Lord of the realm

Chapter 176: Nothing matters in the end

"There are infinite realms," Magdalyna said, gesturing to the void around them.

"Infinite worlds where we could exist together. Places where your power would make you a god rather than a threat. Where no one would hunt you or fear you."

She reached out, her hand stopping just short of touching his face.

"I could show you wonders beyond imagination. Teach you things that would make your current abilities seem like parlor tricks. We could have eternity together, exploring realities that mortals can’t even conceive of."

Jaenor studied her carefully. There was genuine emotion in her voice and genuine feeling in her eyes. This wasn’t manipulation—or not entirely. She meant what she was saying.

But.

"My grandmother is here," he said quietly.

"Morgana. Rena, Taeryn, and Darian. Everyone I care about. You’re asking me to abandon them."

"They’ll die eventually," Magdalyna said, and though her tone was gentle, the words were brutal. "Mortals do. Even with all your power, you can’t change that. But I’m offering you eternity. A life that extends beyond the brief span your friends will have."

"They’re not just friends," Jaenor said, and now steel entered his voice.

"They’re family. They stayed with me when they had every reason to run. Protected me when it put them in danger. Believed in me when everyone else saw only a cursed bloodline."

He shook his head.

"I won’t abandon them. Not for power, not for safety, not for eternity. If those things come at the cost of losing the people I love, I don’t want them."

Magdalyna’s expression flickered—disappointment, frustration, but also something like respect.

"You’re stubborn. Just like your ancestors. That bloodline carries many curses, but determination isn’t one of them—that’s purely you."

"Then you understand," Jaenor said.

"I’m staying. Fighting whatever comes. Protecting what matters to me."

"Even if it kills you?" Magdalyna asked.

"Even if the Seven Sins claim you, use you as a vessel for their daemon ruler? Even if the Covens succeed in their next assassination attempt?"

But he didn’t delve into the topic, not right now.

"Even then," Jaenor said firmly.

"Because running might keep me alive, but it wouldn’t be living. It’d just be existing. And I want more than that."

For a long moment, they stood in silence on that impossible pillar, surrounded by infinite void.

Then Magdalyna smiled—sad but genuine.

"You’re not the boy I knew anymore, are you? The frightened child trying to understand his power, desperate for someone to tell him what to do."

"No," Jaenor agreed.

"I’m not."

Something changed in his eyes. They blazed brighter—gold and crimson mixing with deeper colors, power rising to the surface. When he spoke again, his voice carried harmonics that shouldn’t exist, layered in ways that suggested multiple realities converging.

"I’ve become something else. Something more."

The void around them shuddered.

Jaenor raised one hand, and reality responded. The darkness wasn’t empty anymore—it was full of potential, of possibilities waiting to be shaped. And he was shaping them, bending this space between places to his will.

"You brought me here thinking you could convince me," Jaenor said, and now his voice was fully layered, multiple versions of himself speaking in perfect synchronization.

"Thinking that showing me other options would make me doubt my choices. But you miscalculated."

The pillar beneath them cracked.

Not from instability, but because Jaenor was rewriting the rules that held this space together.

"I’m not afraid anymore. Not of the Seven Sins, not of the Covens, not of what I might become. I’ve accepted my power. Embraced it. And now—"

The void shattered.

Like glass breaking in all directions simultaneously, the darkness fractured into infinite pieces. Light poured through the cracks—not normal light but pure energy, the fundamental force that preceded creation itself.

Magdalyna stepped back, and for the first time in millennia, she felt something close to fear.

This boy had touched something beyond her understanding.

Not quite Ascendant—not yet—but closer than any mortal should be able to reach. He’d found a path between human and divine, and he was walking it with a certainty she hadn’t expected.

"—now I make my own choices," Jaenor finished.

The shattering reality collapsed inward, pulling both of them back toward their actual bodies, toward the real world where physics still functioned and mortality still mattered.

But as they separated, as Magdalyna returned to whatever realm she truly inhabited and Jaenor fell back toward his physical form, she heard his final words echo through the breaking space.

