CHAPTER 130: THRONE DIVERGENCE

While the massive great sword of Aurelus continued to radiate phoenix flame, Aurelus believed it would completely annihiliate Auren from the inside.

Sparks and embers hissed against the ruined stones of the Austerra castle, casting wild shadows across the collapsing halls.

The mad king’s lips curled into a twisted grin, certain that the holy fire of the Phoenix Blood would consume his enemy whole.

Yet fate had other plans.

’What’s going on?’

Something is happening before himthat he could not even explain.

SSSH~

The very flames he trusted became the missing piece in a cycle older than his throne, older than his empire. The fire did not burn Auren away.

Instead, it seeped into him, flowing like molten veins toward something hidden inside. It was fuel, not destruction.

Deep inside Auren’s menatal space, the Golden egg hurriedly absorbed the foreign Phoenix’s essence like a young check receiving its daily food from its mom. The egg within Auren’s chest had been waiting all along.

Waiting for this very fire to complete its hatching!

"He is one of us!"

The voice rang sharp in Aurelus’s mind, Athena’s voice echoing like a warning bell inside his skull.

The golden flames, so pure and proud, were being drawn into Auren’s body.

Aurelus’s sword was still buried in Auren’s chest, and through that wound, the fire traveled inward. Slowly, almost deliberately, the light was devoured by the boy lying beneath him.

Ssshhhhh~

Aurelus’s eyes widened as realization struck. His aura, his strength, his fire was being drained away. A shiver coursed through his spine.

"This..."

He stumbled back, ripping his sword free and retreating several paces. His breath grew uneven, his confidence cracking. Fear crept across his features, twisting them into something far less regal.

"He’s dead, right? Tell me, Athena! I got him good this time; he should be dead! "

His voice trembled as he spoke aloud, though he was speaking to the woman in his head, the one he had long since named Athena.

’I have scanned his body,’

Athena replied coldly, her tone carrying both certainty and unease.

’By all logic, by all flesh and bone, he should be dead because of that wound. But something... something refuses to let him go. His life force clings. It is as if something greater holds his body and soul intact. And for some reason, If could feel the same Phoenix’s essence within him! That’s why I said he is one of us...’

Aurelus’s face twisted with rage and doubt. Sweat rolled down his temple, dripping onto the smoldering floor.

"Then... how about I cut his head?" His voice cracked, desperation leaking through his kingly façade. His hands trembled against the hilt. he refusef to beleive that Auren is that same kid that he had tried to kill 13 years ago.

"You can try...," Athena said.

Clink.

The great sword scraped the broken stones as Aurelus raised it again. His eyes, once filled with fire and glory, narrowed in on Auren’s neck with the precision of a butcher.

...

"Where am I?"

Auren’s voice echoed softly. He found himself standing at the cloudy crossroads again, that strange place suspended in timeless white. Endless clouds swirled around him, a horizon of soft mist stretching farther than his sight could grasp.

The ground was white, smooth, and spotless, as if untouched by life or history. The air was warm, gentle, like the embrace of a dream that begged him never to wake.

"Yo!"

The playful call of a child broke the silence. Auren turned sharply, instinct kicking in, and found himself staring at the same kid from before.

The boy wore loose white cloth, his messy hair bouncing as he shifted on the floor. He was lying on his side, bored, poking his own nose while a small console rested beside him.

On the console’s screen, a loading bar crawled forward at an agonizing pace.

"That was fast," the kid said lazily without looking up.

Auren blinked in disbelief. "Did I just die?"

His voice cracked, a mix of shock and resignation spilling through. Confusion clouded his features, but beneath it, a quiet heaviness of defeat weighed him down.

"Die? Nope," the angel boy replied. He sat up, crossing his legs, his expression smug as if Auren’s misery was a punchline.

"I’m pretty sure I got stabbed. Right here."

Auren pressed a hand to his chest, remembering the burning weight of Aurelus’s blade. He half expected to feel a hole, blood, anything.

But when he checked, there was nothing. No scar. No wound. His skin was untouched.

"What are you talking about? Look." The child pointed at the console screen. The loading bar blinked back at them.

"We’re just running an update, moving to a new stage."

"New stage? So... I’m not dead?" Auren knelt, his face drawn tight with suspicion.

His eyes locked onto the console, where a crude little animation played: a winged man with a giant sword stabbing a smaller character.

The doodle-like simplicity made it look almost comical, but Auren wasn’t laughing. He knew exactly what it meant. It was mocking him.

His jaw clenched.

"So... why am I here again? Did I forget to sign some form before you shoved me into that world last time?"

His tone carried irritation, his eyes narrowing at the cheeky grin on the boy’s face.

The kid scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you about the Primordials. There’s a certain one I need you to deliver a message to."

