Tyrant's return: Reborn as a Good-For-Nothing Young Master

With the heavy steel door forced open, the stench of old magic and rot drifted into the corridor like a warning.

Fenrir stepped into the dim, lifeless chamber with calm steps.

His boots echoed faintly against the stone floor, and the soft hum of the mana-draining machinery built into the walls vibrated through his bones.

The prison was not guarded, and that spoke volumes. They were not expecting anyone to come here.

Or rather, they believed there was no point.

Zerg had been sealed, drained, and discarded like an old relic no longer of use. That misplaced confidence irritated Fenrir more than he cared to admit.

He reached the final chamber—a thick metallic door inscribed with divine glyphs that would have stopped any normal intruder.

But Fenrir was no normal intruder. His regained divine authority surged through his palm as he placed it on the seal.

The glyphs tried to resist, but they faltered quickly, flickering out like dying embers. The system responded instantly.

[Divine Authority recognized. Seal deactivated.]

With a loud clank and slow grinding motion, the heavy door opened inward.

The room inside was dark.

No windows, no light sources except the weak blue glow from the veins of mana-siphoning crystals embedded in the floor and ceiling.

And there, in the center of the room, chained by thick black tendrils of draining energy, lay Zerg.

His body looked like it had aged a century. His once broad frame had shriveled into something frail, almost skeletal.

His skin clung to his bones. His eyes were shut, though not in sleep—more like quiet surrender.

When Fenrir entered, Zerg did not even raise his head.

There was no surprise in the old man's voice as he finally spoke.

"So... they've sent someone, huh? If you're here to finish me off, then... at least let me see my daughter one last time. Let me... say goodbye to her properly."

His voice was cracked, barely a whisper.

There was a pause.

Fenrir didn't respond right away. He stood in silence, staring at the once-mighty man who had stood by his side years ago, back when they were feared. Revered. Hated. Back when loyalty still meant something.

"I'm not here to kill you. I'm here because you made a promise to me."

Fenrir finally said, voice calm and low.

Zerg's eyes opened slowly.

At first, they were glazed over, unfocused. But something in Fenrir's tone—something familiar, something ancient—lit a spark in them. His tired gaze shifted to look at the figure before him properly.

His brows twitched slightly.

"That voice…"

"It's been a long time."

Fenrir said.

Zerg blinked slowly, then his eyes widened.

"...No. You—"

His voice broke.

Fenrir stepped forward. The divine pressure around him pulsed with clarity now, no longer warped or diluted. It was unmistakable.

The power of the one they once called the Tyrant. The man Zerg had followed through blood, betrayal, and fire. Fenrir Black.

"You're alive."

Zerg whispered.

"Obviously."

Zerg tried to sit up but coughed violently. Fenrir didn't help him—he knew Zerg would hate being treated like a cripple—but he did wait for him to recover.

"How...?"

Zerg rasped, still stunned.

"They sealed you at the top... they said..."

"I prepared for that. And the ones who tried to seal me? Not worth worrying about anymore."

Fenrir replied.

Zerg closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the stone wall.

"You never change."

"And neither did you. You're still alive. You kept your end of the deal as best you could. Now it's time I uphold mine."

Fenrir said, stepping closer.

Zerg gave a slow exhale, almost a laugh, though it hurt to do so.

"You shouldn't have come. They'll be after you now. If they know what's happening..."

"They already know. They just don't know what to do about it yet."

Fenrir interrupted.

He lifted his hand. The chains reacted instantly, pulling tighter against Zerg's body.

But they weren't tightening because of Fenrir—they were resisting.

The prison's fail-safes flared to life, reacting to Fenrir's divine energy.

"I'll handle it."

Fenrir muttered, and his system activated in response.

The ground beneath them rumbled as the crystal veins shattered, one by one, the energy being sucked from Zerg now being poured back into him.

Zerg coughed again—but this time, it sounded stronger.

"Don't waste time talking. Get back on your feet. I need you."

Fenrir said, eyes glowing faintly.

Zerg opened his eyes again, and though he still looked like a shadow of his former self, there was a trace of something new—or rather, something old.

Determination.

"I promised you, didn't I?"

Zerg said.

Fenrir nodded.

"Yes. And I'm calling in that promise now."

Zerg exhaled, looked around the cell that had held him for years, then back at Fenrir.

"Then get me the hell out of here."

The prison gates groaned as they opened one after another, not from keys or commands, but from sheer force of will. Fenrir walked ahead, each step pulsing with the force of Monarch's Pressure.

The ancient energy oozed from him like a living storm, making the very walls tremble in its presence. Doors flung open at his approach, locks undone not by tools but by submission.

"This place has no security. They were so sure of themselves, they didn't even bother with guards."

Fenrir muttered with a mix of annoyance and disappointment.

Zerg followed slowly behind, his breath still ragged but his steps steadier than before. He flinched as the familiar weight of Monarch's Pressure passed over him, dragging up memories he'd buried deep.

"That power…You reclaimed it?"

he said, halting briefly.

Fenrir didn't turn around.

"Of course."

Zerg's fists clenched at his sides.

"And... my daughter? Zelphra? What did you do to her?"

"She's alive…This time."

Fenrir replied without pause.

Zerg's steps stopped completely.

"What do you mean by 'this time'?"

Fenrir glanced over his shoulder, his eyes sharp.

"It means that the next time she decides to take a swing at me, I won't be as patient."

Zerg's expression darkened.

"Leave her to me. She's not your problem anymore. I'll handle Zelphra."

"Good. Then make sure she remembers that she owes her life to that promise you made."

Fenrir said, facing forward again.

The two pushed forward through the crumbling pathways of the prison, the air thick with dust and residual mana. Chains lay broken, security enchantments shattered, and yet, still no resistance. It felt almost insulting.

But as they neared the outer corridors, the silence broke.

"Who's there?"

A voice rang out, sharp and surprised.

Several guards turned the corner, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the sight of the two figures standing in the middle of the broken facility.

"W-what—sound the alarm!"

One of them yelled.

Fenrir sighed.

"Finally."

The guards scrambled, fumbling for weapons and activating their comms. Mana surged as one of them launched a bolt toward Fenrir, but he didn't even flinch.

Monarch's Pressure lashed out in response, turning the attack to mist mid-air and slamming the offender into the wall with a bone-crunching thud.

Zerg barely managed to stay on his feet as the power washed over the area like a flood.

"You've only gotten worse."

He muttered under his breath.

Fenrir smirked without humor.

"That's one way to put it."

He stepped forward, eyes locked on the trembling guards.

"Let me show you what 'worse' really looks like."