Chapter 513: What is the purpose?
Julian smirked, running a hand through his hair as he took it all in. So this is what it looks like, he thought, when people are starving, not for food, but for seed.
The corner of his lip curled higher.
He stepped away from the window and dropped onto his bed, taking a deep breath.
"I wonder what Eleanor, Regina, Isabel... and the others are doing," Julian murmured, his gaze drifting back up to the ceiling. It had been ages since he last felt their presence, ages since their voices or whispers had reached him.
The thought left a bitterness in his chest.
He had tried—again and again—to reach for that connection, to open the path that tied him to the inner world. Yet every attempt ended the same way: with that fragile thread almost snapping.
It was maddening.
Sometimes he could almost hear them—faint echoes of laughter, sighs, even a seductive whisper. Sometimes, just as his mind felt a deeper connection, faces would flicker before him, sharp enough to make his heart stutter... only to dissolve like mist when he reached for it.
Why?
The question gnawed at him.
Why had all this happened—and why so suddenly?
One moment he had been nothing more than prey, fated to fall by the hands of Death himself... and the next, he was here. Not as himself, but as a shell—wearing the flesh of a young cursed boy whose destiny was tied to despair.
Why?
Why was he given this second life?
Through this vessel, he had come to learn of things his old self could never have imagined. That beyond the petty borders of the Ares Kingdom, beyond the conflict between the kingdoms, there existed a world vast and endless. A world where true gods walked openly. A world the villagers called Heaven.
The very thought of it made his existence feel small. Heaven wasn’t just a story to lull children to sleep—it was real. And if Heaven was real, then what else was?
There also were "families", not divine but nearly indistinguishable from gods themselves. Bloodlines so ancient and so powerful that their strength rivaled the very beings the world worshipped.
If the gods ruled from above, then these families ruled from the shadows.
It was all too much. Too big. Too grand for someone who, only days ago, thought about conquering the Ares Kingdom and nothing more.
Julian turned to his side. His eyes stared into the shadows of the table at the corner, but his mind was far away.
What is my role in this?
His body, his desires, his lust—they all felt secondary compared to this growing question.
No... no, that wasn’t the right question, was it?
He froze mid-thought, the pieces clicking together.
Not "what"... but who.
Who was using him?
Whose pawn had he become now?
Was it these so called families? Or was it the Almighty of Death itself, weaving another cruel trick for some twisted amusement?
Or...
Or was it something even higher, something he hadn’t yet glimpsed?
A hand he couldn’t see, moving him across a board far too vast to comprehend.
A bitter smirk twitched onto his lips.
"Pawn," he muttered aloud, as though mocking himself. The word tasted foul. Yet he couldn’t deny it. No matter how cocky he acted, no matter how much pleasure he devoured, somewhere deep inside... he knew. His steps were not his own.
He exhaled slowly, shutting his eyes, sinking into the silence of the room.
But his mind wouldn’t rest.
Pawn or not... I’ll break the board, he thought, his lips curving into a shadowed grin. And when I do... let’s see who’s really holding the strings.
But then a thought played in his mind.
Is the system really gone as well... or is it still here somewhere, hidden?
The system was more than just a tool, it had always been his mentor.
Julian smiled, remembering the strange comfort of those voices and prompts flashing before his eyes.
But over time, as he grew stronger, the system’s voice dimmed. It no longer rang as often in his head. No more rewards dropping in his lap.
It was as if the system had quietly stepped back, forcing him to walk without its hand.
And after that night with the encounter with Death—it was gone. Not just silent.
Completely faded from his being.
What actually happened?
...
Knock. Knock.
The sound pulled Julian out of his spiraling thoughts. He sat up slowly on the bed, stretching his arms over his head.
"So... he finally came."
Raising his voice just enough to be heard through the door, he added, "Come in."
The handle rattled, and with a click the door eased open.
As Julian expected, it was Kain.
The man stepped inside with heavy caution, quickly shutting the door behind him. His eyes darted across the room before finally landing on Julian.
"Father," Julian greeted with a smirk. "You are here early.."
Kain laughed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Of course. Have you not seen the commotion outside? It’s like a war out there."
He chuckled again, walking toward the window. From where he stood, he could see groups of women gathering and gossiping, their voices audible even through the walls of the house.
Turning back, Kain added, "Since you’re not the boy of prophecy and have the weakest seed, the elder seems to be testing you. She has assigned only one woman to you... while Allen and I have been given ten each."
Julian arched a brow, his smirk widening. "Only one, hmm? That’s almost insulting. Tell me, Father—who is this woman?"
Kain shook his head, his smile fading into a thoughtful frown. "I’m not sure. Her name is Erica, but I don’t recall hearing it before. Then again..." He gave a dry laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "With my age, my memory has gone to shit."
Julian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Erica, you say... How curious. A name you never heard before."