The room felt like a suffocating tomb, its oppressive atmosphere laced with overwhelming mana that pressed against the chest and made even the simplest breath feel labored. The dim glow of a solitary enchanted crystal cast eerie shadows on the polished obsidian walls, distorting the faces of the four figures seated around the long, imposing table.
At the head of the table sat a red-haired man, his fiery hair catching the faint light as his sharp gaze swept over the room. His presence radiated authority, and his grin was sharp and predatory. "We've waited long enough. Tonight, we move," he declared, his voice cutting through the heavy air like a blade. We'll strike swiftly, wipe them out, and make sure there's nothing left to cause a threat to us."
The bulky man sat silently across from him, his large hands resting on the table. Though his expression was calm, there was a quiet intensity in his gaze, a readiness that needed no words to be understood. His sheer presence assured anyone that he was ready for the task ahead.
Seated to the red-haired man's right, the slim man leaned back slightly in his chair, his sharp features cast in half-shadow. His slender fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest, betraying the tension he tried to mask.
Though he remained outwardly composed, his posture was stiff, and his eyes flickered with a subtle unease as he listened. He hadn't spoken a word, but the faint crease in his brow and the way his gaze avoided the others said enough—he didn't want to be here.
The red-haired man's grin widened as his eyes landed on the slim man. "You're quiet, What's wrong? Cold feet already?"
The slim man's fingers paused mid-tap. He straightened in his chair, his expression hardening as he met the red-haired man's gaze. "Not at all," he replied smoothly, his tone even but cold. "I just don't see the need for theatrics. We all know what's at stake. Let's not waste time with grandstanding."
The red-haired man laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Always the charmer. You can try to hide it, but I know reluctance when I see it. Don't think you can half-ass for a second and let the rest of us do the work."
The slim man's jaw tightened, and his knuckles whitened as he gripped the armrests of his chair. "If I commit to something, I see it through. Don't mistake my silence for weakness."
The bulky man shifted slightly in his seat, his gaze flickering between the two but remaining silent. His calm demeanor starkly contrasted the tension crackling between the red-haired and slim man; he appeared unbothered by their bickering.
The lone woman, seated to the left of the bulky man, interrupted the standoff with a sharp voice. "Enough. We're wasting time. Let's focus." Her ocean-blue eyes turned to the red-haired man. "What's the plan for containment? Someone must ensure they are maintained if we're using the Orb of Filament, the Stone of Illusion, and the portal jammer, No mistakes."
The red-haired man's grin turned icy as he turned back to the slim man. "He'll handle it," he said, gesturing toward him. "Since he's so eager to avoid the 'theatrics,' the Orb and the Stone is the perfect job. It doesn't get more straightforward than that keep the barrier up and make sure no one escapes."
The slim man's lips twitched, but he said nothing, his silence speaking louder than words. His hands remained tightly clenched, his nails biting into his palms as he gave the faintest nod.
"Good," the red-haired man continued, clearly enjoying the tension. "With him on the Orb, the rest of us can focus on wiping them out." He turned to the bulky man. "Your family will spearhead the assault. I trust you won't let us down."
The bulky man inclined his head, his deep voice calm and steady. "We'll handle it. No one will survive."
"Excellent," the red-haired man said, clapping his hands together. "Now, for the final piece of this arrangement." He reached into his coat and withdrew a piece of parchment, its sinister glow bathing the table in a cold, otherworldly light. "The mana oath contract. No one leaves until this is signed."
The room grew even heavier, the oppressive air thickening as the parchment was placed on the table. The slim man's eyes lingered on it for a fraction too long, his fingers twitching slightly before he quickly masked the hesitation.
The red-haired man smirked. "Second thoughts already? Or are you just enjoying the view?"
The slender man's voice was sharp as he reached for the parchment. "Just making sure you haven't included any fine print." He carefully examined the text, his keen eyes scanning each line.
The bulky man and the woman picked up their copies and read silently. When the bulky man set him down, he said, "No issues." The woman nodded in agreement, her expression neutral.
After a moment, the slim man placed his parchment back on the table, his face carefully blank. "It's fine."
