Not just suspended.. impaled.

Thick, jagged spikes of some pure white metal pierced through his body at every angle. One massive spear impaled his chest clean through, pinning him like a butterfly on display. Others jutted through his thighs, his forearms, his shoulders, suspending him in a grotesque crucifixion.

Yet despite the torment, the man was not frail.

His body was still magnificent, even broken.. bulky, carved with muscle that spoke of a lifetime of strength. His long black hair, wild and unkempt, framed his face and shoulders, still holding a strange, untamed beauty. His features were harsh, weathered with time, but undeniably powerful.

Even though in torment, the man looked majestic.

Suspended in the void-white chamber, impaled by same material spikes thicker than a man's arm, his body radiated an authority that time had failed to strip away. His muscles were still cut like stone, the bulk of a warrior who had lived battle after battle. His long black hair fell around his shoulders in wild, tangled strands, still rich and full despite years in captivity.

If not for the faint lines on his weathered face.. creases at the edges of his mouth, shadows beneath his eyes he would have looked like a man at the peak of his life. Even so, there was no denying it: he was superior than most men would ever be .

His eyes were shut, lids heavy, his chest unmoving. But what drew Razeal's attention most was the unnatural stillness around the wounds. The great spikes that impaled him through chest, thighs, arms.. did not bleed. Not a single drop. The flesh around them looked sealed, as if even the body's right to leak had been stripped away. A grotesque preservation.

Razeal sat silently within his own chamber, staring through the shadow-vision he had forced to connect here. For several seconds he simply studied the man's face, even though his eyes were closed. His mind was weary, his body felt shredded from within, but when he looked at that face sharp jaw, thick brows, the shadow of an untamed beast lying dormant his fatigue lightened.

"It's him…"

The words slipped through his bloodied lips like a sigh of relief.

At last.

No more wasting time. No more burning his mind raw across seventy-three thousand shadows one by one. No more gambling on faces that weren't the one he needed.

Finally, the old man had been found.

Razeal dragged himself up from where he'd been slumped on the cold white floor of his own chamber. His legs trembled, but strength returned with every heartbeat, fed by the satisfaction of success. He wiped the little blood streaking down from his temple, smearing crimson across his pale cheek, and looked down.

At his shadow.

The faint smirk tugging at his lips deepened.

"Shadow Teleportation."

His voice was low but steady, carrying a confidence that the sterile walls could not smother.

The shadow beneath his feet rippled like disturbed water, spinning in a slow spiral before collapsing inward. The polished white floor warped, turning black as though a hole had been carved into reality itself.

It wasn't just a hole. It was bottomless. A hungry void, a wormhole made of darkness that yawned wide to swallow him whole.

His legs sank first, then his waist, his chest. Blood still clung to his face, but his expression remained calm enough to look insane.

And then, in silence, his body sank into the blackness and vanished.

The chamber he left behind, eternal and inescapable, was once again perfectly empty.

Chamber 13,656.

From the shadow beneath the suspended man, something shifted.

First a flicker, then the faintest outline of a head.

Razeal rose from the darkness as though climbing from water, his body emerging smoothly from the still shadow stretched thin beneath the old man's dangling feet. One moment he was nowhere, the next he was there.. standing, whole, not a sound betraying his arrival.

He lifted his gaze.

The old man hung suspended only meters before him, body pierced and held by spikes, head lowered slightly in eternal stillness. The silence was heavy, absolute, broken only by Razeal's steady breaths.

Then

The old man's eyes snapped open.

Wild. Untamed. Like the sudden glare of a predator awakened after years of sleep.

A suffocating aura burst from him in an instant, primal and ferocious, the kind of instinctive might that couldn't be trained, only born. It flooded the chamber like a crashing tide, invisible teeth gnashing against Razeal's skin, demanding submission.

Razeal smiled.

Not a twitch of hesitation or flinch.

