projection stuttered for a moment before a text box appeared at the bottom.


    {Note: Due to Malik''s deteriorating mental state, the projection will adjust to ignore his passive hallucinations. Saturation levels, which are unnaturally muted, will be disyed as normal, and facial features, which are unrecognizable due to his inability to perceive them properly, will be simted.}


    The projection continued, showing Malik sitting against the cave wall, staring nkly at Sofia.


    "Where''s Jasmine?"


    "..."


    Malik didn''t respond, his hand gripping his dagger''s hilt tightly.


    His knuckles were white, his shoulders tense.


    "He''s not even looking at... her."


    "Could you?!"


    "The question isn''t how he managed... It''s why he didn''t break sooner."


    "I don''t think I''ll everin about my life again."


    A chuckle resounded, humorless and bitter.


    "Yeah, no kidding. Imagine waking up every day to that."


    "Forget waking up... Imagine sleeping, knowing that''s what you''ll see tomorrow, too."


    The hall fell silent once more, Malik''s reality pressing down on them all.


    Then, as if sensing the need to break the tension, Crimson let out a loud hoot!


    Huda scratched and patted its side.


    "Guess that''s his way of saying, ''Suck it up.''"


    A few weakughs followed, but most still stared at the frozen projection, their thoughts far too heavy to voice.


    They weren''t the only ones.


    La''s hands trembled, her expression hardening, barely stopping the tears from flowing.


    Safira, on the other hand, didn''t bother to hide the tears that slipped down her cheeks.


    Neither said a word, but their unspoken thoughts filled the air.


    It made them forget anything else, even the massive owl right behind them.


    This wasn''t just shocking; it was devastating.


    Because now they understood.


    Now they knew why Malik had never reacted to their beauty.


    Why he always seemed so¡­ distant, so nk.


    It didn''t matter how they approached him, how earnestly they tried to connect.


    His responses were always the same: empty stares, devoid of warmth.


    It wasn''t because Safira was inadequate as a disciple or that La wascking as his wife.


    No, it wasn''t their failure.


    They were just¡­ unfortunate.


    Unfortunate to exist in a world where his heart had already been torn apart and buried with something¡ªor someone¡ªthey couldn''t rece.


    And that hurt them far more than rejection ever could because they...


    They had realized that they never had a chance in the first ce.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Safira stopped cultivating entirely.


    She just sat there, her hands resting limply on her knees, her eyes locked onto him.


    Her expression simply unreadable. A face unseen before now.


    "Teach... Answer me. Did you kill her?"


    That image seemed to finally capture Malik''s attention.


    His eyes shifted back towards her.


    He didn''t blink, didn''t flinch, didn''t shy away.


    He just... looked. For a long, long time.


    "Yes."


    All of a sudden, his answer arrived, cold as stone.


    It wasn''t an excuse.


    It wasn''t an apology.


    It wasn''t a confession.


    It wasn''t an exnation.


    It was just the truth, stripped of any pretense or emotion.


    Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire


    As sharp as the dagger sheathed in his belt.


    It was as if showing any semnce of emotion here would ruin him.


    For a second, Safira''s expression faltered, her lips parting slightly like she wanted to say something¡ªanything. But then, she just¡­ didn''t.


    "I see."


    And that was it.


    No tears, no anger, no usations.


    Just a simple t acknowledgment.


    She then resumed her cultivation, acting as if the conversation never happened.


    The silence that followed was deafening.


    It spoke of their rtionship and how fractured it had be.


    Neither knew what the other was thinking or feeling.


    And unfortunately for one of them...


    The other didn''t seem to care.


    Not in the least.


    ''...She''s no child.''


    Malik watched her for a moment longer, something shing in his golden eyes.


    Maybe he expected more. Maybe he didn''t. It didn''t matter.


    He didn''t ask her why she reacted that way.


    He knew that Sofia wasn''t what she seemed.


    He had suspicions brewing long before today.


    This only cemented it.


    Sighing out loud, he rose to his feet and headed deeper into the cave.


    As he walked away, his shadow seemed to stretch behind him, covering Safira.


    The little girl had yet to move.


    Her eyes stayed closed, her breathing even, her hands sped tightly in herp as if holding something fragile together.


    But beneath the surface¡ªbeneath that perfect, stony exterior¡ªwas a storm.


    Tears welled up in her eyes, but she didn''t let herself cry.


    Not here. Not where he could see. Not where his dagger was in reach.


    She didn''t want to know why he did it. Didn''t want to ask. Because if she did, and he told her the truth¡ªif he said it wasn''t to save her but for something darker, something selfish, something unforgivable¡ªthen what?


    What would she do?


    He wouldn''t lie.


    That much she knew.


    Malik didn''t mince words, didn''t sugarcoat, didn''t spare anyone, not even her.


    No. ESPECIALLY not her.


    And that terrified her.


    Because if he really admitted the unspeakable¡­


    She didn''t know if she''d have the strength to stop him.@@novelbin@@


    Or worse, if she''d have the strength to leave him.


    So, Safira stayed silent.


    She didn''t want answers. Maybe not ever.


    It was easier this way.


    Safer.

 Chapter 86 Burn The Whole World VII

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Those outside asked the obvious as soon as Safira''s detached reaction yed out.


    "What. The. Hell."


    "Did he just¡ª"


    "Yup."


    "And Lady Safira just¡ª"


    "Yup."


    "Wait, what?!"


    "That''s it? She just let it go?"


    "That''s all she had to say?!"


    "No way..."


    The noise was immediate yet muted.


    No one dared admonish the Fairy to her face, so they kept low.


    A few debated amongst themselves, others scoffed, calling it cold, while her camp tried to rationalize her behavior.


    "She''s grieving!"


    "You can''t expect someone to react to something that shocking!"


    "Grieving? Shocking? Do you really believe that all it was?"


    "Yeah, I don''t think it''s that simple."


    "You could see it in her posture¡ªshe''s conflicted!"


    "Lady Huda just didn''t show it like most people do."


    "Conflicted, sure, but what made her conflicted? Relief. Don''t act like you didn''t notice it."


    Heads turned toward the man.


    Some people exchanged wary nces; others nodded reluctantly.


    "...She did seem oddly calm about it."


    "But why?"


    "Can''t say. Maybe she was afraid she''d be left behind."


    "Doesn''t mean she''s happy..."


    Another countered.


    "A twisted relief, maybe. But not happiness. I don''t think anyone watching would honestly im that she didn''t love Jasmine."


    "Still, though... it isn''t just that. She''s also scared of the Sultan."


    "Exactly. What kind of man admits to killing someone like that?"


    Zafar was the first to speak from the group near the front, using this random''s words to pile on Malik like usual.


    "What? Would you rather him lie?"


    Azeem, who had been casually sitting on the ground, straightened up.


    "Is it only extreme ends with you? Can''t he just¡ª"


    "Sugarcoat it? No. He already suspected Lady Safira to be abnormal. She was mature enough to know the truth. Besides, I don''t think anyone in his ce would''ve done it any better. I''d bet my entire wealth on you breaking down with just a fraction of what he went through."


    Mad at being cut off, Zafar ignored his response and continued:


    "Don''t mistake it, everyone. The Viin''s disying cold. Not strength. There''s a difference. And it''s not something to be praised."


    Noor rolled her eyes, her regal demeanor somehow making even that look graceful.


    "Oh, spare us the lecture... hero. You''re missing the point entirely."


    "And what''s the point, Empress?"


    Zafar shot back, frustration clear.


    "That she didn''t leave."


    Her eyes, sharp and knowing, didn''t leave the projection.


    "Our Fairy didn''t run. Didn''t scream. Didn''t use. She stayed. That says more than you''re giving her credit for."


    "Or it says she was scared out of her mind."


    Zafar muttered under his breath, but he didn''t push it further.


    He knew better than to show disrespect for someone he wished to court.


    Meanwhile, Huda was sprawled on the back of Crimson, head tilted as she watched the crowd''s reactions with undisguised amusement.


    "Man, you guys are dense... She''s ying it smart. You think she''d actually start something now, when she''s alone in that cave with him? Pfft."


    Roya shook her head.


    "She''s not wrong. Even back then, Safira had more sense than most."


    Though she was beingplimented, the "Fairy" was in a state near despair.


    Most of what they said about her was true¡ªand that was what made it worse.


    Every word made her feel sick, like absolute trash.


    At that time, yeah, she was scared of him.


    Malik. He was terrifying.


    But that wasn''t the real reason she was falling apart inside.


    It wasn''t what made her so conflicted.


    No, the real reason? It centered around something else.


    Something entirely different.


    Jasmine.


    Those Magi were right about her. Completely right.


    ...Safira felt relieved by her death.


    And that''s what had been eating her alive.


    It wasn''t for the reasons they thought, though.


    She couldn''t help it. She grew to love Malik to a ridiculous, unhealthy degree.


    Fascination, infatuation, obsession¡ªwhatever you want to call it.


    She wasn''t proud of it, but she couldn''t stop it, either.


    She was consumed by him.


    Her entire world spun around him.


    It was ridiculous how fast it happened.


    One random day, she was just Safira¡ªa random girl living a random life, in a random time, in a random ce¡ªand then, poof.


    She ceased.


    Thrown into this insane, foreign world in some girl''s body.


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    Her life got flipped upside down in the worst way possible.


    Safira had be a ve.


    Do you have any idea what that meant?


    To be a ve meant¡­ she was not a person anymore but a property.


    She was cast out from society. She waspletely denied any honor. She waspletely denied any personhood. She was perpetually and violently controlled.


    No rights, no dignity, no safety. Nothing.


    The simple concept of owning was forbidden. Yet to survive, she needed coins, and she...


    She had nothing but her body to sell. But guess what?


    Even that she couldn''t control. Even that wasn''t hers. Her OWN body wasn''t hers.


    It belonged to them. Her so-called "masters."


    They took photos of her. Humiliating, awful photos using a weird-looking Holy Relic.


    Put them up for auction like she was some piece of meat, one sold to the highest bidder.


    By then, the vers only needed to hide her and those with her until they could get the official paperwork done, make this transaction the least bitwful.


    It wasn''t going to take much longer before they were sent back out of Al-Fawra and into the homes of filthy, creepy, disgusting, degenerate, depraved, despicable, pedophiles who''d¡ªGod, she couldn''t even think about it.


    However, before that bleak future could take ce... he showed up.


    Malik.


    He killed them.


    Every single one of them. Brutally, beautifully. One by one.


    And she watched it all.


    He was like this¡­ this blinding light cutting through the darkness.@@novelbin@@


    A savior. A hero. A prince, no, a king in shining armor.


    How could she not admire him?


    It was only natural.


    What wasn''t natural, however, was how those feelings evolved.


    They spiraled way too fast, turning into this all-consuming obsession she couldn''t control.


    It didn''t help that he was so damn kind. So good.


    When a chance for her to stay behind presented itself, she almost jumped in joy.


    You see, her gifting of the Holy Relic wasn''t out of the kindness of her heart.


    No. She wanted to stay, be with him for a little longer.


    She wanted him to look at her, see her.


    And now, with Jasmine gone¡­ she had him all to herself.


    Nopetition. No one else.


    It was perfect.


    Now she could make him hers. Fix him. Change him. Maybe even shape him into someone entirely different. Someone who could love her back.


    Because Safira?... She, a transmigrator, knew who Malik was. Knew what he was supposed to be.


    How? How did she know? Not magic. Nothing fancy like that. It was way simpler.


    She read about him. In a novel. Yes. A novel.


    Yeah, she knew how insane that sounded. But it was true.


    This world? It was straight out of a book she read.


    And Malik¡ªhe was the "viin."


    The man who painted rivers red with blood.


    It took her a while to realize at first, but eventually, it became obvious.


    Too obvious to miss. The "viin," matched too closely with the man before her.


    It had to be him. It would''ve been too coincidental otherwise.


    So, though she barely remembered the novel, she made it her mission to stop it.


    To change him.


    Did Jasmine have to die for that? No.


    Was she relieved when she did? Yes.


    And that was the part that dug into her heart.


    That relief¡ªit was disgusting.


    Every time she felt it, it ate at her.


    She hated herself for it. For being such a selfish bitch.


    Before, for an entirely different reason, and now. Same thing.


    This word seemed like it''d haunt her for the rest of her life.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik sat in the middle of a sea of rotting corpses.


    Only a faint flicker of light reached him, but he didn''t mind.


    Now... darkness felt more fitting.


    The weight in his chest hadn''t eased.


    If anything, it had grown heavier.


    ''Jasmine''s gone. Really gone.''


    The thought killed him, but he didn''t cry.


    This time... he was going to uphold his promise to Sinbad.


    But that wasn''t the only thing he held back.


    Anger. Rage. Fury.


    The fire burning in his chest.


    Malik didn''t do that to stay calm.


    No. He held back his emotions because he wanted to hold on to them.


    Let them shimmer within until the day they needed to be let out.


    The day he would judge Cyrus...plete his revenge.


    For now, he''d settle them with a few words.


    Words of anguish that his guardian always sang to him.


    A twisted bedtime luby.


    ''If I tell the sorrows in my heart¡­''


    His eyes closed,shes trembling with the effort to hold back the flood.


    ''It''ll burn my tongue.''


    His hands clenched into fists.


    ''If I keep it in my heart¡­''


    He fluttered them open and nced at the corpse beside him.


    Its face was half-rotted, its identity long lost.


    ''I''m afraid it''ll burn me from the inside.''


    He thought of the crimson owl.


    The way it had stared at him.


    The way it had helped him bury her, without asking for anything, without judgment, without pity.


    Was that thing even real?


    "..."


    The corpse didn''t answer his unspoken question.


    It didn''t matter.


    Real or not, it hadn''t changed anything.


    Jasmine was still gone.


    ''But if I let it out¡­''


    His jaw tightened as he looked at his hands.


    For the thousandth time, he reyed it: the way her body had gone limp in them, the warmth leaving her as he held her close.


    The way she had smiled.


    The way she had thanked him.


    The way she had epted her death.


    ...But he hadn''t.


    ''I fear it''ll burn the whole world.''

 Chapter 87 I Want To Kill A Man

    ***


    I mourn the most for the things I never said.


    I''ll keep this memory close¡ªuntil I kiss it goodbye.


    Little girl¡­ would you wash the blood from my hands?


    I won''t see you again¡­ so bury your scars deep.


    Let your tears fall where mine won''t.


    Let them sink into me, so I never forget.


    ***


    "Malik."


    "What?"


    "Why?... Why did you kill her?"


    "...She asked me to."


    "Why?"


    "She Fell."


    "Fell? Fell where?"


    "Into Depravity."


    "Depravity?"


    "Depravity."


    "Couldn''t you save her?"


    "I tried."


    "Really hard?"


    "I... I think."


    "Then there was nothing you could do."


    "Do you hate me for it?"


    "No."


    "Why not?"


    "I just don''t."


    "I killed her."


    "You did."


    "I buried her in the ground and walked away like it was nothing."


    "You did."


    "Why the Hell don''t you hate me?!"


    "Because I know you, Teach... And I know you didn''t have a choice."


    "You don''t get it. You don''t know what it''s like to¡­"


    "To kill someone you care about? No, I do."


    "What? I¡ª"


    "Look."


    The end of the voices gave way to vision.


    And in that ''vision'' was a void.


    But not an empty one.


    Oh no, it wasn''t empty.


    Two pale hands crept from nothingness.


    Fingers too long, too elegant, flexed as though savoring the space, him.


    They reached out, first tentative, then greedy, wrapping themselves around his heart.


    The hands tightened¡ªnot painful, not yet, butmanding.


    "Still beating~."


    A voice purred from nowhere and everywhere at once. Amused, almost yful.


    "How quaint."


    Malik tried to jerk back, but the void wasn''t a ce one could escape.


    It wasn''t a room one could leave. It was just¡­ there. And so were the hands.


    One of the hands dragged a nail down the length of his heart.


    Not enough to cut, just enough to remind him it could.


    "Do you feel it?"


    It was closer now. Too close.


    "That little drum in your chest."


    "The one that says you''re still alive."


    "Still breathing, still trying... still enduring."


    The hands tightened further, squeezing.


    And then it came¡ªthe teasing flicker of a promise.


    A promise of stillness, of quiet, of an end.


    True death. Sweet. Permanent.


    "I could stop it, you know. Make it all stop. The guilt, the memories, the screaming, the hallucinations. Wouldn''t you like that? No more running, no more hurting. Just silence."


    The hands clutched hard, bursting his heart into nothingness.


    "But not today."


    It cruelly chuckled, distant now.


    "This story is over, and I predict the end¡­"


    "You''lle back."


    "They always do."


    And just like that, the void snapped away.@@novelbin@@


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "What the fuck was that?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    No one answered.


    Not immediately, anyway.


    "Uh¡­ maybe it was just a nightmare? Y''know, guilt messing with his head or... something..."


    "Did that look like a normal nightmare to you?"


    The man shrank back.


    "I-I mean¡­ maybe? People dream weird stuff when they''re going through it. And he''s... well, he''s been through a lot."


    "Nah, that was no normal nightmare. That was something else."


    "Like what?"


    "...I''m not sure.


    "No, say it. If you''ve got a theory, spill."


    He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck.


    "Could be the one who cursed him. A Mal¨¡k... or God forbid... a Rukh. You know how it is: ''Their'' mere existence messes with the Magi of the same Path and Divine Law as ''Them,'' Corrupting their minds."


    "He''s right."


    A scowler grunted.


    "You don''t imagine something like that. Not with that level of detail."


    "The Sultan''s being Corrupted."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik jolted awake, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving like he''d just run a few merhale.


    He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the lingering haze of whatever nightmare had gripped him.


    For a long moment, he didn''t move.


    Just sat there, trying to steady his breathing.


    But then, he finally spoke:


    "...Goodbye."


    Another day hade and he needed to move on.


    ...


    Making yesterday out to be a forgotten Hell, they continued like nothing happened.


    Malik sat cross-legged in front of Safira, his posture unusually rxed.


    He watched as she cultivated, her body encased in a golden cocoon of Aether.


    "Your flow''s good. But your control is sloppy. Tighten it up¡ªfocus on the core, not the edges."


    Safira''s eyes flicked open, shooting him a sharp look, but she didn''t say anything.


    Instead, she adjusted her posture, shifting the Aether flow as he suggested.


    The glow around her grew sharper, brighter.


    "Better."


    He nodded.


    "But don''t rush it. You''re trying to force too much at once. Let ite to you."


    Days passed like this, with him sitting nearby, giving her pointers as she cultivated.


    He didn''t have to be there¡ªshe could''ve figured it out herself eventually¡ªbut he stayed.


    Whether out of habit, distraction, or a lingering sense of responsibility, even he wasn''t sure.


    One early morning, as light began to visit the cave, Safira broke the cycle:


    "So¡­ teach. How do you fight like that?"


    Malik raised an eyebrow.


    "Like what?"


    "Like that."


    She motioned vaguely with her hands.


    "All those moves, the counters, the footwork¡ªit''s got structure. Even I see that... So what''s the deal? Is it some famous style shared between nobles?"


    He leaned back against the wall.


    "Are you fishing for tips or just curious?"


    "Both."


    "Alright... My old man taught me."


    Safira blinked, caught off guard by his straightforward answer.


    She expected deflection, sarcasm, maybe even silence¡ªbut not this.


    Still, she kept her expression neutral.


    "Your dad taught you? Was he, like, a Knight or something?"


    Malik tilted his head as if considering the question.


    "Guardian, not dad, but yeah... something like that. He called it¡­ something fancy. Never cared enough to remember the name."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    No one spoke outside, too immersed to say anything of substance or simply too in their emotions to even think straight.


    But Noor was in neither category.


    Her thoughts ran a kilometer a second.


    ''So his guardian did teach him the Royal Sword Style...''


    Her theory about their rtionship was starting to sound quite usible.


    ''...Why lie, though? Why not reveal the name? There''s no way you don''t remember it. What does it gain you? Or... what is it you avoid?''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Safira rolled her eyes.


    "That tracks."


    "..."


    He didn''t reply to her provocation.


    "What..."


    She hesitated for a moment before managing to ask:


    "What happened to him?"


    Malik''s gaze shifted to the cave walls, away from hers.


    "He''s gone."


    His voice was so calm it was almost unsettling.


    Yet Safira waited, sensing there was more.


    "I killed him."


    Her breath hitched, but she quickly masked her reaction.


    "W-Why?"


    He shrugged.


    "Had to."


    "...Do you regret it?"


    That question came softly.


    "No... I... I had to."


    This dialogue of theirs had more than one meaning, yet neither acknowledged that.


    "I see... Will you visit him after we''re out of here?"


    "I won''t."


    "Why not?"


    "There''s nothing to visit."


    That answer brought her unending questions to a halt.


    But it was only momentary, as she quickly switched the subject:


    "Then... what do you want to do up there?


    "I want to kill a man."


    Surprised, Safira raised a brow, slowing her cultivation a tad.


    "Is he... is he your archenemy or something?"


    Malik nodded his head.


    "I guess. I''ve got no enemies but him... and a few vers."


    "That''s it?"


    "No."


    He also had thoughts of wanting to make the world a better ce, but that... it was something that he doubted now, after what the world had put him through.


    "Then¡ª"


    Before she could ask another question, he abruptly stood up, brushing the dust off his pants.


    "That enough story time for you, or do you want to pry some more?" Discover more content at My Virtual Library Empire


    Safira shook her head.


    "No... I''m happy with that."


    Malik gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, then walked toward the cave''s entrance.


    The bright sky greeted him, and he stared at it for a long time, his hands behind his back.


    He tilted his head back, letting the cool air brush against his face.


    And sure enough, his mind wandered back to Jasmine.


    To Huda.


    To Sinbad.


    To his guardian.


    To the countless mistakes and losses that had led him here.


    ''If I could start over¡­ maybe...''


    The thought came unbidden and he quickly pushed it away.


    Even with this curse of his, there was no starting over.


    No erasing the past.


    All he could do was keep moving forward.

 Chapter 88 Beginning Of The End

    The consolidation of Safira''s newfound power had reached an eptable state, and Malik figured they had milked all the time they could afford, so they packed up a few essentials and started heading south again.


    Hours turned into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. All until time itself felt like some never-ending loop. Something that he was quite used to by now.


    Wake up, move, kill the asional monster, train, avoid the asional Seeker, camp, repeat.


    It wasn''t morous, but it worked.


    They simply trained every chance they got.


    If they weren''t walking or fighting, they were cultivating.


    Malik barely slept anymore.


    His cultivation routine was practically meditative, healing his body and clearing his mind enough that he didn''t need much rest.


    While not to the same intensity, Safira went hard as well, lowering her sleeping hours a tad.


    Surprisingly, she didn''tin. Rather, she threw herself into it, biting off whatever bits and pieces of technique he fed her.


    And she was sharp. Way sharper than herzy, sarcastic front let on.


    Sure, she still tossed out a snarkyment here and there, usually right when Malik was hitting a flow in exining something, but it was never mean-spirited.


    Just her way of keeping him on his toes...


    Stubborn, this one.


    "You''ve got to twist your hips more when you''re striking."


    He told her once while they were drilling punches.


    She mimicked the motion, twisting her body so dramatically that it almost looked like she was trying to snap herself in two.


    "Like this, oh great master? Should I add a spin for dramatic effect?"


    Malik just stared at her, deadpan.


    "You know what I mean."


    "Oh, I do."


    Safira grinned, going back to the proper technique without missing a beat.


    If that example served to show anything, it was that she was a pain sometimes... most times, but he couldn''t deny she learned fast. Too fast, maybe.


    For his part, he had to admit that he was getting into the whole "teacher" role more than he ever thought he would.


    It wasn''t like he had nned to be someone''s mentor when he went to kill those bastards, but her progress made it... satisfying.


    Malik wasn''t cking either.


    His cultivation was progressing in steady, quiet intervals.


    It wasn''t shy like Safira''s progress¡ªno big "aha" moments¡ªbut the man was slowly bing a walking arsenal, his foundation bing steadier by the day.


    Magi didn''t survive long without learning a trick or twenty, and he needed not only to live but also to thrive long if he wanted to fulfill any of his goals.


    Of course, Ascending into a Jinn would exceed such gains by a thousandfold, but unfortunately, that wasn''t possible out here, at least not to his knowledge.


    To be a Jinn, a pure one, he had to perform the pilgrimage, Arba''in.


    A long journey to the Land In Between, the Land of Forgotten Borders, the True South, the Valley of the Unseen... Wadi Al-Ghayb.


    Life ceased to exist in thisnd known as the unknown''s threshold, a ce said to be neither here nor there, where reality itself thinned and Jinns gathered to whisper.


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    Malik didn''t know much more about it.


    It was only mentioned a few times in Rafiq''s Grimoire.


    He knew the location, though, and that was enough; everything else he''d learn on the way.


    All this... he''d do was for one thing... Cyrus''s death. His main goal.


    Even this, the teaching of his little student, helped in that.


    It was an opportunity for him to revise the basics.


    Something he hadn''t done in so long.


    The sparring too.


    It was half training, half therapy for them both.


    Safira got to burn off her frustration from being unable to find a ce in what remained of his little stone of a heart¡ªthough she''d never admit it¡ªand Malik got to let off steam in a way that didn''t involve talking about his feelings.


    Win-win.


    Still, it was where he had to hold back¡ªa lot.


    The girl was no pushover, sure, but he wasn''t about to go all out and break her bones with a flick.


    Even so, she got banged up.


    Malik made sure of that.


    Safira needed to feel the pain of a real fight, the sting of getting hit, the humiliation of hitting the ground.


    "Better to get bruised here than dead out there."


    He''d say every time she stumbled, clutching a fresh welt or wiping blood off her lip.


    "Yeah, yeah."


    She''d mutter, irritated, but she always stood back up. Always came at him again. Stronger, faster, a little more calcted than before.


    It was working.


    One time, she actually managed tond a punch.


    A clean one, right to his ribs. But... that wasn''t during a spar.


    Right. She attacked him when he was deep in cultivation, the one time when he was most vulnerable.


    He barely felt it, and it didn''t really count, but she lit up like she''d just felled a giant.


    "I got you!"


    Malik stood up, cracked his neck, and looked down.


    "Congrattions. Now do it again."


    She didn''tnd another hit for a whole month after that.


    Their journey south took them through some truly unforgiving terrain.


    Al-Fawra was not kind to travelers, not even its firstyer.


    The closer they got to the south, the fewerndmarks they passed.


    Just cracked, parched earth stretching as far as their eyes could see, broken only by the asional stubborn shrub or jagged outcrop of rock.


    But then, one day, thendscape slowly began to change.


    The hard, broken ground softened, and dunes began to rise in waves around them.


    At first, they were small, rolling hills of sand, but soon they grew, stretching into vast golden mountains that rippled under the Shams.@@novelbin@@


    The heat was worse here, as the sand reflected the starlight like a mirror, making it feel like they were walking through an oven.


    "So... this is it, huh?"


    Safira squinted at the horizon, a scarf they''d ''borrowed'' from some random Seeker wrapped tight around her head.


    "The great southern dunes. Al-Fawra''s Edge. Real inviting ce."


    "You''ll get used to it."


    Malik didn''t sound particrly convincing.


    He was sweating just as much as she was.


    "If I don''t melt first."


    She kicked at the sand and watched it scatter.


    "Is this stuff gonna be sticking to everything now?"


    "Yes..."


    Malik was already resigned to the fact.


    "Get used to that, too."


    She groaned but didn''tin further.


    They kept walking, their footprints quickly erased by the shifting sands behind them.


    It was almost poetic. Almost.


    They didn''t get much farther before he raised his hand, signaling her to stop.


    His eyes had caught something¡ªa dark speck in the golden expanse to their right.


    "What is it?"


    She followed his gaze but saw nothing.


    "A sign."


    He turned toward it, his steps cautious, and she reluctantly followed.


    As they got closer, the speck grew into a weathered wooden sign nted crookedly in the sand.


    The paint was peeling, the letters faded, but they were still legible¡ªbarely.


    Malik brushed off some of the dust clinging to the surface and leaned in to read, now able to... somehow.


    "Be warned."


    Her brows furrowed, and she stepped closer to listen.


    "Sandworms popte thend behind this sign."


    He paused, ncing back at her.


    Her eyes widened.


    "Sandworms?"


    "Do follow the Sand Walk not to arise them. A drumming beat."


    There was a long, heavy silence after he finished.


    "...This is it."


    Malik muttered, more to himself than to her, his gaze lingering on the warning as if the words were etched into his soul.


    "The beginning of the end."

 Chapter 89 RUN!

    "Wait, wait, wait."


    Safira took a step back, holding up her hands.


    "Sandworms? Like¡­ giant, man-eating, desert-dwelling worms?"


    "Yes."


    "And you''re just okay with that?!"


    "No."


    Malik turned to face her, his expression unreadable.


    "But we don''t have a choice."


    She opened her mouth to argue but stopped short, something in his eyes shutting her down.


    "Stick close."


    He stepped back onto the path.


    "Wait, what''s the Sand Walk?!"


    She called after him, scrambling to keep up.


    "We''ll see."


    Her stomach dropped.


    That was never a good answer.


    Once they got down the dune, still behind the sign, Malik scanned the distance, picking out a path.


    Behind him, Safira shielded her eyes from the sand''s re.


    "And beyond this is¡­ what? That ''airlift'' thing from the notes?"


    Malik nodded.


    "The book called it ''Zephyr''s Ascension.''"


    "Sounds fancy."


    "Yeah, well, try to keep yourints quiet, or you''ll wake the worms."


    He walked ahead, passing the sign.


    "T-Teach¡ª"


    "Shut it and stay put."


    Safira frowned but didn''t argue, crossing her arms as she watched him.


    She wasn''t about to admit it out loud, but the mention of sandworms had her stomach flipping.


    Malik, on the other hand, seemed calm¡ªtoo calm for her liking.


    He moved forward, his steps slow.


    The phrase from the sign constantly repeated in his mind¡ªa drumming beat.


    It was vague as Hell, but he had to start somewhere.


    If he failed? Well, there was always a next time...


    Fffshhh!


    His boots hit the sand with a measured rhythm, heel-to-toe.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    He let his arms swing naturally, his shoulders loose, his breathing even.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    His body fell into a kind of flow, each step deliberate but not forced.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    The sand shifted under him, and he adjusted without breaking stride, his weight rolling smoothly from one foot to the next like water spilling from a jar, light enough that his steps barely left a mark.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    It was frustratingly effortless.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    Every now and then, he threw in a tiny bounce to his step, like he was mimicking the rhythm of a heartbeat, smooth, almost hypnotic.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    He went on like that for a while, weaving slightly as he went, his path curving just a little to keep his weight from pressing too hard in one spot.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    Was this it? The so-called Sand Walk?


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "HOW THE FUCK DID HE MANAGE IT ONE TRY?!"


    Apparently, it was.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    It felt¡­ right. Not perfect, but close enough.


    ''Dum-Dum-Dum.''


    Malik nodded to himself, then turned back, retracing his route toward Safira, his steps never breaking the rhythm.


    She was standing exactly where he''d left her, arms crossed and frowning at him like he''d just invented a new way to waste her time.


    Safira had hated this Sand Walk almost immediately.


    "This is dumb."


    "Yeah, and that''s why you''re gonna die if you don''t figure it out."


    "Why can''t we just, I don''t know, walk like normal people?"


    "Because normal walking tells them that prey is here."


    "Why?"


    "The sign says so."


    "Maybe it''s a prank¡ª"


    "No. Your turn."


    She blinked.


    "What?"


    "You''re going to learn it."


    "Right now?"


    "Right now."


    Her frown deepened.


    "You want me to¡ª"


    "Mimic it."


    He cut her off again.@@novelbin@@


    "Step for step. Follow the rhythm. A drumming beat."


    "You''re serious."


    "Dead serious. Start walking."


    Safira groaned but followed him back to the base of the dune.


    He didn''t give her time toin further, stepping beside her and pointing down at her feet.


    "Heel to toe. Spread your weight evenly. Don''t stomp. You want the sand to forget you were even here."


    "Forget me? I''m not a ghost."


    He ignored her.


    "Match my steps. Watch my arms. Your bnce needs to shift with each step like you''re flowing forward."


    She squinted at him, dubious.


    "Flowing forward. Sure. Sounds easy."


    "It''s not. Now shut up and try."


    Safira groaned but stepped forward, trying to copy the way he''d moved.


    It was clumsy¡ªtoo stiff, too cautious.


    He stopped her after a few steps.


    "Rx. You''re overthinking it. Just¡­ move. Keep it smooth. Let your body find the rhythm."


    "Easier said than done."


    She took a breath and moved, nting her foot carefully.


    Immediately, the sand slid out from under her, and she stumbled, falling face-first.


    "Bah!"


    Flipping to her back, she spat out some of the sand she identally swallowed and screamed:


    "This is impossible!"


    "It''s not. Try again."


    "Why don''t you try being encouraging for once?"


    "Encouragement doesn''t stop sandworms. Now focus."


    She gritted her teeth and tried again, mimicking the way his arms swayed and the deliberate cement of his feet.


    It wasn''t nearly as smooth, and the sand still shifted quite heavily, but she managed a few steps before losing her bnce again.


    "Better... Keep going."


    Hours passed like this.


    Safira stumbled, cursed, and grumbled, but each time, she got a little better.


    Malik watched her like a Roc, correcting her movements, tweaking her rhythm, making her start over whenever she got it a slight bit wrong.


    Her frustration grew, but so did her determination.


    By the time the light started to fade, her steps were almost passable.


    "One more time."


    She red at him, sweat dripping down her face.


    "You said that an hour ago."


    "And I''ll keep saying it until you get it right. Now go."


    She groaned again but obeyed, her steps falling into the familiar rhythm.


    This time, there was no awkwardness.


    Her movements were smooth, her body rxed, her rhythm steady.


    Malik watched her for a moment, then nodded again.


    "Good. That''ll do."


    He finally called a halt, motioning for her to sit.


    She dropped onto the sand with a huff, wiping sweat from her brow.


    "Finally!"


