The guard sprinted inside the palace, shouting to alert the royal court. But Akin didn't wait. His boots struck the polished marble of the palace floor with steady purpose.
Any soldier that tried to stop him was sent sprawling with a pulse of sheer aura, like leaves scattered before a storm. Jane followed behind, calm and composed, her presence silent but firm.
Elan chuckled. "What a show-off," he muttered.
A blur of motion darted from the corridor ahead. Iswell, eyes crazed, unsheathed his blade and roared, rushing toward Akin with bloodlust blazing in his veins.
Akin didn't draw a weapon. He smiled.
Not kindly.
The kind of smile a predator gives its prey. Unblinking. Cold. Certain.
Their clash lasted only a breath.
Steel met skin. Then shattered.
Iswell's blade broke into glittering shards, and the impact sent him crashing to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. He looked up in terror as Akin walked forward and leaned in slightly.
"Is this how you greet a guest?" Akin asked, voice as calm as it was deadly.
A moment later, the same guard who had run in earlier returned, breathless. "The king… the king has asked you to come in."
Within the throne room, the king was already prepared.
He sat on the elevated dais beneath the grand arch, flanked by the kingdom's elite knights and high mages. Estria, the aged archmage who looks young with hollow eyes, stood beside him—nervous but proud. She was the one who once declared Akin unfit to be a hero, the one who ordered his exile to the cursed land.
Jendol and Annabel stood ahead of the knights, unaware of the identity of the visitor they were summoned to face.
Akin nodded slightly at the guard. "Lead the way."
He pulled his hood over his face, shadowing his eyes, and followed. As he walked, he spoke to Jane through a Sound Link.
"No matter what happens, don't move unless I say so."
"Okay," she replied softly, tension brimming in her voice.
The doors opened wide.
Akin and Jane stepped into the throne room. The glow from the chandelier reflected off the ceremonial armor of the elite guards encircling the space. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation. No one recognized him yet.
Not until the king's voice echoed.
"Who are you? Raise your head, young warrior."
Akin reached up slowly and pushed back his hood.
His eyes—glowing faintly with blue Nexis energy—met the king's.
Jendol froze. His hand trembled violently. His sword clattered to the floor.
"Akin…?" he whispered, as though seeing a ghost.
He rushed forward and threw his arms around him.
Annabel, stunned and wide-eyed, followed. "It's really you!" she cried, joining the embrace.
The king stood. Estria stumbled back a step, lips parted in disbelief.
"Are you truly Akin?" the king asked, voice hoarse.
Akin didn't answer.
"Answer me!" the king barked. "How dare you disrespect me! You were exiled from this land! How dare you return alive?!"
Knights stepped forward, blades raised. Jendol and Annabel instinctively shielded Akin.
Then Akin's voice rang out, clear and furious.
"And who the hell are you to decide whether I live or die?"
The court gasped. One of the knights, enraged, charged at him, sword drawn high.
Akin didn't flinch.
He raised a single hand—and caught the blade mid-swing.
Steel bent. Then cracked.
The knight's body flew back, striking the ground with a painful thud.
"I've felt near-death scenarios, thanks to someone called the king," Akin continued, stepping forward. "You summoned me. You shattered the peace I had in my world. And now you ask... how dare I come back?"
The Nexis within him stirred.
Then it exploded.
Blue aura surged from his body like a tidal wave. It slammed into the room with the weight of a mountain.
Everyone dropped to their knees.
The elite knights collapsed, groaning. Even the king, upon his throne, was forced down, trembling.
Estria screamed as the force overwhelmed her. Mages fainted. Jane stood firm behind Akin, protected by his will.
He advanced, one step at a time, fury in every movement.
"How dare you? He growled
"How dare you?" he growled again.
The palace walls began to shake. A storm formed outside, dark clouds spiraling over the capital. The very sky glowed with a divine blue light. Citizens in the streets paused in horror. They looked up, clutching their children, murmuring prayers.
Inside the palace, some fainted. Others gasped for air.
Akin's voice thundered once more—
"How dare you decide my fate?!"
He ascended the stairs.
The throne loomed before him.
With slow, deliberate motion, Akin sat.
The light of his aura pulsed outward in a divine ring. His eyes glowed brighter, full of power, pain, and purpose.
He looked around the room. Dozens had collapsed. He spotted Annabel and Jendol, slumped against the floor, struggling to breathe.
Akin closed his eyes.
The aura vanished.
Air returned. Color returned to faces. And gasps of relief echoed across the chamber.
He rose from the throne.
"I don't have the luxury to kill you," he said, looking at the king. "I will spare you. But know this—your life hangs on a string I can cut anytime I want."
He stepped forward to his friends and extended his hands to help them stand.
After a long pause, they reached out. Akin pulled them up.
Then, he turned to a trembling servant.
"I need a room—for me and my friends."
No one argued.
He walked toward Jane.
"I'm sorry you had to see that side of me," he whispered.
Jane didn't respond at first. Then she stepped forward and hugged him tightly.
"It's okay, Master," she said. "I'm glad you're safe."
Jendol approached from the side, still pale. His lips trembled.
"Master…?" he echoed, confused yet reverent.
Akin looked at him, unsure whether to smile or remain cold.
The throne room fell into silence, only the wind outside breaking the stillness. The king had been humbled. The land had witnessed the return of the forgotten one.
But this was just the beginning.
End of Chapter 22