Chapter 137: 137
From the very moment he could form coherent thoughts, Khan had been acutely aware that he did not belong to the ordinary world. It wasn’t a conclusion born from arrogant pride, but rather cold, systematic observation. He had spent his formative years analyzing the distinct, hyper-careful behavior of every individual permitted into his orbit.
He had grown up surrounded by elite nannies and austere, ancient scholars who arrived on strict schedules to drill him in high-society etiquette, statecraft, and foundational combat theory. He absorbed every scrap of data like a dry sponge, and from the subtext of those lessons, he understood the reality: he was almost certainly the scion of a supreme noble house. But if that was the case, why had he never once seen the faces of his mother or father?
When he turned ten, he crossed paths with the most eccentric, chaotic individual he had ever encountered in his short life—and the man didn’t even look particularly old. But his unannounced arrivals became a frequent, jarring routine.
"Hey, brat. I caught wind that you’ve been whining about finding your birth parents," the stranger had boomed, dropping out of thin air with a heavy, dust-kicking thud.
Khan could only blink, nodding mutely. This newcomer was quite literally the tallest, most imposing human specimen he had ever laid eyes on.
"Well, stop looking. You’re staring right at him."
Khan had stared blankly at the towering figure.
My... father? Was he truly not of ordinary noble blood? What kind of high-ranking aristocrat conducted themselves with this absolute lack of decorum? This didn’t align with a single page of the rigid imperial etiquette manuals he had been forced to memorize, nor any historical text he had studied.
"Kid, did those ancient fossils not train you in basic filial piety? Can’t you do the proper thing and greet your old man?"
Khan had tilted his head up to look at the chief scholar he actually trusted. The old educator had merely coughed into his fist, pointedly turning his gaze toward the sky, silently urging the boy to comply with the stranger’s demand.
"Greetings... Father?" Khan had offered, executing a flawless, traditional bow.
"Is that seriously how you greet the Emperor? Tsk, I leave you alone for a single decade and you’re already throwing a tantrum. I haven’t seen my own old man in literally thousands of years, do you see me whining about it?" The man waved his hands dismissively before scratching his chin with an awkward, sudden realization of his own terrible phrasing. "Anyway, you’ve seen my face now. Don’t go around pretending you’re some tragic orphan. You are the Chosen One, after all."
That was the very first instance he had ever heard that specific title: The Chosen One. From that afternoon forward, his entire existence became a brutal, unforgiving crucible designed to forge him into that exact concept.
The sole windows of relief occurred when his father would randomly sneak into the estate, completely bypassing the omnipresent security network of the man Khan later identified as the Grand Chancellor. At fifteen, he was formally apprenticed to his primary martial master—Elio.
At sixteen, his soul finally underwent awakening.
"A whole year later than my personal record," his father had remarked, roughly ruffling his hair during a brief manifestation. "I handed you over to Elio because I assumed you’d trigger the awakening at the exact age I did. I suppose I set the bar a bit too high. Then again, how can anyone honestly expect to match my pace?" That was the final time he had ever seen his father’s face.
Since that departure, Khan had pushed his body through training regimens that made his unawakened days look like a vacation. Slipping away to join the academy had been the first real breath of fresh air in his life. Everyone here was older than him—which was standard—but at least they were significantly closer to his age group than the ancient monsters he was accustomed to. More importantly, they didn’t treat him like a sacred object. Well, right up until he displayed a fraction of his actual output. He tried his absolute best to dial it back, but Elijah simply couldn’t keep pace. Khan ultimately had to manually nerf his own attributes just to force a respectable draw; his pride simply wouldn’t allow him to intentionally lose to such a loudmouth.
He had genuinely come to cherish his mundane days as an ordinary student. For brief moments, he had completely forgotten the weight of his predetermined destiny.
But today, reality had violently shattered the illusion.
