Greed stood before the throne, his hands hovering just above its gleaming armrests. His golden eyes shone with a hunger that could never be satisfied. Shadows from Dark Winter's lingering presence loomed behind him, but he paid them no mind.
"This," Greed whispered, his voice trembling with excitement, "is the moment I've always deserved."
Slowly, he lowered himself onto the throne. The metallic surface shimmered as his body made contact, its pulsing glow shifting with each second. The realm itself seemed to shudder, the icy winds and fiery storms pausing as if watching the transformation.
The throne began to change.
At first, its liquid-silver surface rippled, then thickened, darkening into a deep, tarnished gold. Intricate patterns of twisting, coiling shapes—resembling chains, coins, and jagged spikes—emerged along its edges, weaving themselves into an intricate design that radiated power and greed. The armrests extended, curling upward like serpents made of molten gold, their eyes glowing faintly with a sinister light.
The base of the throne shifted as well, expanding and reshaping itself into a platform of polished black obsidian inlaid with shimmering gold veins that pulsed like lifeblood. Beneath it, shadowy figures writhed and clawed at the ground, their forms ghostly and undefined, as though they were trapped within the throne's base itself.
The backrest grew taller and more imposing, splitting at the top into two jagged spires, each adorned with faint, glowing runes of Greed's essence. Gems, coins, and other treasures seemed to shimmer within its surface, vanishing and reappearing as if taunting anyone who dared look too closely.
The transformation was complete, and the throne now reflected Greed's very soul—opulent, menacing, and endlessly covetous.
Greed leaned back, his golden eyes half-lidded as a satisfied smirk spread across his face. The throne pulsed beneath him, resonating with his energy, and the realm responded.
On the icy side, the soft glow of Light Winter's domain dimmed slightly, the rivers of light slowing their flow. The auroras in the sky flickered, and the snow-covered ground trembled faintly.
On the dark side, the embers burned brighter, the streams of black liquid bubbling more violently. Crimson lightning cracked louder and faster, splitting the sky with chaotic energy.
Greed spread his arms, as if embracing the realm itself. "Ah... now this feels right, doesn't it?" he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He ran his fingers along the armrests, watching the serpentine designs writhe beneath his touch. "This throne knows me. It understands me."
Dark Winter stood at the final step, his crimson eyes narrowing as he watched the transformation. "Don't forget your promise, Greed," he said coldly, his tone carrying an edge of warning. "This throne is still mine when the time comes."
Greed chuckled, a low, oily sound. "Of course, my King. This is only temporary. I'm merely... holding the seat for you."
But as he spoke, his fingers tightened around the throne's armrests, his golden eyes glinting with something far more dangerous than loyalty.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On the icy side, Light Winter turned sharply, his silver eyes narrowing as he felt the shift in the realm. The energy around him flickered, unstable.
"He's taken it," Light Winter murmured, his tone heavy.
Orion struggled against the chains binding his wrists. The one around his neck had already been shattered, and he could feel some strength returning to him, but the others still held firm.
"Do something!" Orion growled. "You can't just let him—"
"I am doing something," Light Winter interrupted, his voice calm but urgent. He knelt again, placing his glowing hands on the chain binding Orion's right wrist. "But Greed's influence is... different. These chains are his design now. They're stronger. I can only break one more."
"Then break it!" Orion snapped.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Light Winter nodded, his silver aura flaring brightly as he concentrated. The chain around Orion's right wrist trembled, the crimson runes along its surface dimming.
Meanwhile, on the throne, Greed tilted his head slightly, as if sensing something.
"What's this?" he murmured, his smile growing sharper. He leaned forward, resting his chin on one hand. "Someone's trying to break my hold already?"
He raised his other hand lazily, and the golden veins on the throne's base pulsed brighter. The serpentine armrests hissed faintly, and the ghostly figures clawing at the ground grew more frantic.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Light Winter," Greed called out, his voice echoing across the realm. "You might find that playing with my chains has... consequences."
Light Winter gritted his teeth, ignoring the taunt. His glow intensified, and with a sharp crack, the chain around Orion's right wrist shattered, falling away like shards of glass.
Orion gasped, flexing his freed hand. "One more," he said, his voice filled with determination. "Break the last one."
