Harem Of Eternal Yandere Beasts: My Legendary Wives

Chapter 78: The Inheritance

The world changed. It didn’t alter with a catastrophic explosion, a deafening roar, or the terrifying sight of a cosmic entity tearing apart the fabric of the sky. It changed because of a single, unmoving number hovering directly before Orion’s eyes.

◈ FINAL INHERITANCE CONDITION MET ◈

*Successor Candidate Confirmed.*

*Beginning Transfer... 1%*

◈ ◈ ◈

The Old Bastard had gone completely pale, the Founder projection looked utterly horrified, and the surrounding Hunters could do nothing but stare. Orion realized right then that this sequence wasn’t supposed to happen now—and perhaps, it was never supposed to happen at all.

### The Awakening (3%)

The transfer metric climbed steadily. As it ticked to 2%, the Sovereign Core inside Orion’s chest erupted, sending a violent shockwave of golden energy exploding outward from his body. The sheer pressure cracked the solid stone beneath his feet, causing the entire Hall of Founders to groan under the strain. Runes carved centuries ago flashed to life in unison across the academy grounds, reacting as though something far older than the institution itself had suddenly opened its eyes.

Orion dropped to one knee, a sharp agony lancing through him. It wasn’t physical pain, but something infinitely deeper—a sensation like his very soul was being stretched, dismantled, and meticulously rebuilt all at once.

When the transfer reached 3%, the academy vanished entirely.

He found himself suspended in an endless, suffocating darkness. Then, billions of stars ignited across the void, revealing an entire universe of drifting worlds, galaxies, and fractured dimensions hanging precariously in space.

"What am I seeing?" Orion asked aloud.

"Everything," an unfamiliar voice answered.

Orion froze. The voice didn’t belong to the Old Bastard, the Founder, or Caelum. It was ancient, impossibly resonant, and carried a weight that made reality tremble.

A figure materialized out of the dark: a young man with black hair, piercing golden eyes, simple robes, and a plain sword slung at his waist. It was the First Sovereign—not the corrupted monster thrashing in the sky, but the whole, unblemished original.

The man offered a small, surprisingly casual smile. "Hello."

Orion immediately disliked how normal he looked. The architect of history’s greatest disaster shouldn’t resemble an ordinary scholar, yet here he was, folding his arms comfortably.

"You’re wondering why everyone blames me," the First Sovereign noted.

"Shouldn’t they?"

The man let out a short laugh. "Fair point."

He was surprisingly reasonable, which somehow made the entire situation feel significantly worse. Turning his gaze back toward the cosmos, the First Sovereign’s smile faded. "I failed. The admission is simple enough. I thought I could push the boundaries further and become something greater. I succeeded, and I assume that was the ultimate problem."

### The Foundation of Reality

As he spoke, the stars began to move, and Orion realized they weren’t stars at all—they were entire realities. Connecting them were billions of intricate golden threads woven into a massive, interconnected network that maintained existence itself.

"The Foundation," the First Sovereign said, pointing toward the web. "The mechanism holding reality together. The Sovereign Path wasn’t created to make individuals stronger, Orion. It was created because reality was actively dying."

To emphasize his point, the stars began to dim. Several worlds abruptly vanished, others collapsed under their own weight, and the golden network visibly frayed. The sight was profoundly wrong, evoking the stomach-turning sensation of watching a body bleed out.

"The Foundation requires anchors," the First Sovereign explained softly. "Someone must constantly hold the weight of the parameters. Someone always must."

The pieces finally clicked into place for Orion. The Sovereign Path, the layers of ancient seals, the sacrifices, and the legendary locks—everything pointed toward the exact same grim conclusion. The path wasn’t a gift of supreme power; it was a cosmic sentence of absolute responsibility.

The First Sovereign smiled sadly. "Now you’re beginning to understand."

The celestial imagery shifted, focusing on a lone cultivator standing beneath the weight of countless worlds, golden chains extending directly from his body to hold the fracturing realities together. The figure looked exactly like Caelum.

Orion’s stomach dropped. "No."

"Yes," the First Sovereign countered gently, looking genuinely apologetic. "Heroes always make terrible decisions."

