Gloom. Once more, it was the only thing extending before Grey's eyes. His gaze, steady and profound, rested upon Camellya, who lay on the ground in a semblance of rest, though her breathing betrayed a storm of agitation within her.
They had escaped, but not without cost. Grey had drawn upon a staggering amount of mana, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. Though his body recovered swiftly, he hadn't emerged unscathed. Before the explosion could engulf them, he had clung tightly to Camellya, hastily casting an improvised spell to collapse the ground beneath them and seek shelter below. What he had intended as a temporary refuge had instead drawn them deeper—into the heart of an unknown, shadowed cavern.
In this world, caves were as omnipresent as water itself. It was an almost inevitable truth that any traveler would stumble upon one in their journey, a certainty etched into the very essence of the land.
"Argh!" Grey's groan shattered the silence. With a trembling hand pressed against his ribs, he conjured a sliver of magic to ease the dull throb in his chest.
Camellya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. Disoriented, her hands sought the ground for support as a sharp pain forced her fingers to her temple.
"What... what happened?" she asked, her voice shaky, her gaze turning to Grey.
"We barely escaped," he replied, his tone grave yet calm. "Don't move. I'll heal you."
He knelt beside her, carefully rolling up part of her pant leg to reveal a burn still smoldering, its edges seeping a slow trickle of blood.
"Ahh… that hurts," she muttered, biting her lip as Grey's fingers brushed against the wound.
A soft, reddish light emanated from his hands, enveloping her leg. The warmth of the magic was gentle but constant, like a soothing balm that began knitting the angry wound closed.
"Thank you," Camellya whispered, a faint smile flickering across her lips.
Grey nodded, helping her to her feet. Slowly, the two of them rose. Camellya's injury had been inflicted by scorching waves of fire—a heat so intense it suffocated the lungs and clouded the mind. It was this that had rendered her unconscious. Grey, though close to succumbing himself, had managed to endure.
I didn't think they'd be that strong... Grey mused, his thoughts tinged with unease.
Turning to Camellya, he gestured toward a tunnel whose maw was swallowed by a darkness so thick it seemed to chill the air.
"We need to get out of here," he urged.
"Wouldn't it be easier to create another tunnel, like the one you used to pull me out of that first cave?" she asked.
"That would be too risky, even for me," Grey admitted, his tone firm yet troubled. "They probably know we escaped and are already hunting us. We need to move before they strike the Human Continent."
Camellya simply nodded, and together, they began their uncertain trek, shadows trailing them like a mantle shrouding every step.
With a simple gesture, Grey conjured a sphere of light to illuminate their path. Camellya instinctively grasped his arm gently, seeking some measure of reassurance in the endless gloom.
After several minutes of walking, a sudden light halted them in their tracks. They froze, their eyes caught by the brilliance that broke through the darkness ahead, as though witnessing something unknown, something long forgotten.
The light emanated more than just illumination; it carried an echo of safety, a warmth that wrapped around their hearts, and, at last, the promise of lives beyond the shadows.
"An underground kingdom?" Camellya murmured, her eyes wide as she took in the sight before them.
This was no ordinary place. Strange beings, unlike any known race, moved through the realm with ease. They were neither human, elf, dwarf, nor beastfolk but seemed a fusion of all these races—and perhaps something more.
Grey couldn't hide his astonishment either. The cavern, bathed in a soft golden glow, was adorned with luminescent vines descending from the ceiling, their fruit glowing with a gentle radiance. The houses, built from a stone that mimicked the texture of wood, stood atop a verdant grass too perfect to be natural.
At the kingdom's entrance, two guards stood vigilant, their eyes sharp and piercing as they fixed on Grey like daggers. A tension coiled in his chest as he noticed the guards' distinct features: horns curling from their heads, pointed ears akin to elves, and long leonine tails swaying with a slow, deliberate menace.
"Humans? No..." growled one of the guards, his voice deep and rough. "Who are you?"
