CHAPTER 258: THE PROPHECY, FOOTAGE OF A PRIMORDIAL

"The prophecy goes something like this," Seraphine said as her fingers moved gracefully through the air, summoning glowing green text that appeared across the panel floating in front of them.

Sam leaned forward slightly, his eyes focused as he read every word.

---

[When light betrays its vow and shadows start to sing,

The True Primordial shall rise to face the King.

The realms will tremble, undone by flame,

As truth devours glory, and none shall speak his name.

Worlds will fall to silence, their fate by void unspun,

Until one of them breaks, and all returns to one.]

---

"Huh."

He read the lines over and over again, letting each phrase settle into his mind.

Every word carried weight, like something ancient yet alive, whispering meaning just out of reach.

His eyes focused on one particular line.

"’The True Primordial shall rise to face the King.’"

He looked at it for a long moment.

Both "Primordial" and "King" were capitalized — meaning they weren’t metaphors or titles given to random beings.

They referred to him and to the one he already knew about.

The King.

That one line confirmed what he had already suspected deep down: sooner or later, Sam would have to face the King in battle.

Then his eyes drifted down to the final line.

"’Until one of them breaks, and all returns to one.’"

The words carried a quiet finality. It was clear what they meant.

Either Sam or the King would die.

There would be no peace, no compromise, no ending other than one of them being erased.

When it was over, everything would return to one, whatever that meant.

He exhaled slowly.

"Is that all?" Sam asked at last, his voice calm and expression unreadable.

"Yeah," Seraphine nodded, folding her hands together. "That’s the whole thing. Every world teaches it. We’re shown this prophecy from the moment we can read."

Sam tilted his head slightly.

So that meant the prophecy wasn’t some hidden myth passed among the strong, it was common knowledge.

Every world had grown up knowing that one day, a Primordial would rise again, and that it would lead to ruin.

He could already imagine how deep that indoctrination went.

No wonder everyone despised the Primordials so much.

If the prophecy said their return meant destruction, who wouldn’t fear them?

And that one line; ’Their fate by void unspun’, must have terrified entire civilizations.

Still, Sam gave a small nod, memorizing the prophecy word for word.

"What else?" he asked after a few seconds. "That can’t be all of it, right? I mean..."

"Of course not," Seraphine replied, shaking her head. "We also have several... recordings. Footage of the Primordials being—"

She stopped herself before finishing the sentence.

Her hesitation said enough.

It was clear she was struggling to find the right words, careful not to offend him.

Probably because he was one of them.

"I don’t care about what you call them," Sam said evenly. "Just show me what they did."

"Alright."

Seraphine clapped her hands together, and the text vanished from the panel, replaced by a shimmering image that began to move like a holographic screen.

A figure appeared in the projection, a being entirely shrouded in a swirling dark aura.

Its body was hidden beneath that darkness, but Sam could make out the faint glint of a sword in its hand.

The blade pulsed with power, disturbingly similar to the Primordial Sword he himself carried.

Only the being’s face was visible, white eyes spinning like vortexes, and a wide, twisted smile that stretched too far across its face.

Sam’s eyes narrowed.

’It almost looks like... the Primordial Clone.’

The resemblance was uncanny, the aura, the way it moved, the strange instability in its energy.

The being on the screen fought against hundreds of others, both monsters and beings from different races.

Each swing of its sword tore through armies, and each strike reduced cities to ash.

All around it, the world burned.

"Did that thing... do all that by itself?" Sam asked quietly, watching the destruction unfold.

"I don’t know," Seraphine said, her voice low. "This is just one of the many videos. It’s the only one I have access to."

Sam nodded slowly but didn’t respond.

He kept his gaze on the projection, watching the battle reach its climax.

After nearly a minute of chaos, massive black hands erupted from the ground, shadows turned solid, and wrapped around the Primordial.

They bound its limbs and neck, snapping bone and tearing energy apart.

Its body went limp, its head falling lifelessly to the side.

’But of course... it’ll revive,’ Sam thought grimly.

And sure enough, a few seconds later, the creature twitched, and its eyes snapped open again.

It stood, shakily at first, then fully upright, scanning its surroundings.

Then, for no apparent reason, it stopped moving.

Its posture stiffened. Its head tilted slightly upward.

It was looking at something, something beyond the screen, something unseen above the sky.

And as it stared, its aura began to fade.

All of its fury, all of its strength, all of its determination vanished in an instant.

Its white eyes widened with realization.

It dropped its sword. And then it spoke.

"Haha... I see now—"

Before the sentence could finish, a blade unlike any other tore through the heavens.

It wasn’t a normal weapon. It was pure malice, a blade forged from hatred and determination itself.

It fell like divine judgment.

BOOM!

The impact split the sky apart, and the sword of darkness cut cleanly through the Primordial’s body, erasing it completely.

Sam’s eyes widened.

He stepped closer to the screen, his heart pounding.

’I’ve seen that sword before.’

The image burned into his memory as he watched the aftermath.

The Primordial didn’t get up this time.

It didn’t revive. Its determination was gone, broken. It had truly died.

The video ended abruptly.

Silence filled the room.

Sam stood there, unmoving, his expression dark.

’That sword... it’s the same one that killed Zareth.’

He remembered it vividly, the exact same blade had descended the moment Zareth tried to tell him information about the final realm.

It was identical. There was no mistaking it.

Which meant that the being who killed Zareth and the being who destroyed the Primordial in that recording were the same.

[The King =)]

Sam smirked slightly.

’Yeah... that makes the most sense.’

This revelation was huge.

Now he had proof, or at least something close to it, of how the Primordials died.

He knew what they looked like. How they fought. And perhaps what finally killed them.

Still, he couldn’t deny that the being in the footage had looked terrifying.

If the others were all like that, uncontrollable, destructive, insane, then maybe the world had a reason to fear them.

But Sam wasn’t going to become one of them. Not yet.

"Is that all?" he asked after a moment.

Seraphine smiled nervously. "That’s all I have. I hope... it’s okay."

"It’s fine," Sam said with a grin.

His aura flared subtly around him, and the gleam in his eyes brightened.

"Thanks."

Both Belle and Seraphine instinctively flinched at the sight.

For a split second, they could have sworn they saw the same essence that the Primordial in the video had, that same quiet, terrifying intensity hidden behind a smile.

His expression was calm, but there was something chilling about it.

It wasn’t malice. It was... determination.

"Alright," Sam said, his tone casual again, "I guess I have nothing more to ask of you."

Ding!

[You have sent 3,000,000 Forsaken Coins to "Seraphine Lunaris."]

Seraphine blinked, then laughed softly. "Oh, you weren’t lying," she said. "I guess I really will spend it on the mansion then."

"Spend it on whatever you want," Sam shrugged. "And give some to Belle too."

"Thanks~" Belle chimed, grinning.