Zachary had initially wanted to spend his days in leisure, even as the kingdom slipped into a tense and uncertain period. Everything had begun a few days after his father revealed his true origin, alongside the incidents that had unfolded in East Malais.
The revelation unsettled him more than he cared to admit—not out of fear, but because it stripped away ambiguity. Things were no longer hypothetical. There were consequences now, tangible ones, though he had little interest in confronting them himself.
The governing bodies were scrambling, issuing orders to every department to manage the transition period. The king himself had gone as far as broadcasting a nationwide televised decree, urging the populace to prepare for the possibility of war.
Townspeople, merchants, and soldiers alike were caught between concern and confusion. Rumors spread with alarming speed, exaggerating every minor development, and the tension hanging over the cities was difficult to ignore.
Zachary watched it all unfold with detached curiosity. He understood why people were anxious. It simply didn't stir anything in him.
In the past, enemies had been visible—identifiable forces that allowed every party time to prepare. This time was different. The threat lingered in the shadows, intangible yet persistent. In response, the government began sweeping through its own ranks, searching for potential sleeper agents.
If they succeeded, the chances of extracting useful intelligence were high, even if the methods involved would be brutal and exhaustive. Zachary, of course, had no direct stake in any of this. He had no intention of participating unless circumstances left him no alternative.
For now, daily life remained mostly unchanged for the general public. Still, the strain was beginning to show along the sea trade routes. Ports across Peninsular Malais had been shut down entirely, forcing ships from the east to reroute toward East Malais or the Malavia Barrier ports.
The disruption sent ripples through global trade. El Malais controlled the most critical maritime link between the western and eastern worlds, and everyone felt the effects. Importers and exporters fretted over delayed shipments and rising costs, while governments and mercantile organizations debated the broader political implications.
Relations with other nations grew strained. Some diplomats attempted negotiation; others hinted at retaliation. The kingdom's stance, however, remained firm: the Malais Strait would stay under lockdown until the threat was fully identified and neutralized.
As the wealthiest nation on the planet, El Malais had both the resources and the resolve to enforce its decision. Merchants complained, foreign diplomats fumed, neighboring kingdoms recalculated their next moves—but the message was unmistakable. El Malais would not bend, and it would defend its sovereignty regardless of pressure.
That certainty only highlighted the contrast with Zachary's own ambivalence.
He found it difficult to care about any of it—a fact he had made clear to his parents, especially his father, Neil Bohrson. Being part of the Royal Clan came with responsibilities, certainly, but Zachary preferred to let the kingdom handle its own affairs.
At eighteen, he reasoned that there was only so much he could realistically change anyway. It was a convenient excuse, one he repeated often to justify doing nothing.
Unless, of course, someone he actually cared about was harmed. Then things might be different. Otherwise, it was someone else's problem.
Mostly, Zachary was interested in seeing how the war would unfold rather than stepping into it himself. He could turn the tide against any force threatening the kingdom if he chose to—but the idea didn't particularly appeal to him.
Orchestrating battles or confronting enemies directly held little interest. He preferred observation: watching, analyzing, seeing how others performed under pressure. In its own way, it was entertainment—a game played on a scale most people could never comprehend.
His Physique, Mind, and Soul Codes had stabilized considerably since absorbing the three Eli's Staffs a few weeks earlier. The data gathered in his father's secret laboratory—through countless testing machines hidden beneath the mansion—gave him a clear understanding of his current limits.
Each reading, each simulation, confirmed what he already suspected. He had long surpassed ordinary mortals, and even most enhanced individuals would struggle to match him.
What surprised him more was the sheer number of intellectuals his father employed. The compensation must have been generous. During casual conversations with the researchers, Zachary realized he had read many of their theses or books long before ever setting foot in the lab.
At this point, Zachary was effectively untouchable. Blades, arrows, firearms—none of them posed any real threat. Bullets ricocheted harmlessly; swords bent or shattered on contact. In traditional combat, this granted him an overwhelming advantage. Most opponents faltered the moment they realized their attacks were futile.
Still, he understood that invulnerability was merely a capability, not a solution. Whether or not to use it remained his choice.
His agility had reached absurd levels. Moving at speeds exceeding a tenth of the speed of light, dodging attacks, crossing continents in seconds, or outrunning explosions and collapsing structures had become trivial. At such velocity, nearly every weapon designed for humans was irrelevant.