One by one, they pricked their thumbs and let a single drop of blood fall onto the parchment, the contracts emitted an eerie, guttural moan as the blood touched the surface, as if savoring the offering. The sound reverberated through the room, causing even the most composed to flinch.
"It's done," the red-haired man said, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "We're all bound now. No one backs out, and no one fails." He glanced at the slim man, his grin sharpening. "Especially you."
The slim man gave a small, curt nod, his expression unreadable as he leaned back in his chair.
The woman stood, her voice cutting through the silence. "We've wasted enough time. Everyone knows their role. Let's move."
The red-haired man rose to his feet, his grin spreading wide. "Tomorrow night, they fall. And this world will finally bend to us."
The suffocating air seemed to pulse with sinister energy, the room itself anticipating the bloodshed.
******THE NEXT DAY
November 26, Year 0040 of the New Earth calendar After Apocalypse (A A), planet Earth,
6:45 AM
Thunder god Domain/continent, Thunder Mansion
In November, much of the world embraces winter, and the Thunder Domain is no exception. Snow blankets the land, and most people wake to prepare for the day.
At the heart of the domain stands a towering mansion—perhaps better described as a castle—visible from nearly every corner of the region. A marvel of advanced and ancient technology, it blends the past and future into an awe-inspiring structure.
Inside, in one of its many lavish rooms, a young man sprawled across a king-size bed, shifting slightly in his sleep in search of a more comfortable position. But before he could settle, a soft click echoed through the room as a young woman entered. She picked up a remote, pressed a few buttons, and the room transformed.
The heavy drapes slid apart, allowing golden sunlight to spill through, casting warmth across the previously dim space. Additional sources of light flickered to life, breathing a vibrant glow into the once-muted surroundings.
"Young Master, please wake up. Your family is already waiting in the dining room," the maid announced in a professional yet gentle tone, standing by the bed.
A muffled groan came from the young man as he stirred. "Ehn…" He rubbed his eyes before blinking at the maid. "Good morning, Lora. How was your night?"
"It was pleasant, Young Master. It would be even better if you could get out of bed and freshen up in time to join your family for breakfast."
"Oh," he muttered before stretching lazily. He glanced at Lora and said, "I'll take a shower. Have my outfit ready when I return—something simple."
With that, he disappeared into the bathroom.
A few minutes later, he emerged wearing a bathrobe, a towel draped over his shoulders. He ran a hand through his damp yellow hair, exhaling contentedly.
"Nothing feels better than a warm bath," he murmured as he strolled into the dressing area. There, neatly laid out on a stand, was the outfit Lora had chosen for him. A chuckle escaped him as he studied the clothing.
"She still doesn't know the meaning of casual… Well, no point changing it now," he mused, shaking his head as he dressed.
….
A young man strolled through the grand hallway, his black trench coat flowing behind him. The corridor was adorned with ancient artifacts, their intricate details glowing softly under the golden light of chandeliers.
His light yellow hair and striking yellow eyes stood out, further enhanced by the golden cross-shaped earring in his right ear. He was undeniably handsome, and his all-black attire—trench coat, fitted shirt, trousers, and polished shoes—only amplified his presence.
This was Alex Tyr. And his journey was just beginning.
The massive dining hall housed a long mahogany table, its surface polished to perfection. Thirty ornately designed chairs surrounded it, though only a few were occupied. Above them, a chandelier bathed the room in a warm glow, illuminating the rich décor.
Four individuals sat at the table while maids moved efficiently around them, preparing breakfast.
At the head of the table sat a man with sharp yellow eyes and a well-defined jawline. His mere presence radiated authority, and his powerful physique was evident even in repose. Though he made an effort to suppress it, an aura of overwhelming strength occasionally flickered around him.
This was Lucian Tyr, sovereign of humanity, overlord of the Thunder Domain, and the strongest human alive.
To his right sat a woman whose flowing black hair cascaded just past her shoulders. Her jet-black eyes were intelligent and sharp, her features delicate—more cute than conventionally beautiful. Though petite, she carried herself with an air of quiet confidence.
