Lian's mind churned with thoughts as the mysterious screen hovered briefly before him, offering him the choice to begin the system's journey. He couldn't help but think back to the first time he encountered it.

Back then, he believed that it was a divine blessing from one of the many gods worshipped across the Valeryn continent. It wasn't far-fetched—there were numerous deities, even in Ardenthall, that he could never hope to know all of them. So, when the screen first appeared, it made sense to believe that one of these gods had granted him some form of divine ability.

But then came the words of the old man—the Heaven's Devourer. His ancient voice had crushed Lian's excitement like cold water on a fire, reminding him that no god would ever grant him their power. The screen, the old man claimed, was nothing but his own doing. At the time, Lian felt a deep disappointment and had given up on the screen, not knowing what to make of it.

How could something that looked so strange, yet extraordinary, something that only he could see, be the doing of the massive eyeball? That old man… And now, to see the screen again with the same options—Accept or Decline—his curiosity piqued once more.

A flash of anticipation rushed through him as he stared at the shimmering words. Part of him wanted to press Accept right then and there, eager to see what might happen. But he hesitated, suppressing the urge.

He couldn't blindly make a decision without understanding what this "system" truly was. It was connected to the Heaven's Devourer somehow, and acting rashly could bring unintended consequences. With a deliberate effort, Lian tore his gaze away from the screen, and it disappeared as though it had never been there.

He sighed, his body sinking back into the bed as he tried to calm his thoughts. It wasn't long before two attendants entered the room, one middle-aged and the other younger. Both were surprised to see him awake, as he had been in a coma for over a week. They rushed over to check his vitals, using some kind of magically enhanced device that hummed softly as it pressed against his chest. The older attendant recorded the results on a slip, her face lighting up with relief.

"How are you feeling?" the younger woman asked, her eyes soft with concern.

"A little sore, but… I think I'm alright," Lian replied, his voice raspy from days of disuse.

After their assessments, the middle-aged attendant pulled out a round wooden communication device and sent out a message, presumably to inform others of his recovery. It didn't take long for Lady Mariana and Elysia to arrive at the infirmary, both clearly relieved and excited to see him awake.

Elysia couldn't hold back her emotions, almost throwing herself into his arms, but stopped short when she remembered his bandaged state. Instead, she hovered by his side, her face flushed with joy as she smiled down at him. "Lian! You're finally awake!" she exclaimed, trying to keep her voice steady.

Lian smiled weakly, trying not to let the pain show on his face. "Yeah… I'm back."

Lady Mariana stood at the foot of his bed, her eyes softened with relief. She was composed but couldn't hide her own joy at seeing him conscious after such a long time. "You've been through a lot," she said softly, "but you're strong. I'm glad you're okay."

The two of them stayed with him for a while, chatting and catching him up on what had happened while he was unconscious. Elysia, in particular, seemed unable to stop talking. She fed him fruit, laughing and smiling, clearly overjoyed that her childhood friend was recovering. Lian found himself relaxing as the conversation went on, the earlier tension in his chest easing bit by bit.

Despite everything weighing on his mind—Alaric's humiliation, the strange dream, and the looming mystery of old man, Heaven's Devourer—Lian couldn't help but feel a sense of peace. For now, he would let himself enjoy this moment of calm. There were too many questions to answer, too many uncertainties, but with Elysia's laughter and Lady Mariana's gentle presence, he felt reassured, if only for a little while.

After Elysia and Lady Mariana left, Lian lay back on the bed, replaying their conversation in his mind. He had asked about Alaric, and Elysia informed him that the young lord had departed along with the Duchess a few days after the incident, returning to the grand Duchy in Ardenthall.

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As much as Lian didn't want to dwell on thoughts of Alaric, he couldn't help but feel the sharp sting of humiliation that came with remembering his cold grin and those piercing eyes. It was as though those eyes were engraved in his mind, mocking him even now. The desire for revenge simmered in his chest—he would never forget this, and he would not forgive.

The thought of gorging out Alaric's eyes, of wiping that smug grin off his face, fueled Lian's anger. But he knew that such thoughts, though satisfying, were useless without the power to back them up. Right now, Alaric was untouchable. A lord, blessed with aura, divine power and a fierce army of elite warriors at his side. Lian was a shadow in comparison, but the desire for retribution never left him. One day, if fate permitted, he would find a way to repay Alaric tenfold.

When Elysia and Lady Mariana had finally said their goodbyes, it was clear Elysia was reluctant to leave. Her concern for him was evident in the way she glanced back at him before walking out of the infirmary. "I'll come back soon, Lian," she had promised. "Please, just rest and recover." Her eyes had held a trace of gloom, a hint of something deeper she wasn't saying. But despite that, she left, and the room once again became quiet.