That said, such speed carried inherent risks. Even a minor collision could release enough kinetic energy to level a building. Precision wasn't optional—it was essential.
Zachary's vitality had advanced just as dramatically. Cuts, fractures, even dismemberments healed almost instantly, provided his heart and brain remained intact. Battles that would obliterate ordinary humans now amounted to little more than inconveniences.
Yet power came with subtle dangers. Overconfidence, for one. Believing himself invincible could blind him to threats beyond physical force—reality-altering phenomena, targeted neurological attacks, or forces operating outside conventional laws.
His resilience extended to extreme environments as well. Blazing heat, crushing cold, the vacuum of space—it made little difference. Lava, subzero oceans, meteor impacts were largely irrelevant. This made him an unparalleled explorer and combatant, but it also distorted his perception of risk. What terrified others barely registered to him, and that might lead to recklessness if someone else were in his position.
Mentally, his analytical capacity continued to rise, approaching that of a quantum computer. He could process vast amounts of data instantly, calculate trajectories and probabilities with near-perfect accuracy, and simulate complex systems in real time. It allowed him to anticipate enemy actions and adapt faster than anyone else.
With that level of cognitive capability, processing World Runes became significantly faster. He could uncover more in far less time—an important advantage, given his intention to delve into the World Codex to address the remaining gaps his physical abilities couldn't fully cover
His control over his Life Code had improved as well. Zachary could manipulate every cell in his body, using Soul Energy to reinforce them individually. Most of his refinement focused on the Material Edict, with minor adjustments made to his Mind and Soul Codes alongside it. The changes were invisible, but the effects were profound.
The steady flow of Soul Energy had also stabilized him enough to explore a new branch of the Existence Code: the World Codex.
All realities existed as layers of World Code "sheets," stacked endlessly. Each sheet defined the rules, constants, and variables of a given reality. With sufficient understanding, manipulating existence itself became theoretically possible.
Zachary had only begun scratching the surface of this world's Codex, and since he could still be considered as a mortal now, he can't speedrun things. Not anymore.
The foundational layers—gravity, time, matter, energy—were familiar territory from his past life. Deeper layers governed causality, probability, consciousness, and even life itself, regardless of how deceptively simple it was often assumed to be.
One misstep could collapse a sheet—or worse, unravel everything built upon it. The potential was intoxicating, but it demanded patience, precision, and restraint.
The World Codex was not universal. Every world possessed its own configuration of sheets. Some realities were 'shallow', composed of only a few thousand layers. Others were staggeringly 'deep', built upon tens of thousands of interdependent structures. The difference determined how stable a world was and how far its inhabitants could evolve.
A lower-grade world might possess roughly three thousand sheets, with simple hierarchies and predictable development. Higher-grade worlds exceeded fifteen thousand layers, incorporating recursive causality and abstract governing mechanisms. Such worlds advanced slowly—but when they did, the results were extraordinary.
World placement was determined not by size or population, but by depth, density and coherence.
Aggrae world fell into a top-lower tier. It could support supernatural phenomena and Code manipulation, but it lacked the depth to resist external overwrites indefinitely.
Zachary made a mental note of that—then returned to the present.
He deliberately restrained his strength while sparring with his father. Absolute cellular control made matching Neil's physical attributes effortless, allowing both of them to identify flaws in technique. Zachary had stopped counting their sessions weeks ago—not because the number was too high, but because it no longer mattered.
Neil Bohrson was, after all, only a 'slightly' enhanced human. Compared to Zachary, himself.
Through observation, Zachary learned that the Royal Clan had never been ignorant of Eli's Staff potential. They had long developed stable concoctions capable of pushing ordinary men beyond human limits. Distribution, however, was tightly controlled.
Neil himself had received such a concoction years ago, despite refusing to participate in the Battle for the Throne. Given that only the reigning king and select candidates could receive Malais Ichor, it was clear that Neil Bohrson remained a highly valued member of the Royal Clan.
The first time Neil dragged Zachary into the hidden training center, his true nature became obvious within minutes.
Neil was a combat fanatic.
He had assumed experience would carry him through. What he didn't know was that Zachary retained combat knowledge from his past life. That misunderstanding vanished the moment Zachary began fighting with flourish instead of brute force. Though he still need some time to familiarize his current body with his movement. The hand-eyes coordination and all that.
Neil refused to yield. Zachary were forced to knocked him unconscious. Every single time.
Neil always recovered within hours—another testament to the absurd vitality granted by Malais Ichor.