She was Mona Perl Tyr, the greatest technician in the world and Lucian Tyr's wife.
To Lucian's left sat a young man who closely resembled Alex but with a more mature, chiseled appearance. His yellow hair and piercing blue eyes gave him a regal presence, accentuated by the golden cross-shaped earring on his right ear.
This was Logan Tyr, the eldest son and heir to the Thunder Domain. A Master+ rank entity, he stood just one sub-rank away from the prestigious Grandmaster rank.
Opposite him sat a young woman with radiant yellow hair and striking red eyes. The combination did not make her look unnatural; it elevated her beauty to a dangerous allure.
She was Morgan Tyr, a pseudo-expert rank entity and the Princess of the Thunder Domain. Many feared and revered her under the title "Little Demoness."
Lucian tapped his fingers against the table, a slight frown crossing his face as he glanced at Mona, who was fully absorbed in her book.
"Mona, I've been thinking—don't you find it a little irritating that we must wait for Alex every morning before eating? He could just join us later," he grumbled.
Mona responded without lifting her eyes from the page, "Lucian, we've discussed this before. No one eats until we're all together. This is the only time we get as a family."
She turned a page before continuing, "By lunchtime, everyone is scattered, and at dinner, either you or Logan are late or have eaten elsewhere. Only Alex consistently joins me for dinner. So, don't complain. Besides, you're the one who skips meals the most."
Lucian's face twitched, but he held his tongue. Logan, watching his father's reaction, sighed inwardly. 'Outside, he's the strongest man alive, but at home, he's just a regular husband. Women are terrifying.'
4 minutes and 26 seconds later…
The dining hall doors swung open, and Alex strolled in. A small smirk played on his lips as he saw everyone seated.
I'm Late as always. Dad's going to give me an earful again, he thought.
He walked over to his mother and kissed her cheek. "Good morning, Mom."
"That's not going to stop me from scolding you after breakfast, young man," Mona said, though a smile tugged at her lips.
"Morning, Dad. Yo, what's up, Logan? Morgan," Alex greeted as he slid into the seat beside his sister.
Morgan merely nodded in acknowledgment, but Logan raised an eyebrow.
"I still don't understand why you always sit on Mom's side of the table when you should be sitting near Dad," Logan remarked.
Alex smirked. Still as rigid as ever.
"What's wrong with being a mama's boy?" Alex countered. "Besides, Dad doesn't complain."
All eyes turned to Lucian, especially Mona's, her stare expectant as if on cue,
Lucian, maintaining a stoic face, sighed inwardly. This boy… He knows exactly how to play his cards. If I answer wrong, I lose.
"Leave him be, Logan," Lucian said, his voice firm. "It's just breakfast. Now, can we eat? I have an important appointment today."
Mona arched a brow but didn't argue. The maids swiftly set the table, arranging dishes and drinks according to preference before retreating.
Silence settled over the hall as Lucian gave a final glance around the table before picking up his cutlery. The moment he took his first bite, everyone else followed suit.
For a few moments, the only sound was the soft clinking of utensils.
Then—
Tsk. This is too boring. It's time to liven things up a bit.
Alex looked up from his plate and locked eyes with Logan, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
"Hey, I heard you got a girlfriend."
The words sent a ripple through the room. Lucian, who had been about to reprimand Alex for teasing, froze mid-sentence. All eyes snapped to Logan.
After a moment of stunned silence, Logan coughed violently, nearly choking on his food. He shot Alex a deadly glare. You're dead after this meal.
But Alex wasn't done.
His grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, dragging out his words as he savored every second. "What was her name again? Yǐng Yàn, right? The daughter of the Fire Clan's head?"
The reaction was immediate.
Morgan's chair scraped harshly against the floor as she shot to her feet, her red eyes blazing. "What?!" she shrieked, her voice slicing through the room like a whip. "Logan, tell me he's lying!"
Logan exhaled a long, suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. This damn brat… He gave Alex a warning glare, his eyes silently promising: You're dead after dinner.
But Alex, relishing the chaos, delivered the final blow.
