In their eyes, Aron was no longer human.

He was a god.

Aron raised one hand, then let it fall.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The floating Zulcans plummeted.

[Zulcan (Foundation Establishment) killed, +1000 EXP]

[Zulcan (Foundation Establishment) killed, +1000 EXP]

[Zulcan (Foundation Establishment) killed, +1000 EXP]

...

..

.

The sound of notifications echoed endlessly in his mind.

And as this scene transpired, an owl perched on a nearby tree watched everything silently.

Far away, in a dark chamber, countless square light screens illuminated the stone walls.

The flickering glow revealed several people seated before them, monitoring each projection intently.

On one particular screen, Aron stood upon a water board high in the sky.

His hand slowly fell, and the Zulcans below dropped like flies, their heads impaled by the weapons arranged on the ground. Instant death.

The observers exchanged looks of disbelief.

Reverence and fear mingled in their eyes as they watched with bated breath.

"Is this the rumored Power of Law...?" someone muttered in awe.

One among them took out a glowing stone of sort, pressing it as it flared with light.

His expression turned serious as he rose to his feet and left the room.

Before long, he stood before a massive golden door guarded by two armored men.

Their black armor bore the emblem of a shooting star, and their staffs crossed in front of the door, barring entry.

"I request an audience with His Highness Ivan," the man said, bowing slightly.

"It's a matter of urgency."

--

Inside a vast hall, several nobles sat on both sides of a long table.

Above them, on a raised platform, a man clad in golden armor sat calmly, a faint pressure radiating from his presence.

The same shooting star insignia shone proudly on his chestplate.

"Your Highness," one adviser said, bowing, "the witches still refuse to concede.

They insist on maintaining neutrality."

Another spoke up anxiously. "And your brother continues to expand his territory, backed by vampires and Asuras. If we don't act soon, the consequences could be dire."

Prince Ivan swirled the wine in his cup, one leg crossed as he listened in silence.

"And the princess is...?"

Before he could finish, Ivan raised his hand to silence them.

"From now on, you don't need to worry about her," he said calmly.

"The Zulcans have agreed to deal with her. They'll take her out of the race."

"Zulcans...?"

"The Zulcans?!"

"The Zulcans!"

The hall buzzed with murmurs.

"Your Highness... the Zulcans are our enemies! We..."

"Are you questioning my authority?" Ivan's cold voice cut through the air like a blade.

His aura flared, forcing silence upon the hall as his eyes swept across everyone.

"From now on, the Zul..."

"Your Highness!"

Ivan's gaze snapped toward the voice, sharp as ice. "You'd better have a very good reason for interrupting me."

"Sir Zalwin from the Intelligence Department requests an audience," the guard reported nervously.

"He says it's urgent."

"Let him in," Ivan said after a brief pause.

Moments later, Zalwin entered the hall and bowed deeply. "My liege."

Ivan leaned back, resting his chin on one hand. "So, what's so important that it couldn't wait?"

"If I may, Your Highness," Zalwin said respectfully.

At Ivan's nod, he placed a glowing mana crystal at the center of the room.

A light flared, and an image appeared in midair.

Aron stood there, hands behind his back, poised atop rippling water.

Thousands of Zulcans writhed in the air, screaming in agony as weapons floated around them, aligning themselves in deadly formation.

Then, like a god commanding judgment, Aron lowered his hand.

Ivan's relaxed expression disappeared instantly.

His cup slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor as he stood up, eyes wide.

"The Power of Law... it's real," he whispered.

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Even the most composed advisers stared in disbelief.

Zalwin continued, his tone measured. "After some investigation, we discovered that the man is the same human the princess saved. However, reports from our spies two months ago stated that he wasn't even a cultivator. At best, he had a slightly strengthened physique at the Flesh Tempering realm. His soul was heavily damaged, and he was expected to remain unconscious for five to ten years. Yet, he awakened in mere months, almost fully healed. The princess' favor toward him increased significantly afterward."

