Supreme Bloodline Evolution System

Chapter 201: A New Outfit For A King

As the weeks passed, the King of Voidstar was nowhere to be seen. No one in the kingdom would have been foolish enough to call him irresponsible after everything he had done for them, yet the same quiet question still lingered whenever people looked toward the empty throne and wondered where their king had gone.

Far from the eyes of his people, Max slowly opened his eyes beneath the soft warmth of the morning sun. It slipped through the crystal windows and spread across the room in pale gold, gently pulling him out of a sleep so deep it felt less like rest and more like sinking into still water after a storm.

For a moment, he did nothing. He simply stared at the ceiling.

Beside him, resting in the quiet warmth of the bed, were the two women who had become the closest thing he had to peace in a life that rarely allowed it. Rosalia and Agnia were still asleep, their beautiful bodies half-covered by the thin sheets that had slipped away during the night.

Their breathing was slow and even, their expressions softened into a calm they almost never permitted themselves when awake. Their curves rose and fell gently with each breath, and in the morning light they looked almost unreal.

They seemed like two fairies who had drifted down from the heavens and decided to remain in his bed instead of returning to the sky. To anyone else, they might have seemed untouchable, perfect in a way that made them feel distant.

But to Max, they were simply the two people who let him forget the kingdom for a little while. The responsibilities. The pressure. The constant awareness that so many lives depended on him.

He turned his head to look at them a moment longer, and a small smile touched his face. Then he leaned down and kissed Rosalia gently on the top of her head, then Agnia as well, careful and tender, as though even the smallest movement might disturb the fragile peace of the moment.

The two women stirred faintly, their brows twitching as they unconsciously shifted closer to his warmth. But within seconds they settled again into peaceful sleep, and Max let out a quiet chuckle.

Even now, after everything, they still refused to wake properly when they were this comfortable.

Slowly, he pushed himself out of bed without disturbing them and placed his feet against the cold crystal floor. The chill that rose through him grounded him back into the world beyond sleep.

He exhaled softly and rubbed the back of his neck as he walked toward the corner of the room.

"How many days has it been?"

He glanced back once at the bed, then returned his attention to the empty space before him.

With a small movement of his hand, colorful streams of magic gathered around his fingers. They flowed outward in shifting ribbons of red, blue, gold, silver, and countless other hues that shimmered and intertwined as his crystal magic responded to his will.

The light filled the room in soft pulses, reflecting off the walls and windows until the entire space seemed to breathe with him. The energy gathered in the empty corner before slowly solidifying into shape.

A tall frame emerged first, then a smooth reflective surface, and at last a mirror stood before him. It was simple in purpose, yet strangely meaningful in a room where he had not bothered to create one until now.

He stepped closer and looked at himself, and for a brief moment he almost failed to recognize the man staring back. Weeks had passed since he had last examined his own reflection.

He had been too busy creating, repairing, and carrying the weight of an entire race on his shoulders to care about the shape of his hair or the state of his face. But now, in the quiet of the morning, he could see the changes clearly enough to make him pause.

His fingers lifted slowly to his cheek, then to his jaw, then to his hair, and he gave a faint, almost amused breath when he realized how much it had grown.

"My hair has grown quite long," he murmured, catching a strand between his fingers and letting it fall so that it brushed nearly past his shoulders.

It was a small thing, almost meaningless in the grand scheme of everything he had done, yet somehow it made the passage of time feel more real than anything else had. He studied the reflection for another moment, then gave a quiet, thoughtful hum.

"Too long," he said, as if speaking the words aloud made the decision easier.

Multicolored light gathered in his other hand, condensing and compressing until a small, sharp knife formed between his fingers. He tilted his head slightly while looking at himself in the mirror, considering the shape of his face and the thickness of his hair.

Then he began to cut.

He did not rush it. He simply worked with steady motions, trimming away the length in careful sections until the long strands fell in soft heaps onto the crystal floor.

When he was done, his hair rested just below the top of his neck. It was still thick, still wavy, still wild enough to carry the impression of a lion’s mane, but now it was shorter and cleaner.

It framed his face in a way that made his features seem even more severe and regal than before. He studied the result for a long moment, then let out a faint smile.

The shape suited him better than the old length had. And there was something fitting about the way his hair still looked untamed even after being cut, as though no matter how much he changed, the beast inside him would never truly disappear.

But as he stood there, his thoughts drifted beyond his hair and toward something else.

If he was going to return to his people, if he was going to step back into the role of king rather than remain hidden away in this quiet room, then he did not want to do it in the same plain clothing he had worn while working himself to exhaustion.

He wanted something that belonged to him. Something that carried the weight of his title without becoming stiff or ceremonial. Something dark and commanding and unmistakably his.

Something that would still hold the defensive strength of void armor but would look less like battlefield equipment and more like the attire of a ruler who could walk into a throne room or a war zone and belong equally in both.

He folded his arms loosely and stared at his naked reflection while the idea took shape in his mind, speaking aloud as he thought through it.

"It needs to be dark," he muttered. "Deep enough to swallow light when it wants to, with layers that catch the glow only at the edges."

He lifted one hand and traced a line through the air as if sketching the outline of the garment itself. "It should look like night, but not empty."

"A high collar, maybe... The chest should be protected, of course, with layered crystal plates hidden beneath the surface so it can take a blow without looking like a slab of armor."

He paused, then continued with a small nod. "The shoulders should have some weight to them, just enough to make the shape feel royal."

"And the void... it will keep devouring mana endlessly. As long as it exists, nobody will be able to injure me."

He looked at himself in the mirror again, his expression sharpening. "It should protect me, but it should also say something. It should say that I am not just a fighter. I am the king."

The more he spoke, the clearer the image became, and he began to move again. His crystal magic answered the shape of his imagination as naturally as breath.

Dark cloth gathered first, made from his magic, carrying the density and resilience of crystal. It formed into a deep void-black base that seemed to drink in the light around it, then thinner layers of darker sheen folded over it like overlapping shadows.

He shaped the chest piece with careful hands, not into a rigid breastplate but into a fitted structure that followed the lines of his body while still allowing movement. Beneath it, he wove the defensive lattice of void armor, invisible unless one knew where to look.

It was a network of interlocking crystal threads designed to absorb impact, disperse force, and harden instantly when struck. Around the collar, he formed a raised edge that stood elegantly against his neck, enough to give him the look of someone who had stepped out of darkness with purpose.

The shoulders received subtle crystalline ridges that caught the light only when he turned. Along the sleeves, he added narrow seams of silver-blue energy that could flare into protective barriers if needed, while the cuffs were reinforced with hidden layers that would make his arms nearly impossible to cut through.

He imagined the lower half as well, something that moved with him instead of restricting him. A long coat-like extension that fell behind him in dark, flowing panels, split in a way that allowed speed and agility while still giving him the regal silhouette he wanted.

He added faint star-like flecks into the material so that when the light touched it at the right angle, it would look as though the night sky itself had been woven into the fabric.

"Maybe a subtle crest at the chest? Something that marks the center without making it gaudy."

His fingers moved again, and the crystal magic responded, shaping itself into the beginnings of that very design.