    "You''re ready... I''ll give you a minute then we''ll move."


    Safira pulled out her gourd, gulping down half the water, then stood up, joining his right.


    "There''s no need. Let''s go!"


    Malik looked at her for long, then nodded.


    "Take this then."


    She cupped her hands and brought them forward.


    "Goodies? Gimmie, gimmie!"


    He grabbed the Scrolls from his belt and gently pushed them into her palms, folding her fingers over them.


    "Just in case you get lost."


    Her blue eyes slightly widened.


    "B-But I¡ª"


    "No. Take them."


    "...O-Oookay."


    Seeing that he was not backing off, she shoved them in her belt.


    "Stay calm and no matter what happens, don''t panic."


    "Please, I''m practically a sand ninja now."


    He just shook his head and started moving, taking the lead.


    She quickly followed, Sand Walking directly behind him.


    After that, neither said another word, focusing fully on their movements.


    The desert had gone silent alongside them, save for the rhythmic Fffshhh of their footsteps.


    Safira started nervous, nearly making mistakes due to just how tense she felt. Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire


    But as time passed, her jitters started to fade.


    She still didn''t trust this whole Sand Walk nonsense, but she had to admit that it was better to be safe than sorry... Sandworms were quite scary after all.


    When she finally got fully used to it, a voice was heard in the silent desert.


    "Hey, this isn''t so bad."


    It was hers.


    "Hm."


    Malik gave a nomittal grunt.


    His eyes stayed locked on the horizon, scanning for¡­ something.


    Safira didn''t want to ask what. She figured if it was important, he''d tell her. Probably.


    They kept moving, their rhythm steady, and she found herself falling into the flow, her body rxing.


    But as night arrived and the heat drained from the air, struggle made its way back to her.


    Safira pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, shivering.


    "Why does it have to get so damn cold?"


    "..."


    Malik didn''t answer.


    He just kept walking, his steps as smooth as ever.


    Typical.


    Then... the wind started.


    At first, it was just a whisper, brushing over the sand.


    But it grew, gaining strength with every gust.


    By the time they reached the base of a particrly steep dune, it was howling, whipping sand into their faces.


    Safira shielded her eyes, squinting up at Malik.


    "This normal?"


    "No."


    He scanned the horizon again, his jaw clenching.


    "Storm''sing."


    Safira flinched.


    "W-What kind of storm?"


    "The bad kind."


    "Oh great. Fantastic~."


    Sand began to swirl around them, a stinging chaos that made it almost impossible to see.


    "STAY LOW! FOLLOW MY LEAD!"


    She nodded at hismand, or at least tried to but failed, ducking her head instead.


    They pressed on, and every step was a battle, one that they nearly lost.


    Wind tore at their clothes, threatening to knock them off bnce at each change it got.


    Safira''s feet slipped more than once, the shifting sands beneath her refusing to cooperate.


    "This freaking sucks!"


    "Keep moving!"


    And she did, because what else could she do?


    But the storm wasn''t letting up. If anything, it was getting worse.


    Everything around them was trying to peel their skin off.


    Visibility dropped to nothing, and their nerves, especially hers, were fraying fast.


    Then, out of nowhere, tragedy struck...


    Thud!


    Safira fell.


    She hit the sand so hard, the impact sent vibrations rippling through the ground.


    "D-Damn it!"


    She hissed, scrambling to get back up.


    But just as she managed to put her feet down and take a step forward, her head smacked into something solid.


    "T-Teach?"


    Malik was frozen.


    His entire body was tense.


    "Safira."


    "I''m fine, I just¡ª"


    "Start running. Now."


    She blinked.


    "What?"


    The ground beneath them trembled.


    Then...


    WHOOOOMPH!


    The sand exploded.


    A massive form burst from it, a writhing, monstrous thing that towered above a distant dune, its body a grotesque, coiling mass, its mouth a gaping maw lined with rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth.


    This was a sandworm.


    Huge didn''t even begin to describe it.


    It was¡­ horrifying.


    "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"


    Safira yelled, coughing as sand whipped around her face.


    Her eyes were wide, full of panic, but she couldn''t see anything, barely even hear anything.


    "..."


    Malik didn''t answer right away.


    He stared at the approaching sandworm, feeling the tremors under his feet.


    "The wind hit a dune hard... knocked its sand over. Nothing to worry about."


    Safira wasn''t buying it.


    "That''s not just some wind, Malik! That had to be¡ª"


    "Doesn''t matter!"


    He cut her off, grabbing her arm and pushing her in front of him.


    "Now forget the damn walk! JUST RUN!"

 Chapter 90 A Little Game

    Safira tensed up even more, stunned by his sudden yell.


    "Run where?!"


    "ANYWHERE!"


    Malik sounded desperate, a word she never expected him to be described as, but still...


    "No!"


    She didn''t move.


    "I''m not leaving you!"


    He turned to her, locking eyes for what felt like an eternity, though it was only a second.


    The sandworm was closing in, the vibrations under their feet like a ticking clock.


    "Fine... Then do one thing for me."


    "What?!"


    "We''re gonna y a game. If you wanna win, all you gotta do is look forward and walk."


    "What kind of stupid game is that?! Malik, this is not¡ª"


    "Don''t argue!"


    He snapped, cutting her off for a third time.


    "You walk forward. Don''t look back. Not even once. I''ll be right behind you, I swear. Just don''t look back, no matter what you hear. Got it?"


    She hesitated, biting her lip.


    "And if I win?"


    "Anything you want."


    He promised.


    "You get one wish. Whatever it is."


    Safira''s face lit up¡ªnot with joy, but with determination.


    "Fine..."


    She nodded.


    "It''s a deal."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "...I knew it."


    Safira''s sobbing voice came first, echoing through the silent hall.


    "He was lying."


    Her tone dripped with frustration and something deeper, more bitter.


    "H-He was... lying"


    The word regret was not enough to describe it.


    "The wind? A dune? Bullshit. I wasn''t stupid. I could feel it¡ªbut nooo, I had to be greedy."


    The projection showed her face in sharp detail: sweat streaking through the sand caked on her skin, but even as panic danced in her gaze, she pushed forward with all that she had.


    "So greedy to win that I lied to myself."


    La, her camp, and the crowd could hear her breaking down right in front of them. Explore stories at My Virtual Library Empire


    She, the Fairy of Devil''s Maw, looked to be in a state no different than the Huda of a few hours ago¡ªnow knelt on the ground, hands trembling as they hid her face.


    "I made it past the storm. And there, just at the edge, I waited..."


    She sucked in a shaky breath, her shoulders shaking.


    "I waited for hours. Just standing there. Watching. But I didn''t see him."


    La moved before she even realized it, crouching down and wrapping an arm around Safira''s shoulders, holding her close.


    "Even a few Faraja passed by..."


    Safira barely reacted and just kept speaking, her voice a fractured thing.


    "Asked me what I was doing. I told them I was waiting for him and they..."


    Her fingers curled against her face, her nails digging into her skin.


    "They said..."


    She stopped, choking on the words.


    "They said that no one was there. That if I was waiting for someone..."


    She let out a shuddering breath.


    "...They probably already left me behind."


    Gasps rippled through the crowd like a wave.


    "He WHAT?"


    "He left her?!"


    "What kind of teacher does that?"


    Judging by their reactions, it appeared that Malik''s betrayal towards Safira wasn''t that well-known to the masses. Which was to be expected, as her origin was kept on the down-low too.


    "Ohhh, this is rich."


    Azeem leaned forward, hands on his knees, his grin wide.


    "The big bad Sultan just bailed. Guess those Scrolls were to appease his guilt, huh?"


    "You''re sick."


    Huda muttered, ring at him.


    "Hey, I didn''t say it wasn''t messed up."


    He shot back, raising his hands defensively.


    "Bute on, we all knew it wasing. Were you expecting a Hallmark moment?"


    "M-Maybe he was injured."


    Surprising everyone, Zafar, who paced in tight circles, retorted.


    It seemed that out of all the people there, he was most scared of that trend repeating.


    So, to fight against it, he preemptively gave Malik an excuse in case this turned out to be another misunderstanding.


    It was somewhat of a smart tactic, as it would finally give his yes-men something new to praise about.


    "I mean... he stayed behind to kill it. Why would he leave afterward? What would that gain¡ª"


    "My Sultan is a smart one."


    Azeem interrupted.


    Zafar whipped around.


    "Excuse me?"


    "You heard me."


    He continued, not bothering to look up:


    "The Sultan might''ve protected her in the beginning only to end up overwhelmed, so he bolted, using her as bait. You can see it happening, can''t you?"


    "B-But..."


    While those two spoke of betrayal, the woman herself stayed quiet, eyes on the projection.@@novelbin@@


    She didn''t hear anything of what they said.


    She didn''t even feel La''s touch on her shoulder.


    There was only one thing on her mind.


    ''I wasn''t running from it.''


    ''I was running after him...''


    ''Like a damn fool.''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Safira turned, squaring her shoulders.


    Without another word, she started running, her feet kicking up sand as she fought against the wind.


    Malik watched her go, his heart heavy but his mind focused.


    He waited until she was a good distance ahead before turning to face the worm.


    The tremors were stronger now, the sandworm so close he could almost hear it cutting through the wind.


    With one hand tucked behind his back, Malik flicked his dagger free from its sheath.


    He gave it a casual twirl before holding it steady in front of him, the tip glinting.


    "Scorched Grace."


    His Aether responded instantly, coursing through his veins, and breathed into the de.


    Golden mes erupted along its edge, licking upward in a dance against the storm.


    The ground beneath him trembled like a drumbeat, rising to a crescendo.


    WHOOOOMPH!


    Then, with another explosive burst of sand, the massive sandworm tore free of the earth, its gaping maw wide enough to swallow a house.


    "You''ll fall."


    Malikunched himself forward with a single step, clouds of sand spraying out in his wake.


    Just as his other foot touched the ground, he stood directly before the worm, and at that moment, it was almost upon him, its maw a mere meter away.


    Yet he didn''t even flinch.


    Instead, he pivoted at thest second, the fire on his dagger ring brighter.


    Using all his strength, he cut upward, shooting out a fiery de of gold.


    The mes screamed, cleaving through flesh, bone, and sinew, splitting it from maw to tail.


    Then, an explosion erupted along its body, consuming it in a blinding wave of heat.


    Its massive carcass mmed into the sand, twitching for only a moment before going still.


    "Houff..."


    Malik blew out a breath, spinning the dagger once before pointing it downward, the mes dimming to a faint glow.


    "Not bad... Guess all those Blinks paid off after all."


    But, unfortunately, his victory was cut short.


    The ground rumbled again¡ªharder this time.


    He froze, eyes narrowing at the sand around him, rippling like water.


    "Ah no..."


    WHOOOOMPH!


    An explosion of sand rolled through the desert as a sandworm burst from the dunes.


    WHOOOOMPH! WHOOOOMPH! WHOOOOMPH!


    First one. Then two. Five. Ten¡ªeach one massive, each one hungry, and somehow uglier than thest.


    "You''ve gotta be kidding me."


    Malik slowly turned in ce, his gaze darting from one worm to the next.


    They surrounded him in a wide circle, their movements disturbingly synchronized.


    "All right...


    Rolling his shoulders a couple of times, he cracked his neck, a unique routine he did before any battle.


    "If that''s how you wanna y it."


    His other hand reached for his dagger and he held it up high with both.


    The de responded instantly to his intent.


    "Fine by me."


    His mes spiraled upward like a miniature inferno, a ferocity that made the air shimmer.


    "I''ll massacre the lot of you!"

 Chapter 91 For Whom The Bell Tolls

    The sandworms didn''t wait¡ªthey came at him all at once, a wall of teeth and death.


    It was a nightmarish charge, one that would''ve brought terror to the hearts of many men.


    Yet, again, Malik didn''t even flinch in the face of it.


    The first worm arrived, flying through the air, and he ducked low, sliding under its shadow, his dagger raised to the sky.


    mes roared, and his de carved through its underbelly, gutting and cooking it alive.


    The beast copsed dead just as itnded.


    He spun to face the next.


    The worm lunged like the one before, but not so far off the ground, forcing him to dart to the side.


    It hit nothing but sand, and he was already on it, leaping onto its back, digging his dagger into its thick hide.


    Boom!


    His mes exploded into it, sending chunks of burning flesh flying.


    In response, the worm thrashed wildly, but Malik held on, his feet nted firmly as he drove the de deeper.


    "Stay. Down!"


    After another burst of fire, he yanked the dagger free and jumped, slicing it across its spine as it slithered underneath him.


    The worm died before it could even go past, twitching once and then going still.


    WHOOOOMPH! WHOOOOMPH!


    Two more came, side by side.


    Malik waited a beat, letting them close in, and then leaped straight at them.


    Hended directly on a worm''s head, nting a boot deep in its flesh.


    Stepping off, he plunged his dagger into it on his way down, using gravity to slice it up.


    mes exploded, melting the wounds, and it crashed into the sand, thrashing. Dead.


    Malik didn''t pause.


    Before he could reach the ground, he flipped off its corpse, twisting mid-air.


    The other worm sliced through the air beneath him, smashing into its dead friend.


    "Die."


    Still upside down, he stabbed his dagger towards the ground, shooting a piercing tongue of fire, tearing through its neck.


    The head dropped. The body followed.


    WHOOOOMPH!


    Another sandworm came from behind, lunging at him while he was still in the air.


    Not panicking in the slightest, he shot himself downwards, then sidestepped as soon as he reached the ground and shed upward in one smooth motion.


    The mes did the rest, slicing it clean in half.


    A beat passed and the ground shook harder. Continue your adventure at My Virtual Library Empire


    More worms. Five. No, six. Seven.


    "Seriously?!"


    Malik shouted.


    "This shit a family reunion?"


    Four of them circled him.


    Their massive bodies rippled, moving in sync.


    One worm lunged from his left, but he was already moving.


    He slid under it, spinning around to drive his dagger into the side of its neck.


    Fire erupted again, and its head snapped to the side as it crumpled to the ground.


    Another worm came at him from behind.


    Without looking, he spun on his heel, his dagger trailing a fiery arc through the air.


    The me shot out, cutting clean through the beast''s mouth, splitting it in half before it could near him.


    WHOOOOMPH!


    Then the third.


    He jumped above it, ran along its stupidly long body, his dagger tearing through it, and dropped behind it, knowing of its death.


    WHOOOOMPH!


    The fourth came right after.


    He flipped over its head,nding on it.


    A quick stab to the skull and mes burst like fireworks.


    The fifth came fast. Too fast. Not caring for its friend''s life.


    Malik ran atop the forth and barely threw himself out of the way,nding in a roll.


    Seeing that he was down, the sixth rushed toward him, taking the opportunity it was presented.


    Its maw was upon him in moments, about to swallow him whole.


    He was going to die... but he didn''t look panicked, not in the least.


    Still on the ground, he thrust his dagger upward, straight into its mouth, the tip of the de touching one of its many teeth.


    Fwoosh¡ªBoom!


    The explosive impact pushed him out of death''s path while at the same time, his fire found its way down its throat, blowing it apart from the inside.


    "Houufff... Still standing."


    Letting out a rough breath, he stood up, panting as he watched thest two rush towards him, towering over him, their shadow swallowing him whole.


    Slowly, Malik raised his dagger, mes spiraling up.


    "Fall."


    Both worms lunged.


    He charged.


    Fire met flesh.


    Sand exploded everywhere.


    A moment passed and when the dust settled...


    "Godammit."


    Malik stood alone.


    The two sandworms had copsed behind him.


    He was heaving hard, much of his Aether already spent.


    Exhausted for sure, but still, he had won.


    VICTORY WAS HIS!


    "Malik!"


    Though only for a moment.


    Pulling him out of it was Safira''s scream, which sounded worried to a point way beyond normal, especially for her.


    Slowly, he turned, his teeth clenched, and sprinted in her direction.


    WHOOOOMPH!


    A sandworm erupted from the ground in his path, its maw wide and weing.


    "Ain''t got the time for you!"


    Without hesitation, he shed upward, shooting out a de of fire that sliced it in half.


    He continued to run forward, going in between its flesh, not wanting to waste a single fraction.


    "What''s wrong?!"


    Malik yelled as he reached her, his voice barely audible over the storm.


    "Are you there?!"


    "I''m here! Anything wrong?!"


    "No, b-but¡ª"


    He grabbed her shoulder for a split second before pushing her forward.


    "Then don''t stop! Just keep going!"


    "O-Okay!"


    She nodded, her fear barely contained, and resumed running ahead.


    Malik watched her silhouette disappear into the storm before turning back to face his next opponent.


    This time the sandworms reached a count higher than ten.


    ...They sure were relentless.


    Thankfully, they seemed to not have much interest in Safira, enabling him to focus on one thing and one thing alone.


    Annihting them.


    He didn''t care for why exactly, but it was a pretty obvious guess.


    Her less-than-ideal Aether Core was simply too weak for consumption; they wanted something with more juice, and he, as mentioned by Cyrus, had a lot of that.


    Like the average Seeker to the Ahools back in Althawul, he was a delicacy to these worms.


    They came at him in waves, their massive bodies tearing through dunes and carcasses alike.


    Malik''s dagger was starting to crack as he shot out one me after another, tiny chunks of the de crumbling away.


    It was a day-and-night differencepared to what happened with his shamshir, as he had improved his control by leaps and bounds since then, but it still wasn''t good enough to where no damage would reach the de.


    For that, he needed his Aether to be fullypatible with his weapon.


    A technique he had no inkling of how to perform.


    So... he had no choice but to get up close and personal, using his fire only for concentrated attacks where the least amount of his Aether would be spent, in turn reducing its impact on his de.


    It was a dance, yet it wasn''t pretty. Not even close.


    Cuts and bruises decorated his body due to the many close calls he had endured.


    Sweat mixed with sand, stinging every open wound, and his steps started to falter.


    He wasn''t as quick as he had been ten minutes ago¡ªor even two minutes ago.


    The exhaustion was creeping in, slowing him down.


    And the sandworms? They noticed.


    One came barreling toward him, inches away from swallowing him whole.


    But before it could, he rolled out of its path and shed upward, sending a streak of fire straight through its hide.


    The worm''s head was cut off clean.


    "Come on! You want me? Then COME GET ME!"


    He heaved heavily as he got back into his stance, eyes scanning for the others through the storm.


    Before he could get to one of them, though...


    "Malik!"


    Another scream from Safira cut through the storm.


    "Fuck¡ªnot now."


    He cursed under his breath and sprinted toward her voice.


    Blood dripped from a gash on his side, and his legs felt like lead, but he pushed forward.


    When he reached her, she was huddled behind a dune, her face pale and her hands trembling.


    "Malik!"


    "I''m here..."


    He kneeled beside her and ced a hand on her shoulder, not allowing her to turn around.


    "You''re okay. You''re okay."


    "I can''t¡ª"


    She started, but he cut her off.


    "You can. You''re almost there. Just a little further, Safira. Go. Now... please."


    Safira hesitated, her eyes searching his face.


    "GO!"


    He shoved her forward before she could and stepped back, returning to his battlefield.


    After a few minutes, this repeated¡­ once, twice, thrice, bing a cycle.


    Malik would kill the sandworms, then rush to Safira whenever she called out, only to dive back into the fray.


    Every sh tore him apart a little more.


    New cuts, new bruises, new blood painting the sand.


    His Aether Core was running on fumes, nearly turning him hollow, the fire in his dagger flickering like a dying candle.


    The de barely held together, cracks spreading like spiderwebs, one good hit away from shattering.


    But, of course, he didn''t stop. Couldn''t stop.


    Every worm he killed, every step forward, was another inch closer to getting Safira out of this nightmare.


    And then it happened.


    He made a mistake.


    His focus was elsewhere, allowing a sandworm to get close unnoticed.


    WHOOOOMPH!


    It flew out of the ground behind him, just shy of his back.


    At thest possible moment, he dove out of the way, hitting the sand hard.


    He''d barely avoided getting swallowed whole.


    Gasping, Malik staggered to his feet, only to freeze.


    In the direction he now faced... twelve more could be seen.


    Twelve massive sandworms, all closing in like vultures on a corpse.


    His hands trembled as he nced at his dagger.


    The fire was nearly gone, just a faint, pitiful flicker, and the de was done for, cracks zigzagging across its surface.


    He''d lost.


    This was it.


    No way out.


    Malik would have to try again.


    He raised his dagger to his neck, about to Blink.


    But then, something caught his eye, just between a few distant dunes.


    There it was... The edge of the storm¡ªand untouched by sand.


    And touched by humanity, its ground stone, its trees, buildings, and its hill... a miracle.


    Here was Zephyr''s Ascension, a natural airlift that connected all of Al-Fawra''syers, a vent of Aether into the outside world, beyond the maw.


    Malik barely saw a glimpse of Safira''s silhouette stumble forward, entering thatnd.


    He felt relief flooding his chest.


    "She made it..."


    Those words were almost lost in the chaos around him.


    Finally. She was safe... Finally!


    "That''s it... "


    He almostughed.


    "It''s done."


    His job was over.


    Malik turned, ready to follow her, to leave this cursed desert behind.


    Fffshhh!


    And yet, just before he could, the ground shifted beneath him.


    A chain of sand erupted, wrapping tight around his ankle like a snake.


    He stumbled as it yanked him to the ground, his dagger slipping from his grasp.


    The sand hit hard, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.


    "Agh¡ª!"


    Pain shot through him, but something else froze him and his grunt in ce.


    A presence. No, multiple presences, ones too strong for this ce.


    Something about them seemed to have calmed the storm a little, shooing away the worms.


    Malik looked up, his vision blurring from heat, pain, blood loss, and exhaustion.


    Through the swirling sand, he saw them, cloaked figures. Ten of them.


    They moved as a unit, the sand parting around them like it feared to touch them.


    Once they got close, he noticed that their robes bore a Title.


    A Title he knew all too well.


    The Faraja.@@novelbin@@


    "Of course..."


    A bitterugh escaped his lips.


    "Just my luck."


    The lead figure stepped forward, his face partially obscured by the cloth wrapping his head, leaving only cold eyes visible.


    "Malik. You stand used of grave transgressions against thews that safeguard the sanctity of the Markaz and its Holy Kingdom. By the decree of the Faraja, you are hereby bound to answer for your deeds¡ªfor murder most heinous, for the ruin of that which was not yours toy to waste, and for defying the will of the Divine Order itself."


    The words struck like hammer blows, echoing in his ears.


    And then, everything paused.


    The storm faded.


    The sound of the desert vanished.


    ***


    Or rather, it wasn''t that time itself that paused, but the projection did.


    Slowly, it faded to ck, and a text obvious to all on the outside was disyed.


    {Will Resume Shortly...}


    {End Of Volume Two: For Whom The Bell Tolls.}

 Chapter 92 Justice Is Blind

    [Would you like a short break? Your life''s second volume, ''For Whom The Bells Tolls,'' has concluded.]


    A beat.


    ''Yes.''


    Ding!


    That stupid, familiar sound repeated, reenacting his first ''break.''


    What followed was the Script, right in his mind''s eye, taking over everything.


    {Felicitaciones. Gratulerer. Herzlichen Gl¨¹ckwunsch. Parab¨¦ns. §±§à§Ù§Õ§â§Ñ§Ó§Ý§ñ§ð. Gratcje. F¨¦licitations. ×£ºØ. ¤ª¤á¤Ç¤È¤¦¤´¤¶¤¤¤Þ¤¹. ¦²¦Ô¦Ã¦Ö¦Á¦Ñ¦Ç¦Ó?¦Ñ¦É¦Á. Ch¨²c m?ng. Tillykke. ?Enhorabuena!. Mazal Tov. ?????. Badhai Ho. ?estitamo. Gratul¨¢lok. ?nnitlused. Apsveicam. Tahniah... Congrattions.}


    ''Sure, sure.''


    With that, Malik was a soul again, floating high above his body.


    Everything was the same, or so he thought at first.


    He could feel it.


    His soul was stronger.


    It was like he was being rebuilt from scratch.


    Before he started all this, he was mortal, no different than any other dreg you could find in the streets.


    But after the ''first volume?''


    He had Ascended. Bing a Magi.


    Now, with the ''second volume'' over, he was a Nadhir, an Al-Saif, just like the Malik of so long ago.


    It seemed that the Divine Rank of his soul aligned with his memories, going up as it did.


    He was nearing his goal of escape, and it wouldn''t take much longer.


    Nine days of suffering in the real world and a couple of hundred years in the projection... not too much of a price for freedom, right?


    Well, he''d actually say so.


    Malikpletely stood by that.


    After all, to him, freedom was priceless.


    The fact that it was achievable was enough to keep going.


    In other times, he would''ve smiled at the news, knowing that he wasn''t being cheated.


    Happy that his suffering wasn''t useless, that it wasn''t only for ''Her'' entertainment.


    And yet... right now he was as nk as a stone.


    While he had be Malik and Malik had be him, this embodiment was still affecting him. Quite a lot at that.


    Sure, though it wasn''t at the level of the previous Malik, he too began to see... things.


    Illusions of the mind.


    The crowd underneath him wasn''t just a crowd.


    They''d glitch out, show themselves as things they were not.


    Things that he had no words to describe.


    It wasn''t all bad, however.


    A massive creature near the front took most of his attention.@@novelbin@@


    Oh, the owl. His soul-bound pet and lifelongpanion.


    He looked so bright, so beautiful... so fluffy.


    It was technically the first time they met, but Malik had missed him so damn much.


    Seeing him still alive almost brought tears to his eyes. Almost.


    The owl''spany soured his mood, though.


    Huda, that brat, not deserving even a feather on its body, was leaning on it!


    ''Who the fuck does she think she is?!''


    If he could, he''d get back in his body, break those chains, and start beating the shit out of her with them as weapons.


    But, of course, even if he could, the other half of him that still loved her would stop him from doing so.


    It was who he was now... a walking, breathing, living contradiction.


    Shaking his head, he looked back at the crowd.


    ''Most of them left... did they get bored or something?''


    Shrugging, he turned towards the projection, no... rather, to his body.


    ''And you... Why were the memories that you gave me iplete?''


    He wasn''t talking to himself but to the previous Malik.


    ''Falling Into Depravity... Corruption... only now do I understand it.''


    ''A-After Jasmine... her Fall.''


    ''Still, not everything is clear. There are gaps; I can see them now.''


    Malik could see it... as obvious as the twelve moons in the night sky.


    All memories rted to corruption were locked, as if time-gated.


    He''d need to reach that point in his memories to fully remember them.


    Why? There had to be a reason, right?


    And, as anyone would expect, there was. A pretty obvious one.


    Just as his Divine Rank increased the more he embodied, his knowledge did so as well.


    That kept him alive.


    Malik shouldn''t be directly exposed to anything too far beyond his Divine Rank¡ªany knowledge, technique, or even event.


    Mere words rting to such things would Corrupt his soul, never mind entire memories.


    Of course, that wasn''t only applicable to him.


    It applied to all of humankind.


    Eventually, every mortal or low-ranking Magi on Devil''s Maw would end up Corrupted.


    The would be overrun.


    They will die.


    Roya had doomed herself and everyone around her without even knowing it.


    Or... his system might just skip those scenes, censor the knowledge.


    Thetter made a lot more sense when the system''s creator was considered.


    Lady Of Time.


    Would the death of all ckeyes benefit her? He didn''t think so.


    And there was no way she''d do anything "just because."


    Beings like ''Her,'' who Ascended their way into Godhood, were too calctive for that.


    Of course, there''d be outliers even within ''Their'' fold but from what he saw of ''Her'' so far, ''She'' was not one of them.


    "Shit is never simple, huh?..."


    Letting out a non-existent sigh, he closed his eyes shut.


    Whatever happened here was none of his business.


    If they died by hands other than his own, maybe his soul wouldn''t force him to cry to death.


    "Bassor¨¡h."


    {Note: Going back now would mean you''d stay in the void for a little while, unable to listen or see the outside world. Is that eptable?}


    Raising a brow, he waved away the Script.


    "...Why?"


    It came back.


    {The third volume is being prepared. It can''t resume until it reaches a perfect standard.}


    He rolled his eyes, not caring for whatever hidden meaning was behind those words.


    "I don''t care... just let me rest for a bit."


    {Understood.}


    His world went dark.


    ***


    Unknowing of his struggle, the hall remained quiet, stuck in position as if their time was as frozen as the projection.


    Almost everyone had a guess or two about what was going to happen, believing themselves to be smart.


    But this... it came out of left field.


    So unexpected that half of the crowd''s jaws had hit the floor.


    Sure, it ended in the same result, a misunderstanding. A lie that they were made to believe. One which technically resulted in their guess being a correct one, but the method of reaching that end differedpletely.


    Malik didn''t abandon her; he wasn''t too injured to move, and he didn''t get lost.


    It was way simpler than that.


    Way crueler.


    It just... stunned them. One second they were celebrating his sess... and the next?


    This. Whatever this was.


    Though, as was expected, not all the Magi felt the same.


    A hardened group was more interested in the incredible feat they just witnessed, not his arrest.


    "Did he just break some reco¡ª?"


    "Yeah, yeah, he did! That was what? Fifty worms?!"


    "Fifty-two."


    Someone corrected, voice dripping with awe.


    "He didn''t even slow down in the storm. Did you see that move? He flipped over one, stabbed the other mid-air, then rolled like it was nothing!"


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    "And that de¡ªoh man, that dagger was singing. It was this close¡ªthis close!¡ªto full fusion with his Scorched Grace or whatever he called it."


    "Close? Are you blind? The Sultan was practically there. He only needed someone to nudge him an inch in the right direction."


    "Yeah! The de was crying out for a proper sync."


    "His stamina was surprising too! How is he even standing after all that? I swear, you can''tpare any other Saif with him."


    "Man''s built different. He''s powering up fast. Too fast. It''s insane."


    "But then the Faraja had to show up."


    A random interrupted their parade bitterly.


    "Talk about timing. They didn''t even wait for him to catch his breath."


    "Yeah, what the fuck was that? He just saved her¡ªLady Safira¡ªand now this?!"


    "It''s straight-up bullshit, that''s what it is."


    "Who even snitched on him?!"


    "Doesn''t matter, you heard those usations. Murder? Ruin? Defying the Divine Order? He''ll be in the dungeon for long."


    "I mean... he didn''t do anything wrong. The ve trade wasn''t banned back then, but still, the way they went at it was hical, to say the least... They had iting."


    "Sorry guys, whether you like it or not, his actions were against thew."


    "Whatever man... He''s been through enough already. When''s he gonna catch a break?"


    "When the world stops screwing him over, that''s when."


    "And... L-Lady Safira? What now that we''ve found out the truth?"


    That brought a pause, their eyes ncing at the group up front.


    They couldn''t see what was happening over there as Safira''s camp surrounded her like earlier, ensuring privacy, but they didn''t really need to.


    Anyone could guess by now that her appearance was a miserable one.


    "...Yeah. Knowing the truth after so long must hurt. Especially after throwing around those usations."


    "Can you me her?"


    Another voice chimed in, quieter this time.


    "She thought he abandoned her. Left her to die out there in that storm."


    "She didn''t see the worms! Or what he did for her!"


    "How could she? She was too busy fighting for her life!"


    "Exactly! He was protecting her the whole damn time. She just¡­ didn''t know."


    "It''s just unfortunate. All her life she thought he was some backstabbing bastard when the truth couldn''t be further from that."


    "And now... when she knows, it''s already toote."


    "The Sultan is gone."


    While that group reached a silence that was too heavy to be broken, another grew interested in the title drop.


    "Did you catch that? For Whom the Bell Tolls."


    "Yeah, what''s up with that? This Ten Commandment picked an easy onest time. I don''t get this one. It''s weird."


    "It''s not weird. It''s poetic."


    Another chimed in, arms crossed.


    "There''s a deeper meaning to it."


    "Deeper meaning, huh? Like what? The Sultan cultivated, killed a monkey, cultivated again, let its family go, killed more monkeys, killed vers, rescued ves, taught, killed a Roc, lost a little sister who crushed on him, taught again, killed sandworms, saved Lady Safira, and then got arrested. What''s a bell got to do with any of that?"


    "It''s not about the bell itself, genius. It''s a metaphor. You know, like how church bells ring when someone dies or when judgment''sing."


    "Okay, but why call it that? He''s not dead¡ªyet¡ªand the Faraja showing up wasn''t exactly divine judgment."


    "I think it''s more straightforward... the bell tolls for everyone. Nobody escapes it."


    "Yeah, okay, I get that, but still, what''s this uh, a Ten Commandment trying to say?"


    "Think about it."


    A middle-aged man replied, leaning forward while stroking his beard.


    "The Sultan killed vers, right? Scum who deserved it. But thew doesn''t care about who they were or what they did. It only cares about the act. Killing''s killing. The bell tolls for everyone. Even them."


    A murmur rippled through the group as the realization sank in.


    "That''s¡­ harsh."


    "Harsh, but true. Thew doesn''t pick sides. Doesn''t matter if you''re a hero or a viin. When it''s your time to answer for what you''ve done, you answer."


    "Still feels wrong, though."


    A woman spoke softly.


    "He saved ves... Our Lady Safira! He did the right thing! And now he''s the one getting judged? Where''s the justice in that?"


    The old man smiled.


    "Maybe that''s the point... Justice isn''t perfect. It''s blind."

 Chapter 93 A Lie

    Meanwhile, the one who kepting up in conversations, Safira... she just stood there, staring.


    Her whole body felt like it wasn''t hers anymore, like she''d been transmigated a second time.


    ''No...''


    ''No, this isn''t real.''


    ''It can''t be real.''


    But it was. No matter how much she wished that it wasn''t.


    It was as real as the divine and as fake as the promises men made in its name.


    Nobody could deny it. Nobody. Not even her own mind. It was the truth, in and simple.


    "Hhk..."


    Her breath hitched, a choked sound breaking from her throat.


    This before her was her teacher, shackled like a criminal, a Goddamn animal. And why?


    ...Because he saved her.


    The price of her freedom was his own.


    But if he hadn''t¡­ If he hadn''t done what he did, she''d be¡ª


    ''No!''