"Thank you for the offer. But I’m exactly where I need to be."

-

Jaenor’s eyes snapped open.

He was sitting in his meditation pose, legs crossed, back straight, hands resting on his knees. His room was exactly as he remembered—modest but comfortable, with a large bed he hadn’t used, a wardrobe containing clothes he hadn’t worn, and windows showing morning sunlight streaming across vineyard hills.

He looked around, the dark space in which he had been just before was completely erased.

Jaenor didn’t think that she would contact him in such a way, and then a hint of painful expression crossed his face thinking about her.

He shook his head, thinking straight.

How long had he been in a trance? Days? Weeks? Time had become meaningless while he worked to stabilize his merged power, to integrate the changes his transformation had forced upon him.

But now it was done.

He could feel it—the unified energy flowing through channels that had finally adapted, power that responded to his will rather than threatening to overwhelm him.

He stood, testing his body.

Everything worked properly, though he felt different. Lighter somehow, despite the tremendous power coiled within him. More aware of his surroundings, as if his senses had been sharpened to perceive things he’d previously missed.

His stomach growled, reminding him that however transcendent his recent experiences, his body still had basic needs.

Food.

He needed food immediately.

Jaenor moved to the door, opening it and stepping into the hallway beyond. The estate was quiet at this hour—early morning, with most of the household just beginning their daily routines. He could hear distant sounds from the kitchens and smell cooking food that made his hunger intensify.

He followed the scents toward the main dining hall, a large room on the ground floor where family and important guests took meals. As he approached, he heard voices—familiar ones, talking quietly over breakfast.

Jaenor pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The room was beautiful in a comfortable way.

A long table of polished wood dominated the center, surrounded by cushioned chairs. Windows along one wall showed the vineyard stretching toward distant hills. Morning light made everything glow with warm colors.

And at the table sat everyone who mattered to him.

Morgana was there, looking more rested than when he’d last seen her. Rena sat beside her, mid-bite of toast. Taeryn was loading his plate with eggs and meat. Darian sat with military straightness despite the casual setting. Baren nursed a cup of something hot, probably tea. Raelana was engaged in quiet conversation with Emmanuelle, who occupied the head of the table.

They all looked up as he entered, and for a heartbeat, everyone froze.

Then Jaenor smiled—genuine and warm—and spoke.

"Did you miss me?"

The room exploded into motion.

Rena knocked her chair over in her haste to reach him, throwing her arms around him in a fierce hug. Taeryn was right behind her, grabbing Jaenor’s shoulder and grinning like an idiot. Morgana stood so fast she nearly upended the table, relief flooding her face.

Even Baren allowed himself a small smile, and Darian nodded approval.

Emmanuelle rose with more dignity, but the emotion in her eyes was no less intense. She approached as the others stepped back slightly and pulled her grandson into an embrace that spoke of weeks of worry finally released.

"You’re awake," she said quietly.

"You’re really awake."

"I am," Jaenor confirmed, returning the hug. "And I’m starving. Whatever’s cooking, I need approximately all of it."

That broke the tension completely. Everyone laughed, the sound releasing stress and fear that had been building for days.

"Sit," Emmanuelle commanded, gesturing to an empty chair.

"I’ll have the kitchen bring everything we have."

As Jaenor sat, as food began appearing in quantities that would have fed a small army, as his friends and family surrounded him with questions and stories and simple joy at his return—he felt something settle in his chest.

This. This was worth protecting. Worth fighting for. Worth rejecting Magdalyna’s offer of eternity in distant realms.

Because this was home.

And he’d defend it with everything he’d become.

-

After the initial chaos of his return—the embraces, the relief, the overwhelming amount of food that Jaenor consumed with the appetite of someone who hadn’t eaten in weeks—the household settled into something approaching normalcy.

The others gradually dispersed to give him space.

Taeryn and Darian went to check the estate’s perimeter defenses, a task they’d been rotating through daily. Baren excused himself to meet with the estate guards, coordinating security measures.