He paused before continuing, "It's believed that she sees him as a key figure among humans, perhaps someone who could help her secure their support."

"Tch." Ivan snorted, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Who would've thought Zina would get this desperate? To think she'd rely on that pathetic race to become Empress... What a joke."

A few chuckles spread among the nobles, but Ivan's smirk soon faded.

His gaze lingered on the paused image of Aron, whose calm eyes seemed to stare back at him through the projection.

"If I can uncover how he mastered the Power of Law," Ivan said quietly, "the throne will be mine. But I'm not foolish enough to think I'm the only one aware of what this means. I can't allow that human to fall into any of my siblings' hands."

Ivan raised his hand.

"Your Highness..."

In an instant, twelve figures materialized from thin air, kneeling before him.

"Bring that human to me," Ivan ordered coldly. "If capture isn't possible, kill him. I will not tolerate mistakes."

"As you command," the twelve answered in unison before vanishing.

Silence filled the hall once more.

One adviser hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Your Highness, do you think it's wise to send twelve Golden-Rank powerhouses after a mere human who hasn't even begun the path of cultivating?"

Ivan leaned back again, swirling his drink as his eyes grew distant.

....

..

.

Author note:

If you've read this far, then it's clear you're loving the journey just as much as I enjoy writing it.

But here's the truth: stories don't grow on their own. They grow because of you, the readers who stand beside them. And on Webnovel, your Powerstones, Golden ticket and engagement are the heartbeat that keeps a novel alive. Each support you cast isn't just a number on a chart. It's a signal that you want more, that you believe Aron's story deserves to climb higher, to reach more people, to carve its name into the rankings where it belongs.

Your encouragement decides the pace of this journey. Together, we can push this story through the chaos, step by step, one stone, one ticket, one chapter at a time.

So thank you, for every stone, every ticket, every moment you've given this story. You are the reason Aron's world lives and grows.

Let's walk through the apocalypse together.

In their eyes, Aron was no longer human.

He was a god.

Aron raised one hand, then let it fall.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

The floating Zulcans plummeted.

[Zulcan (Foundation Establishment) killed, +1000 EXP]

[Zulcan (Foundation Establishment) killed, +1000 EXP]

[Zulcan (Foundation Establishment) killed, +1000 EXP]

...

..

.

The sound of notifications echoed endlessly in his mind.

And as this scene transpired, an owl perched on a nearby tree watched everything silently.

Far away, in a dark chamber, countless square light screens illuminated the stone walls.

The flickering glow revealed several people seated before them, monitoring each projection intently.

On one particular screen, Aron stood upon a water board high in the sky.

His hand slowly fell, and the Zulcans below dropped like flies, their heads impaled by the weapons arranged on the ground. Instant death.

The observers exchanged looks of disbelief.

Reverence and fear mingled in their eyes as they watched with bated breath.

"Is this the rumored Power of Law...?" someone muttered in awe.

One among them took out a glowing stone of sort, pressing it as it flared with light.

His expression turned serious as he rose to his feet and left the room.

Before long, he stood before a massive golden door guarded by two armored men.

Their black armor bore the emblem of a shooting star, and their staffs crossed in front of the door, barring entry.

"I request an audience with His Highness Ivan," the man said, bowing slightly.

"It's a matter of urgency."

--

Inside a vast hall, several nobles sat on both sides of a long table.

Above them, on a raised platform, a man clad in golden armor sat calmly, a faint pressure radiating from his presence.

The same shooting star insignia shone proudly on his chestplate.

"Your Highness," one adviser said, bowing, "the witches still refuse to concede.

They insist on maintaining neutrality."

Another spoke up anxiously. "And your brother continues to expand his territory, backed by vampires and Asuras. If we don't act soon, the consequences could be dire."

Prince Ivan swirled the wine in his cup, one leg crossed as he listened in silence.

"And the princess is...?"

Before he could finish, Ivan raised his hand to silence them.

