Chapter 20 An Oath with a Severed Finger

The atmosphere in the arena gradually became silent and solemn. The elegance that once characterized Manning had long vanished.

If Lancaster were here, he would have said that this was the same Manning he had spoken to under the moonlight.

Centered around him, an oppressive aura spread, making the very air feel heavy.

The flow of air slowed, the wind turned viscous, and every movement felt uncomfortable.

A man in the audience wiped the sweat off his brow. "Why has it suddenly gotten so hot?"

Zachary, too, shed his usual playful demeanor, now standing with a solemn expression.

"Make your move, Manning!"

Manning glanced at him. "Is this all you're going to do?"

Zachary nodded. "That should suffice."

"Very well, this is your choice!"

Manning brought his hands to his chest, forming an empty sphere, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation.

Gradually, the space between his palms seemed to fill with something, transforming into pure blackness.

That blackness expanded, filling his entire palm, yet not a thread of it escaped beyond his hand.

Dust began to rise from the surroundings, converging toward the arena, forming a yellow dragon that flew toward Manning's palm.

The walls began to crumble and disintegrate, also flying toward that black sphere.

The edges of the arena, carved from solid Bali stone, were torn into fragments by an unknown force, all drawn toward the same direction.

Strangely, despite absorbing so much, the black sphere in Manning's hand remained unchanged in size.

Those sitting in the front row of the audience, watching intently, suddenly found it difficult to breathe.

Something was stealing their oxygen.

Even their bodies were being pulled forward uncontrollably. The railing in front of them had already been uprooted and was spinning in the air.

Terrified, they clung to their seats, but it was futile.

Their chairs, and their very selves, were being rapidly sucked toward the arena, as if caught in a tornado.

"No!"

"Help!"

"Let me go!"

Not just the first row, but the second, and the third rows of spectators suffered the same fate.

The agonizing screams grew louder, but the two figures in the arena remained motionless.

Or rather, their postures hadn't changed at all.

Manning stood with his hands cupped, eyes closed in solemnity.

Zachary, standing casually across from him, was now noticeably shorter; his feet had sunk two or three inches into the ground.

"Hey, why has it suddenly gone dark?"

"Why can't I see anything?"

"Me neither."

More screams erupted as the light in the arena bizarrely vanished, or more accurately, was being absorbed by that black sphere.

Few people remained; most had already been sucked into the blackness or were on their way there.

The elder's pen and paper had scattered across the ground, the last word written on it being "nothing."

"Are you really not going to do anything?" Manning opened his eyes. "At this rate, you'll disappear too."

Sweat dripped from Zachary's hairline. "I didn't expect you to have mastered 'Nothing.'"

As he opened his mouth, blood trickled from his lips.

"I'd advise you not to speak!" Manning smiled faintly.

"Isn't it painful? Like your heart is being torn from your chest? Your limbs feel like they're about to detach? Don't worry, you'll soon be free, reduced to the primordial substance even I can't identify. Isn't that a wonderful experience?"

"Though, I must say, you're quite strong. To endure this close to a level twelve 'Nothing'—impressive, especially for 'someone like you.' But the world is too small. With me here, why do we need you? Rest assured, I'll complete the mission given by Tal."

"Are you so sure of yourself, Manning?" Zachary's lips curled into a strange smile.

"What do you mean?"

Looking down, Manning was horrified to see that Zachary's hair had turned the same dreamlike blue, and in his hand was an identical black sphere.

Manning's face paled. "Are you insane? Colliding two level twelve 'Nothings'? Do you know what will happen?"

"I don't." Zachary shook his head cheerfully. "But it's better than me being reduced to primordial matter alone. Manning, since you find it so fascinating, why don't you experience it yourself?"

"You madman! We'll destroy the entire continent of Stu!"

"So what? Isn't that perfect?"

"What about Lancaster? Don't you care about him anymore?"

"He'll survive. Or maybe, in a world without you or me, he'll live a much happier life." Zachary smiled distantly.

Manning could no longer speak, as he needed to focus all his strength.

The spheres in both their hands grew darker, more profound, and more vast, as if they contained the entire universe.

Manning's hands stretched slightly from the strain.

Yet, the spheres continued to expand, tireless in their growth, as if intent on devouring everything.

I can't hold on any longer, Manning thought, I don't have enough energy left to sustain this.

If everything is to be destroyed, so be it...

At least no one will win...

His vision went black.

"So bright!" Manning wondered, could even primordial matter "see"? He smiled wryly at himself.

"Your Highness, don't sleep, you need to study."

"Your Highness, get up, it's time for sword training."

"Your Highness, no slacking! His Majesty is waiting to test your lessons in the royal study!"

