Chapter 194: Create
Denzel fell.
There was no time to think.
One second, he was hanging from the edge of the floor.
The next, the hands had pulled him free.
He tried to grab something.
Anything.
His fingers scraped against stone.
Nothing held.
The darkness swallowed him.
"Denzel!"
His mother’s voice echoed above him.
He couldn’t see her anymore.
Couldn’t see his father.
Couldn’t see the chamber.
Only darkness.
Then the hands disappeared.
Denzel expected to keep falling.
Instead, his feet touched the ground.
Hard.
He stumbled forward and caught himself.
For several seconds, he didn’t move.
His breathing was heavy.
His dagger was still in his hand.
He looked around.
Nothing.
The darkness wasn’t empty.
He could feel something watching him.
Denzel slowly raised his hand.
A faint silver glow appeared around his fingers.
The light expanded.
The room became visible.
Denzel stared.
He was standing in a massive circular chamber.
There were no walls that he could see.
Only enormous pillars disappearing into darkness above.
Seven of them.
Each pillar carried one of the symbols from the Crown.
Denzel turned slowly.
Behind him was nothing.
No hole.
No staircase.
No way back.
"Great."
His voice echoed.
"Really great."
A sound came from somewhere ahead.
Footsteps.
Denzel immediately raised his dagger.
One step.
Then another.
A figure appeared between the pillars.
An old man.
He wore a long black robe.
His hair was completely white.
His face was older than anyone Denzel had ever seen.
Yet his eyes were sharp.
Silver.
The same silver Denzel had seen in the mural.
The man stopped several meters away.
Denzel stared at him.
"You’re the First King."
The old man smiled.
"So you finally came."
Denzel tightened his grip.
"You pulled me down here."
"I did."
"My parents are still above."
"They are safe."
"You’d better be right."
The old man chuckled.
"You sound like him."
Denzel frowned.
"Like who?"
"Your grandfather."
"Everyone keeps comparing me to him."
"Because you keep behaving like him."
Denzel lowered his dagger slightly.
"Then maybe you should stop giving me reasons to."
The old man smiled.
"Good."
"What?"
"That attitude."
He stepped closer.
"Do you know why I chose your grandfather?"
Denzel shook his head.
"I don’t even know what you chose him for."
The old man stopped.
"The Crown."
Denzel looked around.
"I thought the Crown was something he created."
"It was."
"Then why are you saying you chose him?"
"Because he didn’t create it."
Denzel’s expression hardened.
"That’s not what my parents said."
"They were wrong."
"About my grandfather?"
"About everything."
Denzel stared at him.
"That’s a bold statement."
"The truth usually is."
The old man raised one hand.
The chamber changed.
Images appeared in the air.
Denzel saw his grandfather.
Young.
Twenty-six.
Standing before the seven circles.
But there was something different from the mural.
His grandfather wasn’t alone.
A younger version of the First King stood behind him.
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"You were there."
"Yes."
"You gave him the Crown."
"No."
The old man looked at the image.
"I gave him a choice."
The scene changed.
His grandfather stood in front of seven floating fragments.
Six black.
One silver.
The same fragments Denzel had seen during the trial.
His grandfather reached toward them.
The silver fragment moved first.
Then the others.
They entered his chest.
Denzel stared.
"What happened?"
"He survived."
"That’s it?"
"No."
The old man looked at him.
"He became the first vessel."
Denzel’s expression changed.
"Vessel?"
The old man nodded.
"For what?"
The old man didn’t answer.
Instead, the seven pillars began glowing.
Denzel’s body reacted immediately.
The marks beneath his collarbone burned.
He grabbed his chest.
"Ah—"
The pain lasted only a second.
Then disappeared.
A system notification appeared.
[Royal Authority: 91%.]
Denzel stared.
"What?"
The number changed.
[Royal Authority: 92%.]
The old man smiled.
"You’ve crossed the threshold."
"What threshold?"
"The point at which the Crown can no longer reject you."
Denzel looked at his hands.
"So I’m compatible."
"More than compatible."
The old man stepped closer.
"You are the most compatible bloodline in recorded history."
Denzel frowned.
"Then why did the trial try to kill me?"
"It wasn’t trying to kill you."
"It stabbed me."
"It was testing whether you would surrender."
Denzel looked at him.
"I didn’t."
"No."
The old man smiled.
"That’s why you’re here."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"Why me?"
The old man was silent.
Then he said,
"Because your grandfather failed."
Denzel’s expression hardened.
"Failed at what?"
"Becoming the King."
Denzel stared.
"But he was the first King."
"That is what history calls him."
"And what do you call him?"
The old man looked toward the darkness.
"The first failure."
Denzel didn’t know what to say.
His grandfather had always been spoken about with reverence.
A legendary King.
The strongest person in their family’s history.
The man who created the Crown.
The man who established the Royal Bloodline.
And now this stranger was calling him a failure.
"Why?"
The old man looked at Denzel.
"Because he stopped."
"Stopped what?"
"Evolution."
Denzel frowned.
The old man pointed toward the seven pillars.
"The Crown was never meant to make someone powerful."
Denzel looked at the symbols.
"It was meant to change them."
"Yes."
"Into what?"
The old man smiled.
"Something beyond human."
Denzel’s expression became flat.
"That sounds like a terrible idea."
The old man laughed.
"Your grandfather said the same thing."
Denzel blinked.
"He did?"
"At first."
The old man walked toward the center of the chamber.
"He believed power should remain within human limits."
Denzel followed him.
"Then why create the Crown?"
"Because he wanted to prove he could surpass those limits."
"Contradictory."
"Humans often are."
The old man stopped.
A circular platform appeared beneath his feet.
Seven symbols formed around it.
"Your grandfather entered this chamber."
