It was as if time itself had frozen. The massive, unblinking eyeball loomed over them, its gaze locked on Azriel and Joaquin, who stood unmoving.
“So, it’s returned. I couldn’t even sense it watching us. Oh… is it injured?”
Joaquin’s voice was low, his eyes narrowing as he observed the creature.
‘Tarshakael…’
Azriel’s expression darkened, feeling an ominous weight in the creature’s gaze. It held him as though trapped, his mind struggling to fully comprehend the entity before him.
It was simply an enormous eyeball, yet something moved beneath the dark, silent sea.
“Ah, so it must have fought something that threatened its territory,” Joaquin murmured, his face calm as he pieced together the events.
“This sea must be accessible to other titans, after all.”
Azriel’s face grew tense as he stared at the monstrous eye, while Joaquin let out a disappointed sigh.
“My friend, I wish I could keep my promise, but I’ve changed my mind… again. But don’t worry—I’ll be back. I am a man of my word.”
Azriel’s eyes shifted between Joaquin and the unmoving creature.
‘Did he just raincheck a titan?’
But there was no time to dwell on the thought. Suddenly, Joaquin was beside him, gripping his shoulder plate tightly. Before Azriel could react, a shadowy portal formed beneath them, ominous and cold, making his fingers tingle even through his gauntlets. Then, they began to sink.
He felt a sensation of drowning, like when he first entered the void dungeon. After a moment, he felt himself propelled forward, tumbling onto solid ground, landing with a jolt.
Azriel pushed himself up, blinking in disorientation. He found himself in a massive chamber, its walls marked with runes in the ancient void language. A dark doorway loomed nearby. Joaquin stood calmly, watching him recover.
Azriel cast a suspicious glance at Joaquin.
‘Couldn’t he have just teleported us there in the first place?’
Joaquin met his gaze, as if reading his thoughts.
“I can’t go to places I’ve never been. I knew this place, but that island? I’d never set foot there.”
“Oh,” Azriel muttered, nodding in understanding.
“It won’t attack us here, right?” he asked, unable to keep the worry from his voice.
Joaquin chuckled darkly.
“Attack? No. It’s territorial, yes, but only if we left the sunken islands for the dark sea.”
Azriel exhaled, relief mingling with the lingering tension. Then, he looked at Joaquin, his face serious.
“Dad, there’s something I need to tell you. Something important.”
Joaquin’s face hardened slightly, sensing Azriel’s seriousness.
Azriel took a breath, meeting his father’s gaze.
“…I think I am a titan magnet.”
“…”
For a beat, silence hung in the air. Joaquin stared at him, his face blank.
“What?”
Azriel shrugged, but there was a weight in his expression.
“It has to be. I’ve run into more titan-ranked void creatures than anything else.”
Joaquin considered this, a mix of concern and something else—maybe pride. But in the end, he just clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder.
“Best of luck, son.”
Azriel blinked at his father’s dry support, then sighed, turning toward the ruins. Joaquin’s gaze followed, resting on the inscriptions lining the walls.
“These runes…” Joaquin mused.
“Void archaeologists have been trying to decipher them, yet not a single word has been translated. And I’ve still promised them a reward… not that they’re even working alone anymore.”
But Azriel’s attention had drifted, his eyes widening as he stared at the runes.
‘I… I can read this!?’
The translation flowed effortlessly into his mind, as if it had always been there.
Even Lumine, with his system, couldn’t decode the void language.
‘This must be exclusive to me… as the son of death.’
A thrill bubbled up in him.
‘I could make a fortune with this skill!’
He did his best to hide his excitement. Joaquin noticed his odd expression and gave him a questioning look.
“Something wrong?”
Azriel cleared his throat.
“No… just reading the runes.”
“…”
“…”
“You’re reading?”
“Yes.”
“The void language?”
“Yes.”
Joaquin’s eyebrow twitched.
“…The fuck…”
The curse slipped from his lips, disbelief etched across his face. Azriel blinked innocently, as if wondering what was wrong.
Joaquin let out a weary sigh, rubbing his temples.
“And how, exactly, are you reading the void language?”
Azriel allowed himself a slight smile.
“I studied it. Any time I got the chance, I tried to learn whatever I could before you know what.”
Joaquin’s eyes widened slightly in surprise.
“I never knew you could read the Void language…”
It seemed his son had been harboring secrets long before he was even supposed to be dead.
