"So, you're telling me this... relic... could split the dormitory in two if I swung it?"
"Absolutely," Wisdom confirmed, her tone calm yet assertive. "Do you realize the significance of wielding such an artifact? It's not just any relic—this is a cornerstone of divine narratives, a symbol infused with the collective belief of an entire continent. Right now, that mace is the most renowned artifact in the land, thanks to the story you've carried it through."
"The most renowned?" Beydia murmured, the weight of her words sinking in. He glanced toward the storage dimension where the mace rested. "So, you're saying I’ve been carrying a literal divine weapon this whole time?"
Wisdom chuckled softly. "It’s more than that. This isn’t just a relic from some forgotten god. It’s the very embodiment of a legend—one that you’ve helped shape. Every believer, every player who knows Yastora's story, their faith fuels its strength. You’ve turned it into something extraordinary."
Beydia couldn't suppress a groan. "What did the gods think, handing me something this dangerous?!"
He stood abruptly, pacing the room. The thought of wielding an artifact capable of destroying buildings made his palms sweat.
"Don’t worry," Wisdom reassured him, her voice tinged with amusement. "A relic like that, as powerful as it is, wouldn’t harm you. You’ve been chosen as its wielder. The divine power it holds will always recognize and protect you."
"Sure, but the room doesn’t have the same immunity, does it?!" Beydia gestured to his surroundings. "I’d be branded a terrorist if I even tried to take it out in public!"
His memories drifted to the earlier incident. After the mace's power wreaked havoc on his room, everything miraculously reset. The shattered walls and scattered furniture had reassembled themselves as though time had rewound.
"...And then there’s that. I wished my room could clean itself up, and it actually happened! The mess literally rewound itself to how it was before. It felt like time went backward."
Wisdom tilted her head, her gaze narrowing in curiosity. "Is that so? You invoked temporal reversal... interesting."
She began muttering to herself, her words too quiet for Beydia to catch. Then, after a long pause, she turned back to him with a glint in her eye.
"Beydia, you’ve awakened divine powers."
"Divine powers?!" Beydia's voice cracked.
Wisdom nodded with an encouraging smile. "Yes, divine powers. The ability to manipulate and manifest miracles is no small feat, you know. Reversing time—even on a localized scale—requires immense divine energy. Only gods with considerable power or specific authority over time could accomplish such a feat."
Beydia's jaw dropped. "Wait... you’re saying I did that?!"
Wisdom clapped her hands in delight. "Indeed! You didn’t just wield the relic's power; you channeled its essence. That level of control is unheard of for mortals. Even ascended deities often struggle to master such feats immediately after their apotheosis. But you? You did it like it was second nature!"
Beydia felt his knees weaken. "So... what does that mean for me?"
Wisdom's smile softened, her gaze filled with a strange mixture of reverence and excitement. "It means that you’re not just a mortal playing at heroics. Whether you remember it or not, you possess a connection to the divine. The way you wielded that power—like someone who’s handled divinity before—proves it."
She leaned closer, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Perhaps you were destined to ascend all along. I, for one, cannot wait for the day you join me among the stars, Beydia."
As she said this, she hooked her arm through his, leaning close enough that her warmth pressed against him. The soft pressure of her touch, along with the gentle warmth radiating from her, sent a jolt of confusion through him.
But Beydia’s mind raced too fast to focus on the physical closeness.
"Wait, if I really have divine powers... does that mean the body I’ve inherited wasn’t an ordinary academy student to begin with?"
He glanced at his hands, trembling slightly as the realization took root. What was he? Or more importantly... who had he become?
***
Deep beneath the continent, in the heart of a cavern that no mortal eyes could hope to reach, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness.
“So, this is the place.”
The voice was neither distinctly male nor female, its tones carrying an eerie resonance. It belonged to a being from the depths of the dimensional abyss, one whose form defied comprehension—a swirling amalgamation of shadow and malice.
This entity had descended to this forsaken realm for one purpose: to find â̵̳̅ļ̴̛̤͓̩̙̜͙͚̜̎̀͂̉͒͜i̵̧̡̜͔̩̘͒͗̉̓͜͝c̶̛̘̦̟̪͓̼͍͚̃̄̍̔͆̑̏̓͌̑̏̈̉̏e̶̢̛̹̼͇̩̥̩͎̠̫̝̥̥̋̿̈́̇̀̎͗̀͋͊̍͂̿͗͜.
Some time ago, she had ventured into this dimension to eliminate a growing source of sin. Confident in her abilities, no one worried at first when communication with her ceased. They assumed she could handle the task, as she always had.
But her absence stretched far too long. As more manifestations of sin were wiped away in the interim, the remaining abyssal beings debated whether to intervene. The shadow had waited as long as it could. Unable to tolerate the silence, it had broken free from the abyss and entered this dimension, where â̵̳̅ļ̴̛̤͓̩̙̜͙͚̜̎̀͂̉͒͜i̵̧̡̜͔̩̘͒͗̉̓͜͝c̶̛̘̦̟̪͓̼͍͚̃̄̍̔͆̑̏̓͌̑̏̈̉̏e̶̢̛̹̼͇̩̥̩͎̠̫̝̥̋̿̈́̇̀̎͗̀͋͊̍͂̿͗ had last been seen.
