Chapter 230
And at the end of that prayer, there was tucked away a wish that was even gentler, a possibility he would once have considered a degradation of dignity.
To follow Theo.
Not as an overseer, not as a teacher, but as… what?
As a student?
As a follower?
As a lost soul in need of guidance?
Even his own words were uncertain.
He merely imagined the possibility of walking behind that human, tracing whatever adventure Theo chose to walk—whether shallow or perilous, tedious or wondrous.
Perhaps within those steps, within a life unplanned and imperfect, he might rediscover the meaning of "living" itself, something he had long sacrificed upon the altar of "devotion."
'So, it has finally come.'
The voice crept slowly through the damp cave corridor, not as sudden terror, but as an inevitable arrival.
Each footstep struck the stone walls with an echo, as though time itself were approaching with measured strides.
For Aldraya, who was submerged in reveries of regret and bitter prayer, the sound felt like a funeral rhythm for the brief silence he had enjoyed—or more precisely, endured—for a moment.
His slow, painful breathing seemed to align with every approaching step, drawing in and releasing air with a rhythm that grew heavier as the distance dwindled.
From behind the lengthening shadows cast by a dim light of unknown origin, the silhouette began to take shape.
Not as a figure shrouded in the anomaly of the Nothing.
Nor as a metaphysical threat that disrupted the laws of reality.
This was a simpler silhouette, more familiar, and for that very reason, perhaps more piercing.
The form that slowly emerged from the darkness was Ilux Rediona.
Not Ilux, the bearer of the Nothing.
Nor Ilux radiating a lethal aura as a scion of the empire.
This was the ordinary Ilux.
The Ilux who had once stood before him in the lecture hall of the Star Academy, in a neat uniform, with eyes full of curiosity and a doubt occasionally slipping through.
The Ilux he had taught privately, whom he had once reprimanded for asking too many questions, whom he had once regarded with a mixture of disappointment and hidden hope as a special student.
All traces of alienness and absolute power that had clung to their last encounter seemed to evaporate, replaced by a presence that was tangible, simple, and human.
"I expect nothing more.
But if there is still room for a single request, protect my twelve Brothers."
Fuuuuusssh!
"Care for them, and keep moving forward without me. With that, all my debts are paid."
The silence hanging between them felt denser than the cave's stone walls themselves.
Aldraya merely stared blankly at Ilux, all energy and desire to survive or speak having drained from his shattered body.
Within him remained only an eternal exhaustion, a despair so deep that even death felt like a longed-for ending, an escape from the existential pain that continued to gnaw at his soul.
He no longer even possessed the desire to beg for forgiveness or demand explanations.
The previous battle, which had nearly claimed Ilux's life, now felt like an absurd act in a long drama he no longer wished to perform.
All instincts for survival, all ambitions to correct his mistakes, had faded away.
What remained was a final burden still clinging to his mind, a responsibility that not even total despair could erase.
That concern was not directed toward his own fate.
Aldraya's absolute faith, once so vast it filled the entire cosmos of his understanding, had now shrunk to a point barely visible.
He had accepted the possibility that he would truly cease to exist, erased without leaving a trace for reincarnation or return.
None of that mattered anymore.
What gnawed at the remnants of his consciousness was the fate of "them."
His twelve Brothers, entities who had together spent eons as guardians of order, as another extension of Quil-Hasa's will.
They were the only bond he still felt as something real, more real than dogma or divine duty.
In his total collapse, his final concern turned out not to be his own redemption, but the survival of those he would leave behind.
With the last strength drawn from the deepest remnants of his nearly extinguished will to live, Aldraya opened his mouth.
His words emerged not as commands or structured pleas, but as fragmented groans, broken by ragged breaths and a body growing weaker by the second.
His voice was hoarse, almost like a whispering wind threading through stone crevices.
The message was simple, plain, and filled with total resignation.
He declared that he no longer hoped for anything, did not ask for forgiveness or a second chance.
But if even one thing could still be granted, then with all the humility he had left, he pleaded with Ilux.
Not to save him.
Not to explain everything.
But for one task that was worldly and filled with care.
To tend to and protect his twelve brothers.
That request was both a final testament and an admission of absolute defeat.
Within it lay an acceptance that he would no longer exist to protect them.
He entrusted his last responsibility, his duty as the eldest brother, to the student who had defeated him.
By asking Ilux to do so, he implicitly acknowledged that Ilux, with all his changes and newfound power, might be more capable—or more worthy—of becoming their guardian.
It was an extraordinary act of trust, born not from strength, but from total surrender and a sincere fraternal love that, it turned out, endured longer than all his religious convictions.
'The authority of the Supreme Angel still flows, though dimly.
I will not protect anyone.
What I want is the remainder of your power… and your body itself.'
Ssssssh!
'If my poison seeps into the core of your existence, your twelve Brothers will feel it as well.
A perfect chain of poisoning.'
In the damp silence of the cave, where everything should have been saturated with the gravity of tragedy and surrender, Ilux's thoughts moved along an entirely different path.
While Aldraya struggled against the weakness enveloping every fiber of his being—a struggle that appeared both grand and pitiful—Ilux's attention was drawn instead to something far more shallow and physical.
His eyes, which should have reflected sorrow, anger, or even compassion, instead swept across Aldraya's body with a dark and pressing intensity.
He remained silent, yet it was a silence brimming with seething desire.
His tongue, unconsciously slipping out for a brief moment to moisten lips that had suddenly gone dry, was an instinctive gesture more honest than any words.
It was the movement of a beast gazing upon its prey, or more precisely, of a connoisseur beholding a masterpiece rendered weak and helpless.
In his mind, Aldraya's suffering and surrender did not touch the knot of empathy at all.
Instead, they sharpened a possessive and destructive attraction.
That weakness looked enticing.
That fragility looked like an invitation.
Aldraya's final plea, born of sincere fraternal love and total resignation, instead ignited something starkly contrasting and vile within Ilux.
The intent to protect and care for Aldraya's twelve brothers?
It was an idea utterly unappealing, even laughable.
What occupied Ilux's mind was not responsibility, but rarity.
Not protection, but seizure.
To be continued…