Silence.
The mountain peak remained motionless.
The cold wind drifted across the endless cliffs, carrying with it countless grains of silver-white dust. Moments ago, that dust had possessed form. Thoughts. Regret. Wisdom.
Now...
Nothing remained.
I stood alone.
My gaze lingered on the place where the White Dragon had vanished, unable to move away. His final words echoed within my mind, refusing to fade.
> "Never become another Nameless Sovereign."
> "Never become another puppet."
> "Become Velzahar."
My fingers unconsciously tightened before slowly relaxing.
"...Velzahar..."
I repeated the name quietly.
Not because I had forgotten it.
But because, for the first time...
I truly understood what it meant.
For countless years, every technique I cultivated, every lesson I learned, every piece of knowledge I absorbed had been left behind by someone else.
Every path had already been walked.
Every explanation had already been interpreted.
Even Seraphim...
Even the greatest technique ever conceived...
Was ultimately another person's understanding of existence.
To completely master another's path...
One must unknowingly become that person.
The White Dragon had realized that truth only after standing at the very summit.
By then...
It was too late.
His path had already become his prison.
A faint smile appeared on my face.
"...I understand."
No...
Perhaps not completely.
But I had taken the first step.
The first step toward creating a path that belonged to no one else.
A path that only Velzahar could walk.
Turning around, I cast one final glance toward the empty cliff.
There was no regret.
No sadness.
Only respect.
The White Dragon had long since paid for his mistakes.
His final lesson...
Would not be wasted.
Without another word, I stepped forward.
The scenery blurred.
The mountain disappeared behind me.
...
Not far away, seven figures waited in complete silence.
None of them spoke.
None of them questioned where I had gone.
The leader of the Seven simply watched my approaching figure with calm eyes.
Behind him stood the remaining six Shadow Warriors, their expressions as composed as ever.
Beside them...
Father.
And...
Nyxaroth.
As my footsteps came to a stop, Father's gaze settled upon me.
For several long seconds...
He said nothing.
His eyes carefully examined my face.
Not my cultivation.
Not my aura.
Not my body.
My expression.
Then...
A faint smile slowly appeared on his face.
"Good..."
"He knows how to listen."
"Strength without humility creates monsters."
"That boy..."
"Is destined to reach greater heights."
There was no pride born from power.
Only quiet satisfaction.
A father watching his son mature.
Sometimes...
Growth could not be measured by cultivation.
It could only be seen through one's eyes.
And the eyes before him...
Had changed.
Not sharper.
Not colder.
Simply...
Calmer.
Like a restless storm that had finally found its center.
I smiled lightly.
Father returned the smile.
No explanation was needed.
Our eyes alone were enough.
...
Standing a short distance away, Nyxaroth remained motionless.
His Pupilish eyes rested upon me.
Unlike Father...
He looked directly into my eyes.
The surrounding shadows quietly stirred.
Invisible.
Silent.
The Shadow Realm itself responded to his presence.
Within this world...
Nothing escaped his perception.
The moment our gazes met...
He already knew.
The White Dragon.
The conversation.
Dracophim.
The warning.
The choice.
Everything.
Not because someone informed him.
But because this Realm acknowledged him as its ruler.
A faint smile appeared on the corner of his lips.
Barely noticeable.
Yet enough for the Seven to widen their eyes slightly.
Nyxaroth...
Was smiling.
Then...
He spoke.
One word.
"...Good."
Nothing more.
Yet every member of the Seven instinctively lowered their heads.
They understood.
That single word had nothing to do with strength.
Nor talent.
Nor cultivation.
It acknowledged something far rarer.
The willingness to learn.
The humility to accept guidance from another.
Even if that person could never reach the heights you yourself were destined to attain.
Arrogance had destroyed countless geniuses throughout history.
Humility...
Allowed legends to continue growing.
Nyxaroth slowly turned around.
"The Shadow Realm has nothing more to teach you."
His deep voice remained calm.
"It is time."
Without waiting for a response, he began walking.
Father followed immediately.
The Seven silently fell into formation behind him.
I walked alongside them.
None of us spoke.
The silence itself felt peaceful.
...
Several minutes later...
The familiar mountain range came into view.
At its center stood an enormous black gateway.
Ancient.
Majestic.
It seemed less like a gate...
And more like a fragment of eternity itself.
Countless runes covered its surface.
Each one emitted a faint silver glow.
The space around it gently rippled.
This was not a portal created through formations.
Nor an artificial gateway.
It was the natural entrance connecting the Shadow Realm with Zeraphyx.
Nyxaroth stopped before it.
Raising one hand...
He gently placed his palm against the ancient stone.
Immediately—
Every rune illuminated.
The mountain trembled.
A deep humming sound echoed throughout the valley.
The colossal gate slowly separated down the middle.
Light.
Warm golden sunlight poured through the opening.
For seven years...
My world had been covered in darkness.
Now...
Sunlight once again fell upon my face.
Instinctively, I narrowed my eyes.
The warmth felt unfamiliar.
Almost strange.
A gentle breeze drifted through the opening.
Unlike the cold air of the Shadow Realm...
This breeze carried life.
The scent of forests.
Wildflowers.
Fresh earth.
And...
The distant ocean.
I inhaled slowly.
Then smiled.
Seven years.
To Zeraphyx...
Only seven days had passed.
To me...
An entire chapter of my life had come to an end.
Nyxaroth stepped through first.
Father followed.
The Seven disappeared into the light one after another.
I remained behind for one final moment.
Turning around...
I looked toward the endless darkness stretching behind me.
This Realm had nearly killed me countless times.
It had broken me.
Forged me.
Changed me.
It was here...
That I had first understood what true resolve meant.
It was here...
That I had learned the difference between inheriting strength...
And creating my own.
I slowly brought my hands together before my chest.
The traditional salute of the Shadow Realm.
A gesture of gratitude.
A gesture of respect.
Then...
Without hesitation...
I stepped into the light.
End of Part I.