"I do know her," Lucien said at last, his lips curving into a faint smile that seed to carry both amusent and weight. His red eyes glinted faintly as he added, "And she even has a ssage for you."
Max’s entire body stiffened. His crimson aura pulsed sharply, the scarlet flas flickering like wild embers. "ssage?" he asked quickly, almost stumbling over his words. "What ssage? And how do you know her? Why isn’t she contacting directly?"
The questions poured out in rapid succession, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and frustration.
For years, so many unanswered questions had burned inside him. Why had she vanished? Why had she never reached out? Why was he left searching endlessly, while she—his sister, Freya Voidwalker—remained out of reach? Now, with Lucien standing calmly before him, all of those questions clawed to the surface at once.
But Lucien only raised a hand casually, silencing him. "Don’t flood with questions, Max. I was only told to tell you this—if I were ever to et you."
Max’s crimson eyes narrowed, his chest rising and falling quickly.
Lucien’s expression softened slightly as he delivered the words. "Her ssage was this: If you wish to et her, then reach Divine Rank as soon as possible. Otherwise... she may ascend to the Divine Realm before you can even see her. That is what she wanted to tell you."
The words crashed into Max like thunder.
His fists clenched tightly, trembling at his sides. His face twisted, his brows furrowed deeply, his crimson aura flaring wildly as his heart scread.
He wanted to et her now. Not later, not after so long, uncertain path. He was here—in the Middle Domain, so close that the very thought of her presence made his chest ache. And yet she refused. She set another wall in front of him. Why?
Why? Why? Why?!
If she could send Lucien a ssage, then she could et him. If she could et Lucien face to face, then why not him? What harm would it do? Couldn’t it remain a secret? Just the two of them—brother and sister—eting without anyone else knowing.
Instead, excuses. Distance. Obstacles.
Max’s thoughts swirled, a storm of frustration and longing crashing against each other. Questions hamred against his mind without rcy. ’Why didn’t she want to see ? Why was she avoiding ? Was she ashad? Was she protecting ? Or was it sothing else entirely?’
He wanted to scream, to rage against the cruelty of it all. But he forced himself to breathe. Slowly, painfully, he reined in his emotions, his aura settling into a steady burn rather than an explosive blaze. He closed his eyes for a mont, then opened them again, crimson irises gleaming with determination.
"...Alright." His voice was low, hoarse, but resolute. "If she wants to reach Divine Rank before seeing her, then I will. I’ll enter Divine Rank as soon as possible. No matter what it takes."
His resolve solidified, even as the ache in his chest throbbed rcilessly.
After a long silence, Max’s gaze sharpened again, locking onto Lucien. His voice steadied, though it carried the weight of all the storm raging inside him.
"By the way..." he asked quietly but firmly. "...how do you know her?"
Lucien smiled faintly, leaning back with casual confidence. "I am... kind of very famous in this world, you know," he said, his tone almost playful. "Your sister recruited —along with a few others—to create a team."
Max’s crimson eyes flickered, his jaw tightening as he absorbed those words. He slowly nodded. "I see..."
He understood imdiately what Freya was doing. Revenge. It was inevitable. In the Divine Realm, where his parents were kept hostage, a reckoning would eventually co. And when that ti arrived, she would need people—people powerful enough to carry the burden of that vengeance. People like Lucien.
With talent and strength as overwhelming as his, Lucien would surely be invaluable in that war.
But Max... Max’s lips curled faintly into a bitter smile. If it had been up to him, he would prefer to walk that path alone. As he always had. Alone, without bonds that could be twisted into chains.
’I guess she has her own way, and I have mine,’ Max thought, his crimson hair shimring faintly as his aura pulsed.
He raised his head again, his voice cutting through the silence. "Alright. I want to know one more thing before I’m done with you."
Lucien’s red eyes narrowed slightly, his smile fading. "What is it?"
Max’s gaze sharpened, curiosity burning in his voice. "Why is it that Mark is immortal and cannot be killed? Do you call him a god because you can’t kill him, or because he is a god, and thus cannot be killed?"
He leaned forward slightly, his aura flickering with restrained intensity. "I want to know. I’m very curious about Mark. As far as I know, there is no true immortality in this world. Even Divine Rank experts—at best—they live ten thousand years before their lifespans end. So why is Mark the exception? Why can’t he be killed?"
The crimson glow of Max’s eyes flared as he demanded the answer, his voice laced with both fury and dread.
"Do you know what karma is?" Lucien suddenly asked, his tone solemn and deliberate.
Max blinked, frowning. "What do you an?" That wasn’t the answer he had wanted. He wanted clarity about Mark, not riddles about abstract concepts.
Lucien’s gaze deepened, the casualness fading from his expression. "That particular topic—Mark—if I were to speak of it in detail to you now, it would create karma between you and him." His voice carried weight, sharper than before. "The laws of this world are strict, Max. Stricter than you realize. Unless your strength reaches Mythic Rank—the true Mythic Rank, not just the ability to fight above your level—you cannot free yourself from the karma that binds mortals."
He leaned back slightly, his red hair glinting in the dim light, his eyes unwavering. "If I tell you now, all you will do is create a direct karmic thread with Mark. And given the connection that already exists between you two, I’d rather you not carry that burden prematurely. It could change your path. Perhaps even end it."
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