Emilia didn’t know how she got on the carriage, but she was already there. It rattled on and clearly, it was already moving back to the kingdom.

Her mind was drifting from thinking about something then to nothing. It was warm, yet she felt cold, almost frozen. She couldn’t feel the weight of Lazarus cradled in her arms.

Having had her expectations grow for Lazarus only for it to end up with...

Emilia had thought that Elysia’s shocked expression meant that Lazarus had a mana pool so overwhelming that it shook her. But that wasn’t the case, it was the complete lack of the mana instead.

‘He has no mana.’

These words echoed in Emilia’s mind.

Everything in Valeria had mana. There were two types, nature mana and innate mana. Innate mana dwelled in every living being. Then nature mana, it was everywhere in the surroundings, from the greatest mountains to the smallest pebble. Everything.

It was impossible for something not to have mana at all.

- ‘ Why is Lazarus different?’ -

Emelia felt she was wronged.

- ‘Perhaps--.. Elysia was wrong?’ -

The thought occurred again for the thousandth time since that encounter. Like all the times, Emilia immediately reached the very same conclusion.

- ‘Elysia couldn’t have made that mistake.... But what if she lied...?’-

Impossible.

Angels wouldn’t.

Actually, they couldn’t.

Just like how a human would never grow content, or how the elves would treasure nature, it was just natural and nobody questioned it. It was the very core nature of those races. And angels couldn’t lie as it would go against their very nature.

They may hide the truth or keep it to themselves entirely. However the fact remained that-....Angels just couldn’t lie.

But it was also true that Elysia’s verdict was the impossibility itself.

There was an undeniable truth that everything had mana. No exceptions. So why..? Why was Lazarus so different?

- ‘Perhaps it is my fault?’ -

Emilia felt her heart drop to her stomach.

Her chest tightened making it harder to breathe.

With a downcast gaze, Emilia embraced Lazarus.

Feeling his body’s warmth across her face, she then embraced him and tears began to flow from her cheeks to the blanket covering his body as she whispered into his ears and said “I’m so sorry”.

The carriage rattled on with no regard for the pain in her heart. Alone with Lazarus and the blinds all closed, it had become dark and gloomy inside. Why was it so cold? Why him of all people? Why had the world chosen to curse this one innocent child?

Pulling back a bit to gaze at his small features,

“!”

Emilia was shocked. The child had reached for her cheeks with both of his tiny little arms. His little blue eyes, staring at her. ‘Uhngyaa…~’

‘-Is he… trying to comfort me?-’ The guilt in her heart for making the child worry for her grew. His kind gesture was like someone carefully applying a soothing liniment to a palm covered in scrapes and bruises. They seeped into Emilia’s heart, and it surprised her.

Once again, she held him to her cheeks and said,

“No matter what… no matter what happens, I will always protect you, my dear Lazarus. I love you.”

This wasn’t the end… There was still hope.

Just before she’d left the Chapel, she remembered that Elysia, the Golden angel, called out to her and told her a few words.

If what Elysia said was true, then perhaps, there was still a chance for Lazarus….

--------------------------------------------------

A crimson red rug split the entire room in half from the doors to the throne while pointed banners with golden tapestries draped from the walls. Between each banner sits a shrine-like ornament covered in magical green glowing stones, none but a few have been lit and in turn illuminate the statues of lions below them.

Extensive windows are bordered by veils colored the same amber as the banners. The curtains have been adorned with embellished borders and jewels.

A ceremonious throne of oak sits below a grand chandelier and is adjoined by four almost identical seats for the royal highness' direct family. The throne is covered in baroque inscriptions

and fixed on each of the elegant armrests is a carved lion. The thin pillows are a light amber and these too have been adorned with embellished margins.

And the man who sat atop the throne was one of the mightiest of all in Valeria, one of the three great human Kings. That Arcane King, Veyron Valheart.

He was the very definition of a majestic and powerful ruler. His every moment commanded attention, his deep green eyes was stiff like a war general, his pale blond hair flowed to the back

like that of a swallow tails and his trimmed beard formed a perfect outline of his squared chin, emphasizing his imposing looks.

However his usual stiff expression was somewhat softened with the subtle smile that he seemed to be unconsciously sporting.

He wore a blue suit with a pair of parallel golden linings flowing like the ocean wave and criss crossing as it approached the hems. And at his back, was a simple white cape which bore a

symbol of the rising sun behind a mountain, formed by golden laces. This was the symbol of the Twilight Kingdom, the very image of the Twilight of Dawn.

From his expression, one could say that it was as if he was watching a very lively festival and he enjoyed every second that his son and daughter played with one another.

Yes… after all, today was a very special day to him. It was the divination day of his third son, Lazarus Valheart. Oh how his Kingly facade cracked at the very thought of what was to come.

His eyes turned to a young boy in front of him whose hair was a deeper, richer gold in contrast to his own, the child’s sky blue eyes perfectly complemented his hair, making for a very cute appearance. But despite his young age, people could already see that he’d grow up to be someone very handsome that would soon be the target for the affection of young maidens.

This was Clovis Valheart, his eldest son who was previdered to have a large mana pool. That in itself was quite a rarity given that most people would start with a near non-existent mana pool at birth and only grow to have an average mana pool when they reach adulthood.

And because he was still two years old and already had more mana than any average adult, he had already been considered a gifted child.

Mana pool was one with the body of the individual, needless to say, they grew larger as the person himself aged. Just thinking about Clovis’ potential when he grew up was nice, especially if he could brag about it.

