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CHRONOS MAIN PALACE – PATRIARCH'S CHAMBER
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Zenox Chronos—the man who built the current Chronos supremacy—sat alone on his throne of Alphondre, the rarest metal in all of Celestia. His overwhelming power and ruthless decisiveness made him both feared and revered. To him, the honor of the Chronos name was absolute—untouchable.
And that was why he disowned his own son.
A talentless heir was a stain he could not tolerate.
A stain he could not erase.
No matter how many times he revisited the memory, Zenox still struggled to accept it. How could his son—a son of Chronos—carry the lowest talent grade in existence? True, talent wasn't purely hereditary, but lineage always played some part.
Yet the boy was born… E-rank.
Zenox exhaled heavily, lost in the maze of his frustration.
Footsteps echoed across the chamber. A breathtaking woman entered—long black hair cascading like liquid night, eyes as deep and unfathomable as an abyss. Her beauty contrasted strikingly with Zenox's dark-grey hair and eyes.
A rare softness touched his expression.
This woman was Anabella Chronos, his wife—and one of the most powerful beings in the world.
"Dear," she called gently, her voice warm enough to melt steel.
Zenox nodded faintly in greeting.
"You seem troubled, husband," she asked, concern touching her tone.
The moment she spoke, his faint smile disappeared, replaced by a solemn look.
"The Spirit Mark Ceremony draws closer," Zenox said gravely. "Only three years remain. We need an ancestral spirit's blessing. If Zera wants to dominate the heirs of all thirteen families, she must receive the ancestral spirit mark."
Anabella smiled softly.
"Do not worry. Zera has always been extraordinary—her talent surpasses even yours. If she cannot receive the ancestral mark, then no one can."
Her reassurance worked; a sliver of relief appeared in Zenox's eyes.
"Yes… Zera has always been exceptional. That girl won't stop until she becomes the best of the best," he said, recalling his daughter's stubborn brilliance.
As if remembering something, Anabella asked, "When will Zelene return?"
The mention of his younger sister darkened Zenox's expression. Their relationship had fractured deeply after that incident.
"I don't know," he said quietly. "She won't come to me anytime soon."
Anabella knew the full story of that day, so she didn't press the matter.
Instead, her gaze drifted toward the farthest outskirts of the palace—the area where the exiled child lived. Her expression clouded.
Zenox noticed. His own eyes followed hers, landing on that same distant sector.
His calm shattered.
"Are you thinking of that cripple again?" he snapped. "He is the reason I'm mocked by those old fossils! We have only one child—Zera."
Anabella lowered her head, saying nothing.
She too had been disappointed by her son's talent… but unlike Zenox, she couldn't escape the lingering guilt.
She had abandoned her own child.
She hadn't seen him since the day he was born.
Sometimes she gathered the courage to visit him, to look at him—just once.
But she could never bring herself to accept the boy.
Maybe this is simply his fate, Anabella thought bitterly. I only hope he finds a life—any life—away from this family someday.
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