In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

Alfred gazed quietly at Arabella's face, frozen within the ice. Beyond the translucent layers, her expression remained serene—as if time itself had stopped.

Her long lashes were perfectly in place, her lips still curved in a faint, peaceful smile. She was as beautiful as the day she had last drawn breath. And yet, beneath the crystalline prison, her skin had lost all warmth, and the blue magic protecting her was slowly fading with time.

Alfred's calloused hand traced the surface of the ice. The bitter cold stung his fingertips, but he didn't flinch.

In truth, he welcomed it.

That cold—this long solitude, this endless time spent without her—it had become an inseparable part of him, shaking the very foundation of his existence.

He could still see her clearly in his mind—the days of their youth, the time they spent together.

"Alfred! Hurry up! Why are you always so slow?"

In the middle of a sun-drenched field, Arabella ran ahead, her black hair streaming in the wind. She always looked so free, her laughter like the breeze itself.

"Arabella! Just… wait a second… I'm out of breath… I can't run that fast!"

Young Alfred struggled to catch up, gasping for air before collapsing to his knees. He glared up at her, half in frustration, half in admiration.

Arabella only laughed at the sight.

"You're hopeless, Alfred. If you're already like this, how will you keep up with me? I'm going to become a god, you know. Think you can follow?"

Back then, he didn't understand. He thought she was joking.

He never imagined her words would become reality—or that one day, after ascending, she would yearn to return to the life of a mortal.

Those memories felt as vivid as yesterday. Alfred's lips curled into a faint smile before it faded into sorrow.

"Arabella…"

He knelt before her, clasped his hands, and began to pray.

From the moment they both gave up their divine thrones and chose to live as mortals, he had prayed for only one thing: to live a simple life with her—to grow old and die by her side.

She had always run ahead of him, her black hair flying behind her, burning with light and freedom.

Alfred's smile remained, even as grief gripped his chest.

"Arabella…" he whispered, barely audible.

Could she hear him from within her enchanted slumber?

Turning, Alfred faced the statue he had carved for her—stone chosen by hand, shaped with hammer and chisel, each stroke guided by memory and love. To him, the statue was not a shrine, but a confession. A monument of eternal repentance for the one love he had failed to protect.

He knelt at the foot of the statue, closed his eyes, and let the memories flood back.

The days when she always led the way…

"I'll wait for you," she had said once, her eyes sparkling. "No matter what, you have to keep following me!"

But he was always a step behind.

He remembered their younger days, when they sought the origin of all magic. Born as mortals, they had followed destiny's path together—seeking the primal mana stones, deciphering ancient ruins, facing countless dangers to unlock the essence of magical power.

"If we obtain this power, we can surpass all limits," Arabella had said, always so certain.

"What happens after that?" Alfred had asked, cautious even then.

But when he looked into her eyes, he always followed—always chose her path.

"We'll always be together," she said. "As long as we're side by side, there's nothing to fear. If we die, we die together. If we live, we live together. Isn't that enough?"

And Alfred, unable to resist her determination, had held her hand and never let go.

In time, they truly surpassed all limits. They cast off mortality and became divine.

He remembered it clearly—the blinding light that filled the skies, the divine power that wrapped around them.

"We're not human anymore…"

The moment they transcended their human limits, they left their humanity behind.

Alfred became the god of death. Arabella, the goddess of vengeance.

From mere mortals, they had become rulers of death and retribution—beings who defined the balance of the world.

Their names passed into myth, their deeds into legend.

Alfred slowly opened his eyes.

He had once believed becoming divine meant they would be together forever—and for a time, he was overjoyed.

But the seat of a god was not freedom. It was a prison made of responsibility and burden.

They had become gods for each other—but the world had other plans. It chained them in duty.

He often wondered: what if they had simply lived as mortals? What if they had chosen an ordinary life together?

But the answer was always the same.

No matter what path they took, there would have been regrets.

Eventually, they both abandoned their divine thrones.

Alfred and Arabella had chosen to return to life as mortals.

Though Alfred and Arabella had once accumulated vast magic and ascended to godhood, in the end, they had chosen happiness—just the two of them.

It was a time when many ancient gods had vanished, and new ones were rising in their place, so their departure from the divine realm had gone largely unnoticed.

But their peace didn't last long.

Rumors spread that the continent was in danger. With the ancient gods gone and others stepping down, the Vesus Volcano teetered on the edge of eruption.

Alfred and Arabella heard the cries of humanity. They responded, lending power and knowledge to the continent's heroes, helping them to form a grand sealing ritual to suppress the volcano.

