The battlefield smoked beneath Adam's boots. Ash floated like snow through the air, thick and bitter. The sky above was cracked with lightning—not natural lightning, but jagged white veins in the very fabric of the world. The remnants of his last attack burned in the distance, a reminder of what he'd just done.
Four Sovereigns had fled.
Verius, wounded and shaken, vanished into the black mist with them, leaving only destruction in their wake. Adam stood alone, his body trembling from exhaustion, but still upright. His shirt was scorched away, his ribs bruised, skin laced with cuts and dried blood. But in his chest, his heart beat steadily.
Not just from life.
From power.
The Third Gate had opened.
And now, everything had changed.
"They ran," Adam whispered. "Sovereigns ran."
He didn't know whether to laugh or fall to his knees. Instead, he turned to what was left of the city below. Rubble and silence. No applause. No survivors. Just shadows.
He collapsed to one knee, breath catching.
Infinite mana… and still, I feel this broken.
His hands glowed faintly. Mana flickered around his skin, like soft flame, crackling with a pulse of its own. He closed his eyes.
And something answered.
A presence.
Not malevolent. Not divine. But ancient and patient.
You reached the third gate faster than I expected, it said. The voice echoed in his head like it was part of him.
Adam gritted his teeth. "Who are you?"
The one who left the door unlocked.
He felt a vision slam into his head—an ancient circle, a child made of light, a war between entities that shaped the fabric of mana. And a boy. Alone. Gifted. Cursed.
You were made, Adam. Your infinite mana is not a gift. It is a key.
He stood shakily, fury in his veins. "I don't want to be anyone's key. Or weapon. Or god."
The voice chuckled. Then stop unlocking doors.
The presence vanished.
Adam exhaled sharply and opened his eyes.
The air had gone still.
Suddenly, he sensed it—a flicker of movement. He turned quickly. A figure darted between broken buildings, cloaked and light-footed. Not a Sovereign. Not a soldier.
A survivor?
Adam gave chase.
His boots crunched through rubble, body still burning with residual mana. As he ran, a memory clawed at him: Belle, smiling. Belle, screaming. Belle, taken through the gate.
I'm coming for you, he thought.
He rounded a corner—and the figure stopped. A young boy, no older than ten, wearing a broken school uniform and holding a shattered radio.
His eyes widened at Adam. "You… you're the light-bringer, right?"
Adam paused. "Who told you that?"
The boy looked around. "They all said you'd come. The man with the golden eye said you'd fight the gods."
Adam's breath caught. "The golden eye?"
He nodded. "He left something. Said to give it to you if you survived."
The boy pulled out a small crystal, no bigger than a marble, and handed it to him.
Adam held it—and memories surged.
Images of Belle. Of Sovereigns. Of a lab—underground. A prison.
And coordinates.
They have her.
His knuckles clenched around the crystal. "Thank you."
The boy looked up at him, eyes wide. "Will you stop them? The Sovereigns?"
Adam looked down at his hands. Infinite mana pulsed like a heartbeat.
"I'll do more than stop them," he said, voice cold and clear. "I'll end their rule."
He turned.
And took flight.
---
Across the continent, deep beneath the ruins of an ancient citadel, the Sovereigns regrouped.
Chains rattled. The veiled woman screamed into the void, her pride shattered. The molten Sovereign sat in silence, his molten form flickering weakly. Verius stood before them, broken helm under one arm, eyes full of venom.
"He should not have this power," the chained one hissed.
"He has it anyway," Verius said. "And it's only begun to awaken."
The horned Sovereign slammed his fist into the wall, cracking it. "Then we kill him now. Before he reaches the fourth."
Verius shook his head. "You don't understand. That was not just power. That was purpose. He knows now. And soon, others will follow."
The veiled woman whispered, "Then we call the Master."
They fell silent.
Verius closed his eyes. "If we wake Him, there is no turning back."
"But if we don't," she hissed, "there is no Sovereignty left to rule."
They nodded.
And far below the chamber, a new Gate began to stir.
---
Adam landed near the edge of the wildlands, where mana storms danced like spirits. The map encoded in the crystal had led him here—to a ruin buried in a cliff face. Cracked runes glowed faintly at the entrance.
This is where they're keeping her, he thought. Belle.
He stepped forward.
But before he could reach the entrance, a shimmer passed through the air.
And someone stepped out.
She wore no armor. No cloak. Just a simple black robe. Her hair was white, eyes golden, and she bore no weapon.
Yet the air bent around her.
"I wondered when you'd arrive," she said. "Infinity's Heir."
Adam raised his fists. "If you're here to stop me—"
She held up a hand. "I'm not here to stop you. I'm here to test you."
Mana swirled around her.
And from the earth, stone guardians rose—massive, glowing with ancient runes.
Adam narrowed his eyes. "More trials?"
She smiled sadly. "No. One truth. One fight. If you want her back, show me you're worthy of what you carry."
Adam stood tall, light building behind him. The Third Gate still flickered, barely stable.
But his spirit had never been clearer.
He raised his hand.
"I don't need to prove myself to you. Not for power. Not for thrones. Not for glory."
The mana behind him exploded into wings.
"I fight because someone I love is suffering. And because no one else can."
He stepped forward, energy gathering in his fists.
"So bring your gods. Bring your guardians. Bring your whole damn Gate."
He smiled.
"I'll break them all."