Grey swallowed hard, noting how one of them summoned a blade of fire that crackled menacingly in the air.
"We're human," he answered in a near whisper, his nerves betraying his attempt at calm. "We… we're not here to fight."
The guards exchanged suspicious glances, muttering to each other before their cutting gazes returned to Grey and Camellya.
"Fine," one finally grunted. "You may enter, but know this: cause no trouble."
Grey gave a slight nod of gratitude.
"Thank you," he murmured, moving forward with Camellya at his side.
Within the underground kingdom, things seemed to unfold with a deceptive calmness, as if silence itself held a precarious balance. The inhabitants shared a peculiar and homogeneous appearance: dark horns sprouted from their skulls, curving back with elegant branches, and their deep, almost unfathomable eyes stood out beneath pointed ears reminiscent of elves. However, what most captured Grey's attention were those horns.
They were not exactly the same as those that appeared in his Ryujin form, but they had an unsettling resemblance, as if they were an imperfect replica. His horns, when he transformed, had a unique appearance: dark as the deepest night, they absorbed light with an almost mystical halo. Beautiful rings shone around them, ornaments radiating an aura of divinity, and fine red ribbons fell from their tips, dancing gently with movement. The branches, sharp as the blade of a sword, seemed capable of piercing any material with just a touch.
"Excuse me," Grey suddenly said, stopping a young man carrying a basket full of clothes. The boy, with a simple expression, looked at him wide-eyed, almost in awe. Grey frowned slightly—not with hostility but with genuine curiosity.
"Ah, uh... Sorry. What do you need?" the young man stammered, his words trembling as if Grey's presence had disarmed him.
Grey tilted his head, somewhat intrigued but did not dwell too much on it.
"Could you tell me where the King's castle is?" he asked politely, offering a slight smile meant to instill confidence.
"Oh, uh... yes, sure. It's nearby. Just go straight ahead and you'll see a huge white structure... you can't miss it."
"Got it. Thanks, kid."
Camellya and Grey resumed their march, but the atmosphere changed. Eyes began to settle on them—some furtive, others bold—as if their mere presence was an anomaly. Even the young man who had pointed out the way began to follow them cautiously, believing himself invisible.
As they approached the castle, the crowd grew larger, and Grey, with his blessed perception, sensed something unsettling: none of those present were ordinary beings. They were powerful entities, and even the weakest among them exuded an aura that commanded respect.
Finally, they arrived at the King's castle. The grand structure rose like a monument of whiteness and majesty, and in front of the main door awaited the King. Accompanied by two guards, his bearing was imposing. A smile graced his face as his eyes analyzed Grey and Camellya. But what truly stood out were his horns—distinct from all others. The intensity of his presence seemed to oppress even the air itself, making Grey and Camellya feel a weight on their chests.
"Welcome to my humble home!" announced the King in a deep ceremonial voice. He took a few steps toward Grey, dragging his regal cloak in a movement that spoke of authority and assurance. His arm extended toward him in a friendly gesture, expecting a handshake.
Grey recognizing this intention shook his hand firmly.
"It is an honor to be here, Your Majesty Corey."
The King raised an eyebrow clearly intrigued.
"You... know me?"
"Oh absolutely I know you Your Majesty Corey!" he replied with a smile that seemed to hold secrets—"There is no one in this world who doesn't know your name. We have been waiting for you for quite some time."
The words resonated in Grey's mind; that phrase... he had heard it before from Leo: "We have been waiting for two thousand years." Who exactly was "everyone"? And why were they waiting for him?
He decided to address another matter that intrigued him deeply.
"I apologize but what kind of race are you?"
The question seemed to cause a slight impact. The King momentarily stopped smiling and withdrew his hand calmly. Camellya beside Grey felt shivers; she knew this question might not have been the most appropriate but something in her intuition told her it wouldn't unleash conflict.
Finally, the King renewed his smile though less jovial and let out a soft laugh.
"I knew you would ask that Your Majesty Corey," he said thoughtfully—"We... are many races in one DNA; to be exact we are fused from all known races."