    Safira shuddered so hard she almost copsed, barely able to stay on her feet, but that wasn''t because she had strength in her legs; no, they had given outpletely. It was La.


    Before she could facent, she was there, catching her, keeping her upright, letting her lean on her, carrying more than just physical weight.


    "He¡­"


    Safira''s hands gripped La''s dress like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apartpletely.


    "He didn''t leave me¡­"


    The words came out barely above a whisper.


    "He never left me¡­"


    Her vision blurred, and the flood returned¡ªhot, endless¡ªwhile sobs shook her whole body.


    She could barely breathe. It hurt... It hurt.


    All this time. All this time. She thought he had abandoned her. Thought he had just disappeared, leaving her alone in that nightmare. But he hadn''t. He couldn''t. They had taken him from her. Stole him away and left her with nothing but a lie.


    "WHY?!"


    A broken wail tore out of her throat, and she buried her face in La''s dress.


    It was too much. Too much.


    "Safira."


    Then¡ªwarmth. Tears, not of her own, trailed her cheek.


    "You..."


    It was La''s... her arms wrapping tighter around her.


    "You didn''t know¡­"


    "You weren''t supposed to know¡­"


    "You were just a kid¡­"


    Safira''s sobs came harder, messier.


    She wanted to scream, to rage, to undo it all.


    But all she could do was cry, drowning in the truth she had spent centuries never knowing.


    That relief that she felt... twice. Was nothing but a farce.


    There was nothing to feel relieved about.


    She didn''t turn him into the bloodthirsty Sultan?


    Bullshit.


    Like Huda, shepletely believed in a lie and med him for it throughout his entire life.


    When they met again, she didn''t just forget to thank him¡ªshe acted like he had betrayed her.


    Him. Betray. HER.


    That didn''t stop at just being ungrateful... she was a dog.


    A bitch that bit the hand that fed her.


    "Heh..."


    Watching them, Huda showed a soft smile, a few of her tears leaving her.


    She knew exactly what Safira was feeling, having gone through it only hours ago.


    It was something that she didn''t even begin to process, a tragedy that would stay with her till herst breath.


    Yet, even that time wasn''t given to Safira.


    The world shook.


    BOOM!


    The Holy Pce, as big as a town, trembled in its entirety, an explosion ripping through it.


    The ground beneath them lurched, dust and shattered stone raining down from above.


    The walls groaned. And before anyone could even process what was happening¡ª


    BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!


    More. Closer. Louder.


    Hoooooooooooooooooot!


    Shoved gently by Crimson, Huda was the first to snap out of it.


    "We''re under attack!"


    She shouted, wiping away her tears, and shoving her right hand in the left''s sleeve. Pulling it out, a short sword adorned her grip.


    "Get ready!"


    Not one Magi showed a face of panic.


    Smart or dumb as they were, these Magi were Guards, Warriors, Knights, Priests, Inquisitors, Seekers, Professors, Caliphs, Family Heads, Princes, Princesses, Kings, and Queens. Shahs of every walk of life.


    They all knew war enough not to disgrace themselves before their leaders.


    "Form a perimeter! Protect the sanctum!"


    Noor was barking orders while Zafar stood tall in the front, hands glowing with Aether, eyes scanning for the enemy.


    "Who would dare attack the Holy Pce?"


    The echoes of chaos filled the hall¡ªuntil they didn''t.


    Because then¡­ footsteps.


    Lone, steady footsteps, echoing through the broken silence.


    Clickck, clickck, clickck...


    The crowd hesitated, weapons half-raised, ncing at each other in confusion.


    The explosions had stopped, yet here came¡­ someone. Walking. Alone.


    The steps drew closer, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.


    And then a man appeared.


    He stepped into the hall, his clothes dusted with ash, his expression unreadable.


    He wasn''t injured. Wasn''t afraid. He just¡­ stood there, letting the tension stretch until it was unbearable.


    "...They''re dead."


    His voice was t.


    "All of them."


    The words cut through the hall like a de.


    "What?"


    Zafar stepped forward, fists clenched.


    "Who? Who''s dead?"


    "The guards."


    The man shook his head.


    "Some idiot ying merchant handed out extra cores to them. Buy one get one free type of deal. More power... free time, they thought. But, surprising all of us, their bodies couldn''t handle the surge. And so¡­"


    He gestured vaguely behind him.


    "Boom."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Silence.


    "¡­That doesn''t make sense."


    Noor frowned, turning to Roya.


    "They were trained enough to mimic the technique."


    "Right, they should''ve been fine."


    Zafar murmured, following her gaze.


    "But they weren''t..."


    The man then added, doing the same:


    "And I think you all know why."


    Slowly, every head in the hall turned.


    Where? To Roya.


    She was frozen, eyes locked on something none of them could see.


    Her body was slightly tense as if listening to a voice just beyond their reach.


    Then she shuddered.


    "¡­It''s not just them."


    A chill swept through the hall.


    "Tens... maybe even hundreds. They¡ª"


    She sucked in a breath.


    "They''re all dead."


    Confused murmurs rippled through the crowd.


    "But how?!"


    "Didn''t you say that the technique had seeded?!"


    "Did you lie to us?!"


    Roya lifted her gaze, and the look in her eyes sent a shiver down spines.


    "The technique."


    Her voice was hoarse, distant.


    "It works. But it ONLY works for those of lower rank¡­ below Jinn, or those who use weak cores,cking in Aether."


    At those words, a terrible realization dawned.


    These deaths... all of them could''ve been avoided so easily.


    Everyone there without exception had overlooked something obvious.


    Of course the details of the technique would differ with stronger cores!


    Just How?... How could they miss something so damn obvious?!


    Were they... was SHE that affected by Malik''s memories?


    Neither she nor they wanted the answer to that question.


    They''d rather forget that any of this had ever happened.


    And that was what they proceeded to do.


    ***


    The void stretched endlessly, and I floated, weightless, directionless.


    I did the only thing I could. Think...


    Lose myself in what I could only describe as my mind.


    To me, life was, is, and will always be brilliant, beautiful.


    It enchanted us to the point of obsession¡ªlike some magician pulling tricks that left you hooked, desperate to see the next one... the next day.


    Even here, surrounded by nothingness, I felt its pull.


    But why? ¡­Going where? What am I even holding onto?


    I couldn''t say.


    Some were true to their purpose, though they were but shells. Flesh and mind, nothing more. I wonder, was I any different?


    Was I true to my purpose?


    Or was I just another empty vessel, drifting, pretending it all had meaning?


    I often thought of the man who lost his body but lingered on as a head.


    A grotesque existence¡ªno arms to grasp, no legs to walk, no heart to beat.


    And yet, he lived... If you could call it that.


    What a life, right? Barely scraping by, but for what?


    What kept him going? Was it sheer will?


    Some stubborn instinct to cling to what little remained?


    Or was it just fear¡ªthe same primal terror that drove all things to keep moving, even when there was nowhere left to go?


    Could that even be called survival? Or was he just proof that existence didn''t need purpose, only persistence?


    And if that were true, what would that say about me?


    Again... I could not say.


    What about those who chased love? Were they any different?


    The ones endlessly drawn to something they could never truly hold?


    Always chasing, never finding.


    I used to think love was the answer, but now?


    For the third time... I could not say.


    I didn''t even know what I was chasing.


    Light banished Dark and all that stemmed from humanity.


    It had left them iplete. Imperfect.


    Men assumed a fleeting form, fragile, and unconnected to the cosmic truth.@@novelbin@@


    These were the roots of our world... our hotpot of chaos and order.


    Of life and death.


    Of ruin and rebirth.


    Of endless war and fleeting peace.


    Of dying embers and undying shadows.


    Of a God who turned ''His'' back on men, and men who raged against their fate.


    Of cursed wisdom¡ªtruths too heavy to bear, knowledge that corroded the soul.


    Of blessed ignorance¡ªthe mercy of not knowing, the peace of blind faith.


    One a burden, the other a shackle. Neither truly free.


    Of fire stolen and chains reforged, a cycle neither broken norplete.


    A world never meant to be fair. Never meant to be kind. Only real.


    It made us who we were and who we weren''t.


    So... What was it that drove me? What was it that drove anyone?


    We returned to the beginning... I was stuck, going in circles. More so as time went by.


    I felt like I was bing someone else''s puppet, moving to their strings, walking a path that wasn''t mine, following a script I never wrote.


    Was that my fate? To exist as a prop on someone else''s stage?


    A nobody? A medium in which a story inched to its finale?


    A cog in the machine, turning, recing, repeating¡ªacross this life and thest?


    If not... Then what else was there?


    It was all I ever knew.


    What could I do to escape that?


    Could I even escape it?


    "..."


    The void didn''t answer... I didn''t answer.


    I just keep turning the questions over and over in my mind.


    And maybe... maybe that was the truth of it all.


    No matter how tender, how exquisite, how convincing the story¡ªI was starting to think it was all a lie. And no matter what I told myself, no matter how much I wanted to believe otherwise¡­


    "A lie will always be a lie."


    For a story built on a false purpose could never truly go on.


    "Bassor¨¡h."


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    ...


    {Volume 3: When the Sparrow Falls.}

 Chapter 94 Entrance To Hell

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Don''t resist, kid; we don''t wanna rough you up too much."


    Malik didn''t need to be told; he knew better than to resist arrest... of course.


    No tension was in his muscles, no defiance in his posture. He let the officers get close, let them think he was done. Gave them the illusion of surrender, even tilting his head slightly, seemingly bored.


    "Who snitched?"


    His question sounded casual like he was talking about the weather.


    The lead figure didn''t hesitate.


    "The ves you freed."


    "...Seriously?"


    "I find no reason to lie or joke about this."


    A small chuckle left Malik''s lips.


    He should''ve known.


    The irony was almost poetic.


    The people he saved had sealed his fate.


    "That so?"


    Another Faraja member, a younger one, spoke up:


    "They begged for your life, you know. Said if we had to take you, to at least let the others go. The girl, Safira, and another. Jasmine."


    ''...Jasmine.''


    Malik exhaled through his nose.


    So that was their price¡ªhis freedom in exchange for theirs.


    He didn''t me them. If anything, he was d.


    What a damn expensive way to buy their own chains off, though.


    Beautiful, really. In a twisted way.


    "Don''t take it to heart."


    The younger one added, almost like an apology.


    Malik shook his head.


    "Wasn''t nning to. Freedom doesn''te cheap. I get it."


    The leader stepped closer, eyes narrowing.


    "The girl outside the storm. Safira. She''s waiting for you, isn''t she?"


    "Yeah."


    "And the other one? Jasmine."


    Malik''s calm didn''t waver.


    "Gone."


    A pause.


    Then a shove.


    The leader pressed him into the ground with a hand to his back.


    "You killed her too, huh? Bastard."


    Malik met his stare, brow frowning just a fraction.


    "Yeah... say hi to her for me."@@novelbin@@


    Then¡ªbefore anyone could even think about reacting¡ªhis fingers twitched.


    A tiny me was brought to life above his pinky.


    He barely moved, just a flick of his finger, but that was all it took.


    The me snapped forward, hitting the sand¡ª


    Fshh!


    The ground exploded, sting his dagger straight back toward him.


    One smooth motion. One seamless second.


    His hand closed around the hilt¡ªcracked, barely holding together¡ªbut it was his.


    A sharp twist. A clean thrust. The dagger flew. And just like that, the steel buried itself right in the bastard''s throat.


    Blood gushed. He choked, copsed. His chain of sand went along with him.


    Shocked gasps erupted around Malik, but he was already moving, deeper into the storm, into the chaos. He certainly wasn''t about to wait to see the aftermath.


    "Fucker killed Cassim!"


    "GET HIM!"


    "YOU WON''T GET AWAY!"


    Sand exploded behind him. Shouts. Footsteps pounding. Yet none reached him.


    The storm swallowed everything, turning his world into a suffocating, blinding nightmare.


    And Malik, already used to such a nightmare, had disappeared.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    While he escaped, most of those outside ran around, fixing up the Holy Pce.


    It was a mess. Smoke still hung in the air, the floor cracked in ces, and the stench of burnt bodies clung to everything.


    On the walls, many tens of seals glowed, activated by the attendants.


    They had fixed and stabilized most of the damage, only needing a few more minutes to return the pce to a nearly brand-new state, even better than how it looked before the explosion.


    "Alright, get seal twelve up before seal six is done! C''mon!"


    They worked fast, seals pulsing with Aether, mending what could be saved and recing what couldn''t.


    It took longer than the few minutes they expected, stretching into the double digits, but they were done, the ce appearing to have gone through a thorough polishing.


    Every Magi took a breath, shaking off the tension, before turning as one to Roya.


    But before they could even open their mouths, she cut them off.


    "Don''t."


    Her voice was cold.


    "Whatever you''re about to say, just don''t. I didn''t do this. I only provided the information. You were the ones who didn''t consider all the variables."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    A heavy silence settled over the crowd.


    Stay connected via My Virtual Library Empire


    Roya''s gaze swept across them, daring anyone to challenge her.


    No one did.


    Those that dared, however, were thankfully not affected, none of their Magi dead.


    All of Safira''s camp had stayed, while La''s only bought and sold the cores.


    Noor''s people had yet to go through with it.


    Under hermand, they waited for others, expecting that a "condition" would be soon found, and sure enough, she was right.


    Zafar''s henchmen were too scared to go through with it, likely still promising to buy each other drinks while Azeem''s started their journey as merchants. One of them might''ve even been the "idiot" that gave out the cores for free.


    Those of Al-Sayf simply didn''t know what the Hell was going on, and only now did their leader realize how much of a blessing that was.


    "I lost people too."


    Roya continued, her voice quieter but no less firm.


    "So if you think I''m just standing here unaffected, you''re wrong."


    She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before fixing them all with a pointed look.


    "But instead of wasting time whining about it, maybe you should pay attention to the projection."


    Her expression darkened.


    "Unless, of course, you''d rather miss the Sultan''s escape from the Faraja."


    The hall went still; a few opened and closed their mouths, wanting to say something but eventually didn''t. A good decision.


    And just like that, theints died in their throats.


    They''d demandpensationter... through other, more hidden means, but now?


    Their interest in how he managed to escape was too high to ignore.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik ran as fast as he could, sand spraying behind him.


    The chances of those Faraja officers finding him had thinned, but his troubles sure hadn''t.


    He went on for minutes, running and running, but the moment he paused to catch his breath...


    WHOOOOMPH!


    Twelve massive sandworms entered his vision.


    They had been waiting, lurking beneath the dunes, just watching him fumble his way toward them.


    What was better than a meal that brought itself to you on a silver tter? Those worms couldn''t say. And now that their meal was close enough, their hunger took over, the ground rumbling as they moved in.


    "Shit, shit, shit¡ªAm I that much of a fucking delicacy to them?!"


    He twisted and booked it straight for Zephyr''s Ascension.


    Surviving here was impossible.


    No dagger, no Scrolls, nothing.


    Escape was his only option.


    The worms chased, diving in and out of the sand, shaking him with each step.


    Malik didn''t look back, staying solely on course.


    One fall and he''d be swallowed whole. He couldn''t afford distractions.


    By his hundredth step, the dunes gave way to stone, then buildings¡ªactual buildings.


    But he didn''t stop, not yet. He didn''t know if they''d pause outside thend, and he wasn''t keen on finding that out.


    "Get out of the way!"


    Malik sprinted past rows of structures, shoving past confused people who cursed at him. Though they couldn''t do that for long...


    WHOOOOMPH!


    The sand at the edge of town exploded, announcing their arrival.


    He looked back and watched as anarchy erupted. The worms seemingly headed straight for him, smashing into buildings, sending debris flying.


    "Fuck you."


    Following his murmur, people screamed, scattered, and ran for their lives.


    "W-What the fuck?!"


    "How did they get past the barrier?!"


    "RUN!"


    "God, help us!"


    "They''re tearing everything apart!"


    "My shop! My damn shop!"


    "Somebody stop them!"


    "Where are the officers?!"


    "Move, MOVE!"


    "Somebody do something!"


    Many appeared to have died, crushed by the sandworms'' massive bodies.


    It was a harrowing sight, people squashed to paste.


    Malik didn''t have time to feel bad, though.


    He just kept running, ignoring everything happening around him.


    Then he saw it¡ªthe hill.


    A lush, green mound in the middle of this Godforsaken ce, filled with strange, glowing nts, the air thick with Aether. And at its peak, the vent.


    Zephyr''s Ascension.


    A single point of many in Al-Fawra where Aether surged, lifting people up and out.


    This was what he needed, an escape route straight to the outside world.


    But it wasn''t going to be easy.


    Two, three, four¡ªmultiple long-ass lines stretched up the hill, people waiting their turn to pass through the Faraja checkpoint that surrounded the vent made of blue-uniform officers.


    ''...Shit.''


    Malik knew damn well he wasn''t making it through by blending in that line or that checkpoint.


    His eyes darted around, searching, scanning, anything¡ª


    Then he saw it, just a few hundred meters away.


    A second vent. Smaller. Darker.


    It was arge hole in the rock, spewing out an unnatural wind, not pulling people up but sucking downward.


    The air around it distorted, warping like heat off the desert sand.


    The opposite of Zephyr''s Ascension.


    It looked like a one-way ticket to Hell.


    Malik hesitated.


    Every instinct screamed at him not to go down there.


    That thing wasn''t an exit¡ªit was a tomb.


    If survival in the firstyer was already this tough... he had no chance of making it in the second; surviving for more than a few minutes might even be a miracle with no chance of happening.


    But then, before he could make a decision...


    "He''s there! Get him!"


    The Faraja had found him.


    "Fuck it."


    Without a second thought, Malik bolted for the vent.


    Ten seconds. That was all it took.


    Screams rang out behind him, but they were just noise¡ªwhite noise.


    He wasn''t about to give them another shot at grabbing his ankles.


    No hesitation. No second chances.


    This hole straight into Hell?


    It was the only way.


    Malik dove in.

 Chapter 95 A Mans Grin

    "Woaaah..."


    The first thing Malik noticed was the force of the drop.


    Aether and wind were pushing against him, shoving him downward.


    The second thing was the absolute silence, like the darkness above the firstyer.


    It was sudden, eerie, and it wouldn''t be so far from the truth to say that he had just been swallowed by the world itself.


    No wind. No shouts. No worms. No thoughts. Just a void.


    And then¡ª


    Gravity came into y.


    It took him, yanking him down and plummeting him further into the darkness.


    His stomach flipped, his body twisting uncontrobly. He reached for anything, but there was nothing to grab, nothing to slow his descent.


    All that was left was the sensation of endless falling.


    And to make things worse, time itself became distorted... elusive.


    He hadn''t counted at the start, and now? He was screwed.


    Minutes? Hours? Days? Who the Hell knew?


    Every time he tried to keep track, the numbers slipped right through his mind¡ªjust like sand through his fingers. Gone before he could even hold on.


    Though, despite him losing the concept of time, he was sure of one thing.


    It was taking long. Much longer than his first descent. Making him feel lost, feeling like a different person altogether.


    Without anyndmarks or audio cues, such a result was only natural


    But then, just before he could through an identity crisis, the air changed.


    It was as if he was jolted awake, the fall became slower, controlled.


    Gravity, Aether, and wind no longer dragged him down but cradled him, guiding him through instead of just letting him smash into the unseen below.


    Malik kept his eyes open, forcing them to adjust to the dim, pulsing light around him.


    The deeper he went, the more he saw¡ªstrange, bioluminescent nts clinging to the rocky walls all around him.


    Here, the air was thick, damp, and heavy with Aether, more than he had ever felt before.


    It wasn''t like the dry, harsh Aether of the desert. No, it was alive, pressing against his skin, filling his lungs.


    He felt rxed for a second, like he was back home, in bed, alone, knowing that the vers weren''ting any time soon, a cold piece of bread in his hands.


    A soothing feeling, making him feel sleepy¡ª


    ''Focus!''


    Just as he snapped out of that, the wind shifted again.


    Suddenly, he wasn''t falling anymore.


    The ground came up nearly in an instant and hended surprisingly softly.


    "...The maw''s more gentle than its inhabitants."


    With that, Malik stood, catching his breath while ncing around.


    He was in a cavern, massive and stretching far beyond what his eyes could see.


    Stctites hung from above, glimmering with faint, unnatural light.@@novelbin@@


    The rock beneath him pulsed, like something alive was breathing beneath the surface.


    Malik felt... small.


    A frog in an ocean.


    He had no idea where he was.


    He had no idea how to get out.


    And worst of all¡ª


    He wasn''t alone.


    Turning around, he noticed them.


    Rows of statues.


    Their forms were... elegant? If that was ever possible. Yet still unnerving.


    Stone women with wings, their faces serene, their hands reaching towards... him.


    Some were posed as if mid-step, others mid-flight. But none moved. Not an inch.


    Malik swallowed hard and continued to stare at them.


    He quickly noticed something peculiar. Though everything about them was paused, tiny stones dripped from their eyes, mimicking actual tears.


    "Angels... crying angels? Are they really monsters?"


    Malik stepped closer, slowly, and stopped directly before one of them.


    He raised his right hand and waved it in front of its face.


    "Hello?"


    "..."


    No reaction.


    Frowning, he touched the cold stone surface.


    Solid. Unmoving.


    ''Just statues, then.''


    Malik looked away, heading in the other direction.


    ''Nothing to worry about¡ª''


    Grk...


    Cutting off his thoughts was a sound. A faint shift in the air.


    His body roared, and he twisted, dodging by instinct alone.


    Whoosh!


    A fist cut through the air where he had just been.


    A stone fist.


    ''Holy shit!''


    If he hadn''t moved, that thing would''ve caved his skull in.


    His heart pounded as he jumped back, eyes darting towards the same statue he touched, the owner of the fist that nearly killed him.


    It was motionless.


    ''Did it attack me because I touched it or...''


    He looked at the others, noticing that they had moved as well.


    Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire


    ''No. They move if I don''t look at them... damn bastards.''


    Malik exhaled heavily and backed away slowly, never taking his eyes off them.


    He took careful steps, inching backward and searching for an exit.


    The moment he turned his head¡ªeven slightly¡ªhe heard the faintest whisper of stone grinding against stone.


    Nope. These angels were too fast for him to handle; he couldn''t even nce at where he was going; all his attention needed to be on them if he wanted to survive.


    And so, he kept his gaze locked, his steps picking up pace as he got used to walking blind.


    Eventually, he felt the cavern shift around him, the tunnel widening.


    Then, he stepped out¡ªsomewhere¡ªhis right footnding on smooth stone.


    He blinked. Took a breath. Turned on his heel and dashed out of the cavern.


    But there was nowhere to go... nowhere he could escape.


    Malik stopped, chest rising and falling, taking in the new space.


    An arena. A massive, circr pit carved into the cavern itself.


    The walls stretched high, impossibly high, covered in carvings¡ªold, intricate, probably telling some story only schrs or nobles would know.


    It was ancient, untouched, the sheer size of it making him feel like an insect, not even a frog.


    And then, he noticed it.


    At the far end of the arena.


    A cross.


    Huge. Weathered. Stone, maybe. Or something tougher. The man nailed to it was bearded, draped in tattered robes. His head hung low. Hands syed. Feet stacked. His face was solemn, peaceful even. Carved in exquisite, unnerving detail¡ªall pristine despite the passage of time.


    Malik''s breath hitched.


    ''What?''


    He blinked, thinking that his eyes were ying tricks on him...


    ''This¡ª''


    But then everything turned wrong. Everything. Ending his thoughts.


    The cross was now upside down.


    The man''s head, once bowed, was now tilted up. Looking straight at him.


    He was grinning. Wide. Stretched too far. Too real.


    Malik''s body locked up. Every nerve screaming, every instinct telling him to run.


    He took a slow step back.


    And then¡ª


    Pain.


    White-hot. Splitting. Unbearable.


    His vision blurred. His bnce shattered. The world tilted¡ªno, spun.


    He fell, hitting the ground. Hard. But his fall was wrong.


    Something was missing... His body. It didn''t follow.


    It wasn''t attached to him anymore.


    His head tumbled across the cold stone, rolling, rolling, until it stopped.


    Malik couldn''t move. He couldn''t scream. He couldn''t do anything but watch.


    And thest thing he saw before everything faded...


    ''Bastard.''


    Was the man''s grin growing wider.


    Blink.

 Chapter 97 Having Fun II

    The guard scoffed.


    "Fuck off. And I''m not your ''mate,'' so¡ª"


    "Alright, buddy."


    "I''m not your ''buddy'' either."


    "Alright, brother."


    "I''m not your ''brother'' either."


    "Alright, little guy."


    "I ain''t your ''little guy.''"


    "Alright, little bro."


    "I ain''t your ''little bro.''"


    "Alright, little girl."


    "Whatever... ''little girl.'' I''m not your little girl."


    "Alright, bitchface."


    "KEEP THIS SHIT UP AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS."


    "Alright, big strong ugly-looking man."


    "KEEP THIS SHIT UP AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS."


    "Alright, cool guy."


    "KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT BEFORE I FUCKING KILL YOU!"


    "So you won''t get me out?"


    Bang!


    The guard mmed his foot into the ground, leaving a dent in the dirt.


    "Yes, yes, I''ll get you out, alright?! But in a fucking body bag, do you understand?!"


    Malik revealed a mocking grin, victorious.


    "Alright. I''ll have my associates send the moneyter."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Ahahahahahah!"


    For a few incredibly rare seconds, the hall was bursting withughter. Even those still sobbing couldn''t help but let out a few chuckles of their own.


    It seemed that even after all that happened to him, Malik still had his fun personality hidden deep within, only with the added benefit of it being a tad bit insane.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The angry guard''s assistant sighed and waved them through.


    Cassim, who held tighter on Malik''s chains, shoved him forward.


    "Stop giving us trouble."


    They stepped onto the air vent, and the Aether surged, the wind howling, lifting them.


    Unlike the other one, this didn''t feel oppressive. It felt good. Great even.


    And most importantly, there was no darkness.


    Or rather, there might''ve been, but he simply moved too fast to notice.


    One moment, he stepped into the air, and then...


    ''Ha... I''m back.''@@novelbin@@


    For the first time in what felt like forever, Malik saw the outside world again, though he barely made out anything, squinting against the Shams'' blinding light.


    Up here, it was hot, but not to the level of the Southern Edge, dry but also humid, carrying the scent of shit and sweat.


    It was far too open, quite unlike the confined box of biomes he was in... he hated it. But it was home.


    ''Home sweet home.''


    But he didn''t get to relish in that feeling for long.


    "C''mon, keep moving."


    Cassim pulled him forward, leading them through the crowd until they reached what could only be described as a checkpoint¡ªa ce where merchants, travelers, and criminals alike were sorted like livestock.


    There, booths, old stone pirs, and banners disying royal insignias surrounded a central za.


    It was where long lines of people waited their turn to be processed.


    Malik barely had a second to get his bearings before they shoved him toward one of the many booths, a cramped little thing with a grizzled old man hunched over a wooden desk.


    "Name?"


    The man barely nced up as he dipped a quill into ink and began scribbling on parchment.


    "Malik."


    "Father''s name?"


    "..."


    Silence.


    The old man raised a brow, ncing at Cassim.


    He scoffed.


    "Bastard. Father unknown."


    "Mother''s name?"


    A pause. Malik''s jaw tightened, but he answered:


    "Mariam."


    "Family name?"


    Another pause.


    He had never needed to say it before.


    It almost felt foreign on his tongue.


    "Al-Zayni."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Nearly the entire hall turned to the floating throne, asking a silent question.


    Its owner gave them no answer.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    That name made the old man stop writing.


    His sunken eyes flicked up, studying Malik with newfound scrutiny.


    "Al-Zayni? As in the Al-Zayni family? Al-Ayan''s family branch?"


    "..."


    Malik just stared at him.


    The man hummed and kept writing.


    "Age?"


    "Thirteen... I think."


    "upation?"


    One of the officers chuckled.


    "Beggar."


    The old man nodded as if that made perfect sense.


    He continued listing details¡ªheight, weight, build, eye color¡ªuntil he got to the good part.


    "Crimes?"


    Cassim didn''t even hesitate.


    "Destruction of awful ve ring. Murder of twenty-five people."


    The old man nodded, unfazed, jotting it down with the same bored efficiency.


    "Twenty-six... make it twenty-six."


    He corrected, his frown deepening.


    "He doesn''t admit it, but I believe he killed a ve."


    That made the old man look up again.


    His eyes darted between the officer and Malik, as if he was debating whether that was a joke.


    When no oneughed, he simply nodded and kept writing.


    Malik said nothing. He didn''t defend himself. Didn''t exin. It didn''t matter.


    The man finished, stamped something on the parchment, and waved them through. Stay updated with My Virtual Library Empire


    "Next."


    "Thank you."


    Cassem dragged him forward, toward the stables not so far away.


    Malik, meanwhile, was lost in his own world.


    A bastard. A beggar. A criminal.


    His mother''s name¡ªher noble blood¡ªmeant nothing.


    He had no ties, no safety. He was worth less than the dirt beneath their feet.


    A deep, hollow feeling settled in his stomach, making him remember his promise.


    ''The world will know my name... huh? So much for that.''


    In no more than a minute, they reached the stables.


    They stood outside just for a few seconds before a creature stepped out the doors.


    It looked like a domesticated animal¡ªbut not quite.


    Three humps were on its back, supported by legs as wide as the average man, its skin covered in a patchy mix of fur and scales.


    A massive, reinforced carriage sat strapped to it, swaying slightly as the beast shifted.


    The other officers stepped forward, but before they could get him inside, Cassim pointed a curved sword at him.


    "If you don''t behave in there, we''ll have to hurt you. So don''t give us the chance."


    Malik looked at the de, unimpressed.


    "You know I don''t appreciate a cute little knife being pointed at me."


    The officer sighed, unsheathed his de, and shoved him forward.


    "Just move it."


    They, with the exception of their designated driver, stepped inside the carriage.


    It was dark, the only lighting from small, tted openings.


    The air smelled of leather, hay, and something sickly sweet.


    Malik settled himself, shifting his arms in their bindings.


    "We''re moving now!"


    With that, the steed began to move, pulling the carriage along.


    Malik nced at the youngest guard¡ªthe one who hadn''t said much.


    He looked nervous. New... perfect.


    "These chains are really tight, you know? Mind loosening them up for me a little?"


    "..."


    The younger officer hesitated and looked at him weirdly, not offering a reply.


    "This''ll take hours, you know?... Help a beggar out."


    "..."


    "C''mon. I didn''t resist so far, so why would I now?"


    At Malik''s unending urging, he looked left, looked right.


    None of the others paid him or Malik any mind.


    The boy had to make a choice by himself.


    And he made a choice... A bad one. Bringing his arms forward.


    "No! Do¡ª"


    The moment he touched the chains, ckening them, Malik moved. Fast.


    Before anyone could react, he lunged at Cassim, snapping his loosened chains around his neck.


    A sharp twist¡ªCrack. His neck broke and his body slumped.


    The others barely had time to draw their weapons before he spun, ready to take down the next¡ª


    Fweeeet!


    But then a spike of sand punched straight through his skull.


    Malik''s body jerked. Fell. Then darkness took over.


    Deep, endless darkness.


    Blink.

 Chapter 98 Act Crazy

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Silence.


    Not the usual silence of horror, shock, or disbelief. Just... understanding.


    The kind that settled in deep, like dust on an old book no one bothered to clean.


    And then someone let out a breath.


    "Even he... even he couldn''t take it anymore... huh?"


    No one answered. No one needed to. It was obvious.


    It wasn''t a surprise. It wasn''t some grand revtion. It was inevitable.


    After everything¡ªafter the endless blinks, the blood, the loss, the cycle of suffering and fighting of dying anding back¡ªof course he snapped.


    Of course, he went for the kill the moment he got the chance.


    Of course, Malik yed the game on his own terms.


    yed the only game he could, where he finally didn''t just react to things but initiated them.


    And none of them, not a single one, could judge him for it. Not even the "hero."


    Because if it were them?


    If they''d been trapped like he was?


    If they''d been put through that Hell?


    They would''ve done the same.


    Most of them, anyway.


    "He really tried."


    Someone muttered, voice hoarse.


    "He really, really tried to keep it together."


    "Did he, though?"


    Another scoffed, shaking their head.


    "I mean¡­ was he ever really ''together'' to begin with?"


    "Like you wouldn''t have done the same."


    "Of course, I would''ve! That''s the point."


    "If we had a time loop to abuse, we''d be having all kinds of fun, wouldn''t we?"


    A few chuckled darkly... He wasn''t wrong.


    "But the Sultan? His ''fun'' was killing his captors. Again. And again. And again. I''m sure what we''ve seen is only what he bothered to remember."


    No oneughed that time.


    Huda, who was on the ground, leaning her side on Crimson, had her hands clenched in herp, trembling.


    She wasn''t crying. No, that would''ve been easier. But she looked like she wanted to. Like something inside her had cracked so deep she couldn''t even begin to patch it up.


    Crimson appeared in a simr state, his beak clicking softly. Slow. Sharp.


    His feathers fluffed and then settled repeatedly. He didn''t blink. He just stared.


    Safira had turned away, arms wrapped around herself, her jaw tight enough to break teeth. She hadn''t said a word since it hadst resumed. Probably wouldn''t for a while.


    La, though¡­ she looked lost. Like she was still trying to process it. Like she''d been waiting for Malik toe out swinging, but now that he had¡ªnow that he''d done it¡ªshe wasn''t sure how to feel about it.


    "I would''ve done worse."


    No one turned to see who had spoken.


    But they all knew¡ªit had to be Azeem.


    And most of them agreed¡­ they might have done worse.


    The projection hadn''t shown a man unraveling, losing control.


    It hadn''t captured some violent, frenzied descent into madness.


    No, it showed something far more haunting.


    It showed a man who fought to keep himself sane.


    A man who held himself together, piece by fragile piece, until there was nothing left to hold.


    And that¡­


    That was the most terrifying thing of all.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik wasn''t perfect.


    He wasn''t always kind.


