Everyone stood within the ancient hall, gazing at the man seated upon the enormous throne with the utmost reverence and veneration.
Not a single person dared to regard him as an ordinary man.
For the person seated before them was not merely an emperor.
Nor was he merely the ruler of humanity.
He was the man who had forced the entire world, through his overwhelming power and merciless brutality, to acknowledge him as the greatest man ever to walk upon the planet Gandalia.
Emperor Fafnir.
The True Sovereign of Humanity.
The man who, five thousand years ago, had led humanity out of its fate as a weak race struggling merely to survive and elevated it to the ranks of the supreme races.
His legend was not recorded solely in the annals of humanity.
His name was inscribed in the records of every race.
Even the supreme races themselves...
still taught their young prodigies about that legendary human emperor.
About the man who had forced the mightiest beings in Gandalia to acknowledge that humanity was a race that could never be underestimated.
About the man who had stood before enemies who vastly outnumbered and outmatched him, only to force them, through his overwhelming power and ruthless nature, to acknowledge humanity's existence.
The mere name Fafnir was enough to awaken memories of a bloody age that had ended thousands of years ago.
And yet...
that very same man was now sitting upon the throne in the form of a withered old man.
A terrifyingly emaciated body.
Dry skin clinging tightly to his bones.
Pale white hair hanging lifelessly around his shoulders.
He looked like a corpse that had crawled out of an ancient grave.
But no one present dared to look down upon him because of his appearance.
They all knew very well that the body before them did not represent the entirety of the truth.
After several moments of silence, Valor took a small step forward.
His eyes remained fixed upon Fafnir, but unmistakable concern had appeared within them.
He spoke hesitantly:
"My lord..."
He paused for a moment.
Then asked:
"Your injury... has it healed?"
Silence descended upon the hall.
The question itself was simple.
But the deep concern behind it was unmistakable.
Fafnir looked at him without answering immediately.
At that moment, Morgana stepped forward slightly.
She stared at Fafnir's withered body, unable to hide the sorrow in her eyes.
Then she asked in a trembling voice:
"And your appearance..."
She hesitated for a moment before continuing:
"Why have you become such an old man, my lord?"
Fafnir lowered his eyes toward his hand.
His fingers were thin and dry, as though they belonged to a corpse that had been dead for centuries.
Then he calmly said:
"My injury has not healed yet."
The eyes of all four widened.
Fafnir continued:
"Therefore, I need cosmic treasures and cosmic herbs so that I can heal my injury and recover my strength."
The moment they heard his words, the expressions of Thorin, Valor, Eleanor, and Morgana changed.
The joy that had filled their eyes moments ago disappeared.
It was replaced by deep concern.
Thorin asked anxiously:
"After five thousand years... your injury still hasn't healed?"
Fafnir answered calmly:
"No."
Thorin clenched his fist.
Valor's expression darkened as well.
They knew just how terrifying the injury their lord had suffered five thousand years ago had been.
Yet they had hoped that, after all these years, that injury would have become nothing more than a distant memory.
Eleanor quickly stepped forward.
She spoke firmly, despite the concern evident in her voice:
"Do not worry, my lord."
She placed a hand over her chest.
"The moment I leave this place, I will bring you an enormous quantity of cosmic treasures and rare herbs."
She smiled confidently.
"I will search all across Gandalia if I have to."
Then she looked at his withered body.
"I will help you restore your former appearance."
She continued:
"And your former strength as well."
Fafnir looked at her for several moments.
Then a faint smile appeared on his face.
He nodded.
"Very well."
It was a simple word.
Yet it brought a clear sense of relief to Eleanor.
Fafnir then raised his head and looked at the four pillars of humanity.
He said:
"But before that..."
He paused.
"I want you to tell me everything that happened after I entered seclusion five thousand years ago."
The four exchanged glances.
The question itself was simple.
But the answer...
carried an entire history of blood and defeat.
Finally, Valor took a deep breath.
Then said:
"After you entered seclusion, my lord..."
He paused briefly.
"News of your injury and disappearance spread among the other supreme races."
Fafnir's expression did not change.
Valor continued:
"But they did not attack us immediately."
He raised one finger.
"They waited for an entire century."
Fafnir's eyes narrowed slightly.
"One hundred years?"
Valor nodded.
"Yes."
Then his tone changed.
"And when you did not appear during those hundred years..."
He clenched his fist.
"The other six races formed an alliance."
Silence descended.
"Then they invaded our lands."
Valor's voice carried a deep bitterness.
"Their forces were enormous."
"We fought."
"We resisted."
"But..."
He lowered his head slightly.
"They annihilated sixty percent of our army."
Silence filled the hall.
Even the officials standing behind the four pillars lowered their heads.
The memories of that ancient war still wounded them.
Valor continued:
"Then they drove us into the Zeta Continent."
Several of the officials held their breath.
He said:
"They seized our lands."
"They seized our resources."
"And they destroyed most of what we had built."
Then he raised his eyes toward Fafnir.
"But they stopped."
Fafnir asked:
"Why?"
Valor answered:
"Because they feared you."
Silence.
"They did not dare annihilate our race completely."
Then he said:
"They feared that you might return one day."
His eyes paused for a moment.
"And they feared your wrath."
At that moment, Eleanor stepped forward.
Anger was clearly visible on her face.
She spoke with a voice filled with hatred:
"Those wretched creatures..."