The exact millisecond the initial tremors shook the academy, Khan had felt an internal shift: a heavy, ancient shackle within his soul snapped clean open, unleashing an ocean of raw, terrifying power he had never known existed. Checking his system status window, the truth stared back at him—the ’War Phase’ had officially engaged. The passive, hidden benefits reserved exclusively for the Chosen One had been forcefully unlocked.
It was a segment of his status window—and his life—that fundamentally terrified him. The moment his peers discovered his identity as the Chosen One, every genuine relationship he had built would instantly evaporate. And it was completely unavoidable. Throughout recorded history, Chosen Ones were treated as living, divine relics—touted as flawless gods walking the earth.
The absolute alpha and omega.
When that golden-eyed entity had first manifested in the clouds, Khan had chosen to blend into the crowd, dropping to one knee along with the masses. He knew with absolute certainty that he lacked the capability to defeat an apex threat of that caliber, and there was zero tactical advantage in exposing his newly unlocked scaling early. It would only accelerate the reveal of his identity—something he desperately wanted to delay.
Yet, staring at the man currently facing him, he didn’t sense that same overwhelming, crushing distance. Not from his class. Not from the inner circle who casually bickered with the professor.
This man knew exactly what he was. An ordinary, supposedly unranked SS-level professor in an institution where even high-tier saints remained completely oblivious to Khan’s true lineage. It was already highly irregular that this man had been granted an entirely independent, unrestricted class, but the sheer casualness with which he had dropped the title implied an intimate knowledge of Khan’s arrangement with Elio. The wider world assumed Elio had simply taken a talented commoner under his wing out of personal whim.
But the subtext of this professor’s words meant he knew the War Phase metrics had actively engaged. He was explicitly telling Khan to go seek shelter with his designated guardian.
Khan needed to decipher exactly what made this specific man such an anomaly.
"So? What’s the verdict, Chosen One?" Zeke asked, keeping his tone perfectly level as he observed the kid.
Did that massive stat injection give him a sudden burst of confidence? Even if it did, why the hell is he trying to flex on me? Does he think he can intimidate me? If he tries anything crazy, I’m literally going to use a movement skill and sprint away. And yes, obviously I’ll run. Who in their right mind tries to square up against a fully unlocked protagonist? The kid is mechanically untouchable to anyone below his tier. There is absolutely zero shame in tactical retreat.
"How exactly do you know that title?" Khan demanded, his eyes narrowing.
"Know what? Look, kid, I don’t have time to play twenty questions with you. I happen to know a vast catalogue of things; it’s practically in the job description of being a professor," Zeke deadpanned perfectly. Act natural. Maintain the aura of an enigmatic mentor. Even a primordial dragon has to show a bit of respect to the local tiger on its own turf.
"As a recognized citizen of this sovereign territory, you are legally obligated to provide direct answers when interrogated by the Imperial Prince," Khan stated, his voice taking on a heavy, regal authority.
"Hah. You’re the Imperial Prince? Right, and I’m the designated homeroom teacher for a literal class of weirdos."
To Khan’s ears, it sounded like the man was openly scoffing at his claim. But if one closely analyzed the structure of his sentences, each individual statement made perfect sense on its own, yet when stitched together, they formed a masterpiece of absolute nonsense.
Khan let out a slow breath, pinching the bridge of his nose in sheer frustration.
"You aren’t going to squeeze a single drop of information out of me, kid. I have an entire continent of invading monsters to cull, so stop blocking my path," Zeke said smoothly. He stepped past the boy, casually patting Khan’s shoulder before flashing a deliberate, mocking smirk. "Oh, mighty Imperial Prince, you really shouldn’t go around abusing your royal title to bully humble educators. It’s hardly my fault my own father didn’t happen to sit on the imperial throne."
He didn’t bother looking back as he kicked off into a light sprint. "Damn that Elio. For an apex combatant, he sure did a terrible job teaching his ward basic moral values." With a sharp pop, his figure flickered out of existence.
Khan remained frozen in place, staring blankly at the empty space where the professor had been standing a microsecond prior.