    He wasn''t always wise.


    He wasn''t always right.


    He wasn''t always good.


    He wasn''t always patient.


    He wasn''t always merciful.


    He wasn''t always calm.


    He wasn''t always brave.


    He wasn''t always strong.


    He wasn''t always honest.


    He wasn''t always careful.


    He wasn''t always selfless.


    His actions in those lives held no meaning.


    Done only to let out frustration, nothing more.


    And yet, he never felt more alive than in those moments.


    Going feral yet facing none of the consequences.


    ''I guess that''s one good thing about the curse.''


    Sure, his "checkpoint" could''ve been updated just after he killed one of the officers.


    It would''ve ruined his life more than it already was. And yet... he didn''t seem to care.


    Such a thought didn''t even enter his mind.


    He needed this.


    Blink.


    "Don''t resist, kid; we don''t wanna rough you up too much."


    Malik looked at Cassim and nodded.


    He had enough fun.


    It was time to get this over with.


    ...


    Malik walked through the streets, his boots clicking against the well-maintained stone roads.


    This wasn''t Zawaya. No leaning limestone buildings, no filth coating the ground, no constant scent of sweat, shit, and desperation in the air.


    This ce?


    It was¡­ decent.


    Hell, it was more than decent.


    The buildings were sturdy, clean, even had bits of gold and silver trimming here and there.


    People dressed too well. They had that noble stiffness to them, backs straight, noses slightly raised.


    Yet that didn''t mean their manners were any better.


    He saw a woman clutch her child''s wrist and pull him away as he passed.


    Arguably, they were worse... Yeah. He wasn''t any more wee here than when he was back in his lovely hometown.


    "What vige is this?"


    Malik asked, eyes scanning the strange symbols carved into the stone archways above.


    One of the officers to his right scoffed.


    "This ain''t no ''vige,'' boy. It''s a town, one of the many in the Holy Kingdom. The capital of Markaz."


    He nodded, absorbing the information.@@novelbin@@


    ''Markaz, huh?''


    Though he didn''t listen much, if at all when he was taught geography by his old man, he knew bits and pieces.


    Markaz, as the man called it, was also known as the Inside, as opposed to the Outskirts, the Dawahi.


    There was only one major difference between the two.


    One surrounded Al-Fawra while the other didn''t.


    It was as simple as that.


    And now, he was in the capital of it, and filled with stuck-up bastards that needed to be smacked down a peg or two.


    Malik would''ve done so if he could, but all he was able to do was walk.


    So... he kept walking, shoulders squared, chin up, even as he was pushed around by ten fuckers, each one trying to show off a little to their friends.


    People stared, whispering behind their hands, gawking like he was some wild animal being paraded through their perfect little town.


    That wouldn''t be so far from the truth, though not in a bad way, as despite his injuries, Malik kept up with his act, strutting around like a lion amongst men, not letting them see him stutter.


    If they thought he was going to kneel for them, they had no idea who they were dealing with.


    That day would not be repeated. Never.


    Eventually, they reached a massive building¡ªtall, with towers that loomed over the surrounding streets.


    Unlike the churches, mosques, and temples he saw, this ce had a different kind of authority to it.


    The Faraja Station.


    Or as the sign above the entrance read in bold golden letters:


    {Istgah Faraja: The Bastion of Divine Order}


    Quite a long and fancy name for a glorified dungeon.


    After a few nods and greetings, they entered, and the officers at the reception barely looked up as Malik was dragged through the halls.


    They passed by offices, rooms filled with officials, or as the nametes called them, {Bureaucrat}, too busy with their paperwork to acknowledge anyone.


    Then, the scent shifted¡ªmusty, damp, metallic.


    They were heading downstairs.


    To the cells. The dungeon.


    Even now, Malik didn''t resist. Not even a sound as they reached what would be his home for the rest of his long life.


    He appeared to have epted this ouepletely.


    "Now stay in there until we call you."


    Cassim pushed him in, causing Malik to stumble for a step, only to stabilize in the next.


    ng!


    The metal cell door mmed shut behind him, cementing his fate, and again, he didn''t appear to be bothered by that.


    What bothered him, though, was that those fuckers didn''t even unlock his chains.


    Malik turned to their leader and stared at him, deadpan.


    "Hey, Cassim."


    His head snapped towards him, surprise apparent on his face.


    "H-How do you¡ª"


    "Shut."


    Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire


    Cutting him off, slowly, he raised his bound hands and raised his middle fingers.


    "Fuck. You."


    Clutching his right fist, Cassim barely held himself back fromshing out and walked away.


    "That''s what I thought."


    Malik leaned back against the cold stone wall, letting out a slow breath.


    This... all of this... it was funny really.


    He had never been stronger than he was now.


    Faster. Sharper. More dangerous than ever before.


    And yet, right now, he was at his lowest. The lowest he had ever been.


    Malik stared at the ceiling, mind sinking into ces he didn''t want to go.


    And then...


    "Act crazy."


    A whisper.


    Soft. Lingering.


    Right against his ear.


    He froze.


    For a second, he thought he imagined it.


    That maybe the exhaustion was finally making him hear shit.


    Then it came again.


    "Act crazy."


    Malik didn''t react. Just kept his eyes on the ceiling, mind racing.


    Someone was trying to get him out.


    That much was obvious. The question was¡ªwho? And why?


    He had no allies in this ce. No friends. No family.


    And yet, here he was.


    Hearing voices in the dark.


    Well.


    If they wanted a show¡­


    Malik could y crazy.

 Chapter 99 {100,000}

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Oh, this is gold~."


    "Hah! Look at ''em! Acting all high and mighty without knowing a damn thing."


    "You think those nobles ever thought about this momentter?"


    Many in the crowd enjoyed themselves, musing about.


    "Imagine realizing youughed at the Sultan while he was locked up like somemon criminal."


    "Pfft. They probably acted like it never happened. Most of you nobles have a way of rewriting history when it doesn''t suit you."


    "Still, I bet they felt stupidter and maybe regretful, thinking they''d lost out on the best investment of their lives."


    "Doubt they''d even lived that long to see it."


    "True. And knowing him? If any of those bastards were still breathing when he got his throne, he probably paid ''em a little visit."


    At that,ughter rippled through the hall, though not for long, as another topic of conversation was brought up.


    "Watch the way he flipped them off!"


    Another pointed at the projection.


    "That officer¡ªwhat was his name? Cassim? Haha! He looked ready to explode!"


    Even the ones who hated Malik had to admit¡ªthe man had balls. Massive ones.


    That or he just didn''t give a shit about the consequences.


    Most of them would say both.


    "And it turns out some guy saved him."


    "Yeah, if the Sultan followed his advice, they might''ve decreased his sentence or pardoned him outright."


    "Can''t see that happening... but who knows? I can''t guess what he''ll do next."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik sat in his cell for hours, the silence stretching, the stone walls pressing in.


    That whisper¡­ Had it been real? Or just his mind screwing with him again?


    Didn''t matter. Real or not, it was an option. And if it was a trick, well, it wouldn''t have been the first his mind had yed on him. Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire


    Sinbad and Jasmine sat just outside the cage, staring him down.


    They didn''t speak. Didn''t move. Just sat there, watching.


    Malik sighed, rubbing his eyes. But when he looked again, they were still there.


    No matter how many times he tried to shake them off, they wouldn''t leave.


    But then¡ªfootsteps. Heavy ones... And just like that, the two were gone.


    It was an unfamiliar male officer, his keys jingling as he unlocked the door.


    "Get up. An Inquisitor is free to judge you."


    Malik rolled his shoulders and stood, letting the officer drag him out.


    He was pulled along through the halls, past the same desks, the same uninterested bureaucrats, until they reached an office.


    Inside sat an average-looking man dressed in deep red, quite a contrast to the blue of the regr officers.


    He had sharp eyes, a face worn by years of experience, yet not a wrinkle of hesitation.


    Behind him, a few men and women lounged in the corner, observing.


    The Inquisitor leaned forward, hands sped.


    "Sit."


    Malik sat.


    "Do you know who I am?"


    "...No, but I bet you''ll tell me."


    He chuckled and introduced himself:


    "I am Inquisitor Khamal. The one appointed to be in charge of your trial."


    Khamal gestured to the ones in the corner.


    "These people will be helping judge your case, making sure it''s¡­ fair."


    Malik raised a brow.


    "Fair? That''s new."


    Khamal smirked.


    "Introduce yourself."


    Malik nced at them; they didn''t look like much, just some noble brats.


    "I am the one whose mother called Malik. The son of a bastard. The Ward of¡ª" He returned his gaze to Khamal, "Mahdi. A child of Al-Zayni."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The room was quiet, but not because anyone was particrly shocked. The name didn''t really mean much to them¡ªjust another old-world relic, something that might''ve been significant once but had long lost its weight.


    Sure, there was a bit of irony in it. Malik, the Sultan who painted history in blood, being the ward of some guy whose name basically meant "the end"? Yeah, that was kind of funny. But that was all it was. A passing thought. Nothing worth dwelling on.


    Except for Noor.


    Noor, who had been sitting there all calm andposed, now looked like she was about to snap her throne''s armrests in half.


    ''I knew it!''


    That wasn''t just some random name.


    It belonged to a Kahya who once worked in one of her family''s estates.


    Right, Malik''s guardian was one of her own.


    She sucked in a sharp breath, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral, but inside?


    Noor was on fire.


    ''That bastard was after me since the beginning!''


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    A few of them shifted. Some cleared their throats.


    They hadn''t expected that level of confidence. Of sharpness. From a beggar. From a supposed child, even though he looked nothing like one.


    "Good."


    Khamal nodded.


    "Then let''s get to it."


    He unfolded a scroll and read aloud.


    "You stand used of the murder of twenty-six individuals and the destruction of awful ve ring, halting its operations for days and causing financial losses to the owner."


    He set it down and met Malik''s gaze.


    "What is your defense?"


    Malik sat there, silent.


    ''Act crazy.''


    The whisper shed in his mind.


    ''No... Fuck that.''


    He had ideals and he stuck to them no matter what.


    "I''m guilty of all you listed. I did itpletely sane and in cold blood."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Silence.


    The nobles in the corner stared at him, wide-eyed.


    Malik nced at them.


    "What? You think it''s wrong? Maybe¡­ but I don''t care."


    One of them inhaled sharply.


    "You know... those vers I killed? All of twenty-five of them?"


    There was a shift in the room.


    "Know that I''d do it again if I had the chance."


    The tension grew thick.


    "I did it because I liked it... fuck, I loved it."


    Gasps resounded a second time, and he pulled hard on his chains.


    "You don''t understand¡­ Shit ain''t quick. The kidney''s deep. You hit it, and it doesn''t just kill them. Nah¡­ it just¡ªit just bleeds. Sure, their bodies gave out in a second. Dropped like fucking rocks. But their minds?"


    He let out a breathy chuckle.


    "Oh, their minds felt every second. Every Goddamn moment dragged out forever. Seconds stretched into minutes. Minutes? Might as well have been hours. Time just¡­ slowed. Crawled. Every heartbeat, every breath, every pulse of pain¡ªit was all they knew. Burning them up from the inside, setting their guts on fire."


    At that point, they had no clue if he was talking about the vers or some messed-up shit that happened to him.


    "They couldn''t move. Couldn''t scream. Just stuck there, feeling it, knowing exactly what was happening but not able to do a damn thing about it."


    Malik tilted his head, cracking it.


    "They tried to scream, but their voices¡ªshut. Weak. Because they''re choking on their own fucking blood, their necks cut."


    The room was dead silent.


    His golden eyes turned to Khamal.


    "There''s nothing to defend... I''m guilty. I''m dying to do it again."


    A pause. An incredibly long pause.


    No one in the room knew how to react to this.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Neither did anyone outside, seeing just how unhinged Malik truly was.


    ...They were just speechless. All of them without exception.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Khamal sighed, rubbing his temple.


    "...Well, I told him to act crazy."


    Malik''s brow twitched.


    "What was that?"


    "Oh, nothing."


    Khamal leaned back, tapping a finger against the desk.


    "Tell me, why didn''t you just save the ves? Forgive them?"


    Malik shook his head.


    "Forgiveness is between them and their God. My job is only to arrange the meeting."


    A woman in the corner raised a hand, wanting to speak.


    Khamal nodded at her and she stood, arms crossed.


    "I-Ignoring how insane you are... I get it. You''re trying to be a hero. very is bad, at least the way it''s being done right now, no one can deny that. But now that you killed them, what makes you different? Aren''t you just a psychotic killer?"


    Malik gave her a long look, then sighed.


    "Seriously? That''s the best you got? If you think killing them makes me the same as them or worse, then you seriously need to do some thinking. Now sit back down before you embarrass yourself any further."


    She scowled, ready to retort, but Khamal raised a hand.


    "Sit."


    Gritting her teeth, she obeyed.


    Khamal then reached under his desk and ced a small object on top.


    "This is a lie detector. I''m sure I don''t need to exin what it does."


    He met Malik''s gaze.


    "I need to ask you a few questions. Will you answer them truthfully?"


    Malik leaned forward slightly.


    "Yes."


    The device glowed green.


    "Good. Have you killed a human before?"


    "Yes, but only two. The rest were filth."


    The light didn''t change.


    Khamal''s eyes narrowed slightly.


    "Huh¡­ You actually believe that. You really don''t see them as human."


    "I don''t."


    Khamal studied him for a moment before nodding.


    "This won''t work then."


    He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small ring.


    Then, he gestured to a guard, who took it and slipped it onto Malik''s finger.


    Malik didn''t react, just waited.


    Then suddenly, a projection flickered to life above the ring.


    {100,000}


    It disyed a number bright enough for all to see.@@novelbin@@


    Gasps filled the room, louder than any before it.


    "Y-You''ve killed a hundred thousand?!"


    Malik blinked.


    ''...What? Ah... wait. I understand.''


    He scanned their faces, and slowly... he grinned.


    "Opps~."


    Khamal''s fist crashed down on his desk.


    "GET HIM BACK TO HIS CELL NOW!"

 Chapter 100 Silent Crescent

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The moment the number popped up, nearly the entirety of the hall lost its mind.


    "A hundred thousand?!"


    "He''s lying, right? That has to be broken."


    "It''s a Holy Relic, idiot. It doesn''t ''break.''"


    "Oh... ohhhhhh."


    They all stared at the projection, watching as Malik tilted his head at the glowing number hovering above his hand, then casually grinned like he''d just knocked over a merchant''s stall and found it funny.


    "Even though it''s undeniable... I still can''t believe it."


    "The Sultan really offed himself that many times."


    "A hundred thousand deaths... just to get here."


    That number wasn''t just terrifying. It was ridiculous.


    A whole new level of what the fuck.


    And worst of all? Malik didn''t even seem to be bothered by it.


    Rather, he appeared to find the number a little less than he expected.


    ...Perhaps it truly was broken.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik leaned against the cold wall of his cell, staring at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting back to that moment.


    The sheer panic on their faces when the number appeared¡ªit was hrious.


    He hadn''t even done anything, not really.


    It was just a cruel joke from whatever divine force was watching over him.


    Apparently, his subconscious considered every single time he killed himself, every blink, and every failure that led to his own death to be murder.


    Malik let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head.


    He didn''t even know what to think about that.


    Did it really count? If he was dying, but resetting, was it even death?


    ''...Whatever.''


    He exhaled, closing his eyes, letting exhaustion pull him under.


    Sleep didn''tst long, though.


    Footsteps approached, stopping right in front of his cell.


    Malik opened one eye, gaze flicking to the cloaked figure standing before him.


    The man wore a scarf wrapped around his head, covering most of his face, revealing only a familiar pair of dark eyes.


    "Make a choice, Malik. Stay here and die... or escape with me."


    His voice was familiar as well. And because of that, Malik didn''t hesitate.


    He pushed himself up, stepping close without a second thought.


    "Get me out."


    The man nodded, pulling out a key.@@novelbin@@


    The lock clicked open, and the door swung wide.


    "Let''s go."


    He led them away and gestured for Malik to follow.


    "What about the others?"


    Malik looked at his neighbors, who he had barely heard a peep from sinceing here.


    "Criminals belong in prison."


    At that almost instant answer, he nodded and quickly followed along before one of them could wake up.


    The halls of the Bastion, both under and above ground, were eerily quiet.


    Night had settled, and the guards were sparse. Still, they moved cautiously, from shadow to shadow, ducking behind pirs and pressing themselves against walls to avoid detection.


    One or two times, a patrol came close, forcing them to wait, holding their breath until the moment passed.


    Eventually, they slipped outside, cutting through a narrow alley, and stopped in front of what looked like a garbage dump.


    The cloaked man brushed aside a pile of waste, revealing the ground beneath.


    He tapped his foot three times, and just like that, the ground shattered¡ªno, an illusion did, revealing a trapdoor.


    Malik arched a brow.


    "A hideout under trash? Really?"


    The figure chuckled.


    "No one around here would dare go near garbage. It''s the perfect bodyguard."


    With that, he opened the hatch, descending thedder first.


    Malik followed,nding on solid ground below.


    Down there, the air was damp but surprisingly not unpleasant.


    A singlentern flickered, casting a dim light over a tunnel leading deeper underground.


    The man turned to him.


    "Son of Mariam¡­ We, Banu Sasan, wee you to the Silent Crescent. Or as known in the old tongue, Al-Hl Al-Samit."


    He reached for the key to remove Malik''s chains, but before he could even lift a hand, Malik simply snapped them apart.


    "Thanks for the warm wee."


    The man blinked.


    "You could always do that?"


    "No."


    Malik flexed his wrists.


    "I just melted them a little with my fire on the down low. Couldn''t just put everything up to chance..."


    His words paused for a moment as he shuddered, imagining a future where he was in a loop just before his hanging, repeating it endlessly.


    "Now, enough about that."


    He looked the man dead in the eyes.


    "Khamal, why did you break me out?"


    Unsurprised, Khamal pulled back his hood, unwrapping the scarf.


    "Well, you don''t have the face of a killer and Holy Relics aren''t perfect. I don''t know what misunderstanding your mind has, but I''m sure it''s amazing."


    Malik let out a soft chuckle.


    "Thank you again."


    "Don''t mention it."


    Khamal gestured for him to follow.


    "Let me introduce you to the others."


    They reached the other end of the tunnel and entered another room,rger, filled with crates and makeshift furniture.


    It was a decent-looking ce, especially so when considering how deep underground they were.


    "Intruder!"


    But before Malik could take in the details, a figure lunged at him, swinging a fist toward his face.


    Clicking his tongue, he sidestepped and caught the attacker by the wrist.


    With a twist, he sent them crashing to the ground, screaming out for life:


    "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"


    In an instant, Malik was on top of the figure, a hand wrapped around his throat, shutting him up.


    "You scream like a girl."


    He turned to Khamal.


    "Should I kill him?"


    Wiping a hand down his face, Khamal sighed.


    "Please don''t."


    He nodded, released his grip, stood up, and dusted himself off.


    Meanwhile, his attacker coughed, struggling to rise.


    "So?"


    After a second of silence, Malik crossed his arms.


    "Who is he?"


    Khamal, rubbing his temple, looked at the man still on the ground wheezing, trying to catch his breath, and then answered:


    "This is the son of a wealthy noble. Trying to make a change."


    Malik raised a brow.


    "So a golden spoon and a young master. Great."


    The young man finally managed to stand, wobbling slightly before lowering his head.


    "I-I''m sorry! I didn''t know you were a new member! I swear I''llpensate you for this!"


    Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire


    Malik studied him for a moment before nodding.


    "I''m not a new member, but sure. Let me get mypensation now."


    "H-Huh?"


    The noble barely had time to blink before Malik''s fist crashed into his face.


    Hard. Bone met flesh. His head snapped back, blood already spilling from his nose.


    "Don''t fight back."


    Another punch.


    A sickening crunch.


    Another.


    Then another.


    And another.


    Malik didn''t stop.


    He buried his knuckles into the noble''s face over and over, turning it into a ruined mess of blood and swelling.


    The once-noble-looking young man nowy on the ground, barely conscious, barely breathing.


    Malik exhaled sharply, flexing his fingers, rubbing blood off his knuckles.


    Finally, he turned.


    Khamal and the others just stared.


    Eyes wide. Mouths slightly open.


    Malik''s expression? nk.


    Like he had just swatted a fly.


    "Now..."


    He rolled his shoulders, shook out his hands, then looked them dead in the eyes.


    "Let''s talk."

 Chapter 101 Unreliable Narrator

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "¡­Okay, can we talk about what the fuck the Sultan just did?"


    "I mean, are we even surprised at this point?"


    "He literally had ''100,000'' floating above his hand just a bit ago."


    "Now that he''s upstairs, interacting with normal people, we can see how warped he became."


    "Yeah, but damn¡­ That was unhinged." Stay updated with My Virtual Library Empire


    "Unhinged? Unhinged is eating dates with a fork. This? This is something else."


    A few snickers broke the tension, but most of the crowd was still focused on the name Malik''s rescuer had spoken.


    The Silent Crescent. Al-Hl Al-Samit.


    "Anyone ever heard of them?"


    A man near the back asked and nced around, but everyone either shook their heads or looked just as lost.


    "No clue. Sounds fancy, though."


    "If none of you know, that means they were either really secretive¡­ or really irrelevant."


    "Could be both. You''d be surprised how many idiots think being mysterious means they''re important."


    At that, several heads turned toward the front of the group¡ªtoward Roya.


    She didn''t react at first, just kept her eyes on the projection, deep in thought.


    Then, with a slight tilt of her head, she acknowledged their silent request.


    "There was¡­ one report."


    That got their attention. People shifted, leaning in.


    "It was during the early days of Malik''s rule. One of the Banu Sasan¡ªdon''t ask me which one, I didn''t care enough to memorize his name¡ªcalled in a favor from him."


    "What kind of favor?"


    Roya smirked.


    "War."


    The room tensed.


    "War? As in a battle? A campaign?"


    She shook her head.


    "No. Just him. He fought alone. One man against an army. One that ironically amounted to a hundred thousand soldiers."


    Silence fell for a moment till someone broke it:


    "¡­And?"


    "Did he win?"


    Roya gave them a pointed look.


    "What do you think?"


    A nervous chuckle spread through the crowd.


    "Hah¡­ Right. He wouldn''t be the Sultan if he lost."


    Someone muttered under their breath:


    "This man¡­ He''s insane."


    "Good job, Captain Obvious."


    Roya corrected, her tone dry:


    "No, he''s right. It isn''t stated enough. He was insane long before he wore the crown."


    They all turned back to the projection as it flickered once more, waiting to see just how much crazier things were about to get.


    Huda, Crimson, Safira, La, and Azeem? Yeah, just like Noor and Zafar, they didn''t really react.


    Not for the same reasons, obviously, but there was no need to spell that out.


    It was written all over them¡ªthey''d never looked worse.


    Right. All five. Even Azeem.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Khamal sighed, shaking his head. Then, without a word, he fished a silver coin out of the pouch in his belt and tossed it to one of the girls behind him.


    She let out a delighted squeal before rushing over to the young master, her hands glowing as she worked on fixing his battered face.


    "We''re a ragtag group wanting to make a change."


    He gestured around.


    "That money-hungry healer over there is a priest from Temr. ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª The other girl behind me is a noble''s secretary. She''s ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª And these two guys?"@@novelbin@@


    He pointed at two scruffy-looking men leaning against a crate.


    "¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª and ¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª¡ª. Some pitiful handymen who identally stumbled in here."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "What the fuck is going on with the names?!"


    "Yeah... They''re glitching out, like¡ªlike radar static!"


    "Shit, don''t tell me the relic is¡ª"


    "Stop right there."


    A familiar old man cut off the questioning dumbasses before they could say something they''d regret. Making most of those around him turn to face him, waiting for an exnation.


    "Ain''t it obvious?"


    His eyes returned to the projection.


    "The Sultan doesn''t remember them."


    "....Huh. Ah. Actually, yeah. That makes sense."


    "Wait, doesn''t that make him an unreliable narrator?"


    He chuckled at the young Magi.


    "Aren''t we all?"


    A scarred woman nodded.


    "This means everything we''ve seen so far was biased. Twisted through his perspective, whether he meant to or not."


    "Maybe not twisted."


    A bearded man interjected, hesitant.


    "Just... iplete."


    He and the old man went back and forth:


    "Iplete or not, it''s still his story."


    "Right, and stories warp depending on the one telling them."


    "True... even for us, memories aren''t perfect. The Holy Relic is showing all of what he can remember."


    "Or what he wants to."


    That statement lingered in the air, a truth that no one could confidently refute.


    "If that''s the case..."


    The scarred woman finally sighed, rubbing her temples.


    "Things are only gonna get more fragmented, aren''t they?"


    The old man nodded at her, his expression grim.


    "Unfortunantly... Yes, it''s only going to get worse."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik scoffed, wiping thest traces of blood off his knuckles.


    "Turns out trash isn''t the best bodyguard after all."


    "Details, details~."


    Khamal waved off with a grin and sat down, his grin easy but his words sharp:


    "Look, we''re not here to flip the whole damn table over. Too much work, too much blood, and frankly¡ª" he tapped his neck, "¡ªI like my head exactly where it is."


    The noble''s secretary, an older woman with ink-stained fingers and a sharp gaze, sighed.


    "And here I thought I joined a group of visionaries. Turns out, you''re justzy~."


    "Smart, actually."


    Khamal corrected, shing a grin.


    "The way I see it, we move the right pieces, push the right people, and sooner orter, the whole board shifts without them even realizing it. That''s how you change things. Not by screaming, not by swinging swords like an idiot, but by making sure the next time those in power reach for their cup, they''re drinking out of the one we filled."


    The priestess snorted, still working on the young master''s swollen face.


    "And what happens when they realize they''ve been drinking poison?"


    Khamal shrugged.


    "That''s what we have you for, Priestess. When we get stabbed, you fix us up."


    She shot back, smirking:


    "For a price."


    Khamal wavedzily at her.


    "Naturally."


    One of the two stablehand brothers, a broad-shouldered man with straw still clinging to his tunic, chuckled.


    "Our lot talks big, but we don''t mind. As long as we don''t have to deal with shit ever again, we''re in. And I ain''t gonna lie, the better pay also helps."


    "See? That''s the spirit."


    Khamal smiled at him.


    "Change the world, and get paid while doing it. Everyone wins."


    His wiry brother nodded in agreement.


    "Aye. We''d change the world just to keep away from those fucking steeds."


    He nced at Malik.


    "Seriously, you don''t know just how bad monster shit smells."


    Malik, who had been silently standing so far, looked at them, unimpressed.


    "Is it worse than a sea of rotting corpses?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    The room fell silent.

 Chapter 102 Oh Blessed Civilization

    Khamal blinked. The healer girl stopped mid-motion. Even the secretary, who seemed to be always quick with a snide remark, had nothing to say. The stablehand brothers stared at Malik, then at each other.


    "...Uh."


    The broad-shouldered one muttered.


    "That''s¡­ fair."


    The wiry one swallowed.


    "Yeah. Yeah, alright. You win that one."


    That was it. No one dared to ask for details.


    "R-Right..."


    Khamal cleared his throat as if shaking off the sudden chill in the air.


    "Well. Anyway, the n''s simple¡ªwe work from the inside, little by little, until one day, the people at the top look down and realize they''re standing on nothing."


    Malik nodded.


    "Slow rot. I like it. But do you really believe in all this? That you can actually change anything?"


    Khamal''s smile returned, but there was something sharp beneath it.


    "I believe in the right people being in the right ces at the right time. I believe in cracks spreading through the stone. I believe in¡­ opportunities. And when theye, we''ll be the ones ready to push."


    A groan from the floor interrupted him.


    The young master, face still swollen, raised a trembling hand.


    "¡­Justice."


    Malik raised an eyebrow.


    "What was that, noble boy?"


    "Jushtish..."


    He repeated, his busted lip making it worse.


    The healer giggled.


    "You sure you don''t want me to fix his tongue first?"


    Malik shrugged.


    "Don''t bother. It makes no difference. He barely made sense before I beat his face in."


    "Bah. Stop torturing the poor boy."


    Khamal waved a hand, and the priestess returned to healing him.


    "Okay¡­ Thanks for the introduction and all, but what''s this got to do with me? I''m just some guy who killed a bunch of bastards."


    Malik had his back straight, ready in case... action arose, but Khamal''s widening grin had him pause.


    "You just said it. You massacred vers!"


    He tilted his head.


    "I didn''t do it to be a¡ª"


    "The reason doesn''t matter, my friend! You still did it, and that deserves to be rewarded."


    "You didn''t read the report? I killed a ve too."


    "Maybe you did, maybe you didn''t. I don''t know. But I''m sure there was a reason for it."


    "You''re putting a lot of faith in me here."


    "I am... but eyes don''t lie. And yours look like they''ve been through Hell a hundred thousand times over."


    "¡­Wow. Thanks again, I guess."


    "Don''t mention it¡­ But I do have to ask for a favor."


    Malik rolled his eyes, losing whatever appreciation his face once showed.


    "Of course. My dumbass forgot that nothing was ever free around here."


    "No, no, no, it''s nothing like that."


    Khamal held up his hands.


    "I know you Magi eventually go south to Ascend. All I ask is that, on your way there, keep an eye out for people like us. I''m sure we''re not the only ones trying to make a change. If you find them, help them out¡ªeven if it''s just a few coins. And when you''re done with whatever you''re after,e back here. Tell us who you saw and who ourrades are. It''ll motivate us to keep going. Be something anyone would be proud of. Even you."


    "..."


    Malik was silent for a long moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish.


    He just couldn''t find a reply. Those words... Damn. They astonished him, catching himpletely off guard. They were... pure? Maybe not the right word, but it was the closest he could get to whatever he was feeling.


    "You..."


    To everyone''s surprise, Malik suddenly stepped forward and pulled Khamal into a hug.


    "You are a great man."


    Khamal blinked, now twice as surprised as his new friend just was.


    Then, after a moment, he chuckled, patting Malik''s back.


    "H-Heh¡­ You''d see me blush if I wasn''t ck."


    "I don''t wanna see that."


    "Hahaha! Me neither!"


    As they let go,ughter filled the room, making everyone forget about the young master still groaning on the floor.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "Damn. I kinda like those guys."


    "Yeah, they got a real ''stick it to the bastards'' energy."


    "Ragtag as hell, but they got soul."


    "You mean they got guts."


    "Even though those ''bastards'' they''re against are most of us here, I can''t help but root for them."


    A sixth scoffed.


    "You hear how that Khamal guy talked?"


    "He''s got a silver tongue, better than most of our ambassadors." Find adventures at My Virtual Library Empire


    "Man''s ying chess while everyone else is fumbling with dominoes."


    "And that healer¡ªshe deserves my respect."


    "You just respect her ''cause she''s cute."


    "Listen, good business sense is attractive."


    They all turned to look at the one who said that, a mix of judgment and amusement shing in their eyes.


    "Shameless."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Later, after they had the priestess heal Malik''s injuries and ate dinner, which was mostly just kebabs, Khamal led Malik to a small room tucked away in the hideout.


    It had a bed, a shower, a toilet¡ªeverything he needed.


    "Get some rest."


    Malik exhaled, looking around.


    "Seriously... I don''t know how to even begin repaying you."


    Khamal shook his head.


    "Don''t give back, my friend. Your... charity will only leave us both poorer."


    Malik snickered, shaking his head.


    "Alright."


    As soon as Khamal left, his expression shifted. The ever-present frown on his face had melted away, and what reced it was something close to childlike joy.


    "Gotta be..."


    He rushed into the bathroom, eyes scanning the setup.


    "A bidet?!"


    Humanity was truly magnificent!


    He checked the bath''s water, and when he felt the warmth, he nearly shed a tear.


    Relieving and bathing himself no longer became something he dreaded.


    "...Oh, blessed civilization."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    While aedy routine continued to unfold, at the front, Crimson, Huda, Safira, La, and Azeem had all their attention locked onto the projection.


    They had just seen the most surprising thing since his Return By Death was revealed.


    Malik, who stood there in the candlelight, looked... different.


    Not like the battle-worn, tragic but unbreakable force he faced them as.


    No, in that moment, when he saw that tiny, sacred convenience of civilization, he wasn''t Shaytan''s Devil, the Viin, the Executioner, the Butcher of Bastards.


    He was just¡­ a kid.


    A kid who had been through Hell, seen things no human should ever have to see, done things no human should have to do. And yet, in that tiny, insignificant moment, he looked like someone who had never known hardship a day in his life.


    "Like a child seeing the stars for the first time..."


    Those words left La''s lips before she realized it.


    "...And over a bath. A bath, of all things."


    Azeem chuckled.


    "Hey, don''t underestimate the magic of a good bath. If I went through half the shit he did, I''d be crying over soap, too."


    "No, no, I get it. It just¡­ it reminds you, doesn''t it?"


    She exhaled.


    "Back then... he looked like a man. He acted like a man. But he wasn''t one, not really. He was a kid. A kid who''s died a million times more than anyone should. And somehow, he still stood. Stillughed."


    There was a long silence after that, everyone lost in their own thoughts.


    Then, a younger Magi rubbed his chin and turned toward Roya, the world''s ever-reliable source of information.


    "So, uh¡­ what''s the deal with these guys? Are they still alive? If they were a part of something that big... if Malik helped them back then¡­ does their organization still exist? Or are they just another lost cause in a long line of them?"


    There was a shifting of steps as nearly everyone else turned to Roya, waiting for an answer.


    Even those who had been discussing Malik''s reaction leaned in slightly, curious.


    She tapped her fingers against her arm before shaking her head.


    "I don''t know... my men are still searching the records."


    Roya didn''t say anything after that.


    Instead, she turned slightly, catching the eye of one of her people.


    A silent nod was exchanged, a subtle gesture that did all the talking needed.


    Noor watched the cloaked figure go before turning her attention back to the projection.


    It seemed that she had nothing to add.


    Zafar, meanwhile... was the only one who showed no reaction to what happened whatsoever.


    He just stood there, still as a statue. His eyes weren''t anywhere¡ªjust staring aimlessly, like his soul had drifted somewhere far away.