“Foolish to come here alone,” it muttered to itself, surveying the emptiness around it. The sins she had eradicated had drained this realm of its already sparse energy.
Worse, the remaining power in this world was not enough to locate her. Without the aid of its kin or the resources of the abyss, the shadow had to resort to desperate measures.
It needed something—something powerful enough to break through this realm's limitations, something capable of challenging the gods without drawing their attention.
The shadow pressed on, its form undulating as it traversed deeper into the cavern, guided by faint whispers of residual energy.
The deeper it went, the heavier the air grew, thick with forgotten malice and latent power.
Guoooooooh...
The sound echoed from the depths, a reverberation that made even the shadow hesitate momentarily. It followed the source, until finally, at the very bottom of the cavern, it found it:
A massive, dark crystal, pulsating faintly with imprisoned rage. Inside was a colossal, serpentine creature, bound in an eternal slumber.
The shadow's form quivered with satisfaction as it gazed upon the sealed monstrosity.
“The Dark Dragon... Beidos.”
The ancient, corrupted being who had once ruled the now-obliterated Beidos Empire. A creature that embodied destruction, ruin, and defiance of divine order.
It was the perfect candidate for the shadow's needs.
***
In the dim solitude of his academy dormitory, Crown Prince Raizeol lay curled up, his mind swirling with unresolved emotions.
A father in love with the same woman.
An impossible love, a rival in his own bloodline.
He had avoided logging into [Akashic Archive] for some time, unable to face the in-game presence of the woman he loved, Versia, without thinking of his father’s looming shadow.
Instead, he buried himself in his duties—studying to become the empire's successor and learning the intricacies of governance. Yet the news of a new story update, the second episode of the series, finally broke his resolve.
“I can’t avoid it any longer.”
He stood up, the determination in his voice masking the turmoil inside.
“No matter what trials await, I will face them head-on.”
Logging back into the game, he reunited briefly with Versia, exchanged pleasantries, and prepared for the updated storyline. The next moment, guided by Queen Tistina, he was thrust into the tale of the heroic chieftain Yastora—an ancient legend who stood alone to protect his people against a sprawling empire.
Raizeol watched Yastora in awe.
"A leader who sacrifices his life for his followers... A man who embodies the ideal of strength and selflessness.”
For a prince burdened with the weight of leadership, Yastora was more than a hero; he was an inspiration.
So when the fateful moment came—when Yastora prepared to make his stand against the imperial army alone—Raizeol couldn’t bear to let him face it. He defied the narrative and followed the chieftain.
"Raizeol, didn’t you hear my orders?" Yastora’s deep, commanding voice snapped at him as they stood amidst the chaos of the battlefield.
"Orders to retreat? Apologies, but I’m a warrior. I don’t retreat."
"I said countercharge, not retreat... Hah, fine. At least you’re no coward. You’re strong—stronger than I expected."
"Of course. And you, Yastora, you better not falter."
Fighting side by side, they pushed back wave after wave of imperial soldiers. The prince felt his admiration for Yastora deepen with every strike of the chieftain’s massive weapon, every bellowed command that rallied their dwindling forces.
When they finally had the chance, Raizeol moved to lead Yastora toward safety. They had almost succeeded, reaching the edge of the encroaching snowstorm. Just a few more steps, and they would have left the imperial forces behind.
But fate, cruel and unyielding, intervened.
Thwack!
A single magical arrow pierced through the storm, bypassing Raizeol’s outstretched sword and striking Yastora.
"Yastora!"
Raizeol screamed, but his body had begun to fade, growing transparent as if reality itself rejected his presence.
"It seems your time in this story is over."
Queen Tistina’s voice echoed from behind him, calm and composed.
"Wait! No!"
He reached out for Yastora, who now knelt, weakened, as imperial soldiers closed in. Raizeol knew what would happen. He knew the story’s ending, yet he couldn’t stop himself from trying to change it.
But it was too late.
Flash!
In an instant, he was flung out of the narrative, the world of the story disappearing in a burst of light.
Back in the game’s hub, Raizeol clenched his fists.
"I told you to wait, Tistina!"
Spinning around, he attempted to grab her, but she vanished like a wisp of smoke, reappearing behind him.
"You were quite immersed, weren’t you? I did warn you that the story’s conclusion was already written."
Her words pierced him, not with malice, but with an undeniable truth.
The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.
Raizeol took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. He had known all along—both the historical ending and the in-game one. Yastora’s sacrifice was inevitable. It was the cornerstone of the story, and nothing he did could change it.
Still, for a brief moment, he had forgotten. He had been consumed by the role of a warrior, losing sight of the reality outside the story.
"I acted shamefully. I apologize."
"No need," Tistina said, smiling faintly. "It seems you learned a great deal."
"That I did," Raizeol admitted, reflecting on Yastora’s unyielding courage and selflessness. For a crown prince, the lessons were invaluable—a true mentor disguised as a tale.
And yet, the thought lingered.
"There are... eleven more of these stories, aren’t there?"
Tistina’s expression shifted into a knowing grin.
"Indeed. Shall we begin the next lesson?"
"Wait, already—"
Before he could finish, a blinding light engulfed him.
When his vision returned, Raizeol found himself facing another overwhelming sight:
"How dare you defy the eternal and magnificent divinity of the Celestial Dragon Beidos! Heresy! You shall be judged here and now!"