Creation Of All Things-Chapter 69: The Almighty

A knock echoed through the quiet library.

Aria barely looked up from her book.

The soft glow of enchanted lamps cast long shadows across the towering bookshelves, the scent of old paper lingering in the air.

A young staff member of Westward Academy stepped forward hesitantly.

"Miss Aria, I have a message from the president," she said, her voice careful. "She asked me to inform you that you and your brother are to return home first thing in the morning. I couldn’t find Mister Alfred, so please pass the message to him."

Aria’s eyes flickered with mild interest before she nodded.

"Alright, you can leave."

She waved her hand dismissively, already diving back into her studies.

The staff member hesitated for a second, as if wanting to say more, but Aria was already lost in the intricate runes and diagrams before her.

With a silent bow, the staffer turned and left.

The door clicked shut.

Aria sighed, rubbing her temples.

Return home?

It wasn’t a request—it was an order.

And if the president was personally sending word, then something big was happening.

Her fingers traced the edge of the ancient tome she was reading.

"...I guess it was about time anyway."

She closed the book with a soft thud and stood up.

Now, she just had to find Alfred.

The rhythmic clash of swords echoed across the Westward Academy Training Grounds.

Under the glow of enchanted lanterns, a group of older students circled a single figure—Alfred.

Barefoot on the stone floor, dressed in a simple training gi, the eight-year-old boy grinned as he wiped a streak of sweat from his cheek. His eyes gleamed with excitement.

"You guys done already?" he teased, cracking his knuckles.

The students around him—all at least four or five years older—exchanged uneasy glances. Their weapons trembled slightly in their hands.

Alfred had already taken down three of them.

The last two hesitated.

"Don’t hold back," Alfred said, rolling his shoulders. "Come on—I’m just getting warmed up."

A tall boy, probably thirteen, clenched his jaw and lunged. His wooden sword cut through the air with precision—aimed straight for Alfred’s ribs.

Too slow.

Alfred twisted at the last second, sidestepping effortlessly before grabbing the older boy’s wrist.

THUD!

In one smooth motion, he flipped the boy over his shoulder, sending him crashing onto the stone floor.

The last opponent took a shaky step back.

Alfred smirked.

But before he could make a move—

"Alfred."

A calm, familiar voice cut through the air.

The older students immediately bowed and stepped aside.

Alfred turned.

Aria.

She stood at the edge of the training ground, arms crossed, watching him with that unreadable expression of hers.

"Come on," she said. "We’re going home in the morning."

Alfred blinked, then wiped his hands on his gi.

"Huh. Guess that means I should wrap this up, huh?"

Aria sighed, already turning away.

Alfred grinned.

Then, in an instant, he disappeared.

A blur of movement.

The last student barely had time to react before—

BAM!

Alfred’s fist stopped just inches from his face.

The boy froze, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

Alfred chuckled and lowered his hand. "Yeah, I’m done."

He turned to leave, hands behind his head.

"See ya next time."

And with that, he jogged after Aria—leaving the older students standing there, stunned.

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Elsewhere

Wraith leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"So, you’re telling me that Adam—some random kid—was the one who took down the Monarch?"

His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

Across from him, Grace stood with a composed expression, though a hint of uncertainty lingered in her sharp, ice-blue eyes.

Her long silver hair cascaded down her back, shimmering under the dim lights of the room. A sleek black combat suit hugged her slender frame, reinforced with light armor at the shoulders and wrists. She was tall, lean, and deadly, the kind of presence that made even the strongest warriors hesitate.

"He was the only one seen going into the doorway when Thomas activated the portal," Grace explained, her voice steady. "And he was the only one who came out—with his parents. The doorway was destroyed right after."

She folded her arms.

"I had my people withdraw immediately the moment the Almighty regained his strength."

Wraith raised an eyebrow.

"The Almighty?"

Grace nodded.

"A title given to Raphael Williams—because of his unmatched power. Even now, no one knows what his true ability is."

Wraith let out a low chuckle.

"That’s a damn good title," he admitted. "The Almighty, huh? Sounds like a guy you don’t wanna piss off."

His fingers drummed against the table, deep in thought.

Then, with a sigh, he sat forward.

"Well, if his kid is walking around with my belongings, then I guess I’ll have to pay him a visit."

His gaze darkened slightly.

"Let’s just hope it stays civil. I’d rather not hurt the kid."

A tense silence hung between them for a moment.

Then Grace spoke.

"And if he refuses to hand it over?"

Wraith exhaled, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Then I’ll have no choice," he murmured.

His tone was casual, but there was an unmistakable finality to it.

The next day

The grand estate loomed before them, bathed in golden light. Towering marble pillars framed the entrance, while an intricate garden stretched across the front, each flower and tree arranged with an almost unnatural precision.

Alfred whistled, his eyes wide with wonder.

"So this is where Grandma lives?" He turned to Aria. "It’s massive!"

Aria nodded, equally impressed despite herself.

"I know, right? Mom always had a habit of making things… flashy."

The twins froze.

That voice.

Their heads snapped toward the source, their eyes widening in shock.

Standing just a few feet away, leaning casually against the entrance, were the two most important people in their lives aside from Adam.

Their parents.

For a moment, neither Alfred nor Aria moved.

Then—tears welled in their eyes.

In an instant, they bolted forward.

"Mom! Dad!"

Their voices cracked with emotion as they threw themselves into their parents’ arms.

Their father caught Alfred in one arm, lifting him effortlessly, while their mother embraced Aria tightly, stroking her hair.

"You two have grown so much," their father murmured, voice thick with emotion.

"Look at you both," their mother whispered. "You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?"

Alfred clung to his father, his usual bravado crumbling. "I thought—we thought—we wouldn’t see you again."

Aria just held onto her mother, her usual cold demeanor breaking as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

Their parents held them tighter.

"We’re here now," their mother said softly. "And we’re not going anywhere."

The warm embrace lasted for what felt like forever, but eventually, their father pulled back slightly, ruffling Alfred’s hair.

"You’ve been behaving, right?" He smirked. "Or should I expect a long list of complaints from the Academy?"

Alfred sniffled, wiping his eyes. "I mean… define behaving."

Their mother sighed. "Still the same troublemaker."