    Of all people, he was the one most worried about the inevitable "insurrection." Courtesy of Huda. And the others. The "heroines."


    But right now, none of that mattered. Notpared to this.


    Because after everything he had seen¡ªevery memory, every horror¡ªhe was sure of one thing.


    Malik had lost his belief in humanity. He had given up on them, treating people the same way they had treated him his whole miserable life. Like dirt. Like something disposable. A tool.


    But no.@@novelbin@@


    These people¡­ Khamal, especially. They helped him. For free. More or less.


    No grand cause. No deep reason. Just because.


    And Malik¡­ he hugged him.


    That was real. That wasn''t faked. That wasn''t calcted.


    He still believed.


    Humans weren''t all bad.


    So why?


    Why kill? Why betray? Why massacre?


    What happened?


    Or were they all just misunderstandings?


    ''...If that''s true, then I... I wouldn''t know what to do with myself.''

 Chapter 103 Father... I Love You

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Morning came with the kind of crisp air that made Malik almost consider staying in bed a little longer. It was the first time he had the luxury to feel that, but he wasn''t the type toze around, and the road was calling.


    He got up, stretched, and went to take a bath, stripping off his¡ª


    ...


    Malik stared at his reflection in the small mirror, something he hadn''t done in ages.


    The man looking back at him was a stranger. Not just the build¡ªlean muscle where there was once nothing¡ªbut his face too.


    Golden eyes studied him with an intensity he barely recognized. His long golden hair, reaching down to his neck, framed a face that could be called handsome, a world of difference from before.


    He stood a little taller than most, another change, another reminder of how far he''de.


    Fresh clothes, all white. New boots, a sturdy belt, a coin pouch with a few silver jingling inside. Even a curved sword at his hip¡ªjust another in the long list of gifts he''d been given.


    Damn. He seriously couldn''t recognize himself... He almost looked like a noble.


    "Malik!"


    Interrupting his... admiring session? Was Khamal''s scream.


    Not needing to be called twice, Malik made sure he had everything on him and stepped outside his room, meeting Khamal near thedder connected to the trapdoor.


    "You clean up well."


    Khamal nodded at him as he approached.


    "I try... Got a few questions before I go; mind answering them?"


    "No, of course not. Ask away."


    "What can you tell me about the True South?"


    Khamal scratched his chin.


    "It''s¡­ a different world down there. The Holy Kingdom doesn''t hold much sway past a certain point. Lots of independent territories, kingdoms, merchant guilds, and rogue viges. Some ces, you''ll find peace. Others, you''ll find death. Depends on how lucky you are."


    "Sounds about right."


    "There''s a stable near the edge of town. If you''re to find any people heading south, they''ll be there. Join them as a guard; earn your keep."


    Malik nodded.


    "Thanks. For the millionth time."


    He extended a hand.


    Khamal took it with a grin.


    "Don''t make a habit of it."


    With that, Malik turned and left.


    Neither said goodbye, knowing better than to say it.


    ...


    The stables were a damn mess¡ªloud, crowded, and full of people yelling over each other. Merchants loaded up their carts, handlers wrangled stubborn monsters, their hooves ttering against the dirt, wagons creaking under heavy loads, and the whole ce reeked of hay, sweat, and dung.


    "Heading east! Fast travel, cheap fare! Two spots left! Get in while you can!"


    Someone hollered from atop a cart.


    "To the Western empire! Silver coin for an extra de!"


    "Northbound! Need a sword¡ªgood pay!"


    "Anyone headed for the hignds? Got room for a healer!"


    It was chaos, and Malik weaved through it, sidestepping a shouting priestess who was waving her arms to catch attention while he checked one caravan after another.


    "South! Are you going south?!"


    "No¡ªeast, son!"


    Same answer every time¡ªno, not that way, try someone else, sorry, kid.


    His scowl deepened with each rejection.


    But then, as he passed by an old man resting on an upturned crate, the geezer suddenly reached out, grabbing Malik''s sleeve.


    "You a Magi, son?"


    Continue reading at My Virtual Library Empire


    The old man asked, squinting up at him.


    "If you''re on a pilgrimage, best find a n. You go south alone, you''ll wish you hadn''t."


    Malik sighed, offering a quick nod of thanks.


    "Appreciate it, old man, but I don''t have time for safety."


    He pulled away and kept walking, pushing through the crowd.


    This repeated for ten or so minutes, making him extremely frustrated with his luck.


    How could none of these people be going south? Did God really hate him that much?


    But just as he was about to take a break, a dark-skinned man with striking purple hair approached him.


    "Hello, I heard you ask¡ª"


    The guy looked like he was finally about to bring an end to his search, but then he hesitated. His gaze studied Malik''s face¡ªa scowl, furrowed brows¡ªand his face fell.


    "Sorry."


    He closed his mouth and walked past.


    Malik blinked.


    ''The Hell was that?''


    He frowned even harder, wondering what just happened.


    Then it hit him.


    ''Ah... wait.''


    The man must''ve thought he was some sort of racist.


    ''...Stop frowning. They''re normal people... you''re just... seeing things.''


    Letting out a sigh, he rxed his facial features as much as he could and shook his head.


    ''Stop being so fucked in the head and act right.''


    Before the guy could get far, Malik reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and turned him back around.


    "You had something to ask. Ask it."


    The man hesitated, then slowly nodded.


    "Are you looking for work?"


    "Depends. Where you headed?"


    "South."


    Malik''s eyes lit up.


    "Then I''m in. Take me to your caravan. We''ll talk payment."


    The man studied him for a few more seconds, then nodded.


    "I''m Ali Baba."


    "Malik."


    They shook hands.


    "Baba!"


    But before they could take another step, a girl¡ªprobably around Malik''s age¡ªstormed up and nted herself in front of them, hands on her hips.


    "Baba, you don''t need to beg these people! We can manage without them!"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The audience watched in stunned silence.


    "...This... this was how they met?"@@novelbin@@


    "In a stable? Surrounded by monster shit?"


    A quiet chuckle rippled through the group, but it was uneasy.


    Because as they watched, they saw him.


    Ali Baba.


    Her father.


    The one Malik wouldter kill.


    That part, no one said aloud. Only whispered.


    "Shhh! Don''t let her hear!"


    As if they even had to warn anyone.


    Because La wasn''t listening.


    She was gone. Lost in the scene before her.


    Her past self¡ªso young, so angry¡ªstorming up, hands on her hips, snapping at her father.


    "Baba, you don''t need to beg these people! We can manage without them!"


    So stubborn... So her.


    Only now did La understand what Safira and Huda felt after seeing themselves on the projection.


    It was an indescribable feeling.


    God.


    Had she really been that foolish?


    That hotheaded?


    That blind?


    And Malik?


    He had looked at her without a single clue.


    Without a single clue what he would be to her.


    Without a single clue how much she would love him.


    But she saw it now.


    She knew now.


    That was it.


    That was the moment it happened.


    The moment everything changed.


    The moment she... fell.


    Her heart clenched.


    It was the kind of love people scoffed at¡ªlove at first sight.


    But it was real. It had been so real. It would''ve been embarrassing to anyone else, seeing their past self¡ªa blushing, stumbling mess.


    And yet...


    And yet La didn''t care.


    Because he was there too.


    Her father.


    Alive.


    Standing. Breathing. Speaking.


    The way he stood. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way his voice carried through the stable. Like he was still here. Like he had never died.


    "Haa..."


    A sharp breath tore through her, and a hole she had buried deep inside herself ripped open.


    Tears blurred her vision, and she couldn''t stop them.


    "Father¡­"


    Her lips trembled.


    "I love you."


    And the La standing in the present¡ªno longer a girl, no longer that foolish child¡ªbegan to cry, grieving a man who was already dead.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik blinked.


    ''Baba? So she''s his daughter? Damn, he looks too young to be a dad.''


    He gave her a once-over¡ªsame dark skin, same purple hair, same fire in her eyes.


    Then, without a word, he simply walked past her.


    "Let''s go, Sir. We''ve got ces to be."


    She gawked at him, blushing a little, then turned to her father.


    "A-Are you serious? You''re just gonna¡ª"


    Ali Baba sighed, rubbing his temple.


    "La. Please."


    Malik heard the girl huff before she jogged after him.


    "F-Fine. I''ll lead you."


    ...


    The caravan was camped just outside town, sprawled along the paved road.


    Wagons stood in tight rows, people bustled about, preparing for departure, the air thick with the smell of dust, leather, and sizzling meat from cookfires.


    Merchants haggled overst-minute deals, handlers shouted at stubborn steeds, and the whole ce buzzed with energy¡ªcontrolled chaos before the long road ahead.


    La led Malik through the maze of tents and carriages, nodding to familiar faces as they went.


    She then stopped in front of a set of well-decorated tents, the kind that meant wealth, power, or both.


    "We are the One Thousand Nights!"


    Malik raised a brow.


    "Interesting name."


    Ali Baba, who walked behind him, just chuckled.


    "It has meaning. But you''ll have to earn the story."


    "Fair enough."


    La pulled open a tent p, and the three of them stepped inside.


    The air was cooler here, scented with incense.


    A low table sat in the center, surrounded by plush cushions and couches.


    Malik sat down, stretching his legs out, while Ali Baba settled in across from him, adjusting his robes like a man about to getfortable before a good meal.


    And Malik had a feeling he was about to be the meal.

 Chapter 104 Fifteen Silver Coins

    "We''ve got usual cargo to send to a vige in the south. And before you start theorizing, it''s way off the path merchants usually take, so yes, it is profitable, and no, I''m not dealing with shady shit."


    Ali Baba leaned forward, hands sped together.


    "Now that I''ve alleviated your worries, let''s talk about something you''re more interested in. Coin. You''re a strong fighter, true? A Magi. It shows."


    Malik shrugged.


    "I get by."


    Ali Baba grinned.


    "Modesty is rare in your kind. I like it."


    He tilted his head slightly.


    "So, what do you think your services are worth?"


    Malik knew the game, or at least believed that he did.


    Whoever named a number first would set a precedent for the rest of the negotiation, and if the one who did that had identally lowballed it, they''d be nearly guaranteed to get the short end of the stick.


    So instead, he shrugged again.


    Stay connected through My Virtual Library Empire


    "You tell me."


    Ali Baba''s smile widened just a little¡ªlike a Holy Relic Inspector who had just found out the fool in front of him didn''t know the price of what he was selling.


    "Well... we pay our guards well. Base rate¡ª200 silver for the trip."


    He watched Malik carefully, reading every twitch, every flicker of expression, which wasn''t much at all.


    "But of course, price depends on circumstance. Skill, reputation, the dangers ahead."


    Malik had kept his face neutral.


    "Sounds fair."


    "Of course, it''s not just about fighting. A guard must be reliable, disciplined, trustworthy. And we don''t know you yet."


    Ali Baba gestured vaguely.


    "A man''s first job is always a test."


    Malik raised a brow.


    "You''re saying I need to prove myself?"


    Ali Baba spread his hands.


    "Not at all! I believe in giving chances. But coin is given in confidence, and confidence is earned."


    He drummed his fingers on the table.


    "So let''s say¡­ 205 silver."


    Malik''s frown returned.


    That was barely above the base rate.


    "That all?"


    Ali Baba chuckled.


    "My friend, do not think small. 200 is for those who follow orders and swing swords. 205 is for those who might be worth more¡ªeventually."


    Malik exhaled through his nose.


    "I''d say 220. I''m a Saif; I deserve that much at least."


    Ali Baba tsked, shaking his head like a disappointed teacher.


    "Ah, you wound me. I have many mouths to feed, and coin does not flow like a river."


    He lifted a finger.


    "210."


    Malik gave him a nk look.


    "215."


    Ali Baba sighed, rubbing his chin as if the decision weighed heavily on him, and then...


    "215, it is."


    He grinned.


    Malik immediately picked up on what just happened.


    ''I just got yed, didn''t I?''


    He did believe that the base rate was truly two hundred; it wouldn''t be smart for Ali Baba to lie about that, but still, fifteen more for these circumstances felt like a bit of a scam.


    ''I definitely could''ve pushed for more. Judging by La''s words, they had a hard time getting decent fighters.''


    Malik had leverage. If he had pressed harder, called out their need, he might''ve walked away with two hundred and twenty, maybe two hundred and thirty.


    But the deal was done, he couldn''t change the oue... right?


    "Yeah. 215 is fine."


    Ali Baba pped his hands.


    "Then it is settled!"


    He reached into his robes, pulled out a small coin pouch, and slid it across the table.


    "A portion now, the rest upon arrival."


    Malik took it, shaking his head with a smirk.


    "Well yed... mind telling me how much I could''ve gotten otherwise?"


    "No problem. You might''ve picked this up already, but we aren''t from around here. Wee from the Dark Continent, and folks around here don''t appreciate that. Using that as leverage, you could''ve forced me to shill out ten or so more."


    "I see. Thanks for answering."


    "Why ask? Just curious?"


    With a quiet sigh, Malik unsheathed his curved sword.


    "Well, unfortunately for you... You won''t remember even if I tell you."


    Under their wide eyes, he plunged it into his own heart.


    "I''m... not... bound... by..."


    He twisted it.


    "...time."


    Darkness.


    Blink.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Gasps rippled through the crowd.


    "Wha¡ª?"


    "Did he just¡ª?"


    "The fuck is wrong with this guy?!"


    "You''ve got to be fucking kidding me!"


    "What kind of crazy bastard¡ª"


    Though they were used to his Return by Death, most of them still flinched.


    Malik did it so easily, without even a sliver of hesitation.


    And the worst part?


    It wasn''t for love.


    It wasn''t for vengeance.


    It wasn''t to fix some grand mistake.


    It was for coin.


    For fifteen more silver.


    An amount that realistically made not much of a difference.


    Silver was decent money, sure. Enough to keep your pockets from feeling too light, enough to drink something better than watered-down date wine, enough to make a man think he was doing well.


    Gold, though? That was real wealth.


    Most in the crowd wouldn''t have blinked if that was the coin Malik was after.


    One gold wasn''t something you threw around unless you were stupid or so rich it didn''t matter. A single gold could easily feed arge family for a year. Two gold could buy a well-bred desert steed. Five gold? You could rent a house in a good part of the city for a whole season, no questions asked.


    But bronze? Bronze was what you actually lived on.


    One bronze coin got you a loaf of bread, maybe a skewer of meat if the vendor wasn''t feeling stingy. Five bronze could get you a simple meal¡ªa bowl of lentils, some tbread, and a cup of clean water. Ten bronze got you a full meal at a half-decent inn, something with spices, maybe even a bit ofmb if you were lucky. A hundred bronze made a silver, and a silver could stretch far if you weren''t an idiot.


    Even then, Returning By Death just to get fifteen more silver coins was nonsensical.


    It was a waste to bother just for that¡ªabsolutely insane.


    Fifteen silver wouldn''t change his life. It wouldn''t buy him a makeshift sword, wouldn''t get him a night in a whore''s hall, wouldn''t even be enough to bribe a city guard to look the other way.


    Sure, coin added up over time, but this wasn''t about slow, careful saving.


    This was about experiencing pain, dying, and wing his way back for what?


    A few more meals? A slightly better bed at the inn? Maybe a sharper dagger?


    It wasn''t worth it.


    Malik would spend money on armor in the future, and that was certainly expensive¡ªreal protection cost real coin. A reinforced chest te, properly fitted? That was at least ten gold. Good vambraces, gauntlets, greaves? Another five. A whole custom set could cost as much as a damned house. Holy Relics were another matter entirely.


    And yet, even knowing all that, fifteen coins, again, were just¡­ too little. Not even close to enough to justify the madness of dying for it.


    So... that was what made the murmurs change.


    "That''s just¡ª"


    "Greedy."


    "No, that''s more than greedy. It''s¡­"


    They struggled to put it into words.


    One of them just shook their head.


    "I guess it''s what one hundred thousand deaths do to you."


    With that, they turned to La.


    The crowd couldn''t see her, but that didn''t mean they wouldn''t try their luck to see if they could sneak a peek.


    Even without looking at her though, they all knew what she was going through.


    "It''s okay... it''s okay..."


    Safira patted La''s back as she continued to cry.


    It was obvious to her and those around her that those tears didn''t fall for the same reasons as before. Her expression¡ªher eyes¡ªwas not grief alone.


    It was anger.


    And she wasn''t looking at her father anymore.


    She was looking at Malik.


    "Ah¡­"


    And as the past continued ying, as he sat once more across from her father...


    "So that''s how he figured us out."


    La still remembered it like it was yesterday.


    How this stranger had walked into her father''s tent and read him like an open book.


    How he had gotten more coin than anyone else in the caravan.


    And she had hated it.


    Hated how easy it was for him.


    Hated how he had used his death, his suffering for greed.


    How dare he?


    How dare he throw his life away for scraps?


    How dare he think of himself as worth less than fifteen fucking silver?


    Silver that in the end he didn''t even get!


    The La in the past hadn''t known. Hadn''t understood.


    But the La in the present did.


    And she loathed it.@@novelbin@@


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Malik''s eyes snapped open.


    He was back in the tent.


    The scent of incense clung to the air, the cushions beneath him felt just as plush, and across from him, Ali Baba sat, his fingers steepled, that same calcting glint in his eyes.


    La stood nearby, looking like she was ready to jump in if things got heated.


    ''...I got lucky for once.''


    Malik exhaled slowly.


    A slow grin spread across his face.


    Then, just as fast, it disappeared.


    ''Let''s see how much I can get out of these lot.''

 Chapter 105 The Owl Knew

    Ali Baba leaned forward.


    "Now, let''s talk coin¡ª"


    "230."


    Malik cut in.


    Ali Baba blinked. So did La.


    Malik kept his expression firm.


    "That''s my price."


    He leaned back, settling in, eyes watching every little shift in Ali Baba''s face.


    "You need good fighters. Trusted fighters. The road south is rough, worse for a group like yours."


    Ali Baba tilted his head.


    "A group like ours?"


    Malik shrugged.


    "One Thousand Nights aren''t exactly wee everywhere, are they?"


    His tone was casual, but he saw how Ali Baba''s fingers twitched slightly.


    "Merchants from the Dark Continent? Half the cities here try to tax you harder; some won''t even let you camp near their gates. If troublees, you need numbers. Trusted numbers. And from what I''ve seen, you''re a little short on that."


    La''s arms tightened over her chest, but said nothing.


    Ali Baba, though¡ªhe just chuckled, low and thoughtful.


    "You see much, my friend."


    "I see enough. You don''t want to seem desperate. But again, you need fighters, and that means paying for them... If you ept my offer, I''ll swear on my mother''s name that I''d die to protect you."


    Ali Baba raised a brow, surprised at how his opponent was going about this, and drummed his fingers on the table.


    "225."


    Malik acted like he was considering it.


    "...235."


    "Bastard."


    La cursed under her breath, clearly frustrated.


    Ali Baba waved her shut and sighed, rubbing his temple.


    "You drive a hard bargain."


    Malik smirked...


    ''This time, I win.''


    But then froze.


    He saw it¡ªthe tightness in Ali Baba''s jaw, the way his shoulders squared just a little... and the obvious hit him.


    ''This man already gave me the best he could afford.''


    Last time, he had gotten two hundred and fifteen. He believed he was conned out of getting what he was worth. But now, watching Ali Baba''s face, he knew the truth.


    One Thousand Nights couldn''t afford more. Not without putting strain on the caravan. Not without taking from someone else. Ali Baba hadn''t lowballed him. No, he had done his best.


    ''...Fuck. I''m a bastard, aren''t I?''


    For a long moment, Malik just looked at the man across from him.


    ''Not everyone''s out to bleed you dry. Some people just have limits.''


    He seemed to have forgotten that.


    ''You don''t want to seem desperate... Huh. Sure.''


    Yeah. He had gotten that.


    "215."


    Ali Baba''s head snapped up. La did too, her brow furrowing.


    ""What?""


    Malik shrugged, voice easy.


    "215. That''s fair."


    Ali Baba studied him long and careful, then nodded.


    "Done."


    That word came quick¡ªlike he was afraid of giving him a chance to reconsider.


    La, though, was staring at Malik like he had just grown a second head.


    "You had baba... Why step back?"


    "..."


    He didn''t answer.


    Seeing that, she lowered her head.


    "Thank you."


    Malik waved her off.


    "No need. Pleasure doing business with you..."


    He stood, stretching.


    "And I hope we have a peaceful journey ahead."


    La didn''t move, still looking at him like he had just done something she couldn''t understand. Like he had done something stupid. Or something kind.


    She couldn''t exactly decide which.


    Either way, with that, their journey to the South began.


    Hooooooooooooooooooooooooot!


    But it didn''te without interruption.


    Though it was the first time Malik heard that sound, he immediately knew who it belonged to.


    He thought about ignoring it, pretending he never heard it, but his legs moved before he could think.


    The moment he was out of Ali Baba''s and La''s sight, he bolted.


    His boots barely made a sound against the ground as he wove between the tents and carriages, slipping past resting merchants and dozing guards.


    Malik didn''t know why he was running like this, with such desperation, but something deep in his gut told him¡ªhe had to see it.


    And then, there it was.


    Perched atop a weathered wooden post, bathed in the glow of the Shams.


    The crimson owl.


    Unlikest time, it was small, round, and ridiculously fluffy, but one thing remained unchanged.


    There was nothing cute about the way it stared at him.


    Malik slowed to stop a few feet away, panting slightly.


    He stared at the owl.


    The owl stared back.


    Silence stretched.


    Then¡ªHoot! Hoot! Hoot?!


    Malik tilted his head.


    "....What?"


    Hoot... Hoot! Hoot! Hoot?!


    "Are you¡­ asking why I did that?..."


    His voice came out even, though the question itself felt insane.


    "Why I killed myself?"


    The owl''s feathers ruffled slightly.


    Hoot!


    "Well..."


    Malik ran a hand through his hair, exhaling.


    "Just felt like I could''ve had a better entrance, y''know? Maybe squeeze a bit more coin out of the deal."


    Hoot?


    "Yes, that''s it."


    He shrugged.


    Continue your journey on My Virtual Library Empire


    "Something wrong with that?"


    The owl stared... harder? Right.


    A long, unblinking, soul-piercing kind of stare.


    ¡­Hoot.


    Malik narrowed his eyes.


    "Don''t think you''re better than me... if you had the curse you''d abuse it too."


    Hoot!


    It let out a "hmph" of sorts and looked away.


    "Whatever... and wait. Are you God? Or ''Their'' messenger?"


    The owl looked at him weirdly and then shook its head.


    Malik''s lips pressed into a thin line.


    "Then how the Hell do you know about my Return by Death? And why did you help me?"


    "..."


    It didn''t answer. Instead, it did something even weirder.


    pping its wings, it hovered for a moment, approached him, then gently pressed one against his back. Just for a second.


    Then it was gone. Vanished into the light like a ghost, leaving behind nothing but silence.


    Malik ran a hand down his face.


    "Weird bird."


    For some reason, the owl, knowing of his curse, gave him no surprise.


    Rather... some part of him felt that it was natural.


    He didn''t know why, but that was what he felt.


    It was weird, as weird as the bird itself.


    "Maaaaaaaalik! Come here! We''re moving now!"


    A voice snapped him out of it. La''s.


    He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he turned back toward camp.


    "Let''s hope this deal ain''t a bad one¡­"


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    "The fuck did I just watch?"


    A younger man whispered first.


    His words shattered the stillness.


    "He¡ªhe was talkin'' to it. Like... like it was normal."


    "You saw it... The bird. It knew."


    "It really did."


    Someone repeated, this time louder, almost awed.


    A ripple spread through the crowd, echoing more by the second.


    Many of them had gone after the Sultan for so long, yet¡­ none had known about his curse until yesterday.


    The owl now in their midst had preceded them by hundreds of years.


    "That owl ain''t normal."


    "Of course not, idiot. He''s Crimson. We''ve always known he was something different."


    A man in the back scoffed.


    "Hah. And here I thought it was just a spoiled oversized chicken."


    A few chuckles escaped, but they died quickly.


    Because at the front, Crimson sat, still as stone.


    Eyes locked on the projection.


    Unblinking.


    ...Hoot.


    Soft. Almost trembling.


    Tears welled in his massive pink eyes.


    That was when Huda, who had been silent this whole time, finally moved.


    She slowly got closer to his head, staring at him with a new, gnawing feeling in her chest.


    Her movements were almost hesitant. Like she was approaching something sacred.


    "¡­Crimson."


    The name came out barely above a whisper.


    The massive owl didn''t move. Didn''t blink. Didn''t acknowledge her.


    It just¡­ stared at the projection.


    Huda brought her hand to his face, patting the fluff.


    "How did you know?"


    The crowd quieted, all eyes snapping to her and the bird.


    Even the wind seemed to hush.


    "..."


    Yet Crimson didn''t answer.


    Didn''t even turn.


    "You knew about Malik''s Return By Death, right? From the very start."@@novelbin@@


    "..."


    Still, nothing.


    She opened her mouth again, but before she could say another word¡ª


    Crimson replied. Though not with its usual hoots. Instead, it moved its massive head¡ªslowly, gently¡ªand rubbed it against her, the way an old creature would soothe a crying child.


    Then, as if nothing had happened, it turned back to the projection.


    And let its tears fall.


    ¡­Hoot.


    A shiver ran through the crowd.


    Because somehow, without words, they all understood.


    The owl¡ªCrimson¡ªwas mourning. For what exactly, none of them knew.


    None of them had Malik''s inexplicable hoot knowledge. But the weight of it was heavy.


    And for the first time, even the most skeptical among them didn''t see him as just an owl.


    Not anymore.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The journey south had begun.


    One Thousand Nights caravan rolled across thend with the rhythm of hooves and creaking wheels.


    Malik, having absolutely no idea how to ride a steed¡ªdespite La''s many pointed remarks¡ªfound himself inside a carriage instead. It was one of therger ones, filled with colorful cushions and a small brassntern swaying from the ceiling.


    Across from him sat Ali Baba, lounging with the ease of a man who knew his worth. Beside him, La sat cross-legged, flipping a small silver coin between her fingers. ncing at his face every now and again.


    Apparently, Ali Baba was quite the talker. The man had barely let the wheels turn for a mile beforeunching into a story and he went on until nightfall arrived, flowing from one topic to another. The whispered name of a supposedly dying God, the taste of a spice that no man had yet named, the location of a ruin that swallowed all who dared enter. Kingdoms that fell over a single misced sentence. A king without the right whispers. A thief without the right map. There was a library of rumors and knowledge inside that noggin of his.


    "Ah, the Dark Continent¡­"


    He sighed, leaning back.


    "Your folks call it a wastnd... but that''s so far from the truth."


    Malik raised his chin at him.


    "Then what''s the truth?"

 Chapter 106 May She Rest In Peace

    "The truth? Ah, my friend, truth is like a coin¡ªit has two sides, and which one you see depends on how the light catches it. But let me tell you what I know."


    He leaned forward, hands spread like a master weaver spinning threads of gold.


    "The Dark Continent is not just sand and ruin. It is and of fire-veined mountains, of rivers so deep they swallow the Shams, of jungles thick with roots older than empires. It''s and of gold and blood, of fortune and folly. You can find everything there¡ªif you know where to look. But still... I can''t deny it. Most? They only find their graves."


    Malik arched a brow.


    "That so?"@@novelbin@@


    Ali Baba grinned.


    "Oh, indeed. I was but a boy when I left, no more than seventeen, yet already wise enough to know the sands of home held no future for me. It was a dog-eat-dog world there, more so than here, and I''m not much of a fighter... To make matters worse, the Maharaja hoarded wealth like dragons, the warlords carved kingdoms with steel, and themon folk? They struggled beneath it all. And I... I had not the ambition to fight against it."


    He shrugged, voice smooth as silk, despite all his talking.


    "So I left. Boarded a ship meant for wealthier men, stowed away in a barrel of figs."


    La snorted.


    "Got caught within a day."


    Ali Baba raised a finger.


    "Ah, but I talked my way out of being thrown overboard."


    He smiled, purple eyes twinkling.


    "A merchant must always have a tongue sharper than his de. The captain was no fool¡ªhe knew the worth of a good storyteller, and I? I knew the worth of information."


    Malik nodded.


    "So you bartered for your life."


    "And thrived! By the time we reached the eastern ports, I had traded words for coin, coin for favors, and favors for freedom."


    He sighed, shaking his head.


    "Ah, the beauty of the market! One coin buys another, which buys another, and soon¡ªyou have a fortune."


    Malik watched him carefully.


    "And this caravan? How did thate about?"


    La, who had been mostly silent, suddenly leaned forward.


    "Yes, baba, do tell."


    Ali Baba''s grin widened.


    "A tale of cunning, danger, and fate!"


    He ced a hand on his chest dramatically.


    "It was in the city of Al''Sharim. I was but a humble trader, carrying sacks of saffron and silks when I heard a rumor¡ªof a vault, deep within the Shah''s pce, filled with gems that sparkled like the stars."


    Malik narrowed his eyes.


    "A governor''s vault? So you stole your way into this."


    Ali Baba chuckled.


    "Ah, but I never steal with my hands¡ªonly my words."


    La groaned.


    "This is where he starts exaggerating."


    "Exaggeration?"


    Ali Baba gasped, clutching his chest.


    "My dear night, I am but a humble man sharing my experiences!"


    Malik scoffed. Your next chapter awaits on My Virtual Library Empire


    "Right. And how exactly did you talk your way into a vault?"


    Ali Baba leaned in, voice dropping to a near whisper.


    "I posed as a royal gem inspector."


    Malik blinked.


    "You''re joking."


    "On my mother''s grave, I am not."


    Ali Baba smiled, pure satisfaction in his expression.


    "The Shah was a fool, easily impressed by long words and silk robes. I walked through the doors with confidence, and confidence, my friend, is worth more than any key."


    "And no one questioned it?"


    "Oh, plenty did."


    He shrugged.


    "But by the time they had doubts, I had already walked out with enough coin to start my first business."


    La rolled her eyes.


    "And that''s why Baba thinks he can talk his way out of anything."


    Ali Baba pointed at her.


    "Because I can."


    Malik crossed his arms.


    "So that''s how you founded One Thousand Nights?"


    "Ah, well, that is a story I do not simply give away."


    "You owe me a story. Fifteen silver, remember?"


    Ali Baba flinched and Laughed out loud.


    Staring at his betraying daughter, the merchant let out a long, suffering sigh, rubbing his forehead like he had just been robbed.


    "Ah, you wound me, Malik. Truly."


    "You wounded yourself."


    "Fine, fine. You want the meaning of One Thousand Nights? You shall have it."


    He leaned back, eyes briefly distant.


    "A thousand stories, a thousand trades, a thousand deals that shaped us. Every merchant in ourpany has a tale to tell. A struggle, a journey, an ambition. It is our way¡ªto pass down wisdom, coin, and legacy. We are the sum of a thousand nights spent making our way in this world."


    Malik stared at him, quiet for a moment.


    "...You really do like your dramatics."


    Ali Baba grinned.


    "A good story is worth more than gold."


    Malik shook his head.


    "I doubt that... any beggar would disagree."


    Ali Baba smirked.


    "Then you have never truly been poor."


    Memories of all those years on the street shed through his mind, and slowly, he nodded.


    "Maybe not."


    "And you?"


    Ali Baba turned the conversation around.


    "You speak like a man who has seen things."


    Malik gave the safest answer possible:


    "I was a nobody. Now, I''m a Magi. After I''m done with the pilgrimage, I might explore a little... find a ce I can call home. At least for a little while. Then... well, I''ll fulfill my goal."


    Ali Baba hummed, clearly waiting for more, his goal perhaps. Malik didn''t give any.


    Then, without any prompting, he proimed:


    "Me? Ah, well I seek profit, adventure, and, most importantly¡ª" he flicked a finger, and La''s silver coin vanished from her grip, appearing in his own, spinning effortlessly across his knuckles¡ª"entertainment."


    La''s eyes shed, her hand darting for it, but Ali Baba flipped it back to her with a smirk.


    "A merchant without amusement is just a Goldsmith, and where''s the joy in that?"


    Malik shook his head, exhaling.


    "You talk too much."


    "And you listen too little."


    Ali Baba shot back, grinning.


    "But don''t worry, my friend. By the end of this journey, you''ll see¡ªsome things are worth more than coin. And when that momentes... you''ll remember my words."


    La snorted.


    "What, the sound of you rambling? Hard to forget, I admit."


    Ali Babaughed, stretching outfortably.


    "Ah, but a merchant''s words are like a spell, my dear night. You think you''ve dismissed them... until one day, you find them circling back to you."


    Malik watched him, quiet, thoughtful.


    There were truths to his words, ones that allowed him to survive, courtesy of his "old man."


    Remembering him made Malik feel somber and the conversation would''ve ended there if not for La. She had been oddly quiet, sneaking nces at him like she wanted to say something but couldn''t quite bring herself to.


    An act that Malik had noticed, which prompted him to ask:


    "You got something to say?"


    She flinched.


    "Uh¡ªum¡­ Do you¡­"


    She hesitated, then finally spit it out.


    "Do you have a wife?"


    "...No."


    "Oh."


    She nodded, looking relieved.


    "But¡­"


    Before he even knew why, he continued:


    "I did have someone who wanted to be my wife."


    La''s head snapped up.


    "W-Who?!"


    Malik stared at her.


    Then, for the first time in a long while, he saw them.


    Sinbad and Jasmine sitting next to La, staring at him, waiting for an answer.


    That twisting, sinking weight in his gut returned, those memories wing at his mind.


    He shook his head, attempting to dispel the illusion but failing.


    Letting out a sigh, he closed his eyes and¡ª


    "Stop moving! We camp here tonight!"


    Before he could answer, Ali Baba saved him.


    Malik let out a breath and gave Ali Baba the tiniest nod of thanks.


    The older man patted his back.


    "Come with me."


    Under the confused gaze of La, they hopped off the carriage and walked a short distance away from the caravan.


    The night was settling in, stars blinking to life above them.