Magical stones from across the lands were gathered. All the forces of the continent united for one purpose.

Confident the matter was under control, Alfred and Arabella returned to their quiet life.

But all of that hope shattered due to a single betrayal.

Radiant, one of the very heroes they had aided, stole all the accumulated magic and fled. Once thought an ally, he had deceived everyone and vanished with the power meant to save the continent.

With the sealing magic lost, the remaining heroes were left with no other choice. They sacrificed their very souls to suppress the volcano—fading from existence entirely.

Thus ended the final era when mortals could become gods.

Alfred and Arabella had been too late. Immersed in their small paradise, they only learned of the disaster after it had happened. And all they could do was watch, furious, as Radiant rose to power upon the shattered sacrifices of others.

But eventually… they accepted it.

Though the heroes were gone, the continent had been saved. And Radiant, despite his stolen power, was not strong enough to surpass Alfred or Arabella.

After that day, Radiant began absorbing the remnants of the fallen gods' magic. He spread his doctrines across the continent, twisting faith to suit his ambition.

Even then, Alfred remained indifferent.

He and Arabella knew what it meant to be gods. They had already lived it.

To Alfred, Radiant had once been nothing more than a wide-eyed boy, a child who had followed him around, idolizing his strength and copying his every move.

But Alfred never accepted him.

That rejection drove Radiant into despair.

Repeated refusals turned admiration into hatred. And so, Radiant swore to surpass Alfred—to become the one true god.

He was willing to do anything to achieve that.

While Alfred and Arabella lived quietly in seclusion, Radiant expanded his influence—absorbing ancient magic, subjugating lesser gods, and building an empire of false divinity.

Then, a second crisis struck the continent.

At the time, Arabella was pregnant with their second child, so Alfred had gone alone. What had once required 300 heroes, he attempted to resolve by himself.

He succeeded, but when he returned home… he was too late.

While they had hidden away, Radiant had gathered enough power to strike. He had found Arabella, vulnerable and alone, having just given birth.

Weakened from labor, she had no strength to fight back.

Alfred arrived just as Radiant was about to strip Arabella of the last of her divine essence.

Furious, Alfred faced him in battle.

Their powers were evenly matched. Though Alfred inflicted mortal wounds, Radiant escaped. His body was destroyed, leaving behind only his consciousness. Since then, Radiant had lingered in the shadows, slowly gathering divinity through his followers.

Before Arabella could perish entirely, Alfred made a decision.

He transferred all of his remaining divinity—along with the last remnants of their children's divine power—into her.

As a result, the children became fully human. But it allowed them to escape Radiant's pursuit.

Arabella was reborn as the goddess of death and vengeance once more. But it wasn't enough.

Alfred had only been able to stabilize her body and soul—not revive her.

So, he made his final choice.

He sealed her in ice.

Until he could find a way to bring her back completely, she would remain perfectly preserved in magical stasis.

Next, he sealed the children too—so that when Arabella woke, their family could be together again.

And thus, Alfred began a life of solitude in the mortal world.

He wandered through time and eras, watching, waiting.

He knew Radiant would return.

That day would come—and Alfred was preparing for it in silence. Because if he could absorb the last of Radiant's spirit and divine power, he could awaken Arabella once and for all.

Looking into the ice, at the woman he had loved across lifetimes, Alfred made a vow.

"When you wake again… I'll give you a peaceful life with our children. We'll grow old together. And we'll die… on the same day, at the same hour."

Years later, Alfred awakened the children first.

Having lived disguised as an executioner—the hidden high priest of death and vengeance—he was able to guide them into normal lives.

The second child, Margaret—Michael's mother—grew into a stunning woman, the mirror image of Arabella.

She fell in love with Dominic, and not long after giving birth to Michael, she passed away.

Alfred grieved deeply, but he accepted it.

Margaret had chosen her path and lived it fully.

He took Michael from Dominic, raising him alongside his remaining son, Henry, and daughter-in-law Clara.

But fate was cruel.

Michael was pushed from the castle wall by his jealous stepbrother, Lincoln, and died.

And once again, Alfred made a choice.

He retrieved Michael's soul from another dimension and brought him back to life.

Now, Michael had inherited Alfred's legacy—and his battle against Radiant.

As Alfred stared into the ice, into Arabella's sleeping face, his long, cursed life played out again in his mind.

Only one goal sustained him now:

To help his grandson destroy Radiant completely—and awaken Arabella.

And at last, that moment was drawing near.