"From now on, you don't need to worry about her," he said calmly.

"The Zulcans have agreed to deal with her. They'll take her out of the race."

"Zulcans...?"

"The Zulcans?!"

"The Zulcans!"

The hall buzzed with murmurs.

"Your Highness... the Zulcans are our enemies! We..."

"Are you questioning my authority?" Ivan's cold voice cut through the air like a blade.

His aura flared, forcing silence upon the hall as his eyes swept across everyone.

"From now on, the Zul..."

"Your Highness!"

Ivan's gaze snapped toward the voice, sharp as ice. "You'd better have a very good reason for interrupting me."

"Sir Zalwin from the Intelligence Department requests an audience," the guard reported nervously.

"He says it's urgent."

"Let him in," Ivan said after a brief pause.

Moments later, Zalwin entered the hall and bowed deeply. "My liege."

Ivan leaned back, resting his chin on one hand. "So, what's so important that it couldn't wait?"

"If I may, Your Highness," Zalwin said respectfully.

At Ivan's nod, he placed a glowing mana crystal at the center of the room.

A light flared, and an image appeared in midair.

Aron stood there, hands behind his back, poised atop rippling water.

Thousands of Zulcans writhed in the air, screaming in agony as weapons floated around them, aligning themselves in deadly formation.

Then, like a god commanding judgment, Aron lowered his hand.

Ivan's relaxed expression disappeared instantly.

His cup slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor as he stood up, eyes wide.

"The Power of Law... it's real," he whispered.

Gasps echoed through the hall.

Even the most composed advisers stared in disbelief.

Zalwin continued, his tone measured. "After some investigation, we discovered that the man is the same human the princess saved. However, reports from our spies two months ago stated that he wasn't even a cultivator. At best, he had a slightly strengthened physique at the Flesh Tempering realm. His soul was heavily damaged, and he was expected to remain unconscious for five to ten years. Yet, he awakened in mere months, almost fully healed. The princess' favor toward him increased significantly afterward."

He paused before continuing, "It's believed that she sees him as a key figure among humans, perhaps someone who could help her secure their support."

"Tch." Ivan snorted, his lips curling into a smirk.

"Who would've thought Zina would get this desperate? To think she'd rely on that pathetic race to become Empress... What a joke."

A few chuckles spread among the nobles, but Ivan's smirk soon faded.

His gaze lingered on the paused image of Aron, whose calm eyes seemed to stare back at him through the projection.

"If I can uncover how he mastered the Power of Law," Ivan said quietly, "the throne will be mine. But I'm not foolish enough to think I'm the only one aware of what this means. I can't allow that human to fall into any of my siblings' hands."

Ivan raised his hand.

"Your Highness..."

In an instant, twelve figures materialized from thin air, kneeling before him.

"Bring that human to me," Ivan ordered coldly. "If capture isn't possible, kill him. I will not tolerate mistakes."

"As you command," the twelve answered in unison before vanishing.

Silence filled the hall once more.

One adviser hesitated, then spoke carefully. "Your Highness, do you think it's wise to send twelve Golden-Rank powerhouses after a mere human who hasn't even begun the path of cultivating?"

Ivan leaned back again, swirling his drink as his eyes grew distant.

....

..

.

Author note:

If you've read this far, then it's clear you're loving the journey just as much as I enjoy writing it.

But here's the truth: stories don't grow on their own. They grow because of you, the readers who stand beside them. And on Webnovel, your Powerstones, Golden ticket and engagement are the heartbeat that keeps a novel alive. Each support you cast isn't just a number on a chart. It's a signal that you want more, that you believe Aron's story deserves to climb higher, to reach more people, to carve its name into the rankings where it belongs.

Your encouragement decides the pace of this journey. Together, we can push this story through the chaos, step by step, one stone, one ticket, one chapter at a time.

So thank you, for every stone, every ticket, every moment you've given this story. You are the reason Aron's world lives and grows.

Let's walk through the apocalypse together.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.