    After reaching a far enough point where no one would be able to hear them, Ali Baba stopped and leaned against a tree.


    "I''m a Trumpeter of Death."


    Malik just looked at him. nkly.


    Ali Baba raised an eyebrow.


    "That means I can see souls. It has conditions, of course, one being that you need to have less Aether than me and that you''re not a Jinn or higher."


    Malik''s mouth opened slightly, then closed.


    Only now did he understand what Ali Baba was getting at.


    "You understand, yes?"


    His voice was calm, but his gaze was sharp.


    Malik nodded slowly.


    "So?"


    "So¡­"


    Ali Baba exhaled.


    "You''re being corrupted."


    "¡­.....Okay."


    He frowned.


    "You don''t seem surprised."


    Malik shrugged.


    "Figured something was wrong. What''s new?"


    The merchant sighed, rubbing his temples.


    "Listen carefully. The only reason you''re still fine is because there''s something¡ªa pink speck¡ªfighting back against it. And you''ve got a weird resistance for it... But neither willst forever."


    Malik said nothing. He just stared at the ground, absorbing the information.


    Ali Baba straightened up.


    "I''m telling you this because my daughter is interested in you."


    Malik''s eyes flicked back to him.


    "And you shouldn''t get involved."


    "...I understand. And don''t worry. I won''t hold anything against you for this. You''re doing your job as a father."


    Ali Baba lowered his head.


    "Thank you."


    Malik held his shoulder.


    "Please, don''t... But in exchange, humor me a little."


    He looked back up.


    "Ask."


    "I do notice that the... mom isn''t around. Unless there''s been a new method of having children is it safe to assume that she..."


    "Yes."


    "...I see."


    Ali Baba looked weirdly at Malik.


    "That''s it? No sorry about that or something?"


    Malik turned away, gazending on the sky.


    "No... but may she rest in peace."

 Chapter 107 I Wouldnt Know

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The projection paused, and the crowd was stunned silent.


    It wasn''t the deal. It wasn''t the story itself. It wasn''t their origin. The Dark Continent stopped being perceived in such a light long ago. Racism remained, of course; it could never be wipedpletely, but it was frowned upon. So no one cared for that. It wasn''t Ali Baba swindling his way into a shah''s vault. A man able to trade sand for water. His eloquence. Personality. It wasn''t the story of a caravan built on a thousand deals, a thousand lies, a thousand nights spent in pursuit of something greater. No. It wasn''t their history. It wasn''t their legacy, code, or way of life.


    No. It was him.@@novelbin@@


    Their Sultan.


    Malik.


    "Did he just say... ''okay''?"


    "Yeah, like it was just a mild inconvenience!"


    "You''re joking. He has to be joking."


    "''Oh, you''re dying, by the way''¡ª''Okay.'' What in the seven Hells is that?!"


    "The Sultan... he knew. He knew that he was living on borrowed time since the beginning."


    "I told you."


    An older man grumbled.


    "I TOLD YOU. That ck in his soul? That''s corruption. And that little pink flicker? It was keeping him from fallingpletely."


    "It''s nothing to celebrate. You know what happens when that flicker runs out, don''t you?"


    "..."


    "..."


    "..."


    Silence. Ufortable shifting. And then someone coughed.


    "Then... what kept him going? Was revenge really enough?"


    They could not say.


    La couldn''t either.


    She was still crying, but she was smiling, too.


    Because she hadn''t known about any of this¡ªMalik and her father''s secret conversation, the quiet protection. She hadn''t been meant to hear this. Yet here she was, watching it unfold. A story never meant for her eyes had reached it anyway.


    And it was so strange.


    To see her father and husband like this.


    To see them understand each other in ways she never could.


    To see Malik¡ªher Malik¡ªshrug off death like it was just another obstacle to barter with.


    Her purple eyes turned to Crimson.


    As did the others. Huda, Safira, Azeem, Zafar, Noor, and Roya.


    All feeling the same shock, their gazes silently asked him:


    ''Did you know about this?''


    Yet the owl did not answer.


    Again. He didn''t even acknowledge them.


    Again. His gaze was locked onto the projection as if nothing else in the world existed.


    And that silence said more than a few Hoots ever could.


    There was something more. Something worse.


    Something they all knew.


    Once someone began to Fall¡­ there was noing back.


    Like everyone else, La now understood. She understood what her father had seen in him. She understood why he kept away from her, despite her endless flirting. And it wasn''t just the corruption. It wasn''t just the ck in his soul. It was the way he carried himself. Like a man already buried.


    And that realization... that knowledge... it made her heartache like nothing else.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Just as Malik and Ali Baba got back to the caravan, the camp was already alive with the warm glow of arge fire, tents neatly set up around it.


    The smell of roasting meat filled the air, making their stomachs rumble.


    Malik joined them, but he barely had a second to sit before La tugged on his sleeve.


    "Sit with me."


    She patted the ground next to her.


    Malik hesitated, then nced at Ali Baba, who only shrugged.


    The man clearly wanted Malik to keep his distance, but he wasn''t about to make his daughter sad over it.


    With a sigh, he walked over and sat down. Seeing no reason to refuse.


    La grinned.


    "Here, hold this."


    She handed him a skewer with seasoned meat.


    "You ever cooked over a fire before?"


    Malik turned the stick over in his hands, inspecting it.


    "Once or twice."


    "Good! Then don''t burn it."


    She poked at the fire, moving the wood around, then ced her own skewer at the contraption above. Malik did the same, feeling quite rxed.


    But not for long, as La began bombarding him with questions:


    "Where are you from?"


    "...Zawaya. Not a ce worth talking about."


    "What''s your favorite food?"


    "Anything that won''t kill me."


    "Do you have any hobbies?"


    "¡­Surviving."


    "What''s your favorite color?"


    "Never thought about it."


    Explore more stories with My Virtual Library Empire


    "Come on, just pick one."


    "...Gray, I guess."


    "Gray? That''s so boring."


    "It''s practical. Neither white nor ck."


    "Pick another one."


    "Gold."


    "Because of your hair and eyes?"


    "Yes."


    "Boring."


    "It''s the truth."


    "Okay, fine. What about monsters? Do you like any?"


    "I don''t mind them."


    "That''s not an answer. Pick one."


    "...Roc."


    "Ooooh, because they''re cool and strong?"


    "They don''t get eaten. They eat. And they''re a tough fight."


    La rolled her eyes but kept going.


    "Alright, what''s the scariest thing you''ve ever faced?"


    Malik poked at the fire.


    "...Silence."


    La blinked.


    "Like... actual silence?"


    He shrugged.


    "Okay, that''s kinda deep. What about¡ªhmm¡ªoh! Have you ever been in love?"


    Malik nced at her, then back at the fire.


    "I''ve been in a lot of things. Love ain''t one of them."


    La huffed.


    "You''re impossible."


    "You''re persistent."


    "And you''re secretive."


    "I''m alive."


    "Alright, what about music? Do you like any kind?"


    Malik exhaled through his nose.


    "If it ain''t screaming or trying to kill me, it''s fine."


    "That''s not an answer."


    "It is to me."


    La groaned.


    "Tell me."


    "I like the Oud¡­ it sounds beautiful. Back when I was a kid, I used to sit outside a tavern just to listen to it. There were plenty of musicians who yed, but I only ever came for one. I never knew their name or what they looked like¡­ but I could always recognize their style."


    She smiled.


    "That actually sounds nice."


    "It was."


    La nudged his shoulder.


    "See? You can give normal answers."


    "Yeah, whatever."


    "Okay, how about this¡ªwhat''s the best thing you''ve ever eaten?"


    Malik paused, eyes flicking to the fire.


    "...There was this stew once. Don''t know what was in it, don''t care. It was warm."


    "That''s the bar? Just warm?"


    "When you''ve had worse, warm is good enough."


    La fell quiet for a second before grinning.


    "Alright, what''s your least favorite food?"


    "Anything that moves on the te."


    She wrinkled her nose.


    "Ew. That happened to you?"


    He just gave her a look.


    "Right. Stupid question... Okay, next one¡ªdo you have a favorite season?"


    "Not really."


    "If you had to pick?"

 Chapter 108 I Wouldnt Know II

    "...Winter."


    La raised an eyebrow.


    "Didn''t take you for the snow type."


    "You can always wear more clothes."


    She snorted.


    "You just don''t like people, do you?"


    "Didn''t say that."


    "Okay, okay."


    She chuckled.


    "What about friends? Got any?"


    "...Had a few."


    La caught the shift in his tone and softened.


    "Do you miss them?" Stay connected with My Virtual Library Empire


    "..."


    He didn''t answer right away. Instead, he watched the fire flicker, the wood crackling softly.


    "Next question."


    For a moment, there was silence, then she shook off the mood and grinned again.


    "Okay, what about something that makes youugh?"


    Malik snickered faintly.


    "People running from animals smaller than them."


    La cackled.


    "Like what? Rats?"


    "Rats, chickens, tiny canines."


    He paused.


    "Saw a full-grown man get chased by a baby monkey once."


    La was wheezing.


    "No way¡ªwhat happened?"


    "He lost."


    She practically fell overughing.


    "I¡ªoh my God¡ªwas he okay?"


    Malik shrugged.


    "Depends on what you call okay."


    La wiped a tear from her eye.


    "You have got to tell me that storyter."


    "I won''t."


    La groaned, but she was still grinning.


    "One day, I''m only gonna get real answers out of you."


    Malik smirked just a little.


    "Good luck with that."


    La puffed her cheeks in retaliation and kept going, asking one question after another. And somehow, Malik found himself responding truthfully more and more.


    Maybe it was the warm fire, or maybe it was the way La''s enthusiasm refused to be shut down, he didn''t know, but he didn''t bother to think about it too much and just yed along, more interested in the food.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}@@novelbin@@


    Zafar rubbed his face with both hands.


    "I still don''t get it¡­ How? How is he just sitting there? Eating. Talking, after hearing that."


    Azeem let out an exacerbated sigh.


    "That''s because he doesn''t care... he''d long since epted his fate. Killing the Former Sultan was the goal, living through it was just a luxury."


    "No... this..."


    Huda lowered her head.


    "Is this why he stopped caring? Why he did everything, even the vile, to kill my uncle? Just because he''s a..."


    "A dead man walking."


    Safira finished, voice barely above a whisper.


    After that, one by one, their gazes returned to the projection, to the crackling fire, unable to see the way Malik existed among them. A scene that couldn''t stop surprising them. A ghost among men.


    La, though, wasn''t surprised. Not like the others.


    Unlike Huda and Safira watching their past selves, La showed a soft smile, eyes drinking in every detail.


    She could hear her father''s softughter, see the way she subtly guided Malik into the conversation, and see the way Malik, despite himself, responded.


    And she loved it.


    This was her home.


    The whinnying steeds, the pping tents, the warmth of the fire, the scent of spice and roasted meat, the flickering light dancing across their faces, theughter, the teasing, the stubborn refusal to let Malik''s sharp edges keep them away. All of it was home.


    But La wasn''t blind. She knew the future, knew what wasing. The tragedy that turned all of this to ash. However... that didn''t mean she had to let it poison the past.


    She wouldn''t.


    "You were always a storyteller first, Baba."


    La chuckled, even as her eyes burned.


    "You know..."


    Huda spoke, voice clipped.


    "He''s going to kill him. You do understand that, right?"


    La''s smile didn''t waver.


    "I know."


    "And you''re¡­ okay with that?"


    La turned to her, and for a moment, she simply stared at her.


    "W-What?"


    Chuckling at her reaction, she shrugged and looked away.


    "It''s not about okay or not okay. It''s just how it is."


    "..."


    Huda''s lips parted, then closed.


    She had no words... Because La wasn''t wrong.


    There was no changing the cards you were dealt. You could only ept them and move forth, choosing whether to enjoy the somber warmth they brought.


    La? She chose to enjoy the warmth.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    As the food finished cooking, the other members of the caravan, one by one, began to leave.


    Not in an obvious way, but in that casual, ''we totally don''t see what''s happening here'' kind of way.


    Malik easily picked up on it, the quiet nces and small smirks, the way they grabbed their food and conveniently found something to do elsewhere.


    La noticed too, her face heating up.


    "Tch! Meddling fools¡­"


    Though sheined, she was thankful, but yeah, she wasn''t about to tell them that.


    Ali Baba, watching from a distance, scoffed but made no move to interfere and left as well, giving them privacy.


    Malik, for his part, just sat there, eating his food, humming in approval after every bite.


    "Not bad."


    La perked up, deciding to ignore the other for now.


    "Right? I seasoned it myself!"


    Malik nodded.


    "Thanks for the meal. Wouldn''t mind eating it every day."


    La''s face turned red as she smacked his shoulder¡ªonce, twice, repeatedly.


    "W-Well, obviously! Hehe! You better be grateful!"


    Then, before he could respond, she shot up to her feet and ran off.


    Oblivious to the not-so-hidden hidden meaning behind his words, Malik''s gaze followed her until she leftpletely, then turned back to the fire, watching the mes dance in the night.


    Now only he remained, or so one might think. Malik was far from lonely. Sinbad and Jasmine sat next to him, swinging their feet and bobbing their heads as they hummed a song.


    He didn''t know when they ''came by'' exactly but he didn''t mind them.


    They weren''t nightmarish. They were peaceful.


    And this peace¡­ it was new to him...


    Malik didn''t know what to think about it.


    But he didn''t get long to do so.


    "Hey, brother!"


    A man came up behind him, and his hand pped down on his shoulder.


    It was some random guard Malik didn''t bother to know the name of, grinning at him, leaning in like they were old friends.


    "Ain''t you lucky~? Getting all chummy with such a beautiful girl?"


    Malik turned to him, his expression nk.


    "¡­Beautiful?"


    The guard raised an eyebrow.


    "Yeah?"


    Malik looked back at the fire, his voice quiet.


    "I wouldn''t know."

 Chapter 109 Wall Of Dust

    The caravan rolled out at dawn, the first slivers of light stretching over the horizon, turning the wastnd into a sea of deep orange and gold. A beautiful sight that most had grown somewhat bored of.


    The air was cool¡ªthe kind that onlysted in the early morning before the heat came down, making everyone wish they could skin themselves alive to feel a little less hot.


    And somehow, against all odds, Malik could be seen on steedback.


    Not just sitting there, either. Riding. Like he''d been doing it for years.


    Said he learnedst night. No one questioned it. Either they didn''t care, or they had bigger things to worry about.


    Ali Baba ced him near the center of the formation¡ªwhere the more important wagons were, tightly packed, guards sticking close.


    La, surprisingly, wasn''t pestering him yet, probably still embarrassed fromst night.


    Not that he minded. He had other things to focus on.


    Malik''s eyes scanned the caravan, watching how it moved, how it functioned, in which formation, and so on.


    He needed to know all the variables if his first job was to ever be a sess.


    What he first learned was that the caravan moved in a loose diamond shape, with scouts ahead, guards nking the sides, and a rear group watching their backs.


    The wagons stuck to the center, carrying supplies, trade goods, the traders themselves, their families, and the asional tired guard toozy or tired to walk.


    Every so often, the scouts rode back, giving updates on the terrain to Ali Baba, who''d adjust their course based on that information. Sometimes he''d rx in the carriage, but mostly he hung out with the guards, on his steed, the only one with a name in the caravan.


    Sparrow.


    He seemed to have a history with the big fe. Malik was curious, so he asked, and apparently, it wasn''t anything unusual. Just the average lifelongpanion schtick. Yeah. Nothing unique.


    Eventually, when it was midday, the scouts returned with wonderful news.


    "Tall rock formations up ahead. Could be some proper shade there."


    Ali Baba nodded.


    "Good. We''ll stop there for tea."


    Tea. Always tea.


    That was the second thing he learned, or rather, was forced to learn.


    Malik didn''t know if it was some cultural thing or just Ali Baba''s personal obsession, but the man treated tea like it was more important than water.


    Their massive star was at its highest and they were in a wastnd, nearing the desert with each second. But even then, even when the heat could kill an unprepared man, even with food and supplies being rationed, there was always time for some piping hot tea.


    No one appeared toin, so it seemed that he was the only one out of the loop.


    In any case, no matter how much they wanted to, they never stopped for long.


    Doing so meant death.@@novelbin@@


    The third he learned was a bit obvious.


    Hunting wasn''t just a pastime; it was a necessity.


    No one wanted to burn through supplies too fast, so any... small game was a Godsend. Discover hidden content at My Virtual Library Empire


    Desert hares half as big as the average man? Perfect. Lizards that needed to be killed twice because the bastards didn''t know how to stay dead? Annoying, but still food. And if they got lucky?


    A sand fox. Fast as Hell, needed three men to bring down, but worth every drop of sweat.


    The hunters stuck close to the scouts, bows and slings always ready, eyes sharp for fresh tracks in the sand.


    After watching them long enough, Malik decided that he might as well join in.


    He wasn''t exactly the best hunter, but he knew how to move quiet, how to track¡ªskills beaten into him back when he was just another street rat scraping by.


    And most importantly, he knew how to kill when it came down to it. That was a skill he picked up more recently. But that didn''t mean he was any worse at it.


    If anything, he was better.


    His steel had tasted blood more times than he cared to count, and today was no different.


    A hare shot out from the ground a little distance away from him, and Malik reacted before thinking, a flick of his wrist sending a borrowed knife forward.


    It struck true, sinking into its side. By the time he retrieved it, wiping the blood on a cloth, the others had already bagged two more.


    They returned with their kills, adding them to the growing pile of food for the night''s meal.


    Not much, but enough to stretch their rations.


    The evening was easier. When the Shams dipped low, the temperature dropped fast, making it bearable again.


    That was when everyone washed up, shaking off the day''s dust and sweat.


    They didn''t have much water to spare, but they made do¡ªsmall basins, damp cloths, anything to scrape off the grime and feel somewhat clean.


    La, of course, used this as the perfect chance to poke at Malik again.


    "Y-You smell awful~."


    She wrinkled her nose dramatically, handing him a damp rag.


    "Do something about it."


    Malik didn''t argue and certainly didn''t bother thinking about what she wanted to see.


    He took it without a word and shooed her off, much to her barely hidden dismay.


    Some of the¡­ wilder folks didn''t mind the stink, wearing it like a badge of honor. A sign they had endured the road, fought beasts, and lived rough. But Malik? He actually liked this part.


    Back in Zawaya, keeping clean wasn''t just forfort¡ªit was survival.


    When you lived on the streets, filth clung to you like a second skin, marking you as lesser.


    People saw the dirt before they saw the person. A beggar covered in dust and sweat? Easily ignored. But a young man who looked presentable, even in worn clothes? That was someone who might be worth a bronze coin. Someone who might matter.


    He had learned the trick early¡ªwash whenever you could, even if it was just a damp rag and a handful of water. A clean face, a straight back, and the right words could open doors.


    Even if, right now, those doors were just La shoving a cloth in his face while hoping she could sneak a peak.


    Tea came after. Ali Baba brewed it himself, some special blend he swore by, and passed it around in small cups.


    The guards sat in loose circles, sipping, chatting, and sometimesughing.


    It was the only time the caravan felt at peace, like they weren''t constantly on the verge of something going wrong.


    Malik didn''t drink much tea, but he took his cup anyway.


    It was warm, bitter... but sweet. He needed that.


    It was three days of this.


    Moving at dawn, pressing on at midday, resting in the evening.


    Hills, mountains, endless rock formations¡ªit was all the same, stretching out forever.


    They had been lucky so far. No bandits, no storms, no monster attacks at night.


    But luck didn''tst forever. Malik knew that firsthand.


    He felt it before he heard it.


    Just when they resumed from a short break at midday, a faint tremor underfoot.


    Then the sound came¡ªa low, distant roar, like a hundred feet pounding against the earth.


    Malik turned, squinting against the Shams, and saw it.


    A wall of dust. Moving towards them. Fast. Too fast.


    "A HORDE IS INCOMING!"

 Chapter 110 Surrounded

    "A HORDE IS INCOMING!"


    The caravan exploded into action.


    Guards scrambled forward, drivers halted the steeds, and Ali Baba was already barking orders:


    "Form a line! Establish ranks! We meet them away from the caravan!"


    Malik didn''t hesitate.


    He unsheathed his curved sword and joined them.


    Whatever wasing, it wasing fast, and they needed to be prepared to face it.


    Thankfully, the caravan was ready, following Ali Baba''smand to a tee.


    Only a few hesitated, but those didn''t seem all that useful anyway.


    Ali Baba stood at the front, gripping a pretty sizeable staff.


    Behind him, everyone stood firm¡ªdes unsheathed, spears nted, crossbows drawn, nerves steel-tight. This was it.


    First rank: Magi and melee fighters¡ªswords, spears, axes, whatever could tear through flesh.


    Second rank: archers¡ªcrossbows nocked, fingers twitching over the trigger.


    The formation was simple, stupid simple. A child could follow it, which was the point.


    Oveplicated ns got people killed. This? This worked.


    Malik, though? He wasn''t part of their neat little rows.


    He hung back, scanning the field, knowing his curse would do its thing if need be.


    So he watched and learned. In case a... blink would be due.


    Every battle had weaknesses. Every warrior had openings. And every monster had a way to die. This horde was one monster, and he needed to see all of it.


    Ali Baba lifted his staff, voice ringing clear:


    "Drowned Life."


    The white crystal at its tip darkened, runes ring with a ghostly light.


    Then, with a single downward swing¡ªCrkcrk. A chain of death shot forward, slithering across the ground like some kind of hungry phantom. Wherever it touched¡ªgrass, rocks, sand¡ªeverything withered. The air itself felt suffocated.


    It was strong, but it was slow. Slow enough that the others could catch up.


    Behind Ali Baba, the Magi murmured their own chants, weapons glowing, power pulsing. Someone''s staff sparked with blue fire. Another''s hands were covered in floating shards of ice. Another had shards of stone. A colorful array of elements. And then...


    "FIRE!"


    The sky lit up.


    Arrows whistled through the air, tipped with rot, crackling with lightning. Spells followed¡ªgouts of me, des of wind, andnces of raw Aether sting forward.


    That was when Ali Baba''s attack had reached the horde.


    His wave hit the Lizard-wolf hybrids at the front, immediately rotting them, flesh peeling off in wet chunks, bones turning brittle before shattering into dust.


    What followed were more screeches and roars. More bodies hitting the dirt.


    Boom! Boom! Boom!


    And giving not a moment of reprieve, the monster''s front line exploded. Repeatedly.


    Massive, four-armed flesh golems took fireballs straight to the face. Their skin bubbled, flesh melting like candle wax, eyes bursting in their sockets.


    Other simrly humanoid monsters shrieked and stumbled before well-ced arrows drove through their skulls, snapping their necks back.


    Another group of creatures¡ªsome warped lions with too many eyes¡ªgot hit by lightning bolts. They convulsed mid-charge, spasming, foaming at the mouth, before dropping in a twitching heap.


    The ground was a graveyard before the charge even neared them.


    There was no more wall of dust, just the smoldering aftermath¡ªthe stink of charred flesh.


    It was now quiet. Too quiet. Apparently something too ufortable for one of the younger guards, who spoke to fill the silence:


    "Did we¡ª?"


    "Shut up!"


    "Don''t jinx it!"


    "I swear if they get back up because of you!"


    Those were the only answers he got.


    And sure enough, they were right in shutting him up.


    Not all were dead. The surviving monsters had gotten back up and continued their charge.


    "SECOND WAVE! FIRE!"


    This time there was no need for chants. Aether in all its elements tore through the battlefield.


    Bolts of fire and ice burst like meteors upon impact. des of wind sliced through flesh with a whisper. Lightning cracked the sky, turning creatures into charred husks. Jagged spears of earth erupted from below, piercing through anything unlucky enough to be standing in their path.


    The enemy¡­ army was obliterated. Their bodies torn apart, burned, and frozen solid, disying an unholy mixture of destruction.


    Now, there was no question about it.


    There was no horde.


    "WE''VE KILLED THEM ALL!"


    Ali Baba roared, his fist raised high.


    "Wooooooooooooo!"


    La''s cheer followed, easily reaching them from the caravan.


    "HAH! Did you see that? I fried those bastards!"


    A Magiughed, pping his staff against the ground. Discover hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire


    "Did you see my shot? That one lizard lost its head before it even knew what hit it!"


    A bowman bragged, grinning wide as he nudged hispanion.


    "I swear, that was my fireball!"


    "Dream on, man, that was my bolt¡ªwless aim, by the way!"


    Someone let out a loud whoop, shaking their sword in the air.


    "One Thousand Nights stands unbeaten!"


    "Long live the caravan!"


    "Long live Ali Baba!"


    "Long live!"


    "Drinks on me in the next vige!"


    That got another round of cheers.


    Guards shed their swords against their shields, booming war drums of triumph.


    Men and womenughed, grinned, pped each other on the back.


    Some of the younger fighters fell to their knees, whispering prayers of gratitude.


    Those of them not so religious looked around, eyes wide, faces pale, shaking slightly.


    "That was¡ª"


    "Your first fight?"


    An older warrior chuckled, ruffling the kid''s hair.


    "You''ll get used to it."


    Another smirked.


    "Or you won''t. Either way, good work!"


    Moreughter, more cheers, more exhration.


    The battle was won. They were alive.@@novelbin@@


    And throughout all of that, Malik stood still.


    He looked to be on edge.


    His instincts screamed at him... something was wrong. Something was very wrong!


    His sword slid free and he rushed forward. Those around looked at him weirdly as he went past, but he didn''t care for them.


    Just as he neared a group, his eyesnded on a young fighter.


    "Watch out!"


    Before he could register those words, he was shoved aside, Malik taking his ce.


    Somethingshed out from thin air¡ªa blur of movement, long ws glinting in the light.


    It was revealed just as it attacked, a camouged, lizard-like humanoid.


    Malik didn''t have the luxury of looking at it, though.


    One w met his de with a sharp ng. The other sank into his shoulder.


    Flesh split open. Blood dripped down his arm, but he didn''t even flinch.


    At that point, pain was just an old friend that regrly made a visit.


    The creature snarled, pushing forward, eyes burning with hunger.


    Malik didn''t give it a chance, his boot mming into its chest.


    The monster reeled, hissing, ws scrabbling at the air.


    They reached nobody.


    One stroke. One clean cut.


    His de sang. The monster split in half.


    Whoosh!


    A rush of air behind him¡ª


    ''Another one.''


    Malik twisted, his curved de sweeping backward just in time to deflect.


    The ws scraped harmlessly off his steel and with a flick of his wrist, he severed its torso in two.


    "Invisible fuckers are attacking! Look out! We''re surrounded!"

 Chapter 111 New Chapter In History

    "Invisible fuckers are attacking! Look out! We''re surrounded!"


    His warning cut through the stunned silence and chaos was the reply.


    Many tens of them attacked, revealing themselves from all around them.


    "Protect the new blood!"


    Ali Baba barked while easily killing the two monsters.


    His men hardly needed the order, though, already deep in the fight.


    The ones only there to fill in the numbers, too green for a battle like this, were kept behind the stronger guards.


    Anyone¡ªanything¡ªthat tried to reach them died before it could evennd a single attack.


    His men held formation, but the lizardmen weren''t so easily defeated.


    They were fast. And worse? Their camouge made them nearly invisible.


    Of course, that was only until the moment they struck, but that still caught most off guard. Overwhelming many of them, forcing the strongest guards to handle even more monsters.


    But it wasn''t too bad. Experience was sharper than fangs. And Malik?


    He was the sharpest of them.


    A monster he killed barely hit the ground before another lunged at him.


    ws met steel. A shock ran up his arm from the impact, sharp enough to rattle his teeth.


    But he gritted through the pain and shoved back, throwing the monster off-bnce.


    Then¡ªswoosh! His sword cut into flesh, splitting scale and bone.


    Dark, syrupy blood sprayed across the sand, and he crouched low, not wasting a moment.


    He tuned out the noise and scanned the area around him, focusing on the faint distortion in the air where light bent just a little too much.


    ''There.''


    Malik found one...


    "Scorched Grace."


    And before it could attack, he stepped forward, stabbing his de like a stake.


    A tongue of meshed out, burning through it and dropping it to the ground.


    Another one came right after its kin had died, its ws shing in a flurry.


    Malik twisted to the side, dodging the first swipe, then caught the second on his de''s edge. With a flick of his wrist, he pushed it away, and his sword bit through its arm, severing it at the elbow, sizzling what remained.


    The lizard shrieked, stumbling back¡ªbut he didn''t give it a chance to recover. He lunged and swung, a brutal downward sh that split its skull in two.


    cing his left hand on his lower back, he took a stance, his right in a stabbing motion.


    "Fall."


    In quick session, he stabbed the air around him, shooting out mes in every direction unmarked by his own.


    Lizard men hit the ground one after the other, a mighty disy of his prowess.


    Malik was holding his own, alright, but unfortunately that couldn''t be said for the others.


    Most of them weren''t trained for this kind of fight. Too many swung wild, panicking, their formations crumbling under the relentless assault. The bowmen knew how to fight melee, but they weren''t all that, and the Magi, unable to use their abilities with everyone so stuck together, were forced to rely on just their des.


    It was a tough situation... and that was the least of it.


    "Regroup! Stay in pairs! Watch for the distortions!"


    Ali Baba''s voice boomed across the battlefield, another of his orders that Malik had drowned out. It was good advice¡ªif they had time to follow it. They did not. Those who did were too busy protecting those who did not. So they too did not. And Malik?


    Well, he saw them as a burden and kept away, fighting around them instead of with them.


    He ducked as another lizardshed out at him, its serrated tail whipping just above his head, and drove his shoulder into its gut, sending it stumbling back, then spun low, sweeping his sword across its legs.


    It fell with a hiss, and before it could scramble away, he stomped down hard on its throat, crushing its windpipe.


    "Malik!"


    ncing up, his eyes tracked the approaching Ali Baba.


    "What do you want me to do?"


    He shook his head.


    "No, not that. Listen!"


    Ali Baba swung his staff at what seemed to be empty air, only for a withering lizardman to fall from where his staff paused.


    "I see that you''re almost fused with your weapon!"


    Malik stabbed his sword behind him, piercing through one''s neck.


    "Fused? What do you mean?"


    nting his staff into the ground, chains of death rose, surrounding them.


    "Fusing is breathing your air into your weapon! If you did it without being taught, then you''re more of a genius than I thought!"


    "Aha... Then how do I fully fuse? Or whatever you call it."


    "To master fusion is a simple matter! You simply need your connection to be aplete circuit, not one where the edge is cut open, shooting out Aether!"


    "So a two-way road instead of a one-way road?!"


    "Exactly!"


    Malik closed his eyes for a moment then opened them back up again.


    The mes around his curved de suddenly dimmed and dissipated. Then, the base of his steel began to darken, a deep ckish red, slowly making its way up. Just as it reached the tip, runes began to form, and his hand shook, his whole body trembling.


    "T-This heat!"


    Oh... he wasn''t done. He was so far from done.


    Masking his surprise at how easily Malik had gotten it, Ali Baba smiled and went to help those struggling. Which was almost most of them. And, unfortunately for them, it was only about to get worse from there.


    More wereing. Dozens. Maybe more.


    Malik didn''t seem to care, though. He moved fast, much faster than before.


    He sidestepped an attack, severed a leg, and drove his sword through a lizardman''s back as it crashed into the sand. A second tried to nk him¡ªhe pivoted, catching its throat with a clean sh. A third lunged from above, ws outstretched¡ªhe rolled forward, letting it sail over him, and before it could recover, he thrust his de backward, impaling it through the chest.


    They kepting. And he kept killing.


    His world became nothing but steel, blood, and the asional fire.


    A dodge, a counter, a kill. Again and again. It was a repetitive chaos. Yet his mind didn''t dull.


    Everything was sharp. Though that didn''t mean he was invincible. A few lizardmen caught him off guard here and there, ws raking across his body.


    But again and forever more, pain didn''t matter. He kept going.


    He didn''t slow. Didn''t falter. His de never stopped, never wasted a motion.


    The ground beneath him was slick with blood, bodies piling up.


    Another Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. More.


    ...Until only one remained.@@novelbin@@


    It stood a few feet away, crouched low, muscles coiled, its forked tongue flicking out as it studied him as much as he studied it. Smarter than the others. It had seen what he had done. It knew it was alone.


    Malik exhaled slowly, lifting his sword.


    He took a step forward.


    The monster twitched, ws digging into the sand.


    Another step.


    It hissed, its body tensing.


    Malik moved again, reaching it¡ªthen stopped and shifted his weight forward, mimicking an attack. A feint.


    The lizardman took the bait. It lunged, ws aiming for his throat, overextending.


    He stepped back at thest moment and the attack missed by an inch.


    His sword, however, did not. One clean stroke, and the monster was cleaved in half.


    Its body hit the sand in two separate pieces.


    Silence followed, save for the heavy breathing of the fighters around him.


    Malik flicked his sword, sending blood sttering, then sheathed it.


    The fight was over.


    "We won."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The moment the projection paused, the entire crowd erupted.


    "BY GOD! DID YOU SEE THAT?!"


    "HE GOT THE FUSION IN ONE TRY! IN THE MIDDLE OF A DAMN BATTLE!"


    "I swear, that man is insane. Absolutely insane."


    People were shouting over each other, hands in the air, shaking heads,ughing in disbelief. The energy was simply electric, matching that of the caravan before the lizardmen.


    "One. Try. ONE TRY! Do you know how long it takes most people to get that?!"


    "Months! Years! I had a disciple train for five straight years and he still couldn''t do it! The Sultan just¡ªjust¡ªhe just did it!"


    "He barely even tried... Anything that needs control as easy as breathing to him."


    "It makes sense. His mind built itself up with all those blinks."


    "Still, I really can''t believe that he''s a thirteen-year-old. Makes me feel a bit inferior. Second-rate."


    "I know, right? His fighting style back then even rivals some of us here."


    "Man, the Former Sultan''s standards are really high for him to call the Sultan talentless."


    A group of older Magi nodded as they watched the younger ones lose their minds.


    "Hmph. Not bad."


    "Not bad? He just did in an instant what took us half our youth! Give him some damn credit!"