Basically, he’d be a one man army himself. That was how powerful Clovis Valheart could come to be. His very own son. This had filled him with great pride. The nobles and fellow royalties all

had congratulated him, further inflating his already big ego.

He was envied, he was revered, he was respected. And now, he had Clovis. The thought made him snicker to himself.

Of all the intelligent races in Valeria, the human race was the weakest. And what they lacked in quality, they made up for quantity. That wasn’t to say that every human was inferior to the others as he himself was an exception.

Sometimes, in a one and a thousand chance, a human child could be born with a huge mana pool. But that chance only applied to couples with an already huge mana pool to begin with. If the couple were both of average birth, then the chances became slimmer, roughly going down to a one in a million chance.

Simply put, even if a couple bore a hundred children, it would be still unlikely that their children would inherit their mana pool.

That was how lucky Veyron Valheart had been. And so he took pride in his son, Clovis Valheart.

Then his eyes shifted to the girl beside Clovis who also possessed similar deep golden hair and was a bit smaller than Clovis.

She was cute, much like a doll. Her hair was lustrous and long reaching down to her waist. Her emerald green eyes were like glittering gemstones that possessed very endearing and mesmerizing charms. And as she’s still young, her looks tickled the protective instincts of those around her. No doubt, this cute young girl would one day grow up to be an outstanding beauty.

This was Anastasia Valheart who had also been said to possess roughly the same amount of mana pool as Clovis. That is to say, two of his offsprings were considered geniuses.

And because of this he had been lavished with unending praise from both the nobles and fellow royalties. The people themselves even considered the Valhearts to be the treasures of the

human race.

How lucky could he get?

Veyron let out a chuckle. Some maids who were awaiting attention by his side glanced at him with brows raised, but he ignored it. After all, he had won in life. Won at everything.

And to add to that fact, Veyron Valheart the ‘Arcane King’ was also born with a mana pool three times larger than what Clovis has now. Of course he didn’t expect that luck from his children as he was the only one human who even had this sort of mana in centuries.

And his beloved wife, although wasn’t gifted a large mana pool at birth, since she possessed the mana pool of an average person. She made up with her mana control. Mana control is considered to be just as important as the mana pool in a person.

Typically a normal person wasted a bit of mana during the conversion of mana to magic.

With a fireball spell exhausting the entire mana pool of an average guy if he casted about twenty of them, Then Emilia could do so as well, but with the same mana pool she could make a hundred.

How she does that, Veyron had no clue.

With that, he also took pride in his beloved wife who was both exceptional in combat as well as being an unparalleled beauty. He felt as if he had everything he could ever want.

The very thought that he had everything, simply made the pit of his stomach erupt in excitement.

Veyron straightened himself, to maintain an image of composure. He needed to look good.

After all, today was a very special day.

Yes, the day his third son would be divinified.

It might’ve been expecting too much if his luck would carry over for a third time. But still he couldn’t stop feeling this way. It was just a gut feeling. No--.. in fact, he was convinced

of it with absolute certainty.

The large double doors, the entrance to the throne room clicked open. A man in a blue coattail suit, the messenger, made his way in. Upon seeing the man, Veyron rested his chin at the

hilt of his palm, seemingly bored. A mask to conceal the excitement brimming in his heart as he had to maintain his kingly demaneor.

-- Finally..!

The corner of his lips arched slightly upward as the man bowed deeply.

“Speak.” He commanded.

Instead of announcing loudly that Lazarus was yet another genius like he’d envisioned. The messenger had made his way towards Veryon, and from the way the messenger looked back and forth between himself and the ground. He could immediately tell that something was

amiss.

“My Liege.. Uhmm... how do I say this? There were some.. complications? Or maybe-”

The way the messenger’s mouth opened and closed like that of a fish irritated Veyron.

“Speak more clearly.”

“Y-yes your highness. W-would it be alright if I whispered the news to your majesty?”

The maids looked at one another with arch brows. Veyron could sense them shift a bit uncomfortably which irritated him. He shot a glare to one of them and said,

“Leave.”

The maids bowed, then quietly left.

Clearly there was something wrong. The question now was, how wrong?

Veyron raised his chin, indicating that the man should continue.

“Then, please excuse me, your highness.”

The messenger went to Veyron’s side despite everyone having already left the room.

At this point there were several possibilities that Veyron pictured in his mind. And the most likely would be that his newborn son wasn’t a genius as he anticipated. All the energy left his

body. His mood turned sour and he unconsciously let out a deep sigh.

The messenger stopped, he thought that perhaps he did something that had displeased the king. But after the King glanced at him, he understood that this wasn’t the case and continued.

“The young prince, Lazarus Valheart-.....” He paused, swallowing a lump of air before he continued , “He-..he is claimed to be manaless.”

Said the messenger in a very hushed tone.

Veyron frowned. Then he looked at the messenger, who in turn nodded to his inquiring gaze as if to say that ‘I can’t believe it as well but it is the truth.’

-’Manaless? Was such a thing possible?’

Veyron felt as if a very sharp spear had punctured his heart. A torrent of emotions flowed from the hole that was punctured in his heart and he simply stared at the messenger, dumbfoundedly.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes my liege.”

Something hot seared through the back of Veyron’s head. His heart beat rapidly and he couldn’t understand what in the world he was feeling at all. He massaged his temples, trying to get the throbbing out of his head.

It was futile. Burning white hot rage seeped through the pit of his stomach and made his head throb in anger even more.

The messenger was nervously glancing at him but he stopped paying attention entirely.

There was a reason that he wanted three children, now that Lazarus was manaless, he needed to change his plan.

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