Manning smiled faintly. Yes, this was reality. He had merely been having a nightmare, a terrible dream where everyone abandoned him.

In reality, he was still the beloved prince, with a stern father and a kind mother.

He was always happy, even though he worked hard every day to learn all the knowledge and skills required to rule the kingdom.

Tired, but happily so, because everyone needed him.

"Prince Manning!" "Prince Manning!"

Those simple, smiling faces were his greatest motivation.

"Hey, Manning, are you awake? You were smiling in such a gross way." Something cold slid across Manning's face, and he opened his eyes.

Zachary was using his hair to tickle Manning's face.

He sat up, surprised to find that nothing had changed.

The arena was still intact, and the spectators still filled the stands.

"What happened?"

"You lost to me!" Zachary grinned wickedly.

"But the spectators—weren't they reduced to nothing?"

Zachary crouched down. "At the last moment, I balanced my power with yours. The two 'Nothings' canceled each other out, and everyone returned. I used a Forget-Me-Not Flower, so they remember nothing, including your identity as a darkling."

Manning noticed that his hair had returned to its black color, and so had Zachary's.

"But..."

"No 'buts,' darling. Oh, and by the way, everyone saw me knock you out with lightning, so you lost!" Zachary wagged his finger.

"Kill me." Manning closed his eyes, yearning to return to that beautiful reality and escape this nightmare.

After a long pause, "If you don't kill me, I won't promise I won't go after your queen. He's too naive!" He struck where he knew Zachary would care most.

"Why do you want to die?"

"Because I don't want to live anymore."

Slap. Manning's face bore five red marks from a solid strike.

"Do you think dying will solve everything? I never knew you were such a coward, Manning!" Zachary scolded him fiercely.

"What do you know? You don't understand anything! You were born with everything that should have been mine. Not only can I not fight back, but I must willingly give everything to you. Do you know how painful that is?"

For the first time, Manning stood, visibly agitated.

"No, I don't. But do you think you're the only one who suffers? Cain, Leif, even Lancaster—each of them bears their own tragic fate. No one is truly happy. Neither am I." Zachary's face darkened.

"Do you think having everything makes me happy? I'd throw it all away to get what I truly want. But I can't, because what I want no longer exists. Aren't you better off than me?"

"And besides, only by living can you have a chance. Do you think dying will mean anything? You'll only be handing everything you cherish to someone like me, who doesn't value it at all. Is that what you want, Manning?"

"But..."

"No 'buts.' Even if you've made mistakes, only by staying alive can you have a chance to make things right. If you're not willing to accept this, then fight! Take back everything that's yours. Who cares what the High Priest said—it's all nonsense! The kingdom belongs to those who truly love it. If you believe your love for the divine race rivals mine, then come and take back what's rightfully yours. I'll be waiting for you."

Manning closed his eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Was there anything left to argue about?

In terms of ambition and ability, this man was far above him. It wasonly a matter of time before Zachary replaced him as the true heir, both in title and power.

Manning's shoulders trembled. His mind, once clear and cold, now felt like a stormy sea. He didn't know what to do anymore. He wanted to scream, to unleash all his frustration and pain. But the person before him wouldn't allow it.

"I'll take your silence as agreement," Zachary said, standing up. His expression softened as he placed a hand on Manning's shoulder. "But don't think I'll go easy on you from now on. If you want to defeat me, you'll have to surpass yourself. I'll be waiting for that day, Manning."

Manning opened his eyes, staring blankly at Zachary's outstretched hand. He hesitated for a moment but eventually grasped it firmly. His grip was weak, but it was enough.

"You're still my rival," Zachary grinned, pulling him to his feet. "Don't forget that. I'm not someone who'll let you sulk forever. The next time we fight, give me a reason to take you seriously."

Manning nodded slightly, though his heart remained heavy.

Zachary's voice softened, almost too quiet to hear. "And Manning, no more talk of death. You've still got people who care about you. Don't throw that away."

With that, Zachary turned and walked toward the exit of the arena, leaving Manning standing alone, his mind swirling with unresolved emotions. He looked down at his hands, still trembling from the intense fight. The marks from the black sphere were fading, but his heart felt as though it had been branded forever.

He clenched his fists, looking up at the sky above the arena, where the stars were beginning to show through the twilight. Maybe Zachary was right. Maybe living on and trying again was the only real choice. Even if he had lost everything, even if the path ahead was full of more pain—at least it would still be his choice to walk it.

Manning's fingers brushed against the sword at his waist, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the desire to keep moving forward. He wasn't sure where this new path would lead, but at least now he could see it.

"An oath with a severed finger," he muttered under his breath, thinking of the sacrifices made today. "I suppose it wasn't all for nothing."