    "I am giving credit!... Just... whatever."


    "Tch. Ali Baba though... He''s much stronger than I expected him to be. I would''ve said that he was in the wrong profession if I hadn''t heard him talk."


    A mate of theirs whistled.


    "If I were him, I''d chain the Sultan to the caravan and never let him leave. That kind of talent is rarer than the twelfth eclipse." Find more adventures on My Virtual Library Empire


    "Hah! You think Ali Baba hasn''t already nned that? That man''s a fox. The way he smiled? Yeah, he''s probably got a contract hidden in his robes right now!"


    "Swear on my ancestors, if he doesn''t make him a captain or something, I''ll eat my damn sandals."


    Laughter followed, more cheers, and someone raised a cup.


    "A toast! To the battle demon!"


    "TO THE BATTLE DEMON!"


    "TO THE CARAVAN!"


    "TO ONE THOUSAND NIGHTS!"


    Most of the crowd was having a st, finally a reprieve from all the somberness. The tragedy.


    They had witnessed the beginning of legend, and that brought an undeniable thrill, making them let loose for a little. Sure, there were others still somber, knowing what was toe, others against appreciating any achievement of his, carrying a blood debt, and yet there was one thing shared between all.


    None of them would forget this battle.


    It wasn''t due to the scale, the emotion, or the skill. No.


    It was the context. A new chapter in Malik''s long history.


    One that would continue to expand even longer after his death.


    Whether they liked it or not.

 Chapter 112 Nothing To Do

    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    Their little battlefield was finally still, thick with the stench of blood. Bodies of monsters littered the sand. Hundreds of them. The only sounds left were thebored breaths of the survivors and the asional groan of the wounded.


    Malik stared at that scene for a while, thinking, considering, contemting, but then shook his head, let out a slow breath, and rolled his injured shoulder.


    ''...I better not.''


    Blood seeped from the w marks, staining his dirty white shirt a dark red, warm, and sticky against his skin.


    It looked pretty bad, though he could barely feel it... Not that La cared.


    She was the first to rush onto the battlefield, like a wife running to her husband, hands hovering over his worst-looking injury.


    "You''re hurt!"


    He nced down at his body and shrugged.@@novelbin@@


    "It ain''t a big deal. I''ve had worse."


    La pouted.


    "Not a big deal?! You shouldn''t be so careless!"


    Meanwhile, Ali Baba stood nearby, his arm wrapped in a cloth where he had taken a hit.


    "I see how it is. My own daughter ignores my injuries to fawn over some outsider?"


    The others chuckled while the man tending to him snickered.


    "Guess we know who''s more important, ay Leader?"


    La''s face turned red.


    "He''s not even hurt! He''s fine! Stop being dramatic."


    Ali Baba scoffed.


    "Oh? Dramatic, am I? I nearly lost an arm!"


    "You have a scratch. You''ll live."


    "Yeah, yeah... Tell that to my poor arm~."


    Theughter spread, and La groaned, burying her face in her hands as the teasing continued. Even Malik smirked a little, though he quickly wiped it off when she turned to re at him.


    La grabbed his uninjured arm.


    "Follow me. I''m fixing you up."


    Malik sighed but let her pull him toward the medic area.


    Watching that, Ali Baba chuckled and gestured for everyone to move on.


    "Alright, alright. Enough gawking, you lot! The battle''s won, but we''ve got work to do! Check the wounded! Gather the weapons! And someone drag those roasted lizards away before they stink up the entire caravan!"


    And sure enough, the caravan''s healer was soon hard at work, tending to the worst injuries first.


    Thankfully, their losses weren''t nearly as bad as they could''ve been. A few people had gotten injured pretty badly, but most had made it through with only a few scratches.


    Still, they needed time to recover¡ªand recover they did, lying around in the medic area, getting patched up.


    "So..."


    While Malik was getting treated, Ali Baba strolled over, shaking his head with an amused smirk.


    "Fusing, huh?"


    Malik nced at the curved sword still clutched in his hands.


    The runes were gone now, the de silver, the heat settled.


    "Yeah."


    Ali Baba hummed.


    "Not bad."


    "NOT BAD?! What do you mean, ''not bad''?


    La gawked at him.


    "That was insane! You saw what he did!"


    "Oh, I saw~."


    Ali Baba mused.


    "And it means one thing."


    He pped Malik''s uninjured shoulder, grinning wide.


    "You''re in for a Hell of a ride now."


    Malik raised an eyebrow.


    "What do you mean?"


    Ali Babaughed.


    "I mean, you just skipped about five years of training in one fight. You think I''m letting you ck off after this? Oh no, my friend. I''ll be using you as much as I can."


    Malik sighed.


    "Great."


    La gave her father THE eyes.


    "Baaaabaaaa..."


    He coughed.


    "Ahum! Ahum! It won''t be too much, don''t worry!"


    "Hehehe, I love you~."


    Malik looked at theedy act in front of him with a deadpan face.


    ''...It beats having vers aspany, I guess.''


    Earlier, before the... world happened, he''d have loved them aspany, but now, he only saw it as a job, nothing more. Or at least he forced himself to see it that way. He''d be a liar if he denied that those two didn''t grow on him a little.


    "So more responsibilities and no extra pay? You''re giving me quite a bad image of your caravan. Don''t tell me I joined a soulless group without knowing..."


    Ali Baba waved his hands around in a panic, afraid his daughter might look at him like that again.


    "No, no, no, of course not! If you keep up this performance, I''ll increase your rate by one silver per week."


    "Give me a good reason to work with you again. Five."


    "I can''t give you tant special treatment. Two."


    "If I don''t talk, nobody will know. Four."


    "It still goes against my¡ª"


    "It''ll be fine. Besides, those monsters we killed will get you a big bump in coin."


    "...Three."


    "Deal."


    ...


    Ali Baba pped his hands together, drawing everyone''s attention.


    "Alright, listen up! We''re changing course. We need to stop at the nearest vige to sell off our goods and get proper medical treatment."


    A murmur of agreement spread through the caravan. The fight had taken its toll, and nobody was in a hurry to face another ambush unprepared.


    "You lot."


    He pointed at a group of people who had done little during the battle.


    "Since you barely lifted a finger, you''re in charge of cutting up the monster. We''ll be selling them in the vige, so don''t mess it up."


    Groans and grumbles followed, but nobody dared to argue. The orders were given, and the n was set. Everyone went to work.


    Later, they rested a bit earlier in the night, needing as much sleep as they could get.


    The next morning, just as the Shams rose high in the sky, they began to move.


    Their journey to the vige didn''t take long¡ªit had been just a short way off their original path. By midday, they arrived.


    The vige was small, just a kilometer or so of builtnd, but lively, nestled between rocky outcrops and star-bleached buildings. People bustled through the narrow streets, haggling over goods, leading steeds, and shouting greetings. Stalls lined the pathways, selling everything from dried dates to... ves. Right. ves. It was a normal thing to see.


    Ali Baba and La immediately set off toward the marketce, followed by people dragging carts full of items. The rest of the caravan split up, some heading to find healers, others looking for a drink to wash away the taste of battle.


    Malik, however, found himself with nothing to do.


    He could''ve joined the purple heads, helped out a little, but that wasn''t in his job description, so he didn''t bother. Or he could''ve gone to have fun with the men, drink away, but that was wasteful, and they were too dirty to have aspany, at least most of them.


    For some reason, matters such as cleanliness, decorum, and the like, now ranked higher in his mind. Those without such... things, he didn''t see as people worthy of his attention.


    In any case, besides those two options, he could''ve gone to buy new clothes but that was expensive. Mending them was too.


    He had them cleaned yesterday, and he saw that as enough, not caring for the small cut revealing his shoulder or the tinier ones all over.


    Malik was a bit of a cheapskate. Even with all the silver in his pouch.


    And so, ignoring everything... he wandered.


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Having calmed down, the crowd nced at each other, a questioning look in their eyes.


    They were curious about many things, but they boiled down to two.


    First¡ªthey had already established that what yed in the projection was his important memories, a moment of great triumph, a defining turning point, or even a lesson learned. But this before them?


    It made them doubt that.


    "Why remember this?"


    The second was something only the smart among them picked up on.


    His inner voice was once so clear in the projection, constant. Now? Not so much. It had grown quieter and quieter as the memories yed out.


    At first, they had assumed it was just a side effect¡ªhis focus, his rage, drowning out the noise. But now, they weren''t so sure... perhaps it rted to his power, as that was the only rising linear variable besides time.


    Interesting, right? Yet it wasn''t what confused them, at least not entirely. Because while his thoughts had faded, something else had be clearer. Recing it. And they heard it... saw it.


    Embodiment.


    It was taking hold of him without him even noticing.


    Step by step, Malik was following the path of Sultan Al-Sahara. Whether it was subconscious, something buried deep inside him, or something imnted by his "old man''s" teachings¡ªthey didn''t know.


    But they knew one thing for certain. Discover more stories at My Virtual Library Empire


    The stronger it became, the more undeniable, the stronger he''d be.


    It was only a matter of time before he noticed it himself and fully turned into the Sultan they knew. The one they loathed.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The vige was quite different from his hometown.


    Here, everyone seemed to know each other, and not for nefarious reasons.


    Children darted between the stalls,ughing as they yed a game that involved tossing small bones. Likely belonged to some game their fathers hunted. An old woman sat on the side of the road, weaving a basket. Merchants called out their prices, each trying to outdo the other.


    Suq Al-Khamis was just as lively, but this one... it was warm too.


    Malik had spent thest hour just wandering, taking in the sights, the scents of sizzling meat skewers and spiced tea mixing with the more unpleasant stench of livestock and unwashed bodies. It was nostalgic.


    He wasn''t really looking for anything in particr¡ªjust killing time while Ali Baba and La handled the selling.


    Eventually, he stopped near a cksmith''s stall, eyeing the weapons disyed¡ªa mix of swords, daggers, and curved des simr to his own.


    "Looking to buy?"


    The cksmith asked, not looking up from his work, fixing a sword''s hilt.


    "Just looking."


    The man grunted, wiping sweat from his forehead.


    "A fighter, huh? You sound like one."


    "..."


    Malik didn''t respond. He had nothing to say to that. He didn''t even know how he "sounded" like a fighter.


    "If you''ve got no business here, you''d better go. I''ve no interest in talking to rude kids."


    ncing at the weapons for onest time, he shrugged his shoulders and moved on, not interested in mending whatever misunderstanding his silence had caused.


    He passed by a stall selling jewelry, then another with exotic spices. Those ones were prettymon, making up most of the stalls.


    It felt peaceful, a stark contrast to the battle from the day before.


    But that was always the way of things. One ce bled, another thrived.


    His feet carried him toward a quieter part of the vige, where the noise of the market faded into the distant hum of daily life. He passed a well, where a woman was drawing water, then a small church built into the side of a rock.


    Someone had left offerings at the bottom of the stairs¡ªsmall trinkets and bowls of food.


    A prayer was carved into the stone next to it, though he didn''t stop to read it.


    "Sir, please wait!"


    Then suddenly, the reason for this memory''s importance arrived.

 Chapter 113 Baptized Kids

    "Sir, please wait!"


    It was a girl. Young, maybe around Jasmine''s age, standing in the middle of the street, looking frantic.


    "H-Have you seen my kid?"


    Malik blinked.


    "...You have a kid? You?"


    She immediately shook her head.


    "I¡ªI said that wrong. I meant the orphanage kids."


    "Oh."


    That made more sense.


    "They lost?"


    "Yes... but it''s, uh,plicated."


    Malik crossed his arms.


    "I see."


    He looked away, already guessing what this was about, and it sounded like a hassle.


    "Sorry, but I haven''t seen any kids, and I''ve got things to do."


    He turned to leave, but she grabbed his wrist.


    "You look like you''re super bored! Don''t lie! I saw you just wandering around!"


    Malik raised a brow.


    "Rude. That''s not how you talk to someone you want to hire."


    "H-Hire?!"


    "Yeah. You think I''d do this for free? I''m no Faraja, you know. Actually, why don''t you just go ask them for help?"


    She bit her lip.


    "They''re not gonna listen to what a kid has to say."


    "Lies¡­"


    Malik muttered, scanning her face.


    "Since you can''t rely on them, does it rte to your church?"


    The girl looked down, hands gripping the hem of her tunic.


    "...That''s what I think."


    He sighed, rubbing his temples.


    ''Not the first time I''ve heard this story... shit wasmon back in Zawaya.''


    Malik weighed his options.


    "If I agree to help you, that mighte back to bite my employer. I can''t have that. I''m sorry."


    The girl''s face crumpled, her eyes welling up with tears.


    "Please! I''ll pay you every coin I have! I''ll give you a cloak! Right! A mask¡ªyou won''t be seen!"


    Malik looked up and closed his eyes.


    ''When did I be this jaded? Didn''t I wish to help people like her?... But...''


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    Even seeing her tremble, hearing her voice break, didn''t stir anything in him.


    He looked back down.


    "I''m sorry¡­"


    Her face fell.


    "I still can''t¡ª"


    Before he could finish, La mmed into him from behind, nearly knocking him forward.


    "We agree!"


    Malik stepped away and turned to look down at her with a nk stare.


    "Ah, I thought I''d surprise you."


    "No, I heard you. I just chose to ignore you."


    She shook her head and met his eyes, unfazed.


    "Never mind that. You weren''t going to give up on kids, were you?"


    Malik waved her off.


    ''I was going to do exactly that.''


    He thought it but didn''t say it.


    Instead, he reached down and lightly tapped the girl''s head.


    "You heard her. We''ll do it."


    The girl''s face lit up.


    "T-Thank you so much!"


    She jumped in ce, beaming, and threw her arms around him in a hug.


    Malik didn''t react. He just let her do what she wanted, while La watched with an expression that looked suspiciously like jealousy.


    After that, they walked down another part of the vige, the girl leading the way.


    "I''m Huda by the way! What''s your name mister?"


    He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning her from top to bottom.


    She had ck hair and brown eyes, not the crimson he''d never forget, yet he couldn''t deny that Huda would be around her age by now...


    Still, there was no way it could be her, right?


    ''No. It can''t be.''


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    They all turned to Huda, their gazes practically screaming a question, the obvious one.


    She felt their stares but refused to meet them, her head locked to the projection, a sad smile on her face.


    "The second time we met was in our manor''s mansion."


    Patting Crimson''s fluff, she buried her face in it, letting his warmth settle her nerves.


    ''He still remembers me!''


    She didn''t want the others to notice that she was happy. Giddy even.


    She didn''t want the others to notice how her heart squeezed at the thought.


    How her eyes teared up.


    "Hehehe..."


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    "Twelve children¡­"


    Huda''s voice was steady now as she exined the situation.


    "All gone after being ''baptized'' by our church."


    Malik clicked his tongue.


    "Yeah. Too many to be counted as lost. Definitely kidnapped. The church sold them off."


    She nodded grimly.


    "Yes. That''s what we think."


    "Any witnesses?"


    "None¡­ unfortunately."


    As she answered, they reached the orphanage.


    It was an old building, its stone walls worn and weathered, but it stood strong.


    Children yed in the courtyard, theirughter ringing through the air, unaware of the fate of the ones who had vanished.


    The head of the orphanage¡ªa priest¡ªgreeted them at the entrance, his smile weing.


    "Come in,e in!"


    He opened the door.


    "You must be tired from your travels. Join us for a meal."


    Malik didn''t hesitate and stepped inside.


    "Sure."


    The priest''s smile didn''t waver, but there was something behind it now¡ªa little more weight. Like he expected that answer but was still measuring Malik with his eyes.


    "Good... That''s very good."


    ...


    Malik sat cross-legged on the floor, ncing at the tes set before them.


    ''I''ve seen worse.''


    The meal consisted of roasted desert critters¡ªbeetles, scorpions, something that looked like centipedes but fatter¡ªalongside a thin, grainy porridge. A few strips of dried meat, possibly jerky, wereid on the side. It all smelled¡­ earthy.


    It wasn''t exactly a feast, but it was food. More than good enough for a man like him.


    La, on the other hand, looked like she wanted to throw up.


    She stared at the te, then at Malik, then back at the te.


    Her face twisted.


    "You''re actually going to eat this?"


    Malik picked up a beetle, cracked the shell, and popped it into his mouth like it was nothing.


    The crunch was loud.


    La recoiled.


    "Oh, Hell no."


    The priest sitting across from them let out a chuckle.


    "You must learn to appreciate all that God has given us, youngdy. Nothing goes to waste here."


    Malik chewed, swallowed, and gave a shrug.


    "Not bad."


    La''s face turned green.


    "That''s disgusting."


    "You should''ve seen me in the firstyer then. Almost died. No food. Just water."


    He picked up another beetle, turning it over between his fingers.


    "Ended up eating roots and raw critters. Tasted way worse than this."


    La gawked at him.


    "You ate them RAW?!"


    Malik nodded and bit into it.


    "Didn''t know cooking made this much of a difference."


    The priestughed again, somehow already clearing half his te.


    "You have the heart of a survivor, young man. I like that."


    La whispered in horror, nudging his leg under the table:


    "You can''t actually expect me to eat this!"


    He looked at her, raising a brow.


    "Yeah."


    "But¡ªit''s bugs."


    He popped a third beetle into his mouth.


    "And?"


    "Bleh..."


    She gagged.


    The priest chuckled, watching the exchange.


    "You should listen to your friend. There are many here who don''t have the luxury of turning down a meal."


    Malik wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded.


    "At least it''s warm."


    La finally pushed her te away.


    "I¡ªI think I''ll pass."


    He snorted.


    "Suit yourself."


    The rest of the meal passed with idle conversation.


    Unlike a certain someone, the kids ate happily, chatting about nothing in particr.


    Huda stayed close, sitting beside Malik like he was some kind of protective wall.


    She ate quickly but quietly, eyes flicking between him and the priest.


    Eventually, with the tes all clean, the priest pped his hands together.


    "Alright, children, go y now. The adults need to talk."


    The kids groaned but obeyed, some still licking their fingers as they ran outside.


    All except one. Huda.


    She stayed put, hands curled into fists in herp.


    The priest looked at her, smile never fading.


    "Now, now. You should go outside too."


    She didn''t move.


    The priest exhaled through his nose but didn''t push further. Instead, he turned to Malik.@@novelbin@@


    "So, will you help us with the children?"


    Malik leaned back in his chair and nced at La, who was already staring at him, waiting for his answer. She looked like she wanted to say something but held back.


    He let out a slow breath.


    "Depends."


    The priest tilted his head.


    "On?"


    "Before that, tell me, should I be calling you father?"


    "No... just think of me as the priest."


    "Sure, and well... My involvement depends on how much trouble this is gonna bring."


    The priest chuckled.


    "Ah, a man who thinks ahead. I respect that."


    Malik tapped his fingers against his arm.


    "The girl said twelve kids disappeared after being ''baptized.'' That''s not getting lost. That''s deliberate."


    The priest nodded.


    "That''s correct."


    "And someone from the church sold them?"


    The priest didn''t answer immediately.


    His smile thinned, but it was still there, like a mask.


    "That is what we suspect."


    "To who?"


    "I don''t know."


    "Figured."


    Malik nced at Huda.


    She was staring at the table, hands gripping the fabric of her pants.


    ''...I can''t leave them like this.''


    He looked back at the priest.


    "If I do this, I do it my way. And NO church politics."


    The priest studied him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.


    "Thank you."


    La puffed out her chest.


    "See! I was correct in agreeing! This''ll be a nice little adventure!"


    "..."


    Malik didn''t respond to that. He just looked back at the priest.


    "Do you have a map?"


    The priest''s smile returned.


    "...I believe I do. Let me go get it."

 Chapter 114 You Never Know

    The priest returned with the map, carefully unfolding it on the table.


    "All the children vanished three days after their baptism, always at night."


    His fingers smoothed out the worn parchment, revealing a detailed depiction of the region.


    "No one ever saw the culprit. Whoever it was snuck in without a sound, left no clues, and took them away like a ghost."


    La frowned.


    "That''s ridiculous! No footprints? No dragged furniture? No one sign of forced entry?"


    The priest shook his head.


    "Nothing. It was as if the kids just ceased to exist. As you know, we reported this to the Faraja, but they refused to help. imed the children must''ve run away... that we weren''t taking good enough care of them."


    Malik let out a snicker, shaking his head.


    "That''s almost hrious... So the church is just telling you to shut up, huh?"


    The priest sighed, his shoulders slumping.


    "That''s what it seems like."


    "Hm. A Temr bigwig has their hands on this, don''t they?"


    Malik continued before they could answer his question, his eyes narrowing:


    "This bigwig doesn''t have their men do the kidnapping themselves, but they pass on the information after the baptism. The... menu gets distributed to those interested. So the buyer gets to pick their merchandise. If they find a kid worth the trouble, they ask for them, and their friendse to pick them up."


    La mmed her hands on the table.


    "That''s sick! I swear if I ever get my hands on one of these bastards¡ª"


    Malik raised a hand.


    "Easy. We''re dealing with a crafty fucker. Gotta be smart about this."


    He leaned in, studying the broader geography of thend.


    At the center was a colossal dark sphere¡ªAl-Fawra, the Maw of the Devil.


    Surrounding it was the Markaz, where the Holy Kingdom sat, taking most of the southeast.@@novelbin@@


    It was and popted by grand houses, mansions, manors, towns, and cities, all surrounding the Holy Pce.


    Below that was what they were currently traveling through. And further below that was endless desert¡ªDawaha, an unforgiving wastnd filled with dunes, canyons, and towering ss monoliths, remnants of a forgotten war, jutted from the sand like jagged teeth.


    To the easty the Dark Continent, La''s home, separated by vast bodies of water. The Ten Seas. A stretch so treacherous that even the most seasoned of sailors hesitated to cross.


    There, towering ziggurats weremon, houses of worship of all kinds, and tombs, all were under the cover of a gigantic forest, likely a result of divine intervention.


    Thosends weremonly known as the first to house humankind.


    The north mirrored the south¡ªexcept instead of desert, it was a frozen wastnd, an abyss of eternal night. An unfathomablyrge storm sat in its center, a never-ending one.


    To the west, however, were rtively lush grasnds, where most of the''s poption thrived. The only ce untouched by the''s cruelty, making it quite curious... wanted.


    Many had fought over thatnd, and an empress took hold. Scheherazade.


    That too wasmon knowledge, yet that wasn''t what Malik focused on.


    Next to the main map was a much smaller one. It originated from a dot in the southern region, one that indicated their current location.


    This map focused entirely on the vige, disying its buildings in detail.


    Malik tapped it.


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    "Quite remote for a trafficking operation. Hm. Before I start, you got questions to ask?"


    The priest flinched but nodded.


    "I... I do¡­ why us?"


    Malik nced at La before answering.


    "Ain''t it obvious? Like those from the East, you''re seen as a liability. For them, it''s just because they look different or were born in a differentnd. With you? It''s because you messed with their money. The taxes they pay end up reaching you, no matter how little, and that erks them. Instead of hating the vige Caliph, the one cutting into their profits, they hate you, knowing their heads would be cut otherwise. And they do so even though they all know that you''re doing a great thing."


    La smiled at him while the priest exhaled shakily.


    "I understand¡­ But what does that mean for us now?"


    "Since the disappearances began, how many caravans have passed through? Besides us, of course."


    The priest furrowed his brows, thinking.


    "None that I know of."


    Malik nodded.


    "Then the kids are being stored somewhere nearby."


    La raised a brow.


    "Couldn''t they have just sold them right away?"


    He shook his head.


    "Depends. But I wouldn''t bet on it. Judging by the state of the orphanage, even the best-looking kid here isn''t high-value. They wouldn''t be worth selling one at a time. The vers need to move them in bulk to make a profit. That means they''re stockpiled somewhere, pretty secret but essible, waiting for a carriage."


    La and the priest stared at him in disbelief. Huda too looked thrown off, almost twice as much as them.


    "Why do you¡­ know so much about this?"


    Malik shrugged.


    "Had vers as roommates once. You pick things up..."


    "Ha~ guess you never know when things might be good for you."


    The priest softly nodded at La and cleared his throat, clearly unsettled.


    "In that case¡­ there are some abandoned buildings around. Here, here, here, and here."


    He pointed at four different locations on the vige map.


    "There are more, but those are regrly used by the homeless."


    Malik''s eyes lingered on the spots, then he pointed at a building slightly northwest of the cluster.


    "This is the church, right?"


    "Yes."


    The priest confirmed and La suddenly perked up, eyes lighting with realization.


    Before Malik could, she pointed to the closest building near the church.


    "Then it has to be this one!"


    The priest looked at them, confused while Huda seemed... shocked, gasping.


    Ignoring their reactions, Malik simply gestured towards La, giving her the chance to exin.


    "It''s obvious, no? Halling cargo makes a lot of noise, and in this case, it''s kids. They aren''t exactly quiet. Even if they''re knocked out, they aren''t easy to move. As he said, if they''re stockpiling them, it has to be somewhere close enough to get them out quickly but also somewhere people wouldn''t question odd noises. And what better ce than right next to the church?"


    Malik stood up, cracking his neck.


    "We''re hitting that ce tonight. Get prepared... oh, and go get me your pouch. I ain''t doing this for free."

 Chapter 115 Which One?

    The area near their target was a dead zone¡ªin and simple. Just one street over, life carried on like normal, but here? It was like the vige itself had given up.


    Sand clung to the cracked streets, piling up in doorways, blown in by winds that whispered through shattered windows. Not a soul lingered. No stray felines. No beggars. Nothing. The silence was thick, only broken by the asional rattling of some forgotten sign.


    Maybe the locals knew something. Maybe they could feel it. Like a wound on the vige''s skin. A cancer. And no one wanted to get too close. Especially not at night.


    Malik, the priest, and La were the only ones who dared, or, well, bothered to do so.


    Though La almost couldn''t. After hours of begging and promised assurances, she had barely gotten permission from her father.


    At the end, even after epting her going, he stopped her outside the inn, telling her to stay, but she''d somehow wormed her way into this "little adventure" anyway.


    There was no stopping her once she got an idea in her head, and Malik didn''t even begin trying. Either way, she fell under his protection, and if she got gravely injured, a little dying would certainly help. Unless that happened again, there was no need to worry.


    Malik couldn''t be that unlucky, could he?


    The three stood outside the building in question¡ªa two-story wreck with boarded-up windows and a door barely hanging on by rusted hinges. But more importantly, there were footprints. Belonging to small feet. Dozens of them. Some old, some fresh, all leading inside.


    The three exchanged nces and nodded. No words were needed.


    Malik stepped up first, tapping the door lightly with his knuckles.


    He pressed his ear against it, listening.


    Silence.


    He gave it one more knock, stepped back, and unsheathed his curved sword.


    CRACK.


    It cleaved through the door like it was paper, splitting it clean in half.


    The unhinged half ttered to the ground, sending up a cloud of dust, and though it looked loud, it wasn''t all that bad, so they continued as normal.


    Malik squeezed through first, de low, eyes scanning every shadow.


    And... nothing. No guards. No movement. Just a musty stink and something worse¡ªsomething chemical.


    Tap... Tap...


    His boots tapped softly against the stone floor.


    A signal.


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    Hearing it, they squeezed in as well, keeping low.


    Once inside, they hugged the walls and crept forward, following Malik''s every move.


    The building was quiet, but the deeper they went, the stronger that acrid smell became.


    And then, faintly...


    "...ill..."


    An unintelligible whisper.


    Malik barely had time to react before La bolted forward.


    "Damn it¡ª!"


    He lunged after her, fingers just brushing her sleeve before she slipped out of reach, rounding the corner.


    ''Why the Hell is she so fast? Isn''t she a nonbatant?!''@@novelbin@@


    Cursing under his breath, he took off after her, the priest right behind him, feet barely making a sound on the stone.


    The hallway twisted into another and another until it reached an open area.


    Once he stepped in, the stench hit him like a wall. So thick it felt like oil in his throat, turning each breath into something foul, but... that wasn''t what grabbed his attention.


    It was La.


    She stood frozen at the entrance, fingers digging into her mouth like she was trying to stop herself from screaming. Her whole body shook, her eyes locked on something ahead.


    Malik followed her gaze.


    And there they were.


    Fifteen bodies.


    Huddled together in the farthest corner of the room, piled on top of each other like discarded dolls.


    Then, all of a sudden, for a second¡ªjust a second¡ªtheir forms glitched.


    Their faces weren''t their own.


    They were his... Sinbad.


    All of them.


    Necks slit, blood pooling beneath them, seeping into the stone like the earth itself was drinking deep. Their dead eyes, all fifteen of them, locked onto Malik.


    His breath hitched.


    He shook his head hard¡ª''No. No, that''s not real.''


    And just like that, they were gone.


    Back to their original forms.


    After a shaky breath, he stepped forward and kneeled beside the nearest child.


    Lowering his right hand, he pressed two fingers to the boy''s neck.


    "He''s..."


    A beat.


    "...Alive. Still alive."


    The priest did the same, checking another.


    "He''s breathing."


    La crouched by a girl no older than ten.


    "S-She is too..."


    It was a relief, but only a small one.


    The kids weren''t dead, but they weren''t healthy either.


    Their breathing was too slow, their bodies too ck.


    "Drugged... the bastards."


    The priest muttered while adjusting his robe, prompting Malik to nod.


    "But something''s wrong."


    The priest frowned.


    "What?"


    Malik nced at La, then back at the children.


    "Count them. There''s more. Three more."


    La looked up sharply at the priest, eyeing him suspiciously.


    "Didn''t you tell us they were twelve? Where did theye from? And why weren''t they reported missing?"


    The priest raised both hands, waving his palms.


    "I¡­ I don''t know. But casting suspicion upon me so hastily is unwise. When confronted with unexpected revtions, one must not allow doubt to cloud their judgment. It serves no purpose to put an ally on edge. In fact¡ª"


    Tap.


    Cutting off the priest''s rambling with a tap of his boot, Malik got straight to what mattered:


    "Enough. Forget all that¡ªjust think for a sec. If they''re all knocked out¡­ then whose whisper did we just hear?"


    The annoyed La and the priest nced at him and then at each other, only now realizing that they overlooked the very thing that led them here.


    Rrustle!


    But before they could process that, they heard low shuffling.


    Three of the kids had stirred, struggling to push themselves upright.


    One boy with dirty brown hair looked up at Malik with bleary eyes.


    "We¡­ we were awake... We couldn''t get the door open¡­ we were trying to get out."


    Malik narrowed his eyes.


    "Then why pretend to sleep? I''m sure you''re smart enough to know that we weren''t your captors."


    The boy dropped his gaze.


    "We¡­ we were scared! You can''t expect us to know!"


    The priest ced a hand on Malik''s shoulder, a silent warning to ease up.


    "They likely used just enough to keep them unconscious without causing harm. And they messed up with these three."


    Malik scoffed.


    "Amateurs, then?"


    "Not necessarily."


    The priest countered.


    "As I said, too much could cause permanent damage, and they obviously wouldn''t want that to happen to their product. So they either miscalcted the dosage or those kids simply had a higher immunity to it."


    La clenched her jaw.


    "Product. Yeah, that sounds about right."


    The priest turned to the boy, offering a reassuring nod.


    "Don''t worry. We''re getting all of you back to your families."


    Malik, however, had other priorities. He crouched in front of the other two kids.


    "Remember anything about the fuckers who took you? Faces? Names?"


    The first kid stammered.


    "I-I¡­ I don''t¡ª"


    La smacked Malik on the head.


    "Language!"


    He ignored her.


    "So?"


    The boy swallowed hard.


    "I don''t¡­ please don''t hurt me."


    Malik turned to the other.


    "You?"


    "I¡ªI was sleeping¡­ I just woke up here¡­ I don''t know what''s going on."


    He nced at the priest.


    "You think bandits have ess to this kinda drug?"


    The priest shook his head.


    "No. This is organized. A faction is involved."


    "Oh, a religious one?"


    "¡­Likely. But not the faction itself. Their militias. And not their top brass, no, double digits aren''t worth their time. This reeks of extremism."


    Malik nodded.


    "Yeah. Too much work formon bandits, too little for a full-fledged faction. Sounds like bottom-feeding extremists to me. Those dregs are too low on the food chain to think about doing things in a roundabout way."


    La snickered.


    "Some bigwig in this church allying with extremists, how nice~."


    The priest smirked.


    "And if we leak this to the factions, their own people will kill them before we even have to."


    "Now that''s an idea."


    Malik turned back to the kids.


    "What do you think? Isn''t calling those types of organizations militias sullying the word? Ain''t they just glorified cults? Tell me."


    They hesitated.


    "I¡­ I don''t know."


    La flicked his forehead.


    "Stop scaring them."


    Malik caught her hand before she could retract it.


    "List the cults for me."


    She huffed butplied.


    "Temr have the Pdins. Twelvers have Naser Al-Sultan and Hashashin. Originists have the Zealots. There are others I think, but those are the most publicly known ones."


    Malik released her and turned to the most nervous of the two boys, staring him down.


    "What do you think? Which cult is it?"


    "..."


    The kid trembled, saying nothing and Malik''s golden eyes narrowed further in response.


    "Tough one, huh? Temr is the obvious choice. Always figured them for this kinda filth."


    "..."


    Nothing.


    "¡­Then again, Twelvers aren''t much better. Could be them."


    "..."


    Still nothing.


    "But you know¡­"


    Malik leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.


    "Originists do love their money. More than their lives, even."


    The boy flinched. A small, nearly imperceptible movement.


    "Ah... you almost had it."


    Schwing!


    Steel shed. A dull thud followed.


    Then...


    "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"


    La''s scream tore through the room.

 Chapter 116 Welcome To The Real World

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The second Malik''s de cut clean through the kid''s neck, the world just¡ªstopped.


    For a breath, everything hung in that thin silence... Then, it detonated.


    Not just the Holy Pce¡ªno, it felt like the entire damn world shook. A ripple, a shockwave of sound, like all the''s inhabitants flinched at what just happened.


    Of course, the loudest ripple was right here in the hall. Pandemonium. Many screamed, hands gripping their heads like they couldn''t believe what just happened. Some gasped so hard you''d think they''d swallowed their own tongues.


