Chapter – 11 – Royal Void King
Lucien forced himself upward, coughing blood onto the stone floor. His ribs had shattered from the impact—but only for a moment.
“Health Regeneration.”
The skill activated immediately. Bones knitted together. Torn flesh sealed. Bruises faded. Within seconds, he was whole again. He wiped the blood from his mouth and stood, rolling his shoulders to test the healing.
Perfect.
He looked up at his attacker.
The figure was tall—easily seven feet—clad in armor that resembled a dragon made of black iron and crimson scales. His face was young, perhaps thirty-five, but his eyes were ancient. Cold. Unreadable. His body was lean, powerful, and he moved with the fluid grace of someone who had long since transcended the need for wasted motion.
But there was something wrong with his gaze. A hollowness. As if he moved without his own will—and yet, not quite.
Another guardian, Lucien thought. What is the story of this inheritance, anyway?
Then he remembered.
Royal Void King.
The name surfaced from Lucien Vale's memories—fragments from old books, half-remembered legends. The Royal Void King had ruled these lands thousands of years ago. According to the texts, he had existed around thirty-five thousand years ago, a ruler of immense power who had reached the Sixth Realm: the Law-Manifestation Realm.
Some called it the Immortal Realm.
And then, mysteriously, he had died.
His wife had married his disciple shortly after. The histories were vague, contradictory, full of romanticized nonsense about love and loss. But one thing was clear: he had not died of old age. Either he had been killed, or his cultivation had gone catastrophically wrong.
This inheritance dungeon was made by the Royal Void King himself, Lucien realized. He was a Demonic Realm Master—that much is clear. But a master rarely makes an inheritance for a disciple. He teaches them directly. Inheritances are for blood. For sons. For grandsons.
So this dungeon was made for his son. Or his grandson.
And the spirit standing before me… is the Royal Void King himself.
Lucien's mind raced.
The question is: how did he die? What could kill someone in the Sixth Realm when no one was his equal? And why did his wife remarry his disciple?
Betrayal.
Killing a Law-Manifestation Realm master is nearly impossible unless you are on the same level. And if his opponent had been that powerful, history would remember him. So that's not what happened.
Here's what actually happened.
The Royal Void King took a disciple to carry on his teachings. He also had a son—Edward. At the time he built this inheritance, he was not yet king. He was a married man with a child, preparing for the worst. He built this dungeon for his son in case something happened to him.
Later, he became king. His power grew. But something happened to his son—perhaps the boy died, weak and frail. In his grief, he took the disciple into his household, treating him as a replacement for the child he had lost. Because no one teaches their cultivation methods to outsiders unless bound by blood. In extreme cases, they take disciples.
By then, the Royal Void King had reached the Law-Manifestation Realm. He was the strongest of his age. His disciple tried desperately to catch up but only managed to reach the Fourth Realm—the Abyss Core Realm.
And then came the betrayal.
His wife cheated on him with his disciple. A fight broke out. The king nearly killed the disciple—but his wife intervened. She screamed. She begged. The king turned to look at her.
And she stabbed him.
Not with a magical weapon. With a simple dagger. A mortal blade.
But the king's heart and soul could not withstand the betrayal. His soul shattered. His disciple finished the job, stabbing his master from behind while he was already dying.
In his final moments, the Royal Void King realized the truth: his wife's love had been a lie. His disciple's respect had been a lie. His heart felt nothing but emptiness.
Hence the name: Royal Void King.
Even his inheritance was shaped by that emptiness. That is why the spirit before me calls himself that.
For Realm Masters, emotions are everything. They control the soul. When someone close to you wounds you, it can kill you directly—bypassing all physical defenses. That is why a mortal woman's dagger could kill an immortal king.
The bards still sing love songs about the king and his mortal wife. They don't know the truth. They never will.
But I do.
Lucien straightened.
He had healed. He had thought. Now he would act.
He activated Shadow Predator and vanished into the darkness, reappearing behind the Royal Void King with the World Root Spear already in motion.
The king blocked.
Not with magic. Not with Realm power. With skill.
His blade moved in perfect arcs, anticipating Lucien's strikes before they came. For every attack, there was a counter. For every feint, a trap.
Is this the difference between Realms? Lucien thought, barely dodging a slash that would have taken his head. This isn't like the Realm Masters of today, who rely on mana and brute force. This man has actual technique.
He drew the Blood Moon Katana.