"Oh, come on, Logan, no need to be shy." His tone was teasing, his smirk infuriating. "Didn't you start dating her right after you won the Master Rank tournament? That would make it, what… two months now?"
Logan clenched his jaw. You are so dead.
Morgan's hands slammed down on the table, rattling the plates. "So it's true?!" she demanded. "I thought you hated that bitch—"
"Morgan, language," Mona interjected, her tone carrying a quiet warning.
"Sorry, Mom," Morgan muttered, though she didn't sound sorry at all. Her glare remained locked onto Logan, her voice dripping with disbelief. "But seriously, her? Logan, I thought you had better taste. At least better than Alex, who chases after a pretty face."
"Huh? What did I do?" Alex asked, feigning innocence.
Morgan rolled her eyes. "Don't act dumb. Everyone knows you're a player."
"Not my fault I'm handsome." Alex shrugged, shoveling another spoonful of food into his mouth.
Morgan let out an exasperated sigh before turning back to Logan. "But you, Lucas, I thought you had more sense. That girl is…" She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "Troublesome."
Alex smirked. "Like you can talk, Miss Little Demon."
Morgan's head snapped toward him, eyes narrowing. "What did you just say, Alex?"
"Nothing. Just eating." He shoveled another bite into his mouth, avoiding her gaze.
Mona cleared her throat before Morgan could press the issue, shooting both of them a pointed look. "Enough, you two." She turned to Logan, her voice softer. "Honey, we're happy that you found someone."
"Thanks, Mom," Logan said, though he still looked like he wanted to strangle Alex.
Mona smiled, but then added, "Your father and I were beginning to worry. You're in your twenties now, and you still haven't dated anyone—unlike someone who went through a dozen girlfriends before eighteen."
Alex groaned. "Oh, come on. Why does everyone have to bring that up?"
Mona cut him off before he could protest further. "I'm not saying it's wrong, but it doesn't exactly give the best impression. I wonder what the girl you end up with will think when she learns about your history."
Alex nearly choked on his food before bursting into laughter. "Mom, you don't have to worry about that. I don't see myself falling in love. I'm too handsome for just one woman to handle." He leaned back lazily, grinning. "I have no plans to marry, no plans for kids. Relationships and family? Just stress and chains tying you down."
Lucian and Mona exchanged a glance, something unspoken passing between them.
Morgan exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. "That's why they call you the Lazy Genius." Her voice was tinged with annoyance. "You have talent people would kill for, and all you want to do is waste it, drifting through life without ambition."
Alex smirked. "Too bad for them, huh?" He stretched, completely unbothered. "Why shouldn't I enjoy life? Logan's going to be clan head. You'll be commanding the family's forces. With you handling security and him running the administration, what else is left for me, the youngest? I might as well enjoy the fruits of your labor."
The room fell into silence.
For a moment, everyone just looked at Alex. Different emotions flickered across their faces—understanding, disapproval, frustration—but no one spoke.
Finally, Morgan broke the silence, her voice quieter this time. "I still don't get you." Her gaze searched his face as if trying to piece together something she had never fully understood. "Most people would fight for the position of clan head, but you… you're just letting it go."
Then, as if something finally clicked, she whispered, "I think I understand now." Her expression darkened with realization. "Mom always said you weren't lazy, just lacking ambition. That's it, isn't it? It's not that you don't care—it's that you just… won't try."
Sensing the tension rising again, Mona stepped in with a gentle but firm voice. "Sweetheart, I think we should end this conversation here." She turned to Alex. "And you should think about what your sister said. A little more effort wouldn't hurt."
Alex shrugged. "I don't see the point. I'm still one of the strongest in my generation, even without trying too hard. As long as I don't fall behind my peers, I'm fine." He wiped his mouth with a napkin before standing up, his plate barely touched.
Then, pausing by the door, he glanced back at Morgan.
"I just want to live a normal life. Is that too much to ask?"
With that, he walked out.
Lucian, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, watched him go, a shadow passing over his expression.
'Alex… those of us with the bloodline of the gods aren't allowed to live normal lives.'