Felix frowned.

“These wounds aren’t fatal, Your Highness. They’re mostly external injuries. I suggest you stop talking and focus on recovery.”

Theresa gave him a faint, gentle smile. “Thank you, Felix… truly. I’m deeply grateful that you appeared in my life—that you’ve led the Sarkaz forward. Felix, I beg you… become the King of the Sarkaz.”

W’s jaw dropped. Her face screamed, Him? Seriously, him? Felix blinked in disbelief. “The Sarkaz King… you mean the Crown?”

“You really do know quite a lot, don’t you, Felix?”

Theresa stretched her body slightly, grimacing in pain. Felix guided a medical drone over to tend to her wounds—but some cuts were so deep they exposed bone. It was proof of how ferociously those assassins had fought to their last breath. If such strikes had landed on him instead, even he would’ve been in trouble. He wasn’t a superhero; he could toy with assassins, sure—but if he ever became their true target, he’d be hiding behind a wall of drones rather than playing the hero.

“Tin Man told me,” Felix said simply.

“Ah, it was him.”

“Theresa,” Felix began, lowering his voice, “there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time.”

He thought back to a quest he had left untouched since it first appeared. “I want to know—what exactly is Reversion?”

Theresa seemed surprised. She smiled softly, her voice a calm whisper near his ear. “That is a secret of both the Sarkaz and the Sankta… A story that goes back a very, very long time—to the people known as the Teekaz.”

“The Teekaz were regarded as the original inhabitants of Terra—the first to ever come into contact with Originium. They looked much the same as the Sarkaz do now. The Teekaz called their homeland Kazdel, and they themselves, Teekaz.”

“But war destroyed them. They lost their home, their people scattered, and the name Teekaz vanished into history. Those who survived became what the world now calls the Sarkaz.”

“That is our origin… But in that time of chaos, one branch of the Teekaz encountered something—some force, or phenomenon—and they changed. They became the Sankta.”

“As for what that something was… even I do not know.”

Her voice faded. The Arts she had been using to speak only to Felix dissolved. She gave him one last gentle smile before trying to stand. “I’m sorry, W. Could I trouble you to assist the others for now?”

“Don’t say that, Your Highness! I’ll go and be right back! Felix—please, I’m begging you, save her!”

For once, Felix said nothing. W’s eyes reddened immediately. She stared at him, trembling, before looking back at Theresa.

Her Highness was still bleeding, her strength waning. Though she kept smiling, her breathing was shallow—her life ebbing away little by little.

W grabbed Felix by the collar, baring her small fangs as tears fell freely to the floor. Her voice cracked with grief and fury. “If Her Highness dies… I’ll never forgive you for the rest of my life—”

Before she could finish, she shoved him away and ran off through the hole Jesselton had made, wiping her tears as she went. She still had her own battlefield to fight.

Felix crouched down beside Theresa. “I have cryostasis technology from the civilization before this one,” he said quietly. “No matter what you say, I’m going to use it—”

“—Amiya!”

The sudden shout snapped his head toward the doorway. His fists clenched.

The Doctor stood there, panting, eyes wide with worry. Upon seeing Amiya safe, their expression eased—just slightly.

“…Doctor,” Theresa said softly, sorrow touching her smile. “Why must you come here?”

“…”

“I can feel your emotions,” she whispered. “I’ve seen your past.”

“But you could have stayed away—waited quietly for my death. You know this time, I won’t run. I won’t retreat.”

“Did you come for Amiya? Or was it… something else?”

The Doctor said nothing. Whether they couldn’t answer, or simply chose not to, Felix couldn’t tell. Behind them, another wave of assassins poured in like a black tide.

Felix gently took Theresa’s hand, lifting her onto his lap. “Thank you, Theresa. For everything you’ve done. From here on… let me handle the rest.”

“Mm.”

She smiled faintly.

[S-Rank Quest Unlocked: Reversion]

[Quest Details: You have learned from Theresa that the Sankta and Sarkaz once shared the same origin. The Sankta became what they are today after encountering something unknown.]

[Objective: Investigate the cause of the Fall and the possibility of Reversion.]

[Reward: Gain racial evolution trait — Teekaz: Heaven’s Grace.]

Felix gave Jesselton a brief nod. Blue flames flared once more along the twin blades in his hands.

“You’re the Doctor, aren’t you? Think you can take three of my punches?”

Jesselton’s voice was like thunder. “Our Mistress is gravely wounded! I’ll make you pay in blood!”

“Jesselton, deal with the assassins. One punch from you and the Doctor will die instantly,” Felix ordered sharply, his tone cold and restrained.

“Yes, sir!”