The king drew his own—a blade of identical make, darker, older, humming with centuries of accumulated bloodlust. The swords clashed, and Lucien felt the difference immediately. The king's katana was the original. His was a copy. And the original recognized its master.
Fuck.
Everything I have—the katana, the shadow powers, maybe even the World Tree Heart—everything belongs to him. He knows these abilities better than I do. He's been using them for longer than I've been alive.
Was this a mistake? Coming here?
The king pressed his advantage. Lucien retreated, slipping through shadows, dodging, barely surviving.
Whatever I use, he already knows how to counter. And thirty-five thousand years of imprisonment hasn't weakened him—I just released him. He's been using his spirit powers the entire time.
How do I defeat someone who knows all my tricks? Who is better at using them than I am?
Everything I have belongs to him.
He's like a father to me now—
Lucien froze mid-thought.
Wait.
A smile spread across his face. Slow. Villainous.
That might just work.
Lucien let himself get hit.
The king's blade struck his chest—not deep, not fatal, but enough to draw blood. Lucien staggered, dropping to one knee, and activated Regeneration. But this time, as he healed, he did something else.
He poured mana into the World Tree Heart.
Not just healing energy. Aura. The unique signature of the heart itself—a signature that the king had carved into the relic with his own hands thousands of years ago.
The king stopped.
His blade lowered. His ancient eyes widened.
“Where did you get that heart?” he demanded, his voice trembling.
Lucien looked up at him, still on his knee, blood dripping from his lip.
“My father gave it to me,” Lucien said. “I was very weak. Frail. To save me, my father gave me his heart before he died.”
This part of the dungeon—the cave, the greenhouse, the tree—was built first. The upper section, where the World Tree Heart was hidden behind the shadow beast, was built later. The king doesn't know that the heart can be found there.
he calls himself the Royal Void King because that's how the world remembers him. He doesn't know that name was given by his whore wife and her lover. But names have power. If the world remembers you as a coward, you become a coward—even in death.
Now. Let's see if my gamble pays off.
The king's eyes filled with tears.
“Is that you… Edward?”
His guard dropped completely. The blade hung limp at his side.
Lucien's own eyes filled with tears—summoned, practiced, perfect.
“Father?”
“Son.” The king's voice cracked. “It's me. I thought… I thought I wouldn't be able to save you.”
Edward. The son's name. I was right on the mark.
“How is your mother, son?” the king asked.
Lucien lowered his head, letting the tears fall.
“She is still sad. Every day since you left us.” His voice broke—deliberately, beautifully. “I blamed myself. For being born frail. For being the reason you died. That's why I swore I would become the strongest. So I could protect people like you protected me.”
The king stepped forward, his ancient face crumpling with emotion.
“You are truly my son, Edward,” he whispered. “And don't feel guilt. If I sacrificed myself for you, I must have been very happy in my final moments.”
Happy, Lucien thought, screaming with laughter inside his mind. Happy doesn't even begin to describe how you were feeling, you cuckold fool.
A System notification flashed in the corner of his vision. He ignored it.
“Father,” Lucien said, looking up with wide, innocent eyes, “what is this place? Did you leave something here for me? If it can help our people, I want it. Our people need help.”
The king smiled—a sad, broken smile.
“Don't worry, son. You don't have to defeat me to claim your inheritance. I made this spirit only so I could speak with you. Come.”
He led Lucien deeper into the cave, past the greenhouse, into a chamber Lucien had not seen before. At its center floated a red orb, wrapped in sigils like a gyroscope, humming with ancient power.
“Touch it,” the king said.
Lucien reached out.
Pain exploded through his body—not physical, but deeper. Something was being planted inside him. A seed. A beginning.
When it subsided, he was gasping, but whole.
“It's called the Seed of the Celestial Monarch,” the king said proudly. “It allows you to manifest a divine entity—a protector.”
Lucien's smile was radiant.
“Thank you, Father. Now I can help our people. I'll make you proud.”
The king nodded, tears streaming down his ancient face.
“There is something else. Here.” He removed his armor—the draconic black and crimson scales—and held it out. “I made this by slaying an ancient dragon. It will grant you draconic powers and make your body as strong as a dragon's. Take it. You need it more than I do.”
Lucien accepted the armor. It dissolved into his shadow, merging with his being.
The king frowned.
“I should be disappearing now. My purpose is complete.” He looked down at his hands. “But I'm still here.”
“Perhaps fate wants us to spend more time together, Father,” Lucien said, his smile gentle.
The king laughed softly. “Perhaps.”
“Father,” Lucien said, stepping closer, “can I hug you? Before you disappear? I want to feel your warmth again.”