Compared to the horrors he had walked through, the killing intent of this man this beast was little more than a thrilling gust of wind.

The old man tilted his head slightly, throwing his black hair back from his face. Even impaled, he was regal. Even bound, he looked like a king. His voice, when it came, was deep and majestic, echoing against the sterile chamber walls.

"Who are you?"

His eyes bored into Razeal's, sharp and ancient. "brat."

Razeal met his gaze without blinking, the smirk still resting on his bloodied lips. "I'm here to take you out."

The old man's brows furrowed. His voice hardened, weight pressing against the boy like a blade. "I asked who are you. Answer that first."

Razeal exhaled slowly through his nose, tilting his head just slightly. He could feel the pride rolling off this man in waves. The demand for respect. The insistence on formality, on identity.

"I am Razeal," he said at last, his tone still casual "I heard you know the way to the Ocean Black."

The moment the words left his lips, the old man's entire expression shifted. His eyes lifted, surprise flashing across their depth, and for the first time his lips twitched into something resembling… a smile.

"Ocean Black?"

The old man's voice rolled through the chamber like thunder trapped inside stone. His eyes glinted for the first time, surprise flaring with a touch of joy. "Even after all these years, people still remember those words…"

He ignored the boy's name entirely, his interest hooked solely on that phrase, his gaze sharpening as if he had been waiting decades for someone to speak it aloud.

"So, kid… how did you get in here?" His head shifted slightly, black hair falling across his face. "And more importantly… how are you still sane?"

His eyes flickered across the sealed white chamber, searching for cracks, doors, windows.. any explanation. There was none. This was Eternal Hold. And then at bloodied face of kid.

Razeal straightened. "Razeal!" he corrected, his eyes boring into the man's. "Its Razeal."

For a moment, the old man stared. Then a low chuckle escaped his lips, rich and gravelly, echoing in the emptiness. It was as if the spikes pinning him didn't even exist, as if the pain of being impaled was too small for a man of his will.

"Ohhh… so you do have a spine," he said, amusement tugging at his expression. "Even the spikes can't silence arrogance in children these days. Very well.. Razeal." His voice grew louder on the name, biting and deliberate. "So tell me again… how did you get in here? And sane? After staying in this hell?"

Razeal raised a bloody hand and pulled a small white handkerchief from his pocket, beginning to wipe his face casually, as though this were nothing more than idle conversation. "Same as you," he replied coolly. "And sane? Aren't you.. even after almost thirty years in this place."

The old man's head tilted back, a wild grin splitting his lips. "Oh no… no, boy. I am not like everyone. I'm special."

Razeal smirked. "So am I."

For reasons even he couldn't fully explain, the old man laughed again deep, booming, amused despite himself. "Pfhhht! Hah! Amused by your audacity, brat." His teeth flashed in the white emptiness.

The laughter faded. His eyes sharpened. "What do you want from me, then? What could make you drag yourself into my prison?"

Razeal's smirk widened. "Take me to the Ocean Black. That's my only destination."

The old man chuckled, his voice carrying like rolling stones. "Hah! Trying to reach the Ocean, are you? Aren't you afraid of becoming criminal? Wait… If you're standing here, it means the Empire already cast you aside. They wouldn't put someone they care about in this graveyard." His grin widened, teeth glinting. "Or wait… did you come here just for me?"

Razeal said nothing. Just shrugged wiping away the last of the blood from his temple and flicking the stained handkerchief downward. The fabric vanished into his shadow, devoured instantly, leaving no trace

The old man's eyes flickered at that shrug. Then at the strange power that consumed the boy's handkerchief like a hungry beast. His thoughts whispered, He can use mana here? Impossible… this place seals everything. But he kept his expression unchanged, only blinking slowly as his grin grew.

"I can give you the direction," the old man finally said, voice a low rumble. "But the rest will be on you."

"No." Razeal shook his head slowly. His voice was firm, ironclad. "You'll go with me. All the way."