She clenched her fist.
"They seized all of our lands."
Then she continued:
"They took all of our resources."
"Everything we possessed."
"Everything we fought for."
Her voice trembled.
"Then they left us trapped within the Zeta Continent!"
She said furiously:
"They treated us as though we were nothing more than the remnants of a defeated race!"
The expressions of Thorin and Morgana twisted with anger.
Even the human officials standing behind them displayed obvious rage.
The memories of that humiliation had returned to their minds.
But...
none of them noticed that Fafnir had not moved.
He was completely still.
Silent.
Then...
his eyes froze.
The warmth vanished from his gaze.
It transformed into a terrifying coldness.
A coldness resembling ice that had existed for ten thousand years.
Suddenly...
a black-crimson thread seeped from his withered body.
Then another.
Then dozens.
And within moments...
a black-crimson aura erupted from his body.
BOOOOOOM!
An overwhelming pressure swept through the hall.
The walls trembled.
The throne shook.
Dust rained down from the ceiling.
Then the pressure burst out of the hall.
It engulfed the entire palace.
Then...
the entire human capital.
Outside...
the clear sky above the magnificent capital suddenly changed.
Black clouds began gathering with terrifying speed.
They covered the entire sky.
Then...
KRAAAACK!
A red bolt of lightning tore across the heavens.
Then another.
Then dozens of crimson lightning bolts began dancing between the clouds.
Millions of humans raised their heads toward the sky.
Conversations stopped.
Training stopped.
Life itself seemed to freeze for several moments.
Someone cried out in terror:
"What is this terrifying pressure?!"
Another said:
"This aura..."
His voice trembled.
"It's unbelievably savage!"
Someone looked toward the Sovereignty Palace.
"It's coming from there!"
A man swallowed hard.
"Could it be that an ancient beast that has been sleeping for thousands of years has awakened?"
No one knew the answer.
But everyone felt fear.
Meanwhile, inside the ancient hall...
the officials collapsed to the ground.
BOOM!
Some were forced onto their knees against their will.
Others were pressed flat against the floor, completely unable to move even a finger.
Never in their entire lives had they experienced such terror.
The pressure was crushing their bodies.
But worse than that...
it was crushing their very souls.
One of the officials struggled to speak:
"What... what is this power?"
No one answered him.
Yet amidst this terrifying scene...
there were four people who remained standing.
Thorin.
Valor.
Morgana.
Eleanor.
They stood before Fafnir.
But they did not feel fear.
Instead...
their eyes shone with excitement.
They knew this aura.
They had known it five thousand years ago.
It was the same aura that had appeared whenever their lord became enraged on the battlefields.
Thorin looked at Fafnir and smiled.
He said:
"He has returned..."
Valor smiled as well.
"Our lord has truly returned."
Morgana stared at the black-crimson aura with shining eyes.
"This power..."
She whispered:
"It hasn't changed."
Eleanor clenched her fist in excitement.
"Our lord has truly returned."
At that moment...
Fafnir felt immeasurable rage.
A rage that had accumulated within him as he heard what had happened to humanity during his absence.
He had returned from seclusion only to discover that the human race, which had once been one of the races that commanded immense fear and respect...
had fallen.
Its lands had been invaded.
Its resources had been plundered.
Its army had been annihilated.
Then it had been driven into a small corner of the world...
into the Zeta Continent.
A race the world had once feared...
had now become a marginalized race, incapable of resisting.
Suddenly...
Fafnir moved.
His withered body slowly began rising from the throne.
Crack...
A sound came from his bones.
Then:
Crack... crack...
The horrifying sounds of creaking bones continued.
As though his bones had not moved for countless ages.
His body rose higher.
Then he straightened completely.
Fafnir stood.
His body still resembled that of a walking corpse.
But his aura...
was something else entirely.
The aura alone was enough to crush everything around him.
He looked at the four pillars and the high-ranking officials.
Then he spoke in a majestic voice:
"Issue an absolute decree."
Everyone raised their heads.
Fafnir continued:
"Order all humans..."
His eyes paused for a moment.
"throughout the entire world..."
Then he said:
"to return to the Zeta Continent."
Silence.
Then he continued:
"Every human must return."
"And whoever disobeys this decree..."
His aura intensified.
"shall be charged with high treason against the human race."
Everyone's hearts trembled.
The order was absolute.
There would be no discussion.
No exceptions.
And no room for objection.
Valor, Thorin, Morgana, Eleanor, and the rest of the officials listened to their sovereign's command with absolute seriousness.
But Thorin carried a single question in his mind.
He raised his head.
"My sovereign..."
He paused for a moment.
Then asked:
"What is the purpose of this decree?"
Fafnir looked at him.
A heavy silence descended.
Then...
a faint smile appeared upon his face.
A smile whose meaning no one could understand.
He spoke in a majestic voice:
"The purpose?"
He paused.
Then said:
"To prepare..."
The black-crimson aura intensified.
"...for the resurrection of the human race."
Everyone froze.
Then...
excitement ignited in the eyes of the four pillars.
Valor clenched his fist.
Thorin smiled.
Morgana raised her head with excitement.
Eleanor's eyes shone brightly.
Fafnir's words did not sound like a possibility.
Nor did they sound like a dream.
They sounded like an inevitable truth.
The True Sovereign had returned.
And humanity...
was about to rise once again.