In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

With Miaomiao perched on his shoulder, Michael slowly lifted his head as he sat atop Marcus's broad back.

His gaze fell upon the deep valleys of the Argo mountain range, where frigid winds howled relentlessly.

Before the sun fully disappeared, snow-capped peaks blended seamlessly with a darkening sky, creating a deep, bluish veil. The ridges looked as though carved by ancient dragons, and the frozen gorge seemed to exist beyond the reach of seasons.

The mountains slumbered like giants, hiding countless secrets beneath their ancient depths, along with an age-old temple.

Miaomiao, resting comfortably on Michael's shoulder, yawned softly.

[Miao… shouldn't we finish things up now?]

Michael gently stroked Miaomiao's head, nodding slowly in agreement. The mountain wind was biting and fierce, cold enough to numb the tip of his nose. His cloak flapped briskly in the breeze, carrying whispers of forgotten names and echoes of the distant past.

Michael narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Yes... there's still something left for us to do."

He spoke lightly, but the weight behind his words was immense.

"Shall we go, then?"

A subtle smile crossed Michael's lips.

The moment his words ended—

Kwaang!

Marcus pushed off the ground, soaring upward with explosive force. His massive wings unfurled, scattering accumulated snow from the rocks like an avalanche. Wind burst forth, shattering the silent tranquility of the mountains.

The young dragon's mighty wingbeats sliced through the air. Although Marcus had barely entered adolescence by dragon standards, thanks to Michael sharing his power, Marcus radiated a presence comparable to an ancient dragon.

In mere seconds, Marcus's colossal body ascended hundreds of meters into the sky.

Michael calmly lifted his face to the heavens, fully embracing the fresh wind.

It felt wonderfully refreshing.

At the same moment.

Deep beneath the calm surface of a quiet lake, hidden below thousands of layers of silence, stood a sealed underground temple untouched by any visitor.

It was a place filled with lingering prayers and anguished cries from forgotten eras, a realm untouched by the light and devoid of sound. Completely isolated from the passage of time, it remained a dimension unto itself.

Beneath the water's surface, blurred traces of ancient scripts floated gently across massive pillars and stone walls. Dust so ancient had merged into the very stone itself.

Tiny idols placed among the columns stood with their heads bowed and eyes closed, forgotten by gods and beings alike. No one listened to this place anymore.

But at the heart of that silent abyss—

Deep within the protective barrier at the temple's core, atop a crumbling altar, lay a figure curled like a corpse.

Lucrezia.

Tortured and killed by Gwanghwi's cruel hands.

A once-great priestess who had delivered the will of the Goddess of Fire to the world.

Lucrezia's eyes, sealed in silence for so long within the temple of stone and ancient magic, suddenly snapped open. Bright, clear light shone forth from eyes previously hollowed by torment.

Her slender fingers slowly pressed against the cold stone floor.

[Ah… My lord.]

Within the swirling mist, her hooded form erupted in joyful anticipation.

At that very instant, the underground temple's stale air shifted direction. An intangible force shattered like glass, resonating deeply within her bones.

A smile spread slowly across Lucrezia's lips.

The oppressive presence—an emblem of deceit and oppression—had finally vanished completely.

The thief who, ages ago, had slain her goddess and stolen divinity itself was no more.

She sensed the disappearance of the presence that had guarded outside the temple.

She knew precisely whose presence it had been.

Gwanghwi.

The betrayer who once trampled her goddess and usurped divine authority.

The false god cloaked in pretended order.

A traitor behind a mask.

Now, every trace of him had vanished completely. Lucrezia felt this certainty deep within her entire being.

The balance of the world, its laws, momentarily stood still.

Nature's breath shifted, old chains shattered, and at the end of all those changes—

A forgotten emotion burst forth powerfully.

[Haha… hahaha! Ahahahahaha!!]

Laughter, suppressed for centuries, flowed uncontrollably from her lips.

Accumulated rage and joy erupted together in a single instant.

[At last... he's finally gone.]

Her voice echoed like a joyful cry of liberation, resonating powerfully within the temple walls.

The mist around her swirled as if echoing her emotions, coloring the formerly monochromatic space in hues of red. The golden patterns engraved on the ceiling of the temple began glowing simultaneously.

Her waiting had finally come to an end.

Lucrezia gazed beyond the mist.

There he stood.

The one she'd awaited for so long had finally appeared.

Michael.

Michael, accompanied by Marcus and Miaomiao, materialized inside the underground temple and reached out his hand toward Lucrezia.

Lucrezia could only stare at him, her mouth agape.

Such long ages.

Endless nights.

Within darkness so profound even time itself had ceased to move, she had waited only for this very moment.

With a stopped heart, with a vanished physical form, existing only as a wounded soul, she had persevered, enduring beyond endurance.

And now, that moment had finally arrived.

A gentle breeze began to blow.

Her lord approached slowly.

Quietly, step by step.

Michael's hand clasped Lucrezia's delicate fingers.

As if breaking an ancient seal, as if tearing through a hidden veil of reality, space itself gently twisted around them.

Whoosh.

The hood Lucrezia had worn slipped away, revealing her face beneath.