The king's eyes glistened. “Why not, son? Come here.”
They embraced.
The king's arms wrapped around Lucien's shoulders. His hand patted the back of Lucien's golden head.
Then he paused.
“Son,” he said slowly, “why is your hair yellow now?”
Lucien drove the dagger into the king's back.
He twisted.
The king stumbled back, staring at the blade protruding from his chest, then at Lucien's face—which was no longer gentle. No longer tearful. No longer human.
“You… are not my son.”
“Ding dong,” Lucien said, smiling. “Correct answer.”
He laughed—a bright, cold, beautiful sound.
“I never thought the Royal Void King would be so stupid. Hahaha. Your kindness truly kills you every time, doesn't it? First your wife cheated on you with your disciple. You caught them in the act, didn't you? Then she stabbed you in the back. And now…” He spread his arms. “I stab you in the back.”
The king's face was gray with shock.
“If you ever get reborn,” Lucien continued, his voice dripping with contempt, “maybe you should watch your back. I bet your disciple was much better in bed than you. Hahaha.”
The king did not fight back. He did not try to heal. He simply stood there, bleeding spiritual essence, his ancient eyes empty.
He's reliving it, Lucien thought. Thirty-five thousand years ago, when his wife stabbed him. He's frozen.
I need to break him completely. He's a spirit, but he still has a mind. A will.
“When I met your wife,” Lucien said, crouching down to look into the king's face, “she told me you were a loser. Unable to save your own son. Always jealous of your disciple's youth.” He tilted his head. “Too bad you never fixed that. But you were too busy helping others, weren't you? Building villages. Playing king.”
The king's eyes shattered.
Not physically—but something behind them broke. His mental strength. His will to exist.
Lucien saw the exact moment it happened.
“Soul Void.”
Darkness poured from Lucien's chest and wrapped around the dying spirit. The absorption took longer than any before—the king's soul was immense, ancient, powerful. But it was also broken.
And broken things are easier to consume.
The king's memories flooded into Lucien: a lifetime of love, betrayal, agony, and emptiness. The price of Soul Void—feeling everything your victim felt.
Lucien endured it with a smile.
He already knew how cruel the world was. This changed nothing.
[Quest Complete: Death of the Royal Void King]
[Summon Feature Unlocked]
Rewards:
+7000 Soul Points
Health Regeneration evolved → REGENERATOR
Ancient Life Fruit ×1
Lucien examined the skill evolution.
Health Regeneration healed wounds. Regenerator regrows limbs, organs, and physical structures—even the heart, even the brain, as long as the soul remains intact. It's not immortality. But it's close.
He held the Ancient Life Fruit in his palm—a small, golden thing that pulsed with warmth.
Increases one entire Realm.
“Consume.”
Pain. Pleasure. Power. His body screamed and sang simultaneously. Blood leaked from his eyes. His bones elongated and compressed. His organs restructured themselves.
When it was over, he stood in a new body. Stronger. Faster. Deeper.
He checked his status.
STATUS
Name: Lucien Vale
Age: 18
Rank: Semi-Immortal
Artifacts:
The Lost Atlas
World Root Spear
Blood Moon Katana (Cursed)
Draconic Armor
Celestial Monarch (Divine Entity)
Soul Points: 7002
Locked Functions:
Forge
Realm: Late Spirit Forge Realm
Skills:
Shadow Predator
World Cleaver
Regenerator
Lock Manipulation (Mid)
Void Tear
Divine Inspection (Hidden)
Late Spirit Forge Realm, Lucien thought, staring at the screen. One step away from the Fourth Realm—Abyss Core. One step away from the level of Royal Void King's disciple.
And I have 7002 Soul Points. I could spend them now. But I should save them. Dungeon keys. Inheritance fragments. More souls to consume.
This place is obsolete now. But maybe I can use it as a base in the future.
He turned and walked out of the cave, through the greenhouse, down the endless stairs, and out of Whispering Hollow for the last time.
Vale Castle – Lucien's Chamber
Dawn was breaking.
Lucien lay on his bed, still in his bloodstained clothes, staring at the ceiling. The System screens flickered and faded. The new skills hummed in his soul.
Void Tear. Divine Inspection.
These will be useful in the Ancient Breach.
He was about to close his eyes when the knock came.
Loud. Desperate.
“Master Lucien!” Maisy's voice, high with panic. “Please open the door!”
He sat up.
“Miss Aria's life is in danger!”
Author Note:
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