Amiya had fallen asleep, her small form resting quietly as she gazed at the ethereal blue flames burning around Felix. With Theresa’s gentle words of comfort, the child’s eyelids finally grew heavy, and she drifted into slumber.

Theresa felt a quiet relief. At least Amiya didn’t see the Doctor’s betrayal… nor the sorrow in her heart.

That black crown—yes, the young man before her was far more worthy of it. Race? No, a Sarkaz King does not care for bloodlines. Smiling faintly, Theresa watched Felix’s back as he stood before her, resolute and unwavering.

The death of the Sarkaz King… that was the Cyclops’ prophecy.

After such betrayal and pain, all she wanted now was a moment of peaceful rest.

“If you truly wish to give it away,” Felix murmured, “then give it to Amiya.”

He turned slightly, his voice steady and calm. “I don’t need the Sarkaz King’s acknowledgment to become a ruler. A true king is not defined by bloodline—bloodline is honored because of the king. I will prove that even as a Sankta, I can lead the Sarkaz… and one day, liberate Kazdel.”

Theresa’s eyes softened. “You’ve really made up your mind, haven’t you?”

“Amiya will need it… in the future,” he replied.

Theresa’s lips curved into a quiet, knowing smile. She finally understood him. Everything Felix had achieved—his power, his influence—had been earned through his own strength and will. No miracle had ever descended upon him; he had fought for everything he possessed.

Her wish to pass the crown to him had only been her way of acknowledging that effort… of granting him the destiny he had long deserved.

But he was too proud, too steadfast. He didn’t need validation. He believed in himself—and in her.

And so, Theresa gently placed the black crown upon Amiya’s head.

Felix exhaled softly in relief. Becoming the Sarkaz King would have brought him great power and prestige in the short term—but in the long run, it would be ruin. The moment he wore that crown, he would become a target of Theresis and the Military Council’s fanatics. To them, a Sankta-born Sarkaz King would be blasphemy itself. The Lateran Tribunal would send assassins to kill him, branding him a heretic and traitor.

No—his plan had always been to advance steadily, not to burn too bright and perish too soon.

Then Theresa stepped toward the Doctor. Her pale hands reached out, gently taking the Doctor’s trembling one. Her voice was low and sorrowful, carrying the weight of years.

“You knew this was futile… and yet, you still tried to cure Amiya’s illness.”

Her words trembled faintly.

“Even though you know that, in the near future, Amiya’s family, her homeland, and everyone tied to her… will all turn into unchanging Originium.”

Felix froze. He saw it—the Doctor’s tears.

“I’m glad,” Theresa whispered, smiling faintly. “I’m glad that the you Kal’tsit believed in—the you who believed in us—is real. You, the creator of Originium… the Doctor. You are both the poison that destroys everything—and the cure that could save it all.”

From the data he’d gathered through his drones, Felix already knew the truth:

It was the Doctor who betrayed Babel.

It was the Doctor who brought the assassins now lying dead on the ground.

It was the Doctor who disabled the defense systems—who invited the wolves inside.

But now, the figure before him—this weeping figure beneath a dark hood—seemed so fragile, so painfully terran, surprisingly is a young woman.

And her words… the creator of Originium?

The revelation struck him like lightning. Originium—the source of both power and plague, the lifeblood and curse of Terra—was created by the Doctor?

White silken threads formed gently around the Doctor, enveloping her trembling body. In moments, her tears were wiped away by Theresa’s tender fingers, and she collapsed, drained of strength.

Theresa knelt beside the Doctor, pulling the hood over the young woman’s face with care before rising to her feet once more.

She smiled.

“You don’t have to die,” Felix said quietly.

Theresa let out a small, tired laugh. “I’m sorry… I was selfish for a moment.”

He stepped forward and caught her as her body began to fall, his arms wrapping around her before she could hit the ground.

“You know I’d never let that happen,” he murmured.

“Forgive me…”

Her voice faded to a whisper. She gazed at Felix’s calm, steady expression and smiled—softly, peacefully—her lips curling ever so slightly as the world around them grew still.

“There are two ways for the Sarkaz King’s legacy to be passed on,” Theresa said softly. “The first is through the King’s death — when the fallen crown is touched, it chooses a new bearer. The second is abdication — when the Sarkaz King willingly passes the crown to another. But for a Sarkaz King… relinquishing the crown weakens them, wounds them, and ultimately leads to death.”

“The moment one accepts the black crown,” she continued, her voice fading, “their fate is already sealed.”

Felix spoke slowly, his tone firm and deliberate. “I have no interest in the throne of the Sarkaz King. The only one I care about… is you, Theresa.”

Theresa’s eyes widened slightly, her rose-colored pupils shimmering with light. Her lips parted as emotion welled within her, and her eyes grew misty.