And Joaquin… he wasn’t sure how to feel about that.
Watching Azriel’s gaze linger on the runes again, Joaquin felt a pressing urge to ask.
“What does it say?”
A simple question, yet one carrying a weight of its own—revealing Azriel’s potential and capabilities. If experienced Void archeologists couldn’t decipher these runes, yet Azriel could… then his value was on an entirely different level.
But then Joaquin’s face hardened. He looked at Azriel with narrowed, dangerous eyes.
Azriel had spent two years in the Void Realm—only he and the gods knew what he had seen there. If he could read the Void language, it meant he might have uncovered truths he wasn’t meant to know.
A swirl of thoughts stormed through Joaquin’s mind; he knew this just became far more delicate—and dangerous.
Then Azriel’s voice cut through his thoughts, low, dark, and laced with something unsettling.
“I saw it. When I saw it, my soul cracked open. I cried until my body felt hollow. But then—then I smiled, because what else was left? I loved it too, or thought I did. Maybe we all did.”
“….”
“It simply… stood there, hovering in the air like one of them—yet it wasn’t. It was a thing beyond, a mockery of their purity, a blasphemy born of something darker. It was me, reflected, twisted. It was my king. It was everyone I’d ever known. And as I stared at it, I realized it wasn’t that it cried, smiled, or loved in the way we did. No, its tears washed away entire lives, flooding villages, seeping into every crack and crevice of this world like an infection. Its smile—oh, that smile—broke the land itself, splitting it open like a wound that would never heal.
And its love? Its love consumed everything. It was a love that crushed bones, snapped spines, sank ships and lands, and pulled everything we held dear into a void from which nothing would return. A love that wrapped itself around us like a snake.”
“….”
“And then… I, Artelius, was the only one left to laugh, to frown, and… to hate. To laugh at the tears, frown upon the smile, and… hate the one who should have died yet defied it.”
When Azriel finished, he fell silent, his gaze locked on the runes, matching Joaquin’s.
This discovery… these words…
“Dad…”
When he called out, Joaquin turned to look at him. But Azriel felt an involuntary shiver at the sight of his father’s face—utterly void of emotion, almost as if a mask had fallen over it.
Then Joaquin spoke, his voice cold and ruthless.
“Do not speak of this to anyone. Not your sister. Not your mother.”
Azriel didn’t argue. Somehow, he couldn’t even imagine it. Right now, he just wanted to get out of there.
He never would have thought that a few ancient words could make him feel so… unsettled.
‘Artelius…’
Just the act of thinking that name felt like a weight pressing down on his shoulders.
“Let’s go up. We’ve spent enough time here,” Joaquin said, his tone less cold, but Azriel obeyed without a word. freewebnσvel.cѳm
But…
The moment Azriel tried to take a step forward, his vision blurred. Exhaustion hit him like a wave, and he staggered back. Before he could fall, he felt his father’s arms catch him, steady and firm, with a look of concern in his eyes.
“Your mana is drained… it must be from whatever you did with the tree. Rest. I won’t let anything harm you.”
Azriel’s vision swam as he looked up, his father’s face becoming a blur. He felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier.
But before sleep could claim him, Azriel gritted his teeth, fighting the exhaustion as he looked at Joaquin with a trace of desperation.
“Wait, Dad… your life. I-I came here because your life was in danger. Please… be careful.”
Hearing his words, Joaquin only smiled warmly.
“A king’s life is one of constant danger. You don’t need to worry; this old man can handle anything. Now, get some rest… you’ve done enough, my son.”
Like a command, Azriel’s eyes closed, his consciousness slipping away as he finally gave in to sleep.
*****
As Joaquin looked down at his son, sleeping in his arms with a troubled expression, a pang of guilt crept into his chest.
‘He hasn’t had a proper rest since the Void Dungeon…’
A sigh escaped his lips as his gaze drifted back to the runes. His eyes grew colder, matching the chill of the deepest, bleakest places in the realm. But after a moment, he looked away, back at his son, still clad in the soul armor.
“Dismissing it would drain his mana, and I’d rather not wake him…”
Another sigh escaped him, but then he frowned.
“He said my life was in danger… but how did he know?”
It was as if Azriel always knew things he had no way of knowing, as if he were privy to secrets no one his age should carry.
Joaquin’s gaze softened as he studied Azriel’s face—a face that seemed incapable of harm.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured quietly.
“I won’t make the same mistake again.”