### Return to the Field (5%)

The transfer progress hit 5%, and the vision shattered instantly. Orion was violently slammed back into his physical body on the academy battlefield.

Above, the creature roared as the sky widened further. Massive golden chains stretched across the heavens, and Caelum stood firmly at the center of the array. Blood dripped heavily from his mouth, his eyes, and dozens of rupturing wounds that hadn’t existed seconds prior. The activation of the Lock was actively tearing him apart.

The Hunters had stopped their assault entirely, staring up at the ancient prison reforming around the seal. Lyra closed her eyes, her face tight with a brief flash of genuine grief. Despite their years of bitter conflict, she cared.

Caelum looked down at her, offering a small, quiet smile of mutual understanding. There were no dramatic final speeches—just a silent acknowledgment of the end. Then, he turned his gaze to Orion.

The transfer climbed to 7%.

The Old Bastard looked on the verge of absolute panic. "That’s transferring too fast!"

"Far too fast!" the Founder agreed frantically. "Stop the progression!"

"I don’t know how to stop it!" the Old Bastard snapped. "You created the architecture!"

"That was several catastrophes ago!"

The Founder stared at him. "You actually categorize your catastrophes?"

"You don’t?" the Old Bastard shot back, pointing wildly at the sky.

"Of course I do!" the Founder offendedly yelled.

The two ancient entities fell back into a frantic argument, but the total lack of confidence in their voices did more to worry Orion than the impending transfer itself.

### The Void and the King (10%)

Then, the true anomaly shifted. It wasn’t the First Sovereign moving, but the gargantuan shape still emerging from the darkness behind him. For the first time, a portion of its massive face became visible, and Orion immediately wished it hadn’t.

There were no eyes, no mouth, and no defining features—only a living, breathing void. It was a localized hole in existence shaped like a creature, and merely looking at it inflicted physical pain. Several weaker academy students collapsed to the flagstones instantly, instructors lost consciousness, and even Gold-ranked cultivators staggered under the conceptual weight of its presence.

The System interface flickered wildly before Orion’s eyes, the text glitching and corrupting into static.

```

◈ MYTHIC SUMMONING SYSTEM ◈

Designation: ██████

Threat Level: ██████

Recommendation: ██████

◈ ◈ ◈

```

The data was completely censored, or perhaps the system lacked the parameters to compute its existence.

Suddenly, Caelum let out a ragged, echoing laugh. "You finally saw it."

The comment wasn’t meant for Orion; it was directed entirely at the Old Bastard, who had gone completely silent. "Yes," the ancient man whispered. "Unfortunately."

The Founder stared at the void creature and began swearing with an impressive, highly creative vocabulary that left several nearby Hunters looking visibly impressed.

Then, the First Sovereign did something that froze everyone in their tracks. He deliberately stepped *in front* of the void creature, taking a protective stance. He wasn’t serving the entity behind him—he was shielding it. The entity in the deep mattered infinitely more than the Sovereign himself.

The transfer metric hit 10%.

A blinding explosion of golden light erupted from Orion as his Sovereign Core cracked. It wasn’t fracturing from damage; it was breaking open like a shell. An immense, ancient authority began to bleed into the environment.

The First Sovereign snapped his head toward Orion, his expression changing instantly. For the first time since the seal broke, pure, unadulterated fear flashed across his face. He pointed a trembling hand toward the steps.

"No," the First Sovereign whispered, his voice echoing across the silent plaza.

The void creature stopped its advance. The Hunters, the Founder, and even Caelum froze in astonishment. The First Sovereign wasn’t looking at the inheritance transfer progress, nor was he looking at Orion himself. He was looking at whatever was actively awakening *inside* Orion’s soul—and the entity that had once shattered reality was utterly terrified of it.

The system notification flared brighter than the sun, written in a language far older than human script.

◈ FINAL INHERITANCE ◈

*Transfer Progress: 10%*

*Unlocking First Authority...*

* **Designation:** THE KING’S RIGHT

* **Status:** SEALED

*Preparing Release Sequence...*

◈ ◈ ◈

The Old Bastard’s face lost every remaining drop of color. The Founder closed his eyes, whispering a phrase Orion had never heard the legendary projection utter before: "Oh no."

And far beyond the shattered sky, something deep within the void answered the call.