"Don't you want to live long enough to see my reforms succeed, to witness Gai dominate the Imer Plains and become the strongest nation?" Muria asked, his tone laced with temptation, as he looked at the frail and aging Fernand.
"You don't understand the pain I've endured," Fernand replied, closing his weary eyes.
As a capable and ambitious king with grand aspirations, Fernand certainly wanted to see his nation rise to unparalleled power. However, his body simply could not hold out any longer.
"If I could eliminate the pain you're enduring, would you be willing to continue living?" Muria pressed, his eyes focused on his father.
"What are you planning?" Fernand asked, his voice heavy with exhaustion. The energy that had sustained him as the King's Seal was removed was quickly draining away. He was now like a flickering candle in the wind, on the verge of extinguishing.
"Have my three teachers told you about my newfound powers? Powers that allow me to control death itself," Muria said as dark mist began to swirl around his body, emanating a chilling and deathly aura.
"I've heard of it," Fernand admitted, watching as Muria's figure shifted, transforming into an amorphous, swirling mass of black mist. Within the mist, two crimson eyes emerged, glowing ominously.
"I can let you continue to exist in this world as one of the dead."
Muria extended a tendril of black mist, which condensed into a tall, violet-skinned corpse servant before Fernand's eyes. The corpse servant's crimson eyes glowed as it knelt on one knee before Muria, showing complete submission and loyalty.
"If this is your idea of letting me continue living, then I refuse. I have no desire to kneel before my own son," Fernand said without hesitation, barely sparing the corpse servant a glance.
As a king, Fernand had his pride. Though he cherished life, he did not fear death. He would rather embrace the end with dignity than become a subordinate—even to his own child.
"You misunderstand. After transforming into this state, you'll only feel a slight sense of suppression in my presence, but you'll retain your autonomy," Muria explained, his tone calm and persuasive.
"…"
"Why not give it a try?" Muria asked, probing cautiously, sensing that Fernand was hesitating.
"…"
Fernand remained silent, but Muria could tell his father was wavering.
"If it doesn't work out, you can return to eternal rest. No matter what, you are my father, and I will always respect your choice," Muria said, his voice steady and unwavering.
Black mist surged toward Fernand, who sat slumped on the throne, his emaciated body barely clinging to life. The mist enveloped him, its cold tendrils seeping into his body.
In the absence of any remaining vitality, the black mist began to transform Fernand's body almost immediately. His eyes turned crimson as the last remnants of life within him were extinguished.
Within a breath's time, Fernand had completed his transformation into a corpse servant. The process was quicker than usual, given his near-death state.
"This… this feels surprisingly good," Fernand said, rising from the throne and stretching his limbs. His once frail body now moved with newfound strength, free from pain or weakness.
"Wait, it's not over yet," Muria interrupted.
"What else?" Fernand, now a corpse servant with a deep, raspy voice that carried an eerie undertone, asked with mild curiosity.
"I'm giving you power," Muria said as he floated closer. More of the swirling black mist that composed his ghostly form began to pour into Fernand.
As the mist flowed into him, Fernand's body began to swell, growing larger and more imposing. His muscles bulged, and his stature increased, giving him a monstrous, demonic appearance.
Even the residual energy from the King's Seal, which had lingered within Fernand, seemed to reignite. But now, it burned with a deathly, fiery aura, vastly different from before.
Fernand had transformed completely. He now resembled a Yama demon, standing twenty meters tall with jet-black skin, horns curling from his forehead, and dark, tattered wings sprouting from his back. His body radiated death and destruction.
"You've given me all this power… Won't it weaken you?" Fernand asked, looking down at his son. Despite his monstrous transformation, a trace of concern lingered in his voice. He understood Muria's potential and did not wish to become a burden.
"It's fine. This power doesn't matter much to me. The ghostly form I used to give you this energy is far weaker than my Yama form. Besides, you'll make better use of it than I ever could," Muria replied, his tone indifferent. His spectral form, now almost transparent, continued to release tendrils of dark energy.
"Take this as well," Muria said as more black mist spilled from him. When it touched the ground, the mist condensed into a horde of corpse servants, each one tall, hulking, and exuding an insatiable hunger for flesh and blood.
"This… was all part of your plan, wasn't it?" Fernand asked, gazing at the sea of corpse servants that now filled the grand hall. For the first time, he felt as though he'd been outmaneuvered by his own son.
"Yes," Muria admitted openly. "When I sensed the state of your life force, I made this decision."
"You wouldn't even let a dying old man go… You're truly ruthless," Fernand said, baring his teeth in what could only be described as a grotesque grin.
"Ruthless? Don't you want to keep living?" Muria retorted, his crimson eyes gleaming.
"Living? You call this living?" Fernand gestured to his monstrous new form, clearly dissatisfied.
"It's better than eternal oblivion."
"Fair enough. These corpse servants aren't fit to see the light of day, so you're making me your shadow—a tool to handle your dirty work," Fernand said, his tone laced with sarcasm.
"I never said that," Muria replied, feigning innocence.
"Black-hearted and thick-skinned… You're well-suited to be a king. A soft-hearted ruler would only drag a nation into ruin," Fernand said, his tone shifting to one of grudging admiration. "Fine. From now on, I'll be your shadow, your blade. I'll help you carry out your reforms and eliminate any obstacles in your way."
"You're still my father," Muria said lightly.
"Spare me the sentiment," Fernand scoffed, waving a clawed hand dismissively. Their blood connection was undeniable, but any familial affection between them was almost nonexistent.
"Now, go and absorb the King's Seal," Fernand urged.
"Got it."
Muria's black mist form collapsed inward, condensing into his youthful human appearance. Flames erupted around him as he transformed into his Yama form, exuding a terrifying pressure that even Fernand found unsettling.
Floating in the air, Muria extended a clawed hand and grasped the glowing black-and-red crystalline core of the King's Seal.
To Fernand's shock, Muria devoured the entirety of the Seal's power with ease. His body expanded slightly as the absorbed energy integrated into him.
"That's it?" Fernand asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"What else?" Muria replied, his tone calm as if the feat were nothing special.
"Nothing," Fernand muttered, lowering his gaze. He couldn't help but feel a pang of inadequacy as he recalled his own grueling struggle to absorb the Seal's power.
…
And so, the new king ascended while the old king vanished from sight. The transfer of power in Gai was swift and seamless, leaving many citizens and nobles alike bewildered.
However, traditions were traditions. In Gai, the rise of a new king always heralded the silent departure of the old one. It was a deeply rooted custom—kings would rather disappear from public view than let their subjects witness their decline.
Yet, unbeknownst to all, this generation's old king had not truly disappeared. Transformed into a shadowy existence, Fernand continued to watch over Gai, his monstrous form hidden in the darkness.
As the nobles of Gai adjusted to their young new king, they were blindsided once more—this king was not content to merely rule.
He was about to reshape the very fabric of the kingdom with sweeping reforms. Laws were rewritten, institutions overhauled, and the blade of royal authority turned against the privileges of the nobility.
Threatened and cornered, the nobles began to resist…
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