The old man's brows furrowed, then relaxed into a mocking smile. "Hey, you clearly know who I am. So you must also know I only have four years left to live. Why waste what little time I have walking someome around the world? I want to etch my name in history, not play guide for some others. I don't like working with anyone. And if I were to walk beside you, the only one harmed… would be you."

His eyes gleamed, majesty radiating from them despite his chains. His voice carried a fierce passion, undimmed even by thirty years of imprisonment. "I will use the last of my years to carve my legacy into the bones of this world. That is my will."

Razeal's smirk twisted into something feral, his bloodied face lit by the madness of his confidence. "Then become my subordinate. Give me those four years, and your name will be etched into history forever… through me."

The silence shattered with the old man's roaring laughter. His head fell back, black hair spilling, his laughter booming so hard the spikes trembled.

"Hahhhahahahaha! Pftttt! Hahahaha!"

If not for the impalement, he would have been rolling across the floor. His mirth echoed endlessly, mocking, wild.

"The whole Empire wasn't able to tame me," he bellowed between laughs. "So why you think a sixteen-year-old brat can make me his subordinate? Hah! What dreams you dream, Razeal!"

But the boy didn't so much as blink. He stood straight, unbothered, his shadow swirling faintly beneath his feet. His voice was flat, unwavering.

"You'll rot in this place anyways. Become my subordinate."

The old man's laughter died slowly. He grinned, shaking his head. "You don't get it, boy. I don't sign contracts. I don't bend. Freedom is the only thing I live for. Do you think anyone can make me submit?"

"Who said anything about a contract?" Razeal's smiled.

The old man stopped laughing. His grin faded, curiosity flickering in his eyes. He stared at the boy, studying him from head to toe, before his gaze settled back on those eyes.. those dangerous, unwavering eyes.

"I only need your words," Razeal continued. His voice was calm, but there was steel beneath it. "Just say it. Say you'll be my loyal subordinate."

The old man's brows shot up. Then his lips twisted again, this time into a grin that was half shock, half amusement.

"Ohhhhhh…!" His voice boomed, echoing off the empty white walls. "You would dare demand that of me? You think a word binds me? Trust me that much already, Razeal?"

His gaze sharpened, eyes glittering with something primal. "What if I say it, then walk free and leave you behind? What could you do to stop me?"

Razeal's smirk curved into something darker, sharper. His voice dropped low, carrying a chill that slithered through the chamber like a blade pressed to the skin.

"I don't believe in anyone. It's just that I don't force anyone. As for you betraying me... I'll only say Dont, because it's only you who will regret it." Razeal smirked dangerously.

The words fell like stone into a pond, ripples of menace radiating outward.

The old man's laughter burst forth again, but this time it was different. His mirth was tinged with genuine intrigue, even admiration. He leaned forward as much as the spikes allowed, his wild grin growing wider.

"You know that even that Empress wasn't able to make me regret. Do you think a 16-year-old will?" The old man chuckled slightly. He couldn't believe that after years, kids would be like this.

"Try me," Razeal said simply. His voice did not waver. His eyes did not flinch.

The old man paused. His grin lingered, but his laughter died. Slowly, deliberately, he cracked his neck to the side, eyes narrowing. He looked into the boy's gaze, searching, testing or trying to maybe scare him.

And the boy did not break.

The confidence radiating from him was no longer youthful pride. It was something else.. something dangerous, unshakable.

The old man stared deeper, and for the first time in decades, he wondered.

Is this ignorance?

Or…

Is he truly serious?

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Hey guys! A special shoutout to reader yym327 .. Always thanks so much for all the love, support, and motivation!

Big thanks as well for Magic Castle.. Not to say others all gifts here and there.

And of course, thank you to everyone for still reading and be for here. Don't forget to drop your Power Stones and Golden Tickets!

And also thanks for creating small salry for me guys.. just came.. Amma go get something for me finally... Ahhh 🤧❣️

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