"How...?" whispered Grey unable to contain his astonishment.
The King lifted his chin proudly yet with a hint of sadness.
"Our horns come from half-dragons—a race extinguished during the war against Demon King Astaroth; our ears from majestic elves of Alfheim; our keen senses from beastmen leaders of Vinkas; our skill in construction and forging from dwarves—the best blacksmiths in existence—and our human face... that Your Majesty Corey comes from your own race—the fairest most kind beings."
The explanation left Grey immersed in thought—a race fused from many others… how could this be possible?
"How does something like this exist?" he asked unable to contain his curiosity.
The King sighed deeply darkening expression.
"We are results of experiments conducted by Outer Kings; Queen Eleanor Astor was who gave rise to our existence but... I would prefer not discussing further about it."
A heavy melancholy descended upon the group.
"I understand..." murmured Grey trying to empathize wanting to break the air of sadness with another question.
"How is it that you were waiting for me?"
The King regained some energy.
"That's easy to explain Your Majesty Corey! Perhaps Mr Leo has already spoken about it…"
"One moment," Grey interrupted him—"Before continuing tell me your name Your Majesty."
"Oh what oversight! My name is Samson and I am King Nurukaidos—the artificial race; I have ruled this place for twelve hundred years."
Grey remained silent, lost in his thoughts. It was evident that the magnitude of what was happening exceeded even his expectations. It was then that Camellya, who had been quiet for a long time, broke the silence with a hesitant question:
—So you...?
Before she could finish, the King responded calmly, as if he had already anticipated the question:
—Yes, Your Majesty Camellya. I am the highest authority in the entire world.
Grey felt an impulse to ask why someone like Samson held that title, but the mere presence of the King was enough to understand it. The power emanating from Samson was overwhelming, something incomparable even to what Grey had faced in his battle with Robert. It was an abyss so vast that Grey knew, without a doubt, that even unleashing all his potential would not give him any chance against him. Even Robert, whose strength had defied all logic, would be an insignificant opponent compared to the King of the Nurukaidos.
Meanwhile, Camellya felt an unusual unease. It was not a matter of logic that led her to question his authority; it was a visceral impulse, a burning spark arising from a deep corner of her being, as if an ancient instinct urged her to challenge the impossible.
—Your Majesty Samson, why don't you rebel against the Outer Kings? —she finally asked, her voice laden with boldness and contained frustration.
The King let out a heavy sigh, and a shadow of melancholy crossed his features.
—We cannot. That would mean rising against the gods themselves. Your Majesty Corey, you are the only one who can destroy those damned corrupt Kings. During your imprisonment, they subjugated both humans and us Nurukaidos, treating us like mere slaves. We tried to rise up, but the gods intervened, preventing our freedom and ensuring that their "toys" remained in captivity. Only after 400 years were we able to escape and build our civilization underground.
Grey clenched his fist upon hearing this, and a wave of mana began to emanate from his body. His eyes reflected a whirlwind of emotions, but before his anger could overflow, Camellya gently took his arm to calm him.
—And what about the humans? —Grey asked, his voice heavy with a mix of concern and sorrow.
Samson looked down, his expression filled with guilt.
—they could not escape. It's as if they were the sole target of the Outer Kings. They captured them and have kept them as slaves for the last fifteen hundred years. I deeply regret it, Your Majesty Corey. I failed to save those of your race.
The pain in Samson's words resonated with everyone present. The guards behind him averted their gaze as if their eyes reflected the horrors they had witnessed. Some civilians listening from afar began to cry, their tears falling like echoes of wounds still open in their collective memory.
Grey stepped forward and placed a firm hand on the King's shoulder, forcing him to look him in the eyes.
—Don't worry —he said in a calm voice laden with unexpected warmth. He smiled in a way that held no trace of resentment—. I can destroy the Outer Kings, but it won't be today.
Samson lifted his head, visibly comforted by Grey's gesture, although the gravity of the moment did not entirely dissipate.
