"Is that it? Is my coming of age ceremony over?" Reivan asked as they walked across the castle's halls, leaving the portal to the Outlands far behind.

Everybody was back to their usual attire since they were in a relatively safer place now. Including Reivan, who'd even changed into a clean set of clothes.

"There's more." Rodin grinned as he led the group. "Don't you want a Soul Armament?"

"Oh!" the young prince's eyes widened. "I almost forgot about that!"

"Don't just forget about the coolest part of your coming of age," Roland quipped.

"Don't try to infect your brother with your nerdiness for Soul Armaments." Stella rolled her eyes.

"After this, you'll finally be allowed to learn how to fight, Rein. You'll be able to beat up hundreds of those low-class nightmares." Vianna ruffled her son's hair as they walked. "How excited are you?"

"Very!" Reivan pumped his fists.

'Finally! Let's go~!'

The young prince reveled in joy and anticipation.

But this didn't last long.

After he finished celebrating in his mind, his curiosity took over.

"Uh, where do you get Soul Armaments, by the way?"

"Well, ordinary folk will need the presence of someone from the current royal family while they undergo a ceremony in the Sword Sanctum, which is located on top of the mountain behind the castle," Rodin explained. "But the current royal family members don't need to do any of that. All they have to do is touch a Royal Armament, which is what our — I, Roland, and your — Soul Armaments are called."

"Huh?" Reivan's brows furrowed. "Then couldn't I have gotten one way earlier than now? I didn't need to be ten years old at all!"

'And it would've been a huge help when I was fighting that thing!'

Rodin chuckled. "That's true. But why would I allow a child who shouldn't be learning combat techniques to wield a weapon?"

"Guh..." the young prince groaned.

"Furthermore, you want more boons for your trial?" the king huffed for some reason that Reivan didn't understand. "I already looked the other way when you pulled out other weapons that I didn't provide..."

"Th-then...!" Reivan interjected, sensing that there he would lose the argument anyway. "Since I'm allowed to have one now, can't you just give it to me now?"

"You're so impatient..." the king shook his head in exasperation. "There is a time and place for everything. Just because you can defecate in the middle of the street, doesn't mean that that's the place where you should do it."

"Defecate..." the boy echoed unconsciously.

"Rodin, why use such a disgusting example?" Vianna frowned, pinching her husband's waist.

"Ah- ow! I'm just trying to get the point across!" Rodin swatted away the ruthless hand, massaging the doubtlessly reddened skin underneath his clothes. "These things are usually done in the throne room, Rein. You've never been there since we don't really use it that often. Ever since the Empire swallowed up all the countries in the Sentorale Continent other than Aizen and Arkhan, which was around 1500 years ago."

Roland nodded before adding to the explanation. "Now we just use it for knighting ceremonies and when royals activate their Soul Armaments."

"I remember getting knighted there myself a few years back. Oh, I'll never see a more magnificent place like that. With that said... it must be an absolute pain to clean... it's only a little smaller than the great hall after all." Stella shook her head as a look of pity crossed her face. "Though I suppose that's why there're so many servants and maids here."

"W-we pay them well, so it's fine." Rodin awkwardly cleared his throat as he fidgeted with his collar.

Reivan kept his impatience to himself as he followed behind the adults while listening to their idle conversations. It didn't take long before they stood in front of large, ornate double doors as tall as a three-story building. The doors were mostly silver in color, with gilded linings and golden wolf motifs carved onto them.

"We're here." Rodin waved his hand casually in the air, which was followed by a series of mechanical clicking noises that came from within the doors. After hundreds of clinks and clanks, the doors to the throne room finally began to open, giving Reivan a peek at what lay within.

The throne room was a large hall with alabaster pillars along the borders, each one had a large glass orb that illuminated the entire room. Illustrations of valorous knights fighting against demons and dragons adorned the arched ceiling that looked down on the granite floor.

A sapphire-colored carpet splits the entire room in half from the entrance to the throne as curtains of the same color frame stained glass windows featuring the faces of ferocious wolves. Both the carpet and the curtains were garnished with golden leaves and gilded linings.

At the center of a large platform, a towering throne of marble sits adjoined by four equally lavish seats for the royal majesty's family members. The throne was covered in nothing but blue runes that glowed softly. Fixed on each of the elegant armrests is a gemmed wolf head, its maw opened to reveal rows of razor-sharp fangs. Soft blue pillows assure that the royal sitting on them would have no trouble doing so for hours, and these too were embellished with golden margins.

Those wishing to listen to their king may do so on the several gilded and otherwise extravagant granite benches, all of which are facing the throne in rows. As for those of higher standing, they can instead take seats in the embellished balconies overlooking the hall.

It was a throne room that would inspire either fear or awe in those who saw it. And the impression would be intensified to those who'd gaze upon it for the first time.

Except for one person.

'Well, what can I say? It looks like a pretty generic throne room...'

Perhaps the magic of seeing such a magnificent sight was reduced by just how many luxurious throne rooms Reivan saw in manga, games, anime, and movies in his life as Ken Kagami. Aizen's throne room was definitely the best amongst all he saw, and it was also the only one he was ever able to visit in person, but he still wasn't as impressed as he'd wanted.

"Hm?" Rodin gave his son a strange look when he noticed the young prince's lackluster expression. "What? Are you not amazed...?"

"Ah, well." Reivan scratched his cheek awkwardly. He cleared his throat and feigned excitement as he beamed. "It's great! I was just a bit stunned. That's all."

You have used [Essence of Falsehood]

"I see." the king nodded in understanding. His chest puffed out as he spread his arms. "Everyone gets dazed in awe when they first see this place. I know I did!"

"Yeah, me too." Roland chuckled wistfully as his head turned this way and that, looking around the grand throne room. "Well, it's supposed to be that way. Part of the throne room's purpose is to show off our national power."

"Well, it definitely worked. I felt my loyalty jump up when I got knighted here." Stella bobbed her head as she recalled the events of five years ago. "Though it was already pretty high from the start. And now, I'm the future queen!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Roland waved off his wife's proud boasting, opting to point at one of the posh seats atop the platform. "Rein, that one's yours. It's right next to Mother's seat. Naturally, it was due to her personal request."

"That's a given." Vianna ruffled Reivan's hair lovingly. "Naturally, my baby has to stay near his mother."

"Don't call me a baby..." Reivan muttered wryly. "I'm ten years old!"

"It doesn't matter if you're ten, a hundred, or a thousand years old!" she pinched her son's little nose. "You'll be my baby forever!"

"That sounds horrible."

The family of five joked around as they strolled towards the other end of the hall. Their laughter and bantering echoed against the extravagantly carved walls.

Once they finally made it to their destination, other than Reivan, they each sat down in their assigned spots. Rodin, the king, sat on the majestic throne in the middle, with Vianna to his right and Roland to his left. Reivan's seat was to Vianna's right as Stella sat on Roland's left.

"Now..." Rodin settled himself on the throne as he summoned his Soul Armament. It took the form of an ornate sword as he stabbed it into the stone floor in front of him. "Go ahead and touch it."

Reivan excitedly dashed forward like a child on Christmas eve, seeing the presents under the tree. He stood on his tiptoes as his tiny fist wrapped around the sword's hilt.

Vianna couldn't help but whisper to her husband when she saw this. "Shouldn't you have made the sword a little shorter...?"

"I forgot..." Rodin murmured a reply as he awkwardly scratched his cheek.

"We really have to talk later, okay?" the warbeast woman snarled, her fangs bared.

"I'm sorry!" the king whispered loudly.

The young prince couldn't be bothered to notice his parents' muttered exchange, since the moment his skin made contact with the Soul Armament, he was surrounded by countless specks of light, spiraling around his body like a tornado.

But the fantastic festival of starlight wasn't what captured his full attention.

It was the barrage of semi-transparent screens in front of his eyes.

You have connected to the world of [Armenios]! One of its denizens wishes to make a contract with you! The denizen has recognized that you are part of the current royal family's main bloodline! The denizen is undergoing an evolution! You are unable to refuse the contract! The [Contract] is established! You've been bestowed an Extra Skill! The Armament Spirit's existence is revealed to you! Name: None Species: Armenian (Royal Armament Spirit) Realm: Mortal Age: Cannot Be Calculated Sex: N/A Might: 300 Special Abilities: [Royal Decree] [Soul Parasitism] Elemental Affinities: [Metal] [Darkness] [Lightning] [Ice] Extra Skills: [Armament Energy Manipulation]

[Release: Soul Armament]

[Contract: Reivan Aizenwald]

'Soul Parasitism...? That doesn't sound too good.'

Reivan's forehead wrinkled in worry. Wasn't every single member of his new family contracted with one of these? Did that mean all of them had their souls parasitized?

Special Ability:

[Soul Parasitism]

A [Special Ability] that all Armenians possess.

Allows this unit to latch onto a soul, through a [Contract].

Once attached, this unit's [Realm] will advance in tandem with their contractor.

There is no way to sever the connection.

This unit may exist in a dormant state within the soul of their contractor.

This unit can revive and heal infinitely, as long as their contractor stays alive.

Note: There are no negative effects for the contractor.

'Oh. So it's not a bad thing.' Reivan heaved a sigh of relief, but also inwardly cursed at how misleading the name was. He also found the lack of a [Chaos] affinity strange, but he just chalked it up to how special the affinity is.

The young prince was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of his father clearing his throat.

"Seeing the look on your face, it seems that you've used your special ability on the Soul Armament. You've probably gleaned things that even we do not know. However, we can leave that for later." Rodin tapped the sword in front of him. "One's Soul Armament obtains the same elemental affinities as their master with addition to the [Metal] affinity, and their master is immediately aware of what their Soul Armament's affinities are. Since you are Vianna's child, you must at least have the [Ice] affinity."

Roland, ever the nerd when it came to Soul Armaments, excitedly continued in Rodin's place. "Usually, it takes a large amount of effort before someone is able to figure out what all their affinities are, especially since you need a certain amount of mana control before you can use the kinesis abilities attached to affinities. But with Soul Armaments, we are easily able to find out what our elemental affinities are!"

"Tsk tsk." Vianna wagged her finger in the air, her nose raised up high in pride. "Ice isn't the only affinity Rein has! Did you forget that he had a bunch of other affinities?"

Reivan smiled as he confirmed her words. "Yes. In addition to metal, mine has ice, darkness, and lightning. It has a special ability called [Royal Decree] as well..."

"Goodness. And I thought I was well-off for having two affinities." Stella shook her head in exasperation before muttering to herself. "And everybody's just treating this as if it were normal..."

"Seems about right." Rodin nodded in satisfaction. "That's an ability that prevents those with ordinary Soul Armaments from betraying those who wield Royal Armaments. It's why we have absolute trust towards our knights, but not the maids, servants, and ministers."

'What? So it's not just because they're super loyal...?'

Seeing through his thoughts, Rodin cleared his throat once again and amended what he'd just said. "Perhaps I worded that incorrectly, or I didn't explain well enough. Let me clarify. In order to obtain a Soul Armament, one must already have high loyalty to the royal family, in addition to a sufficient amount of strength. Unlike how we — ones who are born into the royal family — cannot refuse a Royal Armament's contract, ordinary people contracting with Soul Armaments can. So every knight entered eternal servitude willingly. We didn't force anybody into this, okay?"

"I-I see..." Reivan cleared his throat, fixing his expression into a 'natural' smile. "It's not like I had doubts or anything..."

You have used [Essence of Falsehood]

"I don't think I believe you," Rodin blankly replied. "It's alarming how believable your lies are. Is it really just because of your special ability? It feels like you're too used to this..."

'Shit. My skill whiffed! And now Father thinks I'm hella sus!'

Thankfully, his mother came to his rescue almost immediately.

"It isn't all that strange when everybody's been hiding things from him all his life." Vianna shrugged it off. "Being secretive is just a few steps away from being deceptive."