Lian sighed deeply, feeling the emptiness settle around him. Now that the adrenaline and the excitement of seeing familiar faces had worn off, the full weight of his injuries pressed down on him. Waves of pain pulsed through his body, and he winced as he shifted in the bed, trying to find a more comfortable position.

As his body began to give in to the exhaustion, Lian's thoughts slowed. He allowed himself to relax, the pain dulling as his mind drifted. This time, when sleep overtook him, it was peaceful—no strange dream space, no Heaven's Devourer, and no mysterious screen offering cryptic choices. For once, he dreamt like a normal human, his mind free from the strangeness that had plagued him for so long.

In this sleep, he dreamt of simple things. A time before all the chaos. A time when he and Elysia would run through the fields near the big mansion, laughing without a care in the world. He dreamed of warmth, of family, and strangely enough, his parents.

And though the pain was still there, for the first time in a long while, he found a moment of peace.

Lian's dream had been beautiful and bittersweet, a fleeting glimpse of the life he had always longed for. Walking hand in hand with his parents through the streets of Elandor, his mother's ethereal beauty shining like a beacon of warmth, while his father's face remained an enigma.

The blurry image of his father had always haunted him, even in his waking moments. Lady Mariana had never spoken much about his father, and even when she tried, it seemed like she didn't know the man well either. Lian's mother, Elara, had been a close friend and handmaiden to Lady Mariana, but the details of Lian's father's life remained vague, shrouded in uncertainty and mystery.

His father had disappeared on a journey before he was born, and though there had been no proof of his death, the fact that he never returned made people assume he had died.

Waking up from that sweet dream left Lian feeling hollow. His heart ached with the realization that the life he wanted, a life with his parents, was lost to him forever. He sighed heavily, feeling the weight of loneliness settle back in. He adjusted himself in the bed, noticing the green medicinal liquid covering his body, a sign that the attendants had applied it while he slept. The pain in his body had dulled significantly, but the pain in his heart lingered.

As his thoughts drifted, he couldn't help but return to the strange projection, the system that had appeared before him earlier. The idea that it could be some divine gift was enticing, but the words of the old man, Heaven's Devourer, echoed in his mind.

'But how?'

Lian didn't understand what the system was or what purpose it served, and though he felt a rush of curiosity when it appeared, he was cautious. Nothing in this world came without a cost, and he wasn't naive enough to believe that this system—whatever it was—would be any different.

Even the gods who granted power to mortals always demanded something in return. There were conditions, obligations, and responsibilities that came with such gifts. If those conditions weren't met, the power could easily be stripped away, leaving the person worse off than before. Lian suspected the same might be true for this strange system, that's assuming it would even be beneficial.

There had to be a catch, something he wasn't seeing yet. He didn't want to rush into accepting it blindly, not when he had no idea what it truly was or what it could do.

As he mulled over these thoughts, the projection suddenly appeared again before his eyes, the options to "Accept" or "Decline" flashing before him once more. His heart skipped a beat at the sight, but he resisted the urge to make a hasty decision.

He needed answers, but how was he going to get them? The old man had been his only source of information about the strange projection, and yet now, when Lian needed him most, he couldn't return to the dream space to seek answers. It was as if the door to that realm had been shut.

Lian would have clenched his fists in frustration if not for his injuries. He couldn't simply accept the system without knowing what it would cost him. But how could he learn more? Without access to the old man or any clear way to investigate the system on his own, he was stuck in a state of uncertainty. He needed time—time to heal, time to think, and time to figure out how to approach this strange new development in his life.

As Lian's mind swirled with uncertainty, the familiar yet distant voice of the Heaven's Devourer, reverberated through his thoughts causing his expression to lit up. It was a deep, exasperated sigh, the kind that spoke of ages of weariness.

"You brat," the voice boomed within his mind, "I haven't seen a more cautious, risk-averse person like you in all my eons of existence. Just click the damn accept button and start this journey already! Stop being your pathetic self."

Lian felt a shiver run down his spine, his body stiffening. The old man's tone was forceful, filled with irritation. Yet there was something in his words, an odd sense of care behind the frustration, as though Heaven's Devourer was genuinely disappointed in Lian's hesitation.

"How many times have I told you? I am not some petty god, some minor deity who requires your worship or service to maintain my existence. I am far above those things, you fool. You always doubt my words. How many times do I have to remind you?"

The sigh that followed was so heavy it almost felt tangible, as though it carried the weight of countless years of disappointment. Heaven's Devourer seemed to truly lament that his words hadn't penetrated Lian's thick walls of doubt. Lian could feel the frustration from the ancient being, almost like a father scolding a stubborn child for not listening.