The library had grown quieter.
The two students remained at the same wooden table, surrounded by shelves that seemed to stretch endlessly into the darkness.
The curious student was still staring at the final page of the previous chapter.
His tired companion, however, had already wandered between the shelves.
Several minutes passed.
Then his voice echoed through the aisle.
“Hey.
Come here.”
The curious student looked up.
“What?”
“I found what you were looking for.”
He immediately stood.
“You found the next chapter?”
“Yep.”
The tired student returned carrying several enormous books.
The curious student stared at them.
They weren’t different volumes of the same history.
They were completely different books.
Different titles.
Different authors.
Different eras.
Yet every one of them carried the same strange phrase somewhere on its cover.
THE LAST SERIES.
The curious student picked one up.
“What kind of name is that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Who wrote them?”
The tired student shrugged.
“That’s what I’m wondering.”
He placed the books onto the table.
“There are more than twenty stories here.
Different titles.
Different periods.
Some are about kingdoms.
Some are about wars.
Some are about gods.”
He pointed toward the collection.
“But somehow, they’re all connected.”
The curious student’s eyes brightened.
“Then let’s find out how.”
He opened the second volume.
The first page contained only one title.
BIRTH OF THE DEAD PRINCE
The curious student began reading.
And the library disappeared.
For the two students, the turning of a single page became a journey backward through centuries of history.
Back to a kingdom whose name would eventually become legendary.
Back to the day when an impossible child entered the world.
THE BIRTH
There was a kingdom unlike any other in the mortal world.
The Augustus Empire.
It was ruled by the Augusta royal family, a dynasty whose name had become synonymous with victory.
Throughout history, another name had been given to Augustus:
The Kingdom of Heroes.
Legends claimed that if even a single warrior of Augustus entered a battlefield, the fate of the battle itself could change.
Not because every soldier was immortal.
Not because every warrior possessed divine power.
But because the empire had never lost a battle.
Not once.
For generations, Augustus had fought enemies of every kind and continued standing.
Human kingdoms feared its armies.
Other races respected its nobles.
Even the gods were said to acknowledge the strength of the Augusta bloodline.
Yet Augustus possessed a strange characteristic.
Despite its enormous military strength, the royal family rarely entered wars themselves.
Politics prevented it.
The empire maintained diplomatic relationships with several powerful noble houses belonging to other races.
Among them were the demon House of Erebus and the dragon House of Noctis.
While wars continued across countless borders, Augustus maintained a strange island of stability within its own territory.
And on one particular day, that stability was interrupted by a birth.
A prince.
The third prince of the Augustus Empire.
Inside the royal palace, celebration filled the halls.
Servants hurried through corridors.
Nobles gathered.
Family members smiled.
The royal household celebrated the birth of another prince.
It was supposed to be a day of happiness.
Until someone screamed.
“Move!”
Everyone turned.
A senior healer rushed toward the royal chamber.
“Bring me the red stones!”
His voice trembled.
“And summon every healer immediately!”
Several servants ran.
The atmosphere inside the palace changed instantly.
The celebration disappeared.
Panic replaced it.
The doors opened again.
A man entered in great haste.
The Archbishop of the Imperial Church.
His expression immediately became serious.
“Move aside.”
The healers stepped away.
“Let me see the prince.”
He approached the newborn.
Then he froze.
“What happened?”
A senior healer lowered his head.
“We’re too late.”
The Archbishop stared at him.
“What do you mean?”
“The prince’s body is extremely cold.”
He swallowed.
“He isn’t breathing.”
Silence filled the chamber.
“We can’t even properly touch him.
His body is colder than ice itself.”
For a moment, the Archbishop simply stared at the newborn.
Then he refused to accept what he was seeing.
“No.”
He stepped forward.
“I’ll examine him myself.”
He raised his hand.
His Shinkai awakened.
A mist spread throughout the chamber.
The atmosphere immediately became oppressive.
The Archbishop’s eyes began to bleed.
Marks appeared across his skin.
Cracks resembling burns spread along his arms.
Still, he continued.
He forced more power into his healing technique.
This was not ordinary healing.
It was among the strongest healing abilities possessed by the Imperial Church.
A technique capable of restoring someone who had already crossed the boundary between life and death.
Yet something was wrong.
The technique couldn’t find anything to restore.
The Archbishop’s expression became increasingly confused.
He pushed himself harder.
His hair slowly began turning white.
His skin became pale.
Years seemed to pass across his body within seconds.
A young man became an old man before everyone’s eyes.
Still, he refused to stop.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Nothing.
The newborn remained completely motionless.
Finally, the Archbishop’s power faded.
His hand dropped.
The room became silent.
“We failed.”
The words sounded almost impossible to say.
He turned toward the queen.
“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty.”
His voice was weak.
“It seems we have failed in carrying out our mission.”
The queen didn’t answer.
Liliyana Augusta simply walked forward.
Her eyes were filled with tears.
She took her newborn son into her arms.
He was cold.
Completely still.
She pressed him against her chest.
And cried.
“My son…”
Her voice trembled.
“My poor son.”
Around her, the room began to break emotionally.
Servants lowered their heads.
Healers wept.
Some members of the royal family couldn’t even look at the child.
Liliyana hugged him tighter.
Then—
Something touched her cheek.
She froze.
Slowly, she opened her eyes.
A tiny hand rested against her face.
She stared.
The entire room became silent.
The prince was alive.
Liliyana’s tears stopped.
A smile slowly appeared on her face.
“My son…”
She pulled him closer.
“He’s alive.”
Everyone stared.
