The Calm Before the Obsidian King’s Return

Morning sun almost come on head.

Warm golden light filtered through the branches of the open park garden, falling across scattered leaves and cracked stone paths. Birds chirped lazily above, completely unaware of the miserable state of the man sprawled across the wooden bench beneath them.

Lucas.

The poor soul still didn’t know his backdoor had already been violated by those two thieves who knew who many times during the night.

The morning breeze carried the smell of grass and damp soil.

Peaceful.

Quiet.

Cruel.

As consciousness slowly returned, Lucas frowned deeply. His head throbbed violently, as though someone had smashed iron rods through his skull repeatedly while he slept.

His eyelids twitched.

Then slowly opened.

For several seconds, his vision remained blurry.

The sunlight above him seemed painfully bright.

He had no idea how long he was out.

When Lucas woke up, he felt parched and dizzy beyond reason, his whole body feeling completely out of sorts.

Every muscle ached.

His nervous system felt heavy and sluggish.

Even breathing carried a faint stabbing pain through his ribs.

"...Damn..." he muttered hoarsely.

Instinctively, he reached toward his pocket for his phone.

Empty.

His hand froze.

Then immediately searched his other pocket.

Nothing.

Another pocket.

Still nothing.

His expression changed instantly.

"Damn it, where’s my phone and wallet?!"

Lucas’s face turned pale with anger.

His voice echoed sharply through the quiet garden, startling a few birds from nearby trees.

Someone stole from him?

While he was unconscious?

The mighty future Obsidian Kings successor...

Robbed like some drunken beggar sleeping in a park?

Humiliation burned inside his chest.

His breathing quickened.

For a brief moment, killing intent surged from him violently enough to stir the fallen leaves near the bench.

Panicking slightly, he quickly checked his chest.

The moment his fingers touched the familiar object beneath his clothes—

He relaxed.

Thankfully, his Black dragon gem pendant was still there. For some reason, it hadn’t been taken.

That alone made him breathe easier.

If that treasure had been stolen too...

He truly would have gone insane.

The pendant carried secrets tied directly to the Obsidian Wing.

Not something ordinary thieves could understand.

Lucas leaned back slightly and carefully checked his internal condition.

His brows gradually relaxed.

The poison inside his body had also been suppressed, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

Although his injuries were still severe—

His situation had stabilized.

However...

Soon, surprise appeared in his blue eyes.

"Hm?"

He immediately circulated his energy again.

This time more carefully.

Then realization struck.

The bottleneck at the peak of the Silver Realm had loosened slightly.

A point inside his nervous system that had remained blocked no matter how much he cultivated...

Had actually softened.

Lucas’s pupils contracted.

For months, he had tried repeatedly to break through toward the Gold Realm.

Failed every time.

Yet now—

After nearly dying—

The blockage moved?

His expression slowly transformed.

Then—

He burst into laughter.

"A blessing in disguise, huh? Julian D’Aurelius, you just wait for your doom."

His laughter sounded wild beneath the morning sky.

Who cared if he lost the Nine way cleansing exilir?

The Gold Realm was now finally within reach.

Once he broke through—

Everything would change.

Julian?

Dead.

Yana Tyson?

She would regret betraying him.

The Tyson Family?

Still destined to kneel beneath his feet.

Thinking about that future, Lucas slowly stood up from the bench.

His body swayed slightly.

The moment he straightened fully—

A sharp pain suddenly shot upward from his backside.

His face twitched.

"...Tch."

He frowned but didn’t think too deeply about it.

He assumed it was simply residual damage from the previous battle and the truck escape.

After all, Julian had attacked viciously.

Especially those shameless kicks.

That bastard seemed obsessed with targeting lower areas.

Lucas cursed inwardly.

With a wicked smile slowly returning to his face, he prepared to leave the park and find a safe place to recuperate properly.

This humiliation—

This pain—

He would repay it all a hundredfold.

"...Next time we meet," he muttered coldly, "I’ll tear your limbs apart myself."

The sunlight reflected in his blue eyes as killing intent flickered there once again.

...

Jones Family’s private hospital.

The atmosphere here was completely different.

Clean white walls.

Quiet hallways.

The faint smell of medicine drifting through the air.

Outside the recovery ward, several nurses passed by quietly while security personnel remained stationed discreetly nearby.

Inside one of the hospital’s private sections—

Evan stood beneath the morning sun in a small garden behind the building.

A breeze brushed through the flowers nearby.

Calm.

Still.

After a long period of recovery, Evan’s injuries had finally healed completely.

A few days ago, even farting had been excruciatingly painful.

It felt like there was a firecracker lodged inside his backside, ready to explode at any second.

Just remembering it made his expression darken slightly.

That humiliation...

That pain...

He would never forget it.

During this recovery period, he had trained obsessively every single day.

No distractions.

No women.

No entertainment.

Only cultivation.

Only revenge.

His black hair swayed lightly as he stood silently beneath the morning light, his sharp black eyes calm but carrying hidden danger underneath.

Until today.

He had finally made a significant breakthrough.

Successfully reaching the peak of the Silver Realm.

The energy flowing through his nervous system now felt smoother and heavier than before.

Powerful.

Dense.

A true transformation.

Defeat was merely nourishment for growth.

At least—

That was what he kept telling himself.

His fists slowly tightened behind his back.

Julian D’Aurelius.

That name had become a thorn lodged deep inside his mind.

Every humiliation.

Every setback.

Every injury.

All connected to him.

But now things were different.

Very different.

Evan slowly exhaled.

The air around him trembled faintly from the pressure leaking from his body.

"At the end," he muttered calmly, "the one standing highest... will still be me."

His voice carried absolute confidence.

Not arrogance.

Conviction.

Just then—

Two figures rapidly approached from behind along the garden pathway.

Their footsteps were disciplined.

Steady.

Clearly trained.

They stopped about three meters away before bowing respectfully.

Their expressions carried seriousness rarely seen before.

Then they called out together in unison.

"Obsidian King."