"Hmmm..." Rodin tapped his chin in thought for a moment, then nodded. "I suppose that's true." He looked at Reivan with an apologetic gaze. "I apologize for hiding so many things from you, even though I thought it was all for your own good. In hindsight, being so obviously dishonest isn't something a parent should do."

Reivan inwardly heaved a sigh of relief as his lips formed a warm smile. "It's okay, Father. I know you only did what's best for me. What matters is that I'm allowed to know everything from now on. I don't like feeling left out."

"Of course." The king smirked. "You will come to know about them whether you want to or not. Even if you are only ten years old, I will start assigning certain tasks to you, as well as exposing you to politics and management. It's not all about fighting, which judging from earlier, is something you seem to enjoy."

"Can't I skip those...?" The young prince's brows furrowed. "Besides, big bro's the one who'll become king. I'll just be a knight. Or a general. I don't wanna be king."

'I'm the person who gave up learning about running the family business and indulged in otaku culture instead, y'know? I'm not good at using my head!'

"You can't," Roland answered in the place of his father. "If I die, you'll have to be king."

"You won't die, big brother. So it's okay."

"While I appreciate your trust in my luck, the possibility is always there. We have to do dangerous things sometimes."

"Then we'll let your children inherit the throne instead." Reivan countered with a cheeky smirk. "Since you're married now, you'll be pumping out some kids soon."

"H-how in the...!?" The elder prince's eyes widened in shock.

"I read it in a children's book," The younger prince replied with the answer he'd prepared beforehand. "I know that when a boy and a girl get married, they get kids afterward!"

"Oh..." Roland felt speechless at first, but then bobbed his head in acceptance of his sibling's childish answer.

"Unfortunately, we won't be 'getting a kid' for a while, since I plan to make attempts at ascension." Stella chimed in, a strained smile on her face. "Though I don't mind practicing how to make one..."

"S-Stella...!" The newlywedded husband's shoulders jumped in fright as he rushed to cover his wife's mouth.

'Wait, what...? Big sis is gonna try to ascend already? But isn't she still in her twenties...? Mother didn't ascend till she was in her eighties! Wasn't Mother supposed to be super talented?'

Curious, Reivan used his [Supreme Insight] to inspect his sister-in-law.

Name: Stella Mercer Species: Human Realm: Mortal Age: 22 Sex: Female Favor: (Fondness / Loyalty / Familial) 94 / 100 Threat Level: N / A (This unit has no desire to harm you. Ever.) Might: 1199 Special Abilities: NONE Elemental Affinities: [Lightning] [Wind] Extra Skills: [Qi: Unleashed] [Limit Break] [Keen Intuition]

'Holy shit. It's true. Mother doesn't even have that last extra skill! She has about the same Might when Mother ascended.'

While he was inwardly wondering if it was really that easy to gain eternal life, his Mother sighed in admiration.

"The human race's speed when it comes to advancing realms never fails to amaze me..." Vianna rested her cheek on her palm as she looked at the young woman with a trace of envy. "Although I didn't get to train a whole lot when I was younger, what with being chased out of our home and everything, but even I wouldn't have had any chances of ascending in my twenties."

"Don't give us too much credit..." Rodin spoke as a strained smile crossed his face. "That only applies to those with immense talents. Most humans still take decades to even get a glimpse of a chance at ascension. And that's if they have all the time in the world to train and whatnot."

"It's all because Lady Vianna taught me so well!" Stella gazed at the queen with sparkling eyes, filled with gratitude and admiration. "I'm always motivated to improve!"

"Oh, you..." Vianna reached fanned her face as she looked away.

'So it's cuz Mother taught her...'

It was the power of a fangirl, he supposed. Still, Reivan couldn't help but feel exasperated with how insanely fast Stella's improvement was.

'As expected of Helen's relative, I guess?'

He'd already told his father about Helen's cosmic stamp of approval with regards to talent. At the moment, Reivan didn't know what plans his father had to take full advantage of it, however. If Stella's growth was proof enough of how horrifying a talented person can shoot up the ranks of power, then Helen would surely surpass her.

'Seriously...? Is she gonna end up as a teenage ascendant?'