The healers couldn’t understand it.
The Archbishop couldn’t understand it.
No healing technique had revived him.
Because perhaps…
He had never been dead.
The thought itself seemed impossible.
Yet there he was.
Alive.
The narrator’s voice seemed to emerge from the history itself.
Can we call something alive that was never born?
The baby simply looked around.
He didn’t cry.
He didn’t scream.
He didn’t move restlessly like an ordinary newborn.
He simply watched.
His eyes were different.
One was yellow.
The other was blue.
Two colors stared silently into the world.
Everyone in the chamber felt it.
Something about this child was different.
There was no panic.
No fear.
No visible desire.
No ordinary curiosity.
Only an unnatural calm.
And beneath that calm…
Emptiness.
Then another woman stepped forward.
The prince’s stepmother, Ilyra Augusta.
She looked at the newborn and smiled.
“Then we should give him his name.”
She carefully took the baby into her arms.
“Hmm…”
She thought for a moment.
“Perhaps…”
She smiled.
“Violet Augusta Seraphina Devurex.”
Liliyana immediately looked up.
“Oh, no.”
Ilyra blinked.
“What?”
“He’s my son.”
Liliyana reached toward the baby.
“You don’t get to name him.”
Ilyra frowned.
“Why not?
He’s my son as well.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“Oh, yes, he is.”
The argument continued.
For a moment, the impossible child was forgotten beneath an ordinary family dispute.
Meanwhile, farther back in the chamber, the Emperor of Augustus, Aurelius Augusta, sat with one of his sons.
He watched the two queens argue over the newborn.
Neither queen noticed that their emotions were beginning to affect their Shinkai.
The atmosphere changed.
The pressure inside the chamber increased.
The surrounding air seemed heavier.
Their Shinkai began responding to their emotions.
But before either queen could completely manifest her power—
Silver mist appeared.
The entire room froze.
Everyone immediately dropped to their knees.
The doors opened.
An elven woman entered.
She wore the robes of the Imperial Church.
She was an elf.
Yet she held a position within the Augustus Empire because of the empire’s close diplomatic relationships with noble houses of other races.
Her name was Elyandra Vaelith.
She calmly walked into the chamber.
She looked at the two queens.
Then at the baby.
For a long moment, she said nothing.
She approached him.
Her eyes met his mismatched eyes.
Yellow.
Blue.
Then she smiled.
“Why don’t we give him two names?”
Both queens stopped arguing.
Elyandra continued.
“We can make an exception for this child.”
She looked down at him.
“Because he is an exception himself.”
The room remained silent.
“I can see it in his eyes.”
She gently touched the baby’s forehead.
“This child will change the world itself.”
She turned toward Liliyana.
“So, Your Majesty…”
“What name do you wish to give him?”
Liliyana looked at her son.
She remained silent for a moment.
Then she answered:
“Nihil Mora.”
Several people exchanged confused glances.
“Nihil?”
“What kind of name is that?”
Liliyana didn’t care.
“It’s unique.”
She looked into her baby’s eyes.
“And for some reason…”
Her voice softened.
“My instincts tell me that’s what my baby wants.”
Elyandra nodded.
“Then Nihil Mora it shall be.”
She looked at the child again.
“From this day forward, he will have two names.”
She paused.
“Nihil Mora.”
Then she spoke the second name.
“Violet Augusta Seraphina Devurex.”
The prince remained silent.
His yellow and blue eyes continued staring into the room.
Elyandra then made another announcement.
“I will take responsibility for him.”
Liliyana looked at her.
“What?”
“I will become his tutor and caretaker.”
Ilyra raised an eyebrow.
“But aren’t you an Archbishop?”
Elyandra smiled.
“Then I resign.”
Everyone stared.
Elyandra removed the symbol of her office.
“From this day forward, I will take care of Prince Nihil.”
She turned toward Aurelius.
“Is that acceptable, Your Majesty?”
Aurelius sighed.
“As much as I hate to say it…”
He glanced toward his newborn son.
“…you aren’t going to leave him alone even if I tell you to.”
A faint smile appeared.
“So do as you wish.”
His expression became serious.
“But take good care of my son.”
“Teach him well.”
“Teach him well.”
The words settled over the chamber.
Liliyana immediately protested.
“No!”
She held Nihil closer.
“I don’t want to leave my baby with this monster of a bishop!”
Ilyra nodded.
“For once, I agree with you.”
She looked at the newborn.
“Poor baby.”
Elyandra simply smiled.
And the baby continued staring.
Yellow eye.
Blue eye.
No crying.
No fear.
No expression.
No visible understanding of the world.
Or perhaps…
An understanding far beyond it.
The curious student slowly lowered the book.
For several seconds, neither student spoke.
The tired student finally broke the silence.
“So…”
He rubbed his eyes.
“That’s the Dead Prince?”
The curious student kept staring at the page.
“Apparently.”
“He wasn’t dead.”
“No.”
“He wasn’t even born normally.”
“No.”
The tired student sighed.
“That’s going to become a problem.”
The curious student smiled.
“Definitely.”
He turned the page.
There was no explanation.
No answer.
Only another title.
THE AUGUSTUS EMPIRE.
The curious student leaned closer.
“So that’s what happens next.”
His tired friend groaned.
“We’re going to be here all night, aren’t we?”
The curious student turned another page.
“Probably.”
And somewhere within the ancient history they were reading, a child who had supposedly been born dead had just opened his eyes.
The world had not yet realized what had entered it.
But history already had a name for him.
Nihil Mora.
The Dead Prince of Augustus.