THE VILLAIN'S POV

Chapter 947: Heir to the First Writer

Frey’s life changed completely after submitting to his mother.

While Agaroth prepared to descend upon an increasingly darker path, Frey found himself about to walk an entirely different one.

A path Clea had drawn for him.

From the day he lost to her, he became almost like a puppet suspended by invisible strings.

And Clea was the one holding them.

She personally took charge of his training, teaching him everything about the Council, the Writers...

And the Mist Lords.

In truth, following Clea’s guidance wasn’t entirely terrible.

Frey’s strength steadily increased, and his understanding of Aether deepened with every passing day.

But strength was far from the only thing that changed.

The First Writer was an existence standing at the very summit of the power hierarchy within the Aether World.

Her presence alone had kept the Council stable despite its endless war against the Mist Lords.

Yet her abilities extended far beyond what she revealed publicly.

Destruction and devastation were not the only things she excelled at.

There was a strange sorcery hidden within those peculiar eyes of hers.

A bizarre influence that manipulated those around her...

Gradually altering something within their very souls.

There was no evidence that such an ability truly existed.

No historical record had ever mentioned the First Writer possessing a power capable of controlling minds or manipulating souls.

But after spending most of his childhood following in her footsteps, Frey was almost certain she possessed something of that nature.

’Mother’s voice is peculiar.’

’There’s a strange magic within it that numbs the senses... something that gradually makes those around her act according to her wishes.’

That was the conclusion Frey reached after watching Clea guide the Council toward decisions that suited her interests.

The Council members were among the oldest Writers still alive.

Each possessed tremendous power and authority of their own.

Yet Clea manipulated all of them.

Frey concluded that whatever this ability was, it required time to work effectively.

The longer someone remained exposed to her, the stronger her influence became.

That was precisely why Frey had spent so much of his life avoiding his mother and chosen the Land of Survival as his sanctuary.

But now, he was forced to remain at her side.

He had no choice but to stay vigilant at all times, reinforcing both his mind and body with Aether in the hope that whatever enchantment she possessed would fail to take hold of him.

At the same time, Frey learned how to properly wield his Rune and draw out its full potential.

He also learned methods for expanding the amount of Aether he possessed.

And gradually, he became privy to many of the Council’s secrets...

Including the true nature of the relationship between the Writers and the Mist Lords.

Then one day, Clea took him to the deepest point within the Council.

There, for the first time...

She showed him their greatest weapon.

"The Council members refuse to call it a weapon."

"They prefer to describe it as the tool that brings forth life."

Clea’s gaze settled upon the object in her hand.

"I disagree."

"This is undoubtedly a weapon."

Held within the First Writer’s right hand was the Tool of Creation.

The most powerful artifact in the world.

It was a long, magnificent staff, its overall structure bearing some resemblance to the Caduceus of Hermes, though its design was far more sinister and infinitely more intricate.

Most striking of all were the dozens of ancient Runes engraved across its golden surface.

At its upper end were seven open maws belonging to seven ancient mythical creatures that no longer existed in the present age.

Some resembled dragons.

Others looked more like serpents.

And the rest belonged to mysterious creatures whose forms were unlike anything Frey recognized.

Within each of those seven maws rested a violet gemstone radiating brilliant light.

According to Clea, those seven gems represented the seven most powerful Runic abilities contained within the Tool.

Her own Rune...

Was one of the seven.

The Tool of Creation had been passed down from one generation to the next, entrusted exclusively to those who inherited the title of First Writer.

Before passing it on, each predecessor would place the power of their own Rune within the staff, further increasing its strength and magnificence.

By the time the Tool reached Clea...

It already contained an enormous number of terrifying abilities.

Its power had become overwhelming.

It wasn’t merely an extraordinarily powerful staff or artifact.

It was the source behind much of the power that had kept the Writers at the summit of the world for countless years.

Its power sustained the Council.

It sustained the Writers’ Library of Worlds.

And it provided them with a seemingly inexhaustible source of energy.

The Tool of Creation was also what the Mist Lords coveted more than anything else.

The very creatures who stood as the antithesis of the Writers.

The Mist Lords were incapable of using Aether.

Their power came entirely from Aura.

The Writers, meanwhile, were masters of Aether.

Unlike the Mist Lords, however, they were also capable of wielding Aura, even if they could never match the Mist Lords in proficiency.

But everything would change if the Tool of Creation ever fell into the Mist Lords’ hands.

Because the Tool would grant them the ability to wield Aether.

And if those monsters of Aura ever gained control over Aether as well...

Clea was certain the balance would collapse entirely.

The Writers would never be able to stand against them again.

Especially not against Oden...

The Pale Devastation.

Oden was already considered such a catastrophic existence that even Clea herself wasn’t certain she could defeat him.

If a creature like that ever gained the ability to wield Aether...

No one would even dream of touching him.

"That is why the Tool of Creation must never fall into the hands of the Mist Lords."

After explaining the truth behind their obsession with it, Clea returned the Tool of Creation to its resting place within the deepest reaches of the Council.

"The situation is more dangerous than I thought."

Frey frowned.

"No matter how heavily protected it is, this is still a physical artifact. Something tangible can always be stolen."

The possibility of disaster suddenly seemed frighteningly simple.

Even if they concealed the Tool in the deepest and most secure location imaginable...

One of the Mist Lords could still find some way to steal it one day.

Fortunately...

Things weren’t quite that simple.

"Even if they took it, they wouldn’t be able to use it."

Clea’s response revealed another crucial truth.

"The Tool of Creation can only be used by the individual chosen to possess it."

She opened her palm.

A unique Rune was engraved upon her hand.

A Rune that served as a key.

Without it, none of the Tool’s abilities could ever be activated.

Without its key...

The Tool of Creation was practically useless.

"If they wished to use it, they would first have to kill the bearer of the key."

Clea closed her hand.

"In other words, they would have to kill me... or somehow sever the connection between me and the Tool of Creation."

"And that is something I will never allow."

The First Writer herself was the ultimate safeguard placed upon the most powerful weapon in existence.

No one could truly wield it without first going through her.

And there was no stronger protection than that.

"Whoever created this Tool wasn’t a fool."

"They anticipated the possibility of it being stolen and prepared countermeasures in advance."

That was why the Tool of Creation had never once been stolen.

Though the Pale Devastation had come dangerously close to reaching it long ago, during his legendary battle against the Seven Heroes.

"Why... are you telling me all of this?"

Frey finally asked, puzzled by how freely his mother had revealed such closely guarded information.

Clea stared at him in silence for several seconds.

Then she gave him the answer.

"Because one day, you will inherit this Tool."

"So you should know at least this much."

And in that moment...

Frey finally understood.

He wasn’t merely a candidate.

He was the next person destined to bear the title of First Writer.

Clea had already chosen him.

That made him her heir.

The one into whose hands the Tool of Creation would eventually fall.

An overwhelming power...

One Frey had never known what he was supposed to do with.