After leaving everyone behind, Asher retreated to his room and began to meditate. According to his predecessors, mediating was a pathway to tapping into the inner world and awakening the true essence of oneself.
It was also the only way to become an Awoken One—fearsome individuals who could see beyond the fabric of reality.
This first rank of the Awoken Ones was Suspicion. To attain this rank, one had to question everything, even the reality of the world itself, allowing for the inner world to emerge.
Awoken Ones possessed incredible abilities and could perform incredible feats—slaughtering thousands without lifting a weapon. By tapping into their inner world and projecting it into the real world, they transcended ordinary limits.
What set them apart from the rest of the world was their ability to awaken from the illusion called reality.
Strangely, Awoken Ones seemed to not exist in Tenaria, but Asher knew without a doubt that these powerhouses existed.
It seemed like they didn’t exist to him because he was still too weak and his domain was too fragile to attract the gazes of the Awoken Ones.
However, in this world ruled by nobles, even the Awoken Ones had to serve under them. Meaning, that some high-ranking nobles had these mountain-crushing powerhouses under their banner.
All of a sudden, this realization made Asher feel that all of his progress was insignificant.
He had learned about the Awoken Ones during the programming. But he didn’t know too much since he was focused on the lore and world-building, weaving his understanding shallow.
Still, a yearning burned within him—a desire to achieve that strength, to become an Awoken One and look down on his weaknesses.
With such great power, all would bow before him regardless of their thoughts.
As his concentration faltered, Asher clenched his teeth and regulated his breathing before trying once again. This time, a torrent of voices began to flood his mind. Suddenly, it was as if a curtain was torn away, transporting him to a grand castle.
The skies were dark and turbulent, thunder and lightning illuminating them, reflecting the figure of a stout man.
The man gave off the impression of an unmovable mountain. Across him stood another man in his early thirties, sporting a light beard.
He looked like the younger version of the older man. Unfortunately, between these two who looked like father and son, lay a corpse.
Blood dripped from the young man’s claws and mouth. Asher could see the fangs protruding from his mouth and his glowing green eyes burning with intensity.
Littered around the young man were armoured soldiers, who struggled to move but were unable, as if paralyzed.
Even Asher could feel it—the oppressive force emanating from the younger man had developed weight itself!
This was an extremely high level.
A level of power where one’s mere force upon release could physically restrain those nearby.
The weight was so much that Asher’s body froze.
‘I can’t move!’
Panic crept in as more soldiers and commanders ran into the scene, but the stout man lifted his hand to stop them.
“Why kill your stepmother.”
“I didn’t kill her, and she’s not my stepmother!” the younger man, Zorah Ashbourne, growled. “I just returned to the castle and I found myself with a corpse the next night. Do you think I did this, General Kirin?!”
“Zorah Ashbourne, you are charged with the murder of Lady Miriam Ashbourne, the Archduke’s second concubine!” a commander bellowed.
“I didn’t kill her!” Zorah snarled.
“Zorah…” General Kirin Ashbourne, a general known to be older than the Archduke sighed, his voice heavy with regret.
“… We shall investigate. Just surrender.”
“W… what?!”
Grr!
A low growl echoed as a massive white wolf emerged behind General Kirin Ashbourne, standing taller than him.
‘Euo. I need you.’ Zorah thought.
General Kirin lifted his head when he saw the majestic beast, the wolf known to possess a potential so strong that it could surpass the first wolf.
The saintly Shura!
The name of this magnificent creature, the pride of Ashbourne, was Euodias, the wolf with four elements!
And his master, Zorah had also awakened a second talent like his father, Zenas Ashbourne—the two-faced Shura. Zorah’s gift was extraordinary, even among the supreme-ranked talents!
Both Zorah and Euodias were in a league of their own.
Together, they were supposed to inherit the Archduke’s legacy, but…
Shing!
General Kirin drew his sword. ‘Sorry boy but… you’re a threat to the lord’s first wife.’
That’s right… It was all internal politics.
Swoosh!
General Kirin’s eyes became white, the same happened to his wolf and with a stomp, the earth rose, propelling him into the air.
“Uncle… don’t make me fight you,” Zorah warned, his fangs, claws and the intensity of his eyes growing stronger. He had been lured here and was now forced to face a formidable foe.
Once his talent reached a certain stage, he would succumb to bloodlust. They knew this, which was why he lived in solitary, in the mountain caves by himself, isolated from the rest of the world.
Euodias lunged forward, faster than the wind and launched a claw strike, tearing through General Kirin’s breastplate in a single strike!
Lightning danced along its other foreleg as it slammed down toward General Kirin’s head but the general was fast enough to block the strike.
Although the general had managed to block the attack, the sheer force of the blow drove him to the ground.
Earth surged upward, encasing Kirin’s wolf in protective armor as it leaped at Euodias. But Euodias merely glanced at the other wolf and when it came close, he casually slapped it away with a lightning-infused paw, sending the armored wolf tumbling away!
Then, the creature’s multi-colored eyes drifted back to the troops, cold and predatory.
Meanwhile, behind Euodias, Zorah struggled to regain his bearing. Even he was confused. Did he actually kill the first concubine?
He couldn’t remember anything and although he was prone to losing control of himself, it was usually out of rage.
This time, there had been no anger, so there was no way he’d transformed into the powerful and destructive version of himself.
Euodias slowly raised his right forelimb. The air above the battlefield grew dense and high-pressure wind began to descend.
There was no doubt—once Euodias’ foot touched the ground, nothing would remain of the troops.
“Euodias, no!”
Zorah’s desperate voice cut through the chaos, forcing his wolf to stand down. In the next moment, General Kirin unleashed his battle force to the limit and hurtled one of his men’s spears.
Puchi!
With deadly precision, the spear pierced through Euodias’ head. Killing the wolf that was on his way back to his master.
Blood splattered across Zorah’s face.
He froze, unable to believe what just happened.
He rushed over to Euodias’ corpse and fell to his knees, tears running down his cheeks as he clutched his wolf’s fur tightly.
“I am sorry, young lord,” General Kirin said, his voice heavy.
“Sorry…?”
Zorah’s voice shifted, deepening into something unrecognizable. “… No. You’re not.”
A silver mask formed over his face, exposing only his fangs and chin. His skin turned to glistening silver, spikes sprouting from his shoulder and fists.
Green light blasted out of him, piercing the dark skies.
“It’s his talent,” someone whispered in awe. “He has transformed into the Evil Angel.”
Even General Kirin couldn’t believe it. So this was the talent his nephew had, one that the Archduke had kept hidden all this long.
Zorah’s aura became jarring. So cold and emotionless that even General Kirin felt a chill.
Swoosh!