    And then, predictably, there were the ones who saw red. The "righteous."


    "HE KILLED A CHILD!"


    "A STAIN UPON THE SULTAN''S NAME!"


    "HE TRULY IS SHAYTAN''S SPAWN! A DEVIL!"


    "MAY HELLFIRE CONSUME HIM!"


    The outrage came loud and fast, voices roaring over each other, fueled by shock and anger.


    Dumb Magi jostled, their disgust written all over their faces. For some, this was the perfect excuse to spit venom, joining the tide even though they cared not for what Malik had done.


    Eventually, with the loud mouths exhausted of breath, a few of the smarter ones seized the opportunity to tear into him as well.


    They''d been waiting for this exact moment and nothing would stop them from letting out all they kept behind lock and key.


    "Hah! And you praise this man? Typical of the Sultan''s ilk!"


    "Not even the vers would do something so vile!"


    "You see now?! You see?! This is who he truly is! A killer, a monster!"@@novelbin@@


    "A beast in human skin! No, worse! Even beasts know mercy!"


    "He didn''t hesitate! Not even for a second!"


    "What kind of man kills a child?!"


    "Not a man. A devil."


    "And you all defend him?!"


    "You sit here and watch and still act like he''s worthy of the Sultan''s name?!"


    "Disgusting! Disgraceful!"


    "Shame upon you! Upon all of us!"


    "Never must I see any¡ª"


    "..."


    Just as quickly as the "outrage" red though, it had died¡ªall in an instant.


    Not because they''d run out of breath like the other group. No. Because, well, nothing would stop them EXCEPT a leader of theirs.


    And this pressure they felt? It wasn''t just from one leader but four. Even Crimson threatened them with Death''s embrace, staring them down with eyes of bright pink.


    Discover hidden content at My Virtual Library Empire


    Theirbined presence crashed into them like a tidal wave. Huda, Fam Iblises'' Sword. Safira, Fam Iblises'' Fairy. La, Fam Iblises Merchant. Azeem, their Sultan''s Right Hand.


    Those people, and the bird, could level a city with a flick of their fingers... or talons.


    The crowd, in all their screaming, seemed to have momentarily forgotten that.


    They, no matter what rank or position, were insects beneath their feet.


    Many a Magi shrank back, even the bravest of them. Of course, their resentment didn''t disappear, but it was shoved back in and locked away once again.


    And now that they had quietened, those genuine of the lot¡ªthe ones who had actually been paying attention¡ªhad revealed what they pieced together.


    "¡­Wait. Hold on. Do you Magi not notice it?"


    "Everyone, think for a second."


    "That kid¡­ Before the Sultan even swung his steel, that kid flinched."


    "Think about it! The footprints, the way those three just happened to wake up right after they showed up¡ªand only them! Kids who weren''t a part of the orphanage''s twelve, and the way he hesitated when asked about the militias! It all adds up!"


    The pieces clicked together for everyone listening. There was no doubt about it; everything that happened was just a little too convenient.


    "They weren''t kids."


    Someone let out a breathless chuckle, in disbelief.


    "Oh, shit."


    "¡­He knew."


    "He knew from the beginning."


    "It was a damn trap. And he flipped it right on them."


    One still clung to their earlier outrage, unwilling to let go.


    "Even so! What kind of man just¡ªjust executes someone like that?!"


    "A man who doesn''t fuck around."


    "If he hesitated... if he tried to ''talk it out,'' they would''ve slipped away, and we''d still be asking dumb questions."


    A slow chuckle rippled through the crowd.


    "The Former Sultan¡­ He really undersold it, didn''t he?"


    "''Smarts,'' he said."


    "He should''ve said damn near terrifying."


    Another exhaled sharply.


    "But vers disguised as kids¡­? I knew the trade was bad, but I didn''t think it was that deep."


    "Moremon than you''d think."


    An older man muttered.


    "You ever wonder why the Sultan banned it even though many before him didn''t? Even though it''s epted in all religions? He saw just how low it''d get firsthand."


    Whispered prayers escaped a few younger Magis'' lips. Others clenched their jaws, feeling quite a bit somber, imagining the lives of those ves back then.


    Each group reacted differently, and yet, amongst all this, one thing stood out the most.


    Not a single Magi of the Big Three militias spoke up. Not any of the Pdins. Not any of Nasir Al-Sultan. Not any of the Zealots.


    The silence of those under Temr was especially unexpected.


    They, not so long ago, screamed their lungs out, repeatedly chanting "All Hail." But since then, and now? They remained silent.


    This was a bad day for them all.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection}


    The other two kids scrambled back in horror. And the priest staggered, eyes wide. The boy''s¡ªno, the bastard''s body flinched as his head went rolling, and in an instant, he contorted, stretching, morphing into a fully grown man.


    "What are you doing? We''ve got our answer, c''mon."


    At Malik''s goading, the priest reacted fast, mming his foot into the other kid''s chest, sending him sprawling.


    Malik wasted no time either.


    His de shed again, and by the time the kicked body hit the ground, the third extremist became just another corpse, his head sliding off.


    Now, there was only one left, and Malik stepped forward to meet him, his sword raised.


    But the priest suddenly blocked his way, hands raised in defense.


    "Wait!"


    Malik red at him.


    "So you''re working with them? I expected better¡ª"


    The priest red back and turned to the bastard.


    "I said wait, you idiot!"


    "..."


    For once, Malik actually listened, pausing his steps.


    Not because of the priest''s words, but because of the clear, unwavering look in his eyes.


    "Why?"


    His voice sounded irritated.


    "Why stop me from killing him?"


    The priest gestured for him to get closer.


    "We need him as evidence."


    Malik narrowed his eyes and did as he requested.


    "You know that getting any information out of him would paint you as the bigwig''s target, right? They''d do anything to silence you. We better show them that we killed him just as we discovered him. I can''t, and I won''t stand still if we''re going to be involved in church politics."


    "I''m not doing that."


    "Then what? Wait... You aren''t nning to crawl back into bed with the Faraja, right? Even though they abandoned you?"


    The priest shook his head.


    "No. That''s not it. It''s just... These people have done wrong; there''s no doubt about it, but we still shouldn''t kill them if we can avoid it. Thew exists for a reason."


    Malik scoffed.


    "Huh... I forgot people like you existed. Alright, sure, whatever you say."


    He sheathed his de and turned to check on La, who was still frozen in ce, staring at the carnage.


    "You alright?"


    She nced at him.


    "I..."


    And then looked away.


    "I don''t know."

 Chapter 117 Welcome To The Real World II

    The rest of the mission wrapped up as cleanly as it could.


    The priest wasted no time heading off to their local Istgah Faraja. Not long after, officers arrived, scooped up the unconscious kids, and hauled thest man standing off to rot in the dungeon.


    La barely said a word the whole time.


    Her face was pale, eyes distant. She wasn''t... there¡ªnot really.


    Malik tried talking to her, grounding her, but she barely reacted. Like the whole thing had drained something out of her.


    Ignoring that for now, Malik returned to the priest, helping out here and there.


    When it was all finally over, they made their way back to the orphanage, silent.


    The moment they stepped inside, Huda rushed to greet them.


    Her face was full of worry, but she forced a smile.


    "Y-You''re back! How did it go?"


    Malik shrugged.


    "Handled. The fuckers that kidnapped them are dealt with. The kids will be back after they''re healed."


    She looked at him, then at La, then at the priest, before finally asking:


    "Were they all¡­?"


    Malik shook his head.


    "Only two. Thest one was sent to the dungeon. A blonde."


    The second that word left his mouth, something in the little girl''s face shifted.@@novelbin@@


    Her body stiffened, and before anyone could react, she suddenly lunged straight behind the still disillusioned La.


    In the blink of an eye, her body shifted, warping, stretching¡ªnot as drastically as the ones before, but just enough to show her true appearance.


    Her hand darted into her sleeve, and when she pulled it out, a small dagger was pressed against La''s throat.


    "If you want her alive..."


    Huda snarled, her voice losing all warmth.


    "Have them release him. Now."


    "W-What are you doing?!"


    La stammered, snapping out of it, panic finally hitting her.


    Malik, meanwhile, just sighed and nced at the priest.


    "You knew?"


    The priest looked genuinely disturbed.


    "She¡­ she was brought here two months ago¡­ I swear, I didn''t know."


    Malik nodded, then turned his attention back to the woman.


    "So, out of everyone in this vige, you thought I''d be the easiest to fool? Just ''cause my clothes are a little torn up? ¡­I just didn''t wanna waste money on a new set, you know."


    Huda pressed the de closer to La''s throat.


    "Shut up and do as I say!"


    He sighed, barely reigning in his anger, and stepped closer.


    "Answer my question first! DID I LOOK THAT EASY TO YOU?!"


    Her breath hitched, as did everyone else''s.


    They had never seen Malik this angry before, and it terrified them.


    Their bodies couldn''t stop trembling, and Huda was no exception, her grip on the dagger faltering for just a second.


    "I¡ªI chose you because¡ªbecause you looked like you could help!"


    She barely stammered those words out, eyes darting around like a cornered rat.


    "Because..."


    Malik blinked.


    "What?"


    She swallowed hard.


    "You¡ªyou looked like the kind of person who could handle himself!"


    His eyes narrowed.


    "Isn''t that the opposite of what you want? Why pick someone strong?"


    Her lips trembled, but then her expression twisted into something uglier, something full of regret¡ªnot for what she did, but for failing to pull it off.


    "...We only nned to take a few, just enough to keep us going, but then we realized¡ªno one cared about them. Not really. They were just mouths to feed. So why not take them all?"


    Malik''s frown deepened.


    "All?"


    She nodded, her fingers digging into La''s shoulder.


    "I thought¡ªI thought if we could trick you into luring the priest there, then¡ªthen, when he let his guard down¡­"


    Her free hand mimed a quick sh across the throat.


    "So you got greedy, huh? Too bad~."


    At his teasing, something in her finally snapped. Her face twisted with rage, and she screamed:


    "IT''S ALL BECAUSE OF YOU!"


    The dagger pressed even closer to La''s neck, a thin line of red beading where the de kissed skin.


    "Why the Hell would you go so far for someone you don''t even know?! He''s only giving you twelve silver coins! Twelve! That''s nothing! Look¡ªif you help me out, I''ll give you half the profit! How about that?!"


    Malik paused, held back a snicker, ignored her offer, and looked at La.


    "You good?"


    "I-I think..."


    Her reply came in a tremble. She was clearly shaken, but her thoughts seemed to have cleared up.


    That was enough for him.


    Ticked off, Huda had the dagger spill more blood, cutting a deeper wound.


    "If you won''t cooperate then shut up!"


    Malik sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.


    "Okay, okay, let''s calm down."


    He raised his hands in surrender, his stance loose and unthreatening.


    Then, ever so casually, he stepped towards the orphanage doors.


    Slow. A step. Then another.


    "That''s better."


    Huda followed, dragging La with her.


    She was so focused on Malik, so determined to keep him in her sights, that she didn''t notice La''s right hand inching toward her own.


    "Cursed touch."


    Then, just as that chant resounded, Huda''s hand... withered?


    Right... Just before their eyes, life drained from it. Explore hidden tales at My Virtual Library Empire


    Her skin tightened and shriveled as if years had passed in an instant.


    In turn, her grip failed, her fingers spasming, leaving the dagger to tter to the ground.


    "What¡ª?!"


    Before Huda could even process what had happened, La snapped her head back, mming it into her face¡ªright on the nose¡ªwith a sharp crack.


    A yelp of pain. A stumble. And that was all La needed to twist away from her grasp.


    Malik didn''t waste the opportunity.


    With the same casual ease as swatting a fly, he stepped forward and backhanded Huda straight across the face.


    The impact sent her crumpling to the ground, out cold before she even hit the floor.


    ...Silence.


    Malik turned to La, the corner of his mouth quirking up.


    "How''s this for adventure?"


    She let out a short, bitter chuckle, still catching her breath.


    "It... it really wasn''t what I had in mind."


    He raised both his hands, spreading them wide to his left and right.


    "Then wee to the real world."

 Chapter 118 Unfamiliar Luxury

    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    The moment the projection paused, the crowd burst into noise.


    "Man. Does. Not. y!"


    "I swear on my ancestors, I thought that bitch was about to cut Madam La''s throat!"


    "Yeah, but even back then ourdy was the best haha!"


    "She''s not a heroine that needs saving!"


    "Forget all that. Did you hear what she said? We nearly guessed everything correctly!"


    "And they almost got away with it. Imagine if it wasn''t him they tried fooling."


    "Haha, I know..."


    While they went on and on, La stared at the projection, lost in thought.


    She barely heard the crowd. Barely felt their eyes on her.


    She was somewhere else. Somewhere in the past.


    It had been a quest. A little adventure.


    To do some good.


    That was what she told herself.


    Save the kids. Deal with the kidnappers. Simple.


    But that wasn''t the whole truth, was it?


    La wanted to help, yes, but if she was honest with herself¡­


    A selfish part of her¡ªone she didn''t want to admit existed¡ªhad been excited to go because of him.


    Malik.


    She wanted to see him in action, wanted to be close to him, to be involved in whatever crazy, impossible, and thrilling life he seemed to have lived.


    And what happened?


    La got exactly what she wished for.


    ...It terrified her.


    Back then, she had thought herself strong. Thought herself capable.


    But when it all came down to it...


    When blood was spilled...


    When the reality of life and death pressed against her throat...


    She froze.


    Malik hadn''t.


    He had been so¡­ decisive. So unflinching. Like her life meant nothing to him.


    And that?... It hit her like a p to the face.


    Not the fact that he didn''t seem to care about her.


    No. She knew better than to think that.


    It was the realization that she had been spoiled. Sheltered.


    Her father had given her everything¡ªwarmth, safety, security. He had raised her with kindness, with patience, with love.


    And because of that, she had never truly understood how ugly the world could be. How brutal. How unfair.


    She hadn''t met the "real world." Not until that night.


    Not until she watched Malik cut through a ''kid'' like it was nothing.


    Not until she realized that, in his world, hesitation meant death.


    La hadn''t just grown up that night.


    She had been forced to.


    ***


    {Inside The Projection} Find your next read on My Virtual Library Empire


    The job was done.


    The priest, looking like he''d aged ten years overnight, sighed and handed them the promised payment¡ªtwelve silver coins. Nothing more, nothing less.


    He also took a second to heal La''s neck, muttering something about how it wouldn''t scar, but that she should be more careful to involve herself in such things if there ever was a next time.


    Malik doubted she''d take that advice.


    Then came the farewell.


    The priest gave them the usual ''May the light guide you'' sermon, but Malik tuned most of it out, already thinking about food and a bed. La actually bowed, thanked him properly, and gave a face all smiles.


    They left soon after, making their way back to the inn where their caravan had holed up for the night.


    Malik and La walked in silence, but it wasn''t ufortable. Just¡­ a tired silence.


    The second they stepped through the inn''s entrance, they were met with the Grim Reaper.


    Ali Baba.


    He was right there, arms crossed, leaning on the wall. Not angry. Just expectant.


    La, to her credit, didn''t hesitate. She spilled everything.


    The quest, the imposters, the priest, the orphanage¡ªeverything.


    She didn''t downy her own mistakes either, which surprised Malik.


    He half-expected her to gloss over the whole ''almost got my throat slit'' part, but no, sheid it all out.


    So Malik stood back, waiting for the scolding. The whole ''What were you thinking?!'' speech. Maybe even one for himself too¡ªsomething about being a bad influence or dragging her into danger. That he didn''t listen to his warning, unnecessarily involving himself with her.


    But instead, Ali Baba just let out a deep sigh, rubbed his temples, and looked at him.


    "Thank you... Thank you for teaching her a little about the world."


    Malik blinked.


    That was not what he expected.


    He scratched his head.


    "Uh... no problem."


    And that was that.


    Malik grabbed a piece of bread and then headed straight for his room, too drained to stick around.


    Eating it while walking, he crashed onto the bed and was out before his head even fully hit the pillow.


    Morning came.


    They got up, packed their things, and made a final sweep through the market, picking up what they ordered yesterday.


    Fresh supplies, dried rations, waterskins¡ªeverything they''d need for the road ahead.


    La seemed... steadier. Maybe notpletely okay, but she wasn''t as shaken anymore.


    With their carts heavier, their pouches lighter, they regrouped with the caravan.@@novelbin@@


    The carriages were packed, the steeds were fed, and the path was mapped.


    With the first light of dawn warming their backs, they set off.


    From there, the journey stretched into days, weeks, then months.


    The road blurred into a never-ending cycle of dusty trails, campfires, and starry nights.


    One Thousand Nights moved steadily, passing through viges, trading goods, updating maps, and ensuring they had enough supplies to make it to the next stop.


    They, of course, involved themselves in the asional quest, but none were too dangerous. Malik made sure of that. He couldn''t risk her life; his curse was unreliable.


    In turn, that made everything feel a tad peaceful. Despite the asional man he killed or the horde of monsters he annihted.


    He had never lived like this before¡ªnever had the luxury of a somewhat predictable routine.


    It felt strange. Almost unnatural.


    And then there was La.


    From the moment they left the first vige, she stuck to him like glue.


    If he was walking, she was right there. If he was sharpening his curved sword, she sat beside him, watching with wide, fascinated eyes. If he was eating, she''d take bites off his skewer like it was the most natural thing in the world. And if he was trying to relieve himself? She''d be nearby, standing guard¡ªor at least, that was what she imed.


    Malik had given up trying to shake her off.


    "Can''t you bother someone else?"


    He grumbled one evening as she sat next to him, legs crossed, arms wrapped around her knees.


    "Nope. I might copse from Malik deficiency."


    She rested her chin on her knees.


    "You''re the most interesting person here. Plus, you''re handsome... And I like you."


    Ali Baba snorted at that, passing by with a knowing look. Malik just sighed.


    Though... much to her frustration, she didn''t always get him.

 Chapter 119 Bellowing War Horn

    In what seemed to be random intervals, he wouldpletely disappear for hours, and none of them knew where or why.


    Malik would meet up with the owl at those times, as it was following them for a reason he had yet to know.


    He''d sometimes see it, or rather, him, float with a few birds different from its kin, seemingly wanting to bed anything his pink eyesnded on.


    Over time, Malik started learning more about the people in the caravan.


    He grew closer to the scouts and a few guards that Ali Baba trusted. Those ones actually bothered to clean themselves.


    The others¡ªnewly hired guards like him¡ªweren''t worth being remembered. Even the one that kept pestering him since that night at the campfire, asking about tips on how to get with thedies or something along those lines.


    Ali Baba, though, seemed to remember everyone¡ªeven those he didn''t really care about.


    Despite being the leader, he was surprisingly hands-on.


    He handled business deals personally, scouted the best trade opportunities, and even made sure to train some of the younger guards himself.


    And Malik¡ªwell, Malik learned those things too.


    His learning didn''t stop at trade routes and people¡ªit turned inward as well. This peace gave him time to think. To reflect on himself¡ªwho he was, who he had been, and who he would be.


    For one, Malik learned the hard way that sleep wasn''t something his body just did anymore.


    No. Sleep had conditions. Rules.


    Rule one? He had to bepletely, utterly, mind-numbingly exhausted¡ªphysically, mentally, spiritually¡ªall of it. If even a fraction of his brain had energy left, his hallucinations would creep in, vivid and merciless.


    And when he did sleep?


    It was a mess.


    Tossing, turning, muttering things he wouldn''t remember in the morning. Sometimes, he cried¡ªnot that he believed it at first. Until La, ever the nosy little shit, hesitantly pointed it out, her usual teasing nowhere to be found.


    And the worst part? The screaming.


    That one? He did believe.


    Because it wasn''t just some whispery nightmare thing¡ªit was violent, like his lungs were trying to rip themselves out of his throat.


    At first, he had no idea. He never woke up to his own voice, just to La staring at him like he was about to explode, or Ali Baba giving him that heavy, knowing look.


    "Malik... you should talk about it."


    "No."


    "Malik¡ª"


    "Drop it."


    La didn''t. Of course she didn''t.


    But she did change tactics.


    Her solution? Absolute terrorism.


    If he woke up grumpy? She teased him about whatever nonsense he muttered in his sleep.


    If he looked extra haunted? She''d dramatically throw herself in hisp, loudly dering that he needed "some softness" in his life.


    If he flinched at a sudden sound?


    "Oh no, don''t tell me the mighty Malik is scared of the wind now?"


    It was relentless.


    Ali Baba took the more subtle route, cracking jokes at Malik''s expense while keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder when no one was looking.


    Slowly, painfully slowly, it worked.


    The nights stopped feeling like death traps waiting to snap shut.


    Sure, he still slept like a man waiting for a knife to the ribs. Sure, he still woke up at the slightest sound, hand already gripping his weapon before his brain even caught up.


    But the screaming?


    It was quieter now.


    Malik also learned that Ali Baba was a much better fighter than he let on.


    When monsters attacked the caravan¡ªwhich happened at least a few times a week¡ªthe young dad was right in the thick of it, killing everything around him with a wave of his staff.


    And Malik? He found himself enjoying the battles more than he should have.


    The rush ofbat, the way his curved sword felt in his hands, the satisfaction of cutting down threats¡ªit was exhrating. To the point that he''d forget about his little trauma for a while.


    He was growing addicted to it.


    La, of course, never strayed far from his side. Even in battle.


    "Stay back."


    He''d tell her.


    "Not a chance."


    She''d reply, gripping a dagger she barely knew how to use.


    It was frustrating. But also¡­ oddlyforting.


    Ali Baba took note of it, too.


    One night, after a particrly rough fight with a pack of hounds, he sat Malik down by the fire.


    "You ever thought about settling down?"


    Malik stared at him.


    "What?"


    "You know what I mean."


    Ali Baba smirked, ncing over at La, who was busy cleaning her dagger nearby.


    "Girl follows you around like a shadow. Jumps at you every chance she gets. Can''t you just... ept her?"


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    Malik sighed slowly.


    "Didn''t you warn me not to get involved?"


    "But you ARE involved. My words lost their meaning the very night I said them. You know I can''t hurt my daughter like that."


    "Yeah, yeah... but well... Either way, I''m not¡­ built for that."


    Ali Baba hummed.


    "And yet, she sticks around anyway."@@novelbin@@


    "..."


    Malik had no response to that.


    "What are you guys talking about?!"


    La hugged her dad from behind, peeking over his shoulder, her purple eyesnding on Malik.


    "Me, right? The most beautiful girl in the world~?"


    Their replies couldn''t be any different from each other:


    "Oh, yes you are~!"


    "Your father was."


    One was pure love and the other was detachment.


    Pouting her cheeks, La hmphed! at Malik, making her father chuckle.


    "Looks like my lineage will end with you."


    "Baba~ don''t tease me..."


    "Okay okay."


    Raising his hands in surrender, Ali Baba stepped away.


    "I''ll leave you lovebirds to it."


    Ignoring her father''s words, La sat beside Malik.


    This time, she didn''t say anything. Just sat there, looking up at the twelve moons.


    "Why do you stick around?"


    Malik finally asked, breaking the silence.


    She blinked at him.


    "Do you want me to leave?"


    "..."


    He didn''t answer.


    She grinned.


    "That''s what I thought."


    He rolled his eyes but didn''t push her away.


    The days continued, and their journey south remained mostly peaceful, a strange warm monotony. Every vige they passed by had its own stories, its own people with their struggles and triumphs.


    Malik listened, observed, and for the first time in a long time, felt a part of something.


    He found himself feeling lighter, even if he didn''t want to admit it.


    But peace neversted long.


    They had crossed a significant distance in their travels, and were set to arrive at another vige once they went past the mountain roads.


    ording to Ali Baba, the passageway was of varying length; some had considerable width, and the others not so much. So they had to adjust every time it changed.


    At around the halfway point, they finally entered a wide clearing, the roads showing history of the travelers that had crossed this road before them.


    Malik blinked, and as if the steed had listened to some unspoken demand, it stopped.


    Some of the people were still exiting the narrow winds that they''d just gotten out of.


    "Malik?"


    La peeked from behind him, trying to glimpse the front.


    SWOOOSHH!


    The head of the guard in front of him exploded, blood staining his face.


    Some of it made past him, dripping on the girl''s nose.


    GHOOOOAAAN!


    A warhorn bellowed.


    Malik already moved¡ªTing! Ting! Ting!


    Deflecting the three arrows that''de for him and La.


    The rest?


    A rain of arrows that darkened the dimming sky.


    And worse yet, almost as if hidden amidst the rain and the backdrop of the afternoon Shams, an extremely lethal one shadowed past them all, a three-pronged arrow, striking into the eyes of Sparrow.


    The mighty steed stomped and whined, throwing Ali Baba off, then as if its strings had been cut¡ªTHUD!


    Dead.


    A beat... Another.


    It was as if time had frozen.


    But the rain did not. It came in waves.


    It fell. Tragedy fell.


    "ATTACK!!"

 Chapter 120 Carved Into Stone

    "ATTACK!"


    The smarter, more experienced ones quickly raised their shields, blocking out most of the projectiles.


    The weaker, dumber, and naive ones? The ones who were still a little wet behind their ears?


    They stared at death itself.


    "SHIELDS UP YOU MORONS!!"


    Ali Baba''s desperate shout roused some of them. Yet. it wasn''t enough.


    Half of them faced the same fate the guard before Malik had.


    One of the younger guards, likely only a few years older than him, gawked up at the sky¡ªeyes wide in terror¡ªbefore an arrow pierced through his head.


    He copsed, blood soaking his tunic.


    What followed was worse.


    A steed shrieked, an arrow buried deep in its nk, buckling beneath its rider.


    The man barely had time to scream before he was trampled into the dust.


    Another man fell from his saddle, an arrow buried deep in his throat.


    Another screamed, clutching his leg where a jagged shaft had punched through.


    The carriages groaned as they took arrow after arrow, splintering.


    Death was all around them.


    ...It was a trap.


    They''d walked into a neatly crafted one.


    Ali Baba, still struggling to stand, took out a blue gem from his left sleeve, shattering it.


    A dome of Aether suddenly surrounded them from all sides, standing between the caravan and death.


    "Nononono¡ªThis¡ª"


    "An ambush?!"


    "¡­"


    The surroundings were filled with such thoughts. Then¡ª


    Crack!


    The dome shattered.


    One-time use? Time limit?


    Such thoughts roamed around the golden-haired child''s mind.


    Ambush. Calcted. Elemental attacks breaking through.


    The rain followed right after.


    ''¡­Might take a blink. But¡­ let''s figure this shit out first.''


    Malik''s grip on the reins had tightened, his curved sword raised high.


    He needed just a second to activate his ability but even that he wasn''t given.


    La, behind him, sat frozen¡ªher hands gripping his cloak, fingers trembling. Again.


    She was terrified.


    In the beginning, he seemed to have it under control but then came another three-pronged arrow.


    One that targeted them and only them.


    It hit hard and fast, rumbling his entire body and shooting off his steel into the ground.


    Now... he had nothing to defend himself with, and more were stilling.


    "Malik¡ª!"


    She didn''t even get to finish; his sudden movement pausing her words.


    With instinct, not thought, he twisted in the saddle, yanked her into his arms, and wrapped her in his cloak.


    Just as he did that...


    THWIP!


    A single tracking arrow¡ªmeant for her throat¡ªsank deep into his shoulder.


    "Ugh..."


    A burst of burning pain radiated through his body, and yet, he didn''t flinch.


    He had to keep her safe. That was the only thing that mattered. His pain? His body breaking down? None of that meant shit.


    "Malik!"


    La''s scream was muffled against his chest, her hands clutching him, desperate.


    And still¡ªthe arrows kept falling.


    One.


    Two.


    Three.


    Each one punched through flesh, sinking deep, rattling against bone.


    By now, he looked ridiculous¡ªlike some cursed, half-dead porcupine.


    And yet death wasn''ting for them. At least not yet.


    Ali Baba raised his staff high into the air.


    "DEATH WALL!"


    The words boomed like thunder, and a pulse of ck Aether exploded outward, a wave of decay ripping across thend.


    Iing arrows withered midair, their wood rotting into dust, their steel tips crumbling into ckened fragments.


    But not all enjoyed such a fate.


    A few arrows made it past the wave, striking wagons and grazing flesh.


    GHOOOOOAAAAN! Enjoy new adventures from My Virtual Library Empire


    Right after that, a second horn resounded, breaking an... illusion?


    The "rock formations" ahead rippled and shattered, revealing the truth.


    Dark figures. A horde of them. Masked, armored in scavenged gear, sprinting towards them with weapons drawn. Swords, axes, spears¡ªall catching thest light of the dying sun.


    Their stomps deafened the ears, and the caravan soon found themselves encircled and pounced upon¡ªpredators upon a meek herd of deer.


    The only difference between the meek herd and them was simple.


    ...This herd knew how to fight back.


    "WE MEET THEIR CHARGE!"


    Ali Baba''s roar shook the battlefield.


    The guards who still had their spines left gritted their teeth and fell into position. Weapons raised. Their caravan was under siege, and they would ensure its survival.


    But Malik could already see it. Fear. Doubt. And... cowardice.


    Not all were honest men. Rather, most of them weren''t.


    Those who had sworn their steel to the caravan looked at the swarm of bandits and made their decision, bolting without a second thought.


    Some even tossed aside their weapons.


    They just ran. Leaving the caravan to fend for itself.


    "Worthless bastards..."


    Malik snarled.


    He swung off his steed and grabbed La, ignoring her yelp of protest.


    "Malik, let go! You''re injured!"


    She thrashed, trying to nt her feet while he dragged her to the nearest carriage.


    "You can''t do this to me!"


    He yanked the door open and shoved her inside.


    "Malik¡ª!"


    The door mmed shut.


    Click.


    He locked it.


    "STAY HERE."


    His voice was cold, final.


    Fists pounded against the wood.


    "MALIK, I CAN HELP!"


    "You''re not a fighter."


    "NEITHER ARE THEY!"


    That made him pause.


    He looked at the scattered remains of their defense. At the few remaining fighters, standing firm but horribly outnumbered. At the merchants¡ªthe ones who couldn''t fight.


    Their children were shoved in carriages, behind crates. Women clutched whatever they could find¡ªknives, skewers, even their own fists¡ªjoining their men.


    And the guards who were paid to fight? Mostly all were running.


    Willful traitors¡­ all.


    "Fucking cowards."


    One of them¡ªthe same annoying mercenary he never bothered to learn the name of¡ªgrabbed his arm.


    "LET''S GO, BROTHER!"


    He was frantic; his eyes were wild with fear.


    "..."


    Malik didn''t move.


    "LET''S JUST GO, MAN! THIS SHIT IS A LOST CAUSE!"


    The guard shook him violently, pleading.


    "WHY EVEN BOTHER WITH THESE HEXBLOODS?!"


    Ah... he shouldn''t have said that. He really shouldn''t have.


    It snapped something inside Malik.


    He didn''t know the exact meaning of those words but he had a solid guess.


    That was enough.


    Schwing!


    His curved sword shed.


    A wet, gurgling choke... silence.


    The man staggered, his hands flying to his throat¡ªfingers weakly grasping at the deep wound. Blood spilled in thick, bubbling streams. His eyes¡ªwide, unfocused¡ªwere no longer looking at Malik. They were looking through him.


    Then, he fell.


    Malik exhaled slowly and turned to the battle.


    Ali Baba was at the front, alone. Locked in a fight with bandits twice his size, Magi, staff shing, deflecting, countering, killing one after another¡ªbut for how long?


    Malik swung his left hand to his back and pulled out all the arrows.


    Without a single grunt, he stepped forward.


    "...I''ll kill you all."


    ***


    {Outside The Projection}


    Not a whisper sounded as the projection paused¡ªMalik standing there, sword dripping, his voice like steel grinding against stone:


    "...I''ll kill you all."


    And the crowd? They were frozen. Staring.


    Then, like a flood breaking through a dam¡ª"Damn, cowards!"


    "The Sultan should''ve rock-stomped his head!"


    "Deserters deserve worse!"


    A hundred simr opinions shed in the air, voices ovepping.


    Not a single one of them even mentioned the whole porcupine fiasco.


    Such a level of pain wasn''t noteworthy inparison to what they got used to seeing.


    A few dumbasses shook their heads, muttering about his brutality, but most grinned, excitement in their eyes, as if they were watching the making of a legend.


    "La."


    The front wasn''t so excited, though.


    "La. Answer me."


    Safira''s voice was soft. Careful.


    "..."@@novelbin@@


    She received no response.


    La just didn''t seem to hear her.


    She was staring at the Malik in the projection.


    She felt like she was there... with him.


    But she wasn''t. Not really.


    She never was.


    Her past was different.


    She didn''t remember this.


    ''Heh...''


    A sad smile tugged at her lips.


    They battled those bandits, but not like this.


    They were prepared. Malik knew they wereing.


    His "instinct" told him of their attack. Right. His instinct.


    That obviously meant one thing and one thing alone.


    Malik had used it again.


    Return by Death.


    God knows how many times before he finally reached the oue she knew.


    She swallowed hard.


    The thought made her sick.


    How many times had he died?


    How many times had he relived this nightmare until he got it right?


    Until he killed her father? Was it perhaps the key to their survival? Was that the only way Malik saw them surviving?


    Her fingers curled into fists.


    Back then, in their final battle against the bandits, she had wanted to go.


    She begged to join them, to fight alongside him. But she wasn''t ready. She would''ve been a burden.


    La had only Ascended and learned a few basic spells.


    After that, well, she cultivated at random and never learned anybat skills.


    She didn''t see it as something she needed. Her guards were there for a reason.


    That all changed with his betrayal, however.


    That was it.


    The point of no return.


    The moment everything¡ªher future, her choices, her very existence¡ªgot carved into stone, whether she liked it or not.


    ''Do you remember?''


    Safira had been biting her tongue this whole time, itching to ask that.


    Maybe for the tenth time.


    But then she saw it.


    That look.


    So... Safira shut up.


    Some things didn''t need to be said.


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