NOX tilted his head, watching as his Shadow Uncle ascended into the starry expanse. The flickering distortions of space in Tirius' wake were proof enough—this was not some ordinary skirmish. The moment those three clashed, the fabric of reality itself would tremble.
And yet…
NOX had far more pressing concerns.
His head shifted slightly, blindfolded gaze sweeping over the gathered students.
They flinched.
Some averted their eyes, their shoulders stiff with tension. Others froze in place, as though the mere acknowledgment of his existence might summon divine judgment upon them.
And just like that—
Ding!
[+1240 Fear….]
[+957 Hatred….]
[+700 Uncertainty….]
A chuckle nearly slipped from his lips.
'Ah, what fine livestock. What precious golden geese.'
Teenagers were truly such easy prey. A single frown, a slight shift in demeanor, and they laid golden eggs of fear straight into his treasury.
He had half a mind to adopt them all as his personal farm.
Imagine it—NOX's Grand Cultivation Poultry Sect.
The disciples?
None other than the noble-blooded, arrogant, and self-important elites of Astraeus Academy, now reduced to trembling fowls, endlessly feeding his Unrecorded Divinity.
He could just frown at them daily, and they would lay Emotion Points.
'Ah! What a fantastic idea. What a fantasy!'
For a full minute, NOX was utterly lost in his musings, picturing the absurdity of his imaginary sect.
But why stop at students?
If he was going to cultivate a sect, shouldn't he pick the best disciples?
'Perhaps… a skeleton?' NOX mused. 'Yes, a talking skeleton would do well. Wise, ancient, spouting nonsense about the meaning of existence…'
A grin spread across his lips.
'And an ant. A tiny, insignificant ant that somehow defies the heavens, crawling toward immortality… A butterfly, fragile yet untouchable… … Ooh, a sentient mushroom that recites poetry! A walking corpse.....'
His mind spun with possibilities, each more absurd than the last.
'Ah… what a lineup.'
His smirk widened as he clasped his hands behind his back.
'I truly am a Divine Protagonist.'
If his Shadow Uncle were still here, he would have frozen at his nephew's behavior. Just moments ago, NOX had been radiating pure, maddening hatred, his presence distorting space itself. And now? Now he was entertaining thoughts of adopting skeletons, ants, butterflies—anything bizarre enough to make his imaginary cult more amusing.
Lucas had been right—NOX was the very definition of whimsical.
And perhaps, after awakening his Unrecorded Divinity, his whimsical nature had only deepened.
'Wait for me, my future disciples. Your master will find you soon.'
Speaking of masters…
His attention shifted, this time landing on the two professors standing rigid in the distance.
Professor Varion, ever the silent observer.
And Histaria Thornwood.
His so-called master.
His lips curled as he addressed them in the most casual, most indifferent tone imaginable. "Professors, do be good caretakers, will you? My golden geese must be protected."
He didn't want his precious livestock dying in the chaos that was about to unfold.
Histaria exhaled sharply.
It wasn't the words that struck her—it was how they were spoken.
He wasn't asking. He wasn't even commanding. It was a mere afterthought, an idle remark, as though their actions were so inconsequential to him that he could not be bothered to check whether his words were even acknowledged.
And yet… she would acknowledge them.
Because she had already lost.
She had cornered him, labeled him a devil, aligned herself with the Human Supreme Society when it suited her interests. And now, she stood here, regret weighing heavily on her shoulders.
But was it true regret?
Or merely an illusion to soothe her own guilt?
Histaria did not know.
And perhaps… she did not want to know.
She could no longer fathom NOX. Was he angry? Did he hate them?
If so, then what about this casual demeanor, as if this was all but a play written and performed by him?
NOX tilted his head, blindfolded eyes unreadable. "Ah, don't look so miserable, Master. It's unbecoming." A pause. "Besides, a proper master would have never lost their student in the first place."
Histaria's fingers twitched.
Professor Varion, on the other hand, remained utterly still, his face a blank canvas. He had not moved a single step since Tirius arrived. He did not even breathe too deeply, as though afraid that even the slightest disturbance might draw NOX's attention.
Unlike the others, he was at least somewhat intelligent.
He had already deduced that NOX was a creature of ever-shifting moods—an enigma whose actions defied logic. And when one could not determine whether such a being was rational or insane, the correct choice was to assume the worst.
But NOX had already lost interest in them.
His gaze drifted toward the soldiers.
Unlike the students, they did not flinch. They did not waver. Their spines were stiff, their hands steady on their weapons. Discipline had long since beaten fear out of them.
And yet—
Ding!
[+2100 Wariness….]
[+1800 Hostility….]
[+1300 Cautious Fear….]
NOX exhaled in amusement. "Even you lot, hm? How generous."
Ah, but therein lay the dilemma.
These soldiers, too, were his golden geese. Each glance, each subtle shift in posture—another precious drop of emotion fed into his treasury.
He scanned them once more, analyzing their strengths with a cold, detached gaze. Most were Rank 4 and Rank 5 Awakeners—competent, but ultimately insignificant. Among them, a few dozen Rank 6 elites stood out, their auras more refined, their battle instincts sharper.
But the true danger came from the dozen Rank 7 powerhouses standing at the forefront.
'Tch. They really did underestimate the Dark Heaven Clan.'
The Society had assumed that NOX's guardian would be at most a Rank 6 or Rank 7