“There are still so many things I wish to ask you,” Felix murmured, “but I’m afraid… it’s time for you to rest.”

He summoned one of his drones. Suspended beneath it was a sleek, coffin-like device.

“This is a piece of technology I was lucky enough to unearth in the ruins of Kazdel,” he explained quietly. “Perhaps ‘cryogenic chamber’ would be a more accurate term. Rest inside it, Theresa… and when you wake again, I’ll take your hand, and together we’ll see a new Kazdel.”

“…If that day truly comes,” she whispered, smiling faintly, “it would be wonderful.”

She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head gently on his shoulder. “If it’s you, Felix… I believe you can build a better tomorrow.”

“It will be our tomorrow,” he replied.

“…Mm. Thank you.”

Theresa sighed softly. Her hand brushed Amiya’s small head. “Felix… may I ask you for one last favor?”

“I’ll take care of Amiya,” he said without hesitation. “Because… I’m her big brother.”

“Hehe…”

With that small laugh, Theresa closed her eyes, leaning into Felix’s arms. Having relinquished the black crown, her life force and strength had faded drastically. The dizziness from blood loss washed over her, and she simply wanted to sleep—peacefully.

The mark of the Sarkaz King vanished.

Across the world, every Sarkaz—whether in Kazdel, Ursus, or Londinium—felt a pang of grief in their hearts.

The Banshees sang an ancient elegy to bid farewell to Theresa, the gentle Sarkaz King who had led her people toward reform and hope. Some mercenaries stood in silence. Others wept. Most followed the command of their superiors, returning to the Rhodes Island flagship in heavy silence.

—

After handling the immediate matters, Felix exhaled softly. Then he turned toward the figure who had just entered the chamber—Kal’tsit.

Her expression was a storm of emotions. She looked at the corpses of assassins strewn across the floor, the pools of blood, Amiya asleep in Felix’s arms, and the unconscious Doctor lying nearby. Her lips trembled as if she wanted to speak—but no words came out.

Then, a dark shadow darted toward Felix. Before it could reach him, Jesselton stepped forward and intercepted, his augmented body absorbing the dagger strike as though it were nothing. He grabbed the attacker by the throat and lifted her clean off the ground.

“Stop!” Kal’tsit’s voice rang out urgently. Though Babel had secured a pyrrhic victory, she sounded hollow, her strength and spirit drained. “Ascalon—Felix is not the enemy.”

Jesselton snorted and released her. Empowered by his mech suit, he easily overpowered Ascalon; if she wanted to approach Sir, she’d first have to survive three of his punches.

“Kh… cough…”

Ascalon glared at Kal’tsit with a blade-sharp gaze. Kal’tsit pressed her lips together and said quietly, “Rhodes Island’s defense systems have been disabled.”

Ascalon clenched her fists, her jaw tight with fury. She wasn’t a fool—she knew what that meant. Her eyes flicked toward the Doctor’s unconscious form, then back to Felix. A fleeting look of regret passed over her face before she turned and vanished into the shadows.

Felix rose, cradling Amiya in his arms, and walked toward Kal’tsit. She stepped back unconsciously but forced herself to meet his gaze.

“She left with a heavy heart,” Felix said quietly. “After being betrayed by someone she trusted most… she passed the black crown to Amiya.”

“What…?”

Kal’tsit’s eyes fell upon Amiya’s peaceful, sleeping face.

“Her Highness’s body…?”

“It dissolved into light,” he replied.

“…I see.”

Kal’tsit’s entire body trembled. For a moment, it seemed she might collapse. Her voice broke as she looked up at him.

“Thank you—for returning in time to help her.”

Outside the chamber, members of Rhodes Island’s leadership—Scout, Logos, and others—had gathered. The Babel mercenaries Felix brought with him confirmed everything: he had saved them.

But he hadn’t been able to save Theresa. The battlefield itself testified to that—the countless bodies sprawled across the floor.

W sobbed uncontrollably. She believed it was her fault—that her hesitation had slowed Felix down, costing Theresa her life. She clung to him desperately, beating weakly against his shoulders, her tears and snot soaking his clothes. To her, this tragedy was her sin to bear.

Felix said nothing. He simply rested a hand on her head, then gently pried her away, wiping the tears from her cheeks. With Jesselton, Hoederer, and the others, he turned and left the chamber.

The sky had changed. The Sarkaz King had fallen. And Babel’s future… was now uncertain.

Felix tilted his head toward the heavens. A light drizzle began to fall, as if Kazdel itself mourned for Theresa.

“Rest for a while, Your Highness,” he whispered. “From here on… leave everything to me.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep