Adam stood in the open space, the only living thing left after the slaughter.
He was calm. Too calm.
He lifted his hand once more and let the Oblivion Field expand. It washed over everything—ground, walls, bodies, weapons—erasing the entire slave center in a silent wave. No dust, no rubble, no pieces. Everything vanished like it was never there.
When the field retracted, Adam blinked.
Memories he didn't own poured straight into his head. Names. Faces. History. Borders. Empires. The Academy system. Talent guilds. City rankings. Currency. Nobles. Merchants. Royals. Laws. Forbidden zones. Beast lands. Everything.
It took seconds.
And then he knew this world better than the people who lived in it.
He exhaled slowly. "So that's how it is."
If he was one of those main characters from the novels he read back on Earth, he would've been screaming by now:
'I need to get stronger!'
'I must join the Academy!'
'If I work hard, I'll prove them wrong!'
Adam scoffed. "Idiots."
He rubbed his forehead like he had a headache. "Imagine starving, suffering, and still running to school like a dog. Couldn't be me."
If it was left to him, he would wipe the idea of academies off the map. The whole system felt stupid. People begging for recognition from a building.
The system picked the perfect moment to speak.
[You can do that, Master. Just say the word and all schools will cease to exist.]
Adam stopped walking.
A slow smile crawled across his face.
"Don't tempt me," he whispered.
He could end every school on the planet in one breath. The idea alone felt nice. Too nice.
But he forced the thought down. "Relax. Let them have their education. People get weird when you remove the little things they enjoy."
[As you wish.]
Adam shook his head, still amused. "I'm not that diabolical. Yet."
He looked ahead, eyes narrowing.
The Academy path was out of the question. He refused to sit in a classroom being taught by someone weaker than him. And the idea of hiding in the Academy like other MCs was disgusting.
He stretched his arms, feeling the faint hum of Nonexistence around him.
"I'm going to the Capital."
The system remained quiet, letting him think.
Adam continued talking anyway. "This world runs on hierarchy. Talent, nobility, ranks, powerhouses… all that nonsense. And up there in the Capital is the Emperor, the nobles, the big names, the arrogant fools who think they're untouchable."
He smirked to himself.
"I don't like the idea of someone holding that much power unless it's me."
He pointed to his chest with his thumb. "Only one person gets to sit at the top."
His voice lowered, almost playful.
"So either I take this world… or I destroy it."
He turned and began walking toward the distant horizon.
His footsteps were light.
The world beneath them shook.
Imperion was loud today.
Not chaotic… just alive in a way the city only got during royal events.
The streets were full, people gathered in clusters, talking in excited voices like they'd been waiting for this moment all their lives.
"Today is the coming of age of princess Elizabeth," a woman said, eyes bright. "Too bad we can't go see her in the Center."
Her friend clicked her tongue. "As if anyone from the Outer Ring gets close to that place. Just be happy House Astryon is going to project it. At least we get to see her face."
Another person—older, tired from work but still curious—joined the talk. "I heard she awakened a Mythic rank talent. A real Mythic. The talent that shows up once every thousand years."
The first woman nodded fast. "Makes sense. She's royalty. Their family spits out Legends like it's nothing. It would be strange if she awakened anything less."
A man carrying crates laughed under his breath. "Strange? The world would shake if she didn't. The Emperor himself is expecting her to surpass him."
"Can someone surpass him?" the second woman asked.
The man shrugged. "We'll see when she steps out. Today, they'll show everything."
People continued moving, drifting through the massive circular streets that wrapped around Imperion's layers. Each ring was wider than the last, stacked outward like ripples frozen in stone.
The Outer Ring buzzed with noise—shops, stalls, children running around with wooden swords, workers rushing, beasts pulling carts, talent testers roaming for potential recruits.
Further in, the Warrior Ring roared with metal and shouting.
Past that, the Silver Sector looked cleaner, too clean, filled with nobles in polished clothes.
Near the Golden Bastion, the air itself felt heavier. People walked straighter. Spoke softer.
And far at the center—beyond walls no outsider crossed—the Ivory Circle and the central throne district stood like another world entirely.
No one in the Outer Ring had ever stepped foot there.
No one expected to.
Right now, the only thing on their minds was the girl who lived behind those impossible walls.
The princess.
A teenager about to be shown to the entire capital.
"At least we get to watch," a boy whispered to his friend, clutching a wooden cup. "I wanna see what a Mythic talent looks like."
His friend snorted. "You won't understand it. Those things are too big for people like us."
"But I still wanna see."
The friend sighed and shook his head, but deep down he wanted it too.
Everyone wanted it.
Across the district, giant platforms of crystal started rising from tall towers—House Astryon preparing their projection arrays.
Light shimmered from the platforms, hinting at the image they would broadcast across the sky.
The citizens pointed up, murmuring among themselves.
"It's starting."
The Center
The Royal Castle
Elizabeth sat on the edge of the cushioned bench, leaning slightly forward, one elbow resting on her knee, her finger tapping her cheek the same way she always did when she was bored.
Her hair—thick, dark, full, and untamed—fell around her shoulders like a soft storm. A pair of glasses sat low on her nose, one lens catching the faintest shimmer from the lantern light. Her eyes were sharp but calm, her skin warm and smooth, her lips glossy as she exhaled with that quiet frustration she rarely showed anyone outside the Center.
The dress she wore was simple for royalty, hugging her frame without being flashy. She hated flashy.
She hated all of this.
"Do we really need the whole city watching?" she murmured, not even trying to hide her irritation. "It's just a coming of age. Not the end of the world."
She pushed her glasses up with one finger, only for them to slide halfway down again. She didn't fix them this time.
"It's a talent awakening, yes, but we could've done a normal ceremony. Something small." She sighed. "But no. Everything must be grand. Everything must be dramatic. Everything must be for show."
She leaned back, letting her hair fall against the wall behind her, staring up like she was hoping the ceiling would agree with her.
"It makes no sense. People act like I'm going to explode into light or something."
She shook her head.
"They should save this nonsense for coronations, not birthdays."
There was a pause. She glanced to her right, eyes softening just a little—only a little.
"You think so too, right? Honestly… I know exactly what you would say."
Silence answered her.
But she spoke anyway.
"You'd tell me to stop complaining, stand up straight, and just get it over with."
A small smile tugged at her lips. "And then you'd say I look tired and force me to sleep early."
She lowered her hand from her cheek and let it fall into her lap.
"I know you're somewhere close," she said quietly. "You never miss my ceremonies."
Her smile faded.
"Rebecca—"