No! I don't want to be a Super Necromancer!

Damien closed his eyes briefly. Within the stillness of his mind, a familiar, ancient voice whispered clearly.

"The final reward for passing my trial…I give you the first inheritor, the bearer of the key."

The Gravewalker's deep, echoing voice resonated powerfully through Damien's core, calm yet fierce with solemn pride.

"Conquer the Cosmic Battlefield, Damien. It was my greatest, unfulfilled wish."

Damien's eyes snapped open. A surge of pure clarity flooded him. The Gravewalker's final message, the reason for all the trials, the hidden battlefield, the key, and the inheritor himself, was now crystal clear.

This was destiny, woven by powers beyond even the dragons.

The inheritor was now almost upon him, eyes wide with triumphant arrogance, crimson energies crackling from his fingertips. "Now! Your power will be mine!"

Damien raised one hand, his palm facing upward, calm and steady. The inheritor laughed, thinking Damien defenseless, ready to claim victory.

But Damien's voice rang softly through the air, carrying quiet authority that stopped even the Matriarch cold:

"You've made a mistake."

The inheritor hesitated, doubt flickering briefly through his crimson eyes.

At that moment, a strange energy exploded forth completely unbidden.

It was the Gravewalker's sealed rune that had lain dormant in Damien's soul after he completed the true trial of his inheritance site.

It enveloped the inheritor in an instant.

He tried to scream, but found himself frozen, betrayed by the very power which brought him to his lofty position. His eyes widened in disbelief and fear.

"No… impossible!" he gasped weakly, energy draining visibly from his body.

"This is fate." Damien whispered softly. "By inheriting the key, you were destined to be my stepping stone."

He raised his other hand, drawing forth the inheritor's essence, gradually absorbing the vibrant crimson energy, refined through years of ruthless cultivation. Damien felt power unlike anything he had imagined surge into him… space itself.

Damien's eyes widened slightly in pleasant surprise. He had not expected the inheritor to be a wielder of space energy as well.

Slowly, steadily, he pulled every ounce of the inheritor's strength into himself, merging it perfectly into his own core.

Astonished, the Matriarch stepped forward again, eyes wide in shock. Her aura trembled visibly, realizing the gravity of the unfolding moment.

"No…" she murmured softly.

Damien's energy expanded, harmonizing fully as death, time, darkness, and space fused into a single, overwhelming presence.

Even though the space energy he had absorbed was quite low in purity, it was very abundant.

Enough for a minor fusion with his death and time energy.

Shua!

"Timespace," Damien whispered.

In that instant, he felt the universe shift around him. His senses expanded to dimensions he had never perceived. His core revolved with immense power, now more balanced and infinitely deeper.

Below him, Fluffy laughed, eyes wide with awe and triumph. "Master… magnificent."

Blackie and Rage Monkey paused, staring upward, jaws agape in disbelief.

Even the twelve Apostles halted their attacks, sensing the birth of something truly transcendent. They looked toward the Matriarch uncertainly, suddenly aware that everything had changed.

Damien slowly lowered his hands, releasing the husk of the inheritor. The red-haired figure collapsed onto the ground, powerless, empty, a shell drained of its stolen legacy.

Damien turned calmly toward the Matriarch, eyes glowing faintly with infinite depth. "Thank you," he said simply.

The Matriarch smiled bitterly, recognizing she'd been outplayed by fate itself. "So… the inheritor was the prize. All along, you were destined for this."

Damien nodded slowly. "Yes."

Around them, the chaos of battle had ceased entirely. Fluffy and the others regrouped, stepping back respectfully to stand at Damien's side.

The Matriarch took a deep breath, releasing her tension.

Her violet eyes were sharp, focused now not on the past but on the unfolding future. Slowly, deliberately, she stepped forward, facing Damien directly. Her expression had shifted.

Gone was the hostility, replaced by cold, calculating appraisal.

"Fate truly does favor you, young warrior." she said quietly, her voice smooth yet edged with caution. "You hold the power of timespace now, rare even among the most powerful of dragons. Perhaps, instead of being enemies, we might form a… mutually beneficial arrangement."

Damien raised an eyebrow, his senses fully alert.

The Matriarch, despite her immense strength, recognized opportunity even amid loss. She had clearly not survived centuries without a keen instinct for turning danger into advantage.

"What arrangement are you proposing?" Damien asked evenly, wary yet intrigued.

She paused, choosing her words carefully, knowing every ear was listening closely. "You have come at a very particular time, young warrior. As you know, the hidden battlefield we're about to enter contains treasures beyond ordinary comprehension."

She held Damien's gaze firmly. "Among them is a legendary item. The Thousand-Year Bloodroot Ginseng. One hundred years ago, during the last opening, it was found but left untouched, as it had not fully matured.

Now, it stands ripe, powerful beyond reckoning. Ancient scrolls speak of its ability to awaken a mysterious, potent blood-related power, one once wielded by legendary cultivators who fought side-by-side with the Darkness Sovereign himself."

Damien felt a sharp pulse of curiosity surge within him. "Blood-related power?"

"Yes," she confirmed quietly, voice heavy with gravity. "It grants the consumer access to powers tied to the very essence of bloodlines, allowing manipulation, enhancement, even mutation of one's lineage. For dragons, whose strength is intimately bound to their bloodlines, it's priceless."

Damien tilted his head slightly, intrigued despite himself. "And your offer?"

"Lead my clan's contingent into the battlefield." she said simply. "Win the Bloodroot Ginseng from the other four dragon clans, and I promise, I will divide it equally with you. Half for my clan, half for you and your companions."

A shocked murmur instantly erupted among the gathered dragons. Several young nobles surged forward, faces flushed with anger, voices filled with righteous fury.

"Matriarch, you can't possibly—!" shouted one dragon lord, clearly one of her offspring. "This human murdered my brother, the Crown Prince! To entrust our greatest opportunity to him would dishonor us all!"

Another chimed in fiercely, "Mother, have you forgotten his crimes? He humiliated us! You must—"

"SILENCE!" Her voice cut sharply, instantly freezing them mid-sentence. The Matriarch's gaze swept coldly over her protesting children, commanding absolute authority. Her voice lowered dangerously, almost to a whisper. "You question my decision?"

The dragons fell silent, heads bowed, resentment clear but submission complete.

"I understand your anger," she continued quietly, deadly calm. "But the path forward does not lie in vengeance. It lies in strength. This young human has proven his strength beyond any doubt. He has surpassed expectation, conquered challenges that defy logic, and possesses a power none of us fully comprehend. If anyone can secure the Bloodroot Ginseng, it is him."

She turned back to Damien, eyes unyielding. "Do you accept, young warrior? I offer this in good faith. Half of a priceless treasure, and a chance to build an alliance that could change our future."

Damien considered her carefully, weighing her words.