Aron continued monitoring the royal couple with his sensory ability, but the moment they stepped into their chamber, it was as if some kind of veil was in place, completely blocking his attempts to probe past the entrance.

At the same time, the guard escorting him stopped in front of a large door.

He opened it, then turned stiffly toward Aron.

Aron, who had already scanned the space with his senses long before arriving, stepped inside without hesitation.

The guard gently shut the door behind him and took his position outside.

Aron shook his head with a small smile.

Honestly, he was kind of impressed.

For someone who had been trapped and half buried to the floor by him, the guard still had the guts to act professionally without an ounce of fear, as if nothing had happened.

That alone said alot about the kingdom's discipline.

Aron looked around the room, which was shockingly huge, almost the size of an event hall.

And even more surprising, there was electricity.

The entire castle screamed medieval, yet here he was standing in a well-lit chamber with a temperature-control machine… and an absolutely massive flat-screen mounted on the wall.

Aron would be lying if he said the TV didn't catch him off guard.

But after a moment of taking in the bizarre mix of aesthetics, he didn't dawdle or act like some pampered guest.

He headed straight for the bathroom, the layout of which he had already mapped out using his senses.

To his relief, the bathroom had running water and a shower system.

He stripped naked, summoning soap and a bathing sponge from his storage space.

He wasn't exactly the tidiest person, his upbringing hadn't allowed much luxury in that department, but one thing he could not stand was feeling dirty in any way.

Even after all the battles he fought today, he'd finished without a single stain, let alone a scratch.

Self-care was one of the habit he'd developed back when he used to trade to build discipline… and after a long time, it simply became second nature.

Aron stepped into the shower and washed himself thoroughly.

When he stepped out, a towel materialized in his palm.

He dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and soon found himself standing before a massive mirror.

He stared at his reflection for the first time in a long while.

A very handsome, well-chiseled man with a downright mad physique stared back at him.

Aron gasped.

He didn't care much for looks, but seeing himself now… he couldn't help admiring what he saw.

His skin was ridiculously smooth, his lips carried a faint pink tint, and his body looked as if carved by a divine artisan, something no mortal could ever hope to achieve.

His long hair, which he'd been planning to cut, only added to the look of some ancient lord descending from his clan's mural.

For the first time in ages, Aron found himself mesmerized by the exaggeratedly beautiful figure in the mirror, still struggling to believe it was actually him.

He didn't used to be ugly, but he definitely wasn't this level of handsome.

That's when he noticed something strange about his eyes.

Looking closer, the black in one eye remained normal, while the other had turned white, a contrast that gave him an otherworldly charm.

He quickly chalked it up to his Yin-Yang Eyes ability.

(And to think I ever thought to kill myself just because I was let down by people.)

Tch.

After a few more seconds of unapologetic self-admiration, Aron decided he would absolutely not cut his hair.

He put the towel back into storage and summoned a pair of black trousers, a plain white short-sleeved shirt, and comfy loafers, old pieces stashed in one corner of his storage space.

Feeling refreshed and satisfied, he stepped out of the bathroom.

It was time to claim the prize he'd earned from the now-dead prince.

All the while, his sensory ability remained active.

Aron sat atop the king-size bed, eager to see what he'd gain after applying his rebate talent to the claimable talents...

...but just as he was about to summon his status, he sensed movement.

A moment later, Helena Raim, the bride he'd accidentally gotten soul-bound to, appeared at the doorway.

He had sensed her approaching but hadn't thought she was headed here.

Only when she tried to enter did he realize her target.

"Your Highness, I can't allow you to go in alone," the guard stammered, clearly worried.

Aron couldn't help the amused smile tugging at his lips.

(Is she here to avenge her dead lover?)

...

..

.

Author note:

If you've read this far, then it's clear you're loving the journey just as much as I enjoy writing it.

But here's the truth: stories don't grow on their own. They grow because of you, the readers who stand beside them. And on Webnovel, your Powerstones, Golden ticket and engagement are the heartbeat that keeps a novel alive. Each support you cast isn't just a number on a chart. It's a signal that you want more, that you believe Aron's story deserves to climb higher, to reach more people, to carve its name into the rankings where it belongs.

Your encouragement decides the pace of this journey. Together, we can push this story through the chaos, step by step, one stone, one ticket, one chapter at a time.

So thank you, for every stone, every ticket, every moment you've given this story. You are the reason Aron's world lives and grows.

Let's walk through the apocalypse together

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I

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