Her skin, once twisted by torture and cursed, now appeared flawlessly restored.

The black chain-like scars that had once wrapped Lucrezia's body were now entirely gone.

Lucrezia slowly raised her head, tears streaming down her face.

[Thank you, my lord.]

With Gwanghwi's disappearance, the curse binding her had also vanished. The old laws had collapsed, deceit had ended, and truth had been restored.

She smiled once again—this time, the brightest of smiles.

Her newly restored eyes now held nothing but pure, unwavering loyalty.

She dropped to her knees before the lord who had avenged her, offering him voluntary and proud submission.

Deep within the temple—a sealed place no one could easily enter.

The sealed space began to tremble, and the stone statues surrounding it crumbled one by one. The oppressive force held captive within was finally breaking free.

The tremors rippled through the silent depths, reaching far beyond the temple into the long-sealed training hall.

There, the soul of a man was held captive—a man forced into eternal waiting, bound by his own soul as collateral.

Inside the training hall, Alexander paused from swinging his sword and lifted his head, a faint smile appearing on his handsome face.

'Has he... finally succeeded?'

All those years spent hiding from Gwanghwi flashed vividly through his mind.

The unbearable pain of burning alive, the agony of his soul torn apart, forced to linger endlessly within this hall.

He turned toward the training hall's entrance.

The vibrations gradually ceased, and the immense doors slowly opened.

And there, within the widening gap, stood the one Alexander had longed to see.

His lord stood there, waving gently—a sight he had only seen in dreams.

Alexander finally lowered his sword to the ground.

Then, with measured and steady steps, he walked toward his lord.

He would never be lonely again.

Drake stood facing the ocean breeze, guarding the magical ship for a period he could no longer measure.

Waves rolled endlessly onto the broad shore beneath thick, gray clouds drifting silently along the horizon.

Normally, he would have appreciated such a majestic scene, but right now, his eyes took in none of it.

Drake anxiously stared out toward the distant sea—beyond visibility, to the place where his lord had vanished with his kin.

His jaw was tense, his lips pressed tightly shut.

Without blinking once, he kept his eyes locked on the distant mountains.

Behind him, his subordinates stood nervously, exchanging worried glances.

"How many days has it been now? Almost three, right?"

"Even if he's a Yoma now, he still should eat or at least rest."

"Shh! The captain's obviously not in the mood. Remember, the lord is off facing his final battle."

Drake paid no mind to their anxious whispers. For a man who'd once been executed by Gwanghwi's fanatics, anxiety was inevitable.

Countless waves rolled in and retreated, yet he remained completely motionless.

Then, at long last, he felt the shift in the world's laws.

Drake sharply lifted his head.

'At last... he's victorious!'

Moments passed before he heard the familiar sound of massive wings in the distance, a deep rhythmic beat echoing across the skies.

Something enormous sliced through the air, approaching rapidly.

Drake's heart raced fiercely in response.

Michael. It was his lord.

Drake took a deep breath, tilted his head upward, and gazed toward the heavens.

Backlit by the sun's glow over the ocean, a vast shadow steadily drew nearer.

Red scales glistened spectacularly in the sunlight.

Drake's face filled with pure, overwhelming joy—the greatest he'd ever known.

"My Lord! Over here! We're here!"

He shouted at the top of his lungs, arms waving frantically. Understanding the situation, the sailors behind him joined in, shouting desperately and waving their arms as well.

"Here! Land here, my lord!"

"He's returned! Our lord has returned!"

"Whooo! We won! That damned Gwanghwi is finally gone!"

Cheers erupted from the deck, filling the entire ship with excitement.

They all knew perfectly well what Michael and Alfred had set out to do—and who exactly they had faced. They had every reason to rejoice, for the victory was as much theirs as Michael's.

Marcus's powerful wingbeats gradually slowed. The massive form shrank swiftly and landed gracefully onto the deck.

Behind him, Michael stepped down lightly, his cloak fluttering gently in the wind, sunlight scattering softly across his shoulders.

Beside Michael, two others landed softly.

One was a strikingly beautiful woman with pale skin and midnight-black hair.

The other was a handsome knight, broad-shouldered and radiating strength.

They were Lucrezia and Alexander.

Both had returned from death, their souls restored after Gwanghwi's defeat.

Michael quietly contemplated the divine power accumulated within his body—the very power that had resurrected Arabella's soul and brought back Lucrezia and Alexander.

Now, it was time to part ways with that power.

"Let me introduce you all. This is Lucrezia and Alexander, newly resurrected Yomas."

Drake, momentarily surprised, swiftly removed his hat and bowed respectfully.

Lucrezia and Alexander, both wearing slightly awkward smiles, returned the greeting.

Michael smiled softly at the historic meeting between heroes of different eras, then slowly rose into the air.

Now, there was a task only he could accomplish.

Miaomiao looked up at Michael, eyes filled with worry.

[Michael... are you sure you'll be alright, Mia?]

Michael simply smiled, saying nothing at first.

Finally, he gently patted Miaomiao and Marcus on their heads and spoke softly.

"Well then... I'll be back soon."