But Light Winter shook his head, his glow already dimming. "Not yet," he said quietly. "This is all I can manage for now."
Orion's fists clenched, his gaze shifting back to the throne. Greed was leaning back now, his smirk growing wider as he watched them with lazy amusement.
"Don't worry," Greed said, his voice a low purr. "I'm not unreasonable. I'll take good care of our dear throne... until it's time for something stronger."
Orion's jaw tightened, the fight far from over.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The noise pulled me from the void.
It started faint, distant whispers brushing against the edges of my mind. But it grew louder. Closer. Relentless.
"Elara! Elara!"
The sound grated against me, tearing apart the perfect silence I had been wrapped in.
"What happened, Maa?" Footsteps followed, pounding like drums, each one dragging me further from the stillness.
"Thud-thud-thud."
My fingers twitched. My breath deepened. Awareness crept back into me like a slow flood, filling every corner of my mind. I opened my eyes.
The world around me came into focus—dim, unfamiliar, and too loud. The worn ceiling above, the faint smell of herbs and medicine, the distant hum of voices... This was Darius's home.
But it didn't feel like home to me.
I sat up slowly, every movement deliberate, controlled. My body felt strange—lighter, stronger, hungrier. It was as though I had been stripped of the weight I once carried, leaving behind something sharper, something unrestrained.
The voices continued, overlapping and chaotic. They were meaningless, their words carrying no value, but they didn't stop.
I stood, planting my feet firmly on the cold wooden floor. My head tilted slightly as I exhaled, the noise crawling under my skin.
This world… it's far too loud.
I took a step forward, each movement feeling new yet purposeful. My fingers brushed against the rough surface of the wall as I steadied myself, the faint light of the room catching the gold in my eyes.
How long has it truly been? Long enough for the world to return to its meaningless clamor. Long enough for them to forget what silence feels like.
I reached the doorway, my gaze locking onto the stairs that spiraled downward. The voices were clearer now—Elara's soft, worried tone, Anara's firm commands, Darius's steady responses.
This is the world I wake up to? A world full of noise, chaos, and insignificant lives scurrying like insects?"
I began to descend the stairs, my steps slow and deliberate. Each creak of the wood beneath me seemed to echo louder than their chatter, but they didn't notice me yet.
This place… these people… they cling to their noise, their chaos, as though it gives their lives meaning. But meaning doesn't come from sound or action. It comes from control. From power.
I paused halfway down the stairs, my hand resting lightly on the wooden railing. Their voices filled the air, careless, unbothered. They didn't know.
They don't understand. They don't see what's coming. But they will. They will learn what it means to exist in my world.
I continued downward, the light from the lower floor casting my shadow long against the wall. The voices suddenly stopped, replaced by a heavy, stunned silence.
They had seen me.
I stepped into the room, my gaze sweeping across their faces. Darius stood frozen, his broad shoulders tense, his mouth slightly open in shock. Anara's hand clutched her chest, her eyes wide with disbelief. Elara and Aria stared at me as though they had seen a ghost.
Ah, there it is. The silence. Finally, they listen.
Elara was the first to move. Her small frame rushed forward, her arms outstretched, tears spilling from her wide eyes. "Ori!" she cried, her voice breaking.
I didn't move as she collided with me, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist. Anara followed, her steps faltering, her breath hitching as she reached me. Then Darius, his steady presence broke as he pulled me into a firm embrace.
They all surrounded me, their warmth pressing in on every side.
The silence was gone now, replaced by muffled sobs and relieved murmurs, but I didn't push them away.
For now… this is enough.
They all surrounded me, their warmth pressing in on every side.
Their noise didn't grate on me now. It was softer, muffled by the weight of their relief. I let them hold me, their trembling hands clinging as though I might disappear again.
But they didn't see it—the hunger glinting in my eyes.
They didn't feel it—the quiet storm brewing beneath my calm.
They wouldn't understand yet—not fully.
But they would.
The world would.
"This world…" I thought, my lips curling into a faint smirk. "No, everything in it... will soon belong to me."
I turned my gaze toward the door, where faint light spilled in from the world beyond.
"And if it doesn't bow…" I exhaled softly, my golden eyes narrowing.
"...it will break."