Auren’s brows shot up. "A message? To a Primordial Beast? You mean like Bonbon?"

The boy puffed his chest proudly, wings of faint light flickering faintly behind him.

"Yup just like him, though far stronger than him." There was cold malice in his tone which suddenly shifted back to his usual cheecky style,

"Think of it as a bonus side quest. A little extra, for your excellent performance so far."

Auren stared blankly, lips parting in disbelief.

"A side quest? You’re calling a hunt for one of the strongest, most unpredictable creatures in existence a side quest? Are you kidding me?"

"Do you want it or not?" the angel’s face turned cold once again, this time, there was domineering presence its voice, as if he could break him with a single thought.,

Auren sighed and sat cross-legged, mirroring the boy.

"Fine. What do I get in return?"

The boy’s cold demeanor dissapeared again,.

"Well, for one, you might earn his blessing. That would help in your journey to become Emperor... or maybe something even higher."

Auren hesitated, mulling it over. His eyes narrowed, suspicion lingering, but the thought of power, of survival, tugged at him. "...Alright. Let’s hear it."

"It’s simple. Find Druka."

Auren frowned. The name alone carried weight, like thunder before a storm.

"Druka? That sounds... dangerous."

"Not just dangerous." The boy’s expression grew serious.

"Druka only wakes once every three hundred years. And every time, it means trouble."

"Why?"

"Because Druka is the Primordial Dragon of Lightning and Destruction."

Gulp.

Sweat prickled at the back of his neck.

"That... sounds like the most dangerous side quest ever."

"Wait until you hear my message for him," the angel teased, catching Auren’s thoughts.

"Fine. What is it?" Auren muttered, rubbing his temple.

The child’s tiny wings stretched out, glowing faintly gold. His smile turned mischievous.

"Tell Druka this: I, the Angel Gabriel, will be attending the Throne Divergence. Since he isn’t invited, tell him to watch Kalibu for me. And he better not sleep, while I am away."

Auren repeated the words dryly, as if they were the dumbest set of instructions he had ever heard.

"Druka. Angel Gabriel is going to the Throne Divergence. Please watch Kalibu. Dont sleep. Got it."

"Perfect!" Gabriel laughed, his high-pitched giggles echoing across the endless white.

His wings fluttered as if the joke was too good for him alone.

Auren rolled his eyes and muttered, "That was easy. And where will I find him?"

"That’s for you to figure out,"

Gabriel answered with a mysterious grin.

"What do you mean UGK—"

Auren didn’t finish.

Gabriel lunged forward, his tiny foot slamming into Auren’s stomach with surprising force.

Auren doubled over, gasping, and before he could protest, his body was hurled backward into the small water pond at the center of the crossroads.

The surface swallowed him whole before he could complain.

"not agaiiiiiin~"

...

Auren’s eyes snapped open.

The world of Kalibu roared back into him.

He was no longer in the crossroads.

He was back at the ruins of the Austerra castle, flames tearing through its once-proud halls.

Ash filled the air, heat pressed against his skin, and smoke clawed at his lungs. The ground trembled with the weight of destruction.

King Aurelus lay before him, sprawled on the ground, his great sword forgotten at his side. His eyes were wide, pupils trembling as he stared up at Auren.

Horror twisted his regal face into that of a cornered animal.

Auren froze, realizing his own hands.

’Huh?’

One was wrapped around Aurelus’s throat, pinning him to the scorched floor. The other gripped a golden rapier blazing with divine fire, its light casting long shadows across the inferno and aimed on his head.

The weapon hummed in his palm, alive, as if it had been waiting for him. Not to mention, Auren is in a completely different form, like a cross between human and a holy phoenix. This time, his form is covered in gold flaming armor with intricate design.

Six Flaming wings flared behind him while his overall presence reminded them of a demigod.

In the distance, scattered through the smoke, he saw familiar faces: Robert, Austaire, Mardonio, even Marissa.

Their expressions were mixtures of shock and fear, some rooted to the spot, others too stunned to breathe.

Beside them stood others—figures cloaked in shadow, the mysterious warriors of the Dark Fate.

And above, blotting out the sky, fifty wyverns circled like vultures. Their riders bore the sigil of the Wha-Lah Empire, their black armor gleaming with lightning but their eyes glowed with wariness and fear behind their silver helmets.

Each carried a black lance that crackled with stormlight, all aimed downward. Every single tip was pointed at Auren and Aurelus.

The boy’s heart pounded. His breath caught in his throat.

’What... what the heck is going on?’

His grip tightened instinctively on the now-flaming rapier.

And then, from deep within, came a voice he knew all too well.

A cocky, mocking voice.

"Daddy chill. It’s me. I rekt them goood while you’re out."