—I understand —the King replied solemnly—. Recently, the power of the Outer Kings has alarmingly increased, so it is understandable. But Your Majesty Corey, how long do you think you will need to reach the strength necessary to confront them?
Grey fell silent, quickly reflecting. Although he didn't have a definitive answer, he forced himself to estimate.
—Two hundred years. But I can only stay a maximum of three months here before I have to return to the human continent.
The King nodded in understanding, although his gaze filled with determination.
—Understood... Kolf!
A young Nurukaido dressed elegantly like a butler appeared almost instantly.
—What can I do for you, Your Highness? —the young man asked calmly while bowing his head.
—I need you to take Mr. Corey to Master Aurora. They will train for two thousand years.
—What?! —exclaimed both Grey and Camellya in unison, surprised. Grey was the first to respond with disbelief.
—Did you hear me when I said I can only stay three months?
Samson smiled calmly as if he had already anticipated this.
—Of course, Your Majesty Corey. That will be the time you spend outside. Here in the Nurukaido Kingdom, you will spend two thousand years. It is more than enough for you to develop incomparable power.
Grey tried to calculate the time adjustment in his mind even though math was not exactly his strong suit. Meanwhile, Camellya appeared deeply worried—a fact that Samson noticed immediately.
—is something wrong Your Majesty Camellya? —he asked gently softening his tone and looking at her with genuine concern.
Camellya bit her lip and looked up at Samson with an expression of uncertainty.
—it's just… I…
—Don't worry, Your Majesty Camellya. We had anticipated something like this, so your wedding ceremony is already prepared.
Camellya stood still, processing the King's words in disbelief.
—A... wedding ceremony? —she murmured, her face instantly flushing red.
Grey watched her, and to Camellya's surprise, he was smiling, excited like a child at a fascinating idea.
The King continued explaining calmly:
—When a man and a woman marry, their souls become linked. In your case, Your Majesty Corey, your blessing will be shared with Your Majesty Camellya. All your magic, skills, and transformations will be at her disposal. And most importantly, when one of you grows in power, the other will do so as well.
Camellya lowered her gaze, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that overwhelmed her. Meanwhile, Grey appeared more determined than ever, accepting what the ceremony entailed not just as a duty but as an unbreakable bond.
Camellya was stunned, as if a bomb had struck her mind. "A wedding ceremony?" she thought, her face igniting in a blush she couldn't hide. Grey looked at her, and his smile, inexplicably filled with emotion and enthusiasm, only intensified the feeling that overwhelmed her.
A wedding ceremony. The idea had never crossed Grey's mind, but now that it was before him, it felt right, even natural. He knew well what it entailed: when a man and a woman marry, their souls become entwined. And in the case of someone blessed like him, the bond transcends the emotional or symbolic. He would share with Camellya all his power, his magic, even his transformations. Their destinies would be irrevocably linked. If he grew in strength, she would too.
Overwhelmed by Samson's words and the intensity of the moment, Camellya walked up to Grey, resting her forehead against his chest in an attempt to hide her blush.
—What should we do? —she whispered with a trembling voice—. Isn't it... too soon to get married?
Grey hesitated, searching for the right words, but in his heart, the answer was already clear.
—I... —he began, taking a deep breath—. I want you to marry me. It may be too soon, but deep down in my heart, I wish for it to be you.
Camellya lifted her gaze slightly, her blush intensifying on her cheeks before hiding her face against Grey's chest again. He gently embraced her, wrapping her in a gesture that seemed to reaffirm his promise.
—Alright... —she finally murmured, a mix of nervousness and determination—. Let's get married.
Too fast!
Samson, who had been observing the scene with a warm and satisfied smile, stepped forward.
—Then, Your Majesty Corey, Your Majesty Camellya, follow me. We will take you to the altar.
With those words, the attendees began to move toward the interior of the castle. The gazes of the Nurukaidos were filled with wonder and joy. There was going to be a wedding!