Denzel looked at the platform.
"He stood where you’re standing."
"What happened?"
"He was given the same choice."
"What choice?"
The old man looked at him.
"Power or humanity."
Denzel frowned.
"And he chose?"
"Both."
"Can you do that?"
"He tried."
The old man smiled.
"He failed."
The seven pillars suddenly went dark.
The chamber became silent.
Then Denzel heard something behind him.
A heartbeat.
BOOM.
He turned.
Nothing.
BOOM.
The sound came again.
This time, the floor vibrated.
Denzel looked toward the old man.
"What is that?"
"The part your grandfather couldn’t control."
Denzel’s grip tightened.
"You said the Crown was inside him."
"It was."
"So what’s left?"
The old man’s expression became serious.
"The Crown isn’t inside him anymore."
Denzel froze.
"Where is it?"
The old man looked at him.
"You."
Denzel’s blood went cold.
"What?"
"The Crown was passed down through your bloodline."
"To my father?"
"No."
"My mother?"
"No."
Denzel’s eyes widened.
"Me?"
The old man nodded.
"Your grandfather didn’t create the Crown."
He pointed toward Denzel’s chest.
"He created you."
Denzel stared at him.
"No."
"Your birth wasn’t natural."
Denzel took a step backward.
"Don’t."
"The seven marks appeared before you were born."
Denzel shook his head.
"Stop."
"Your parents didn’t know what they were carrying."
Denzel’s breathing became heavier.
"The Crown was already inside you."
"No."
"Your grandfather transferred the final fragment before he died."
Denzel’s hand went to his chest.
The silver fragment.
The one piece that had always behaved differently.
The one that had responded to him.
The one that had entered the chamber when he was in danger.
His eyes widened.
"The silver fragment."
The old man nodded.
"That is the part your grandfather couldn’t destroy."
Denzel stared at him.
"Why would he give it to me?"
"He didn’t have a choice."
"Why?"
"Because the Crown had already chosen you."
Denzel looked down.
The seven marks beneath his collarbone began glowing.
One.
Then two.
Then three.
The old man’s expression changed.
"Interesting."
Denzel looked at him.
"What?"
"You’re awakening faster than expected."
"That sounds bad."
"It is."
The fourth mark illuminated.
Then the fifth.
Denzel felt power moving through his body.
Not painful.
Not exactly.
It felt like something inside him was unfolding.
The sixth mark appeared.
The old man stepped backward.
For the first time, he looked uncertain.
Denzel noticed.
"What?"
He didn’t answer.
The seventh mark began glowing.
The chamber shook.
The old man’s face changed completely.
"No."
Denzel looked at him.
"What?"
"Stop."
Denzel frowned.
"You told me to awaken."
"Not like this."
The seventh mark flashed.
A wave of pressure exploded outward.
The pillars cracked.
The old man was thrown backward.
Denzel remained standing.
He stared at his hands.
Silver light covered them.
The system appeared.
[Royal Authority: 100%.]
Denzel’s eyes widened.
[Royal Authority has reached the maximum recorded threshold.]
[New Authority State detected.]
[Royal Authority: ???]
[Warning.]
[Authority classification unavailable.]
Denzel stared at the notification.
"What does that mean?"
The old man slowly stood.
His expression was no longer calm.
He looked afraid.
"You’re not supposed to reach that level."
Denzel looked at him.
"Why?"
The old man didn’t answer.
The heartbeat returned.
BOOM.
This time, the sound came from Denzel.
He froze.
BOOM.
His chest moved.
BOOM.
The entire chamber responded.
The seven pillars began rotating.
The symbols changed.
The Crown appeared above them.
Denzel looked up.
The seven fragments were no longer black and silver.
They were all silver.
The old man whispered,
"The Crown has completed itself."
Denzel looked at him.
"And now?"
The old man stared at him.
"Now we find out what your grandfather was so afraid of."
The Crown descended.
It stopped above Denzel’s head.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then a voice spoke.
Not the First King’s.
Not his grandfather’s.
Not the system’s.
Denzel’s own voice.
But deeper.
Older.
"Return."
Denzel’s eyes widened.
The old man dropped to one knee.
Denzel stared at him.
"You know that voice."
The old man lowered his head.
"Yes."
"Who is it?"
He didn’t answer.
Denzel stepped closer.
"Who?"
The old man looked up.
His face was pale.
"The original King."
Denzel frowned.
"I thought you were the First King."
"I was."
Denzel’s eyes narrowed.
"Then who is the original?"
The old man smiled bitterly.
"The one before me."
"Your father?"
"No."
"Then who?"
The old man looked toward the Crown.
"The one who created the Royal Bloodline."
Denzel’s stomach tightened.
"That’s my grandfather."
"No."
The old man shook his head.
"Your grandfather was only the second."
Denzel went completely still.
"Second?"
The old man nodded.
"There was another before him."
The chamber shook again.
The voice returned.
"Come home."
Denzel looked toward the darkness.
Something was approaching.
Slowly.
A figure emerged.
Denzel’s breath caught.
The man looked exactly like him.
Same face.
Same eyes.
Same scars.
But older.
Much older.
He wore the Crown.
The old man bowed his head.
Denzel stared.
The figure smiled.
"Hello, Denzel."
Denzel raised his dagger.
"Who are you?"
The figure’s smile widened.
"I’ve been waiting for you."
Denzel’s system appeared one final time.
[Royal Ancestral Presence Detected.]
[Identity: Unknown.]
[Relationship to Host: Direct.]
[Warning.]
[Do not engage.]
Denzel stared at the final line.
Then at the man.
The man laughed.
"You still listen to that thing?"
Denzel’s expression changed.
"You know the system."
The man’s eyes narrowed.
"Of course."
He took one step forward.
"I created it."