Helen? The girl whose greatest skill was significantly reducing the planet's food resources? That Helen?

The thought lit a spark underneath Reivan's butt.

If he slacked off, Helen would leave him far behind.

'That... sounds horrible.'

He'd been treating her as a kind of little sister or a pet, but then she'll grow to have the power to throw him around effortlessly?

It was just like that time with Kyouka. He felt irked by the idea of Helen surpassing him in something. As the elder sibling, he didn't want to lose.

So, in addition to finding a way to revive his past life's family, taking care of Roland's mental health so that he doesn't get taken over by his [Alter Ego], watching out for Hector's psyche, and living happily with his family, Reivan added "not losing to Helen" as one of his eternal tasks.

That said, he'd have to train his ass off just to keep up with such a monster. Although, no amount of training could ever help him beat her in an eating contest. At least when it came to combat, he didn't want the gap to get so large, that he wouldn't be able to win with the help of his special abilities.

Seeing his son lose himself in thought again, Rodin cleared his throat for the umpteenth time.

"Well then, let's move on to the final part."

Reivan shook his head of his thoughts and looked at his father with a face twisted in annoyance. "It's not done yet?"

"I said it's the final part. Just bear with me." The king chuckled before raising his hand. "Bring him in."

Just a few seconds after his father's command, two ascendant knights slowly — not slow for an ascendant, but slow even for an ordinary person — flew into the throne room.

'Is that a... person?'

Reivan's brows furrowed in confusion as he watched the two knights carry a man by his arms.

'Yikes. That's a face even a mother wouldn't love...'

Needless to say, the man was hideous. Brown hair, damp with what seemed like sweat, veiled a face covered in warts. The man's nose looked far too large for his face, and the stubble on his face did not improve his impression in the slightest.

Gaunt cheeks, thin arms, and sunken eyes revealed all one needed to know about the man's usual living conditions.

The man seemed to have poor luck in the genetics department and the wealth department. The rags he wore reinforced this fact.

""Your Majesty."" The two knights stood in the air and greeted their liege with crisp salutes before unceremoniously dropping the man they'd accosted. There was an audible crack of bones as his body became acquainted with the floor.

"Aargh!" The man howled in pain, cradling his broken legs as he writhed around at the foot of the elevated platform. He tried to crawl up the stairs, but the tips of his fingers suddenly started turning into stone, spreading up his arm. Staring at the horrifying sight, the man wailed a desperate plea. "Ahh! S-stop, please have mercy!"

One of the knights replied indignantly. "Filth shouldn't stain the steps of this sacred hall."

"That's enough," Rodin commanded as he sat atop his throne. "You might accidentally kill him. Though I'm sure you're skilled enough not to make such a mistake."

"This humble one obeys."

Immediately after the knight answered, the petrification areas stopped expanding. The man's sigh of relief came too early, however, as his earthen arm fell to the ground and shattered into countless specks of dust.

The man began to shriek in agony, but instead of echoing across the large hall, no sound came out of his mouth.

'What the...'

Reivan's eyes squinted when he noticed something. There was what looked like still air forming a bubble around the man's body.

That was when he realized why the sound of the man's screams didn't make it to them.

Included in what little scientific knowledge Reivan had was the understanding that sound traveled by causing vibrations in the air.

'So by preventing the air from vibrating, one can also prevent sound from escaping...'

The source of the supernatural phenomena was revealed by his father's words.

"Thank you, Stella." Rodin thanked his daughter-in-law with a smile on his face.

"Oh, it's nothing. I don't find listening to screams enjoyable, and I believe nobody else does either, so I went ahead and did it." Stella humbly smiled back and waved her hand, which was enveloped by a green aura. "This is but a parlor trick."

"Good work! My ears don't find screaming pleasant either." Vianna beamed and gave her a thumbs-up, a gesture she learned from her son.

"Thank you! Lady Vianna!" Stella's attitude did an immediate 180-degree-turn as her cheeks became flushed. "I can even snuff him out by stealing all the air in his lungs if you want!"

"Please don't do that." Roland retorted, softly tapping his wife's forehead. He turned toward his father and urged him to continue.

"Well, Rein. The last part of your ceremony is relatively simple." Rodin casually pointed at the man, writhing on the floor far below them. "You just have to use your Royal Armament to slay that man."

It took a moment for Reivan to fully process his father's words. But when he finally did, his arms quivered in reluctance.

On one hand, he had to do this to fulfill his duties as a member of the royal family, but on the other hand, he was hesitant to kill an actual person.

As someone who'd quite literally lost his, he knew the value of life more than most.

He was aware of the possibility that he may have to kill someone eventually, seeing as he lived in a world where human rights might be treated as a joke by most. But he always treated that as something his future self would handle.

Unfortunately, that future was now his present.

It seemed he would have to make a choice.

"Manifesting it isn't actually that hard, once you've formed the contract," Rodin explained, paying no heed to his son's uncertainty. "You only need to want it to appear, and it shall."

Still a bit dazed, Reivan followed his father's instructions. He simply wanted a short sword to appear in his hand, and it did. As if it was there from the start.

There was no fanfare, no explosions of light or smoke, and no magical-girl transformation sequences.

It just materialized out of thin air.

"..." Reivan gazed at the sword's razor-sharp blade as his trembling hands tightened around its hilt. His quaking aside, the sword felt like it belonged to his hand, and its weight matched what he could swing. "Hm?"

From the middle of his chest, something warm began to flow into his body. The unknown energy rushed across his insides, stimulating areas he never knew could be stimulated.

"What the..." Reivan's eyes widened as power surged through his muscles.

The nameless Armenian is using [Armament Energy Manipulation]! The energy courses through your soul's pathways!

The Armenian's Might stat is added to your own! Might: 18 → 318

'Woah...' He couldn't help but gape at how much his stat had raised. Even if Helen had ten [Overdrive]s, she still wouldn't be able to compare to him. 'Oh, wait. Could she? I'm so bad at math...'

Reivan's foolish thoughts managed to reduce his anxiety, but only by a bit. Biting his lip in nervousness, he thought about how his father wouldn't allow him to delay any longer.

His mind a bit clearer, the young prince decided to ask his father some questions. After all, this was a ceremony to test out members of the royal family.

If the fight with the nightmare spawn was supposed to be a test of his natural combat abilities or something, then naturally, there had to be a reason why he was being asked to kill this man.

'I mean... the only reason can't possibly be because he's really ugly, right?'

Of course, Rodin wouldn't answer him if he just asked outright, so Reivan had to question his father roundaboutly, and decide what the purpose of this part of the ceremony is by using the information he got.

"Father, can you tell me more about this man?" Reivan posited, doing his best to hide the tremor in his voice.

"Hoh...?" The king raised an eyebrow and smiled before nodding. "Very well."

Rodin took out a thin stack of papers from his spacial ring. He looked down and then began reading from the front page.

"Hakken, son of Rekkon. Born and raised in the Magitechnocratic Republic of Arkhan. Thirty-four years old. Divorced thrice. Seven children, all girls."

Flip...

"Wanted by the Arkhan's spirit tower for one count of trespassing."

Flip...

"Wanted by the Republic itself, for..." He paused to count something. "seventeen counts of rape, including his daughters and wives."

Flip...

"As well as... thirty-eight counts of murder, including his daughters and wives."

Flip...

"Also... oh, wow. This is a lot." He paused again, taking a lot longer this time. "seventy-seven counts of kidnapping. Some women. Mostly girls."

Flip...

"He's also wanted for smuggling, sedition against the republic, possible illegal drug trafficking, and finally... confirmed human trafficking."

'Holy shit...' Reivan couldn't help but curse inwardly at the long list of crimes. Although the man looked like a low-life, Reivan wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt. After all, that quote about not judging book covers was so overused, most people from modern earth probably knew of it.

But it seems in this case, the cover told the entire story.

Flip...

Rodin ignored his son's stunned silence, flipping the page once again and continuing to read things aloud.

"Was found and arrested in Aizen's soil. Apparently, his warts are artificial. He also looks quite a bit different from usual, since he's been living in Arkhanian sewers for a while. Any images of him are quite outdated, which is why immigration was a day late in realizing that a criminal got in."

Flip...

"Mr. Hekker, while disguised as a beggar, attempted a crime in our capital. Fortunately, or rather, due to his foolishness in doing that in our capital, he was quickly discovered by an off-duty ascendant knight who was taking his family out for ice cream."

'Lol. Idiot.'

"It would've been different if he was a citizen of Aizen, but seeing as he's not, he is sentenced to execution without a trial." Rodin placed the stack of papers on his lap and looked up, gazing at his son. "And you get to do it."

"I-I see..." Reivan's neck creaked as he nodded. He used [Formless Will] to move his Royal Armament across the air, noting how much easier it seemed to move it compared to the enchanted short sword.

Despite no sound making it into Hekker's ears, the stares he got from the surrounding people made it apparent what his fate would be. Tears ran down his face as he pleaded in vain.

"..." The young prince's forehead wrinkled as he looked at the human filth begging for mercy below. No matter how much he was disgusted by Hekker's crimes and agreed that the man deserved a gruesome death, that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to be the one to do it.

The blade — slowly rotating beside him — was ready to shoot across the room and plunge itself into the man's skull. It only needed a single command from him.

One command. And the man would die.

"It seems you're still hesitating?" Rodin asked, his voice carrying a trace of warmth, instead of the disappointment or anger that Reivan expected.

'Oh... wait, am I not supposed to kill him...?'

His father's tone told him all he needed to know. He inwardly sighed in relief, confident that he now knew the correct answer.

'This is probably one of those trials where you're not meant to do what they tell you to do! There's probably some sort of lesson here that I'm supposed to learn!'

Reivan was sure of it.

'I'm so fucking smart. Damn. Sometimes, I scare myself. Yeesh!'

"Yes, Father." Reivan put on a pitiful expression. He was in his element now. Acting was his forte. "I'm sorry for letting you down..."

"Hm~ I see." Rodin smiled in amusement as he picked up the stack of paper again. He looked down and flipped it to the last page.

Flip...

"What if I tell you that the crime Mr. Hekker attempted was kidnapping?"

"Kidnapping...?" Reivan echoed unconsciously.

"Yes. Using a bag of sweets, he attempted to lure away a ten-year-old girl named..."

Rodin looked up and turned the paper stack forward, letting Reivan see.

'Huh...?"

The young prince's mind blanked out when he saw the image on the paper. After all, he knew the person on it very well.

It was his very good friend. The girl who could fit a cow in her stomach. His little sister-cum-pet.

"Helen Mercer."

Your overwhelming willpower has activated Sub-Skill #2 - [Intent]! [Intent] has temporarily changed into [Killing Intent]!

[Formless Will] is momentarily enhanced! A savage aura of malice surrounds you!

All weaker entities are paralyzed with fear. Cold fury fills your bones!

Hesitation for inflicting harm upon others is nullified. Your eyes glimmer with rage!

While in combat with the objects of your hatred:

Might +100%! Y—

Reivan ignored the annoying things in front of him. To him, the only thing that existed was him and the filth in front of him. His eyes flashed with golden light as he turned toward the target of his wrath.

Boom!

His Royal Armament shot across the air, creating a sonic boom as it shattered the sound barrier.

Then the sword multiplied.

Sixteen blades of equal length plunged into the hateful creature's flesh, turning it into a pincushion.

Its screams were drowned out by the wet sound of flesh being violently churned by steel and the cracking of bones as its limbs were twisted in various directions.

After the blades did their work, the mangled corpse was raised into the air as Reivan's eyes glared at it.

It wasn't enough.

His heart still screamed for more.

The heap of flesh that was once a man then began to form a ball of meat, becoming smaller and smaller until it no longer could.

'Zorous! Wake the fuck up!'

Sensing his fury, the archon fragment that slept within him jumped awake and materialized, showing off its majestic form.

No longer the tiny serpent it once was, Zorous — who was now longer and larger than any train in the modern world — opened its mouth and breathed out a plume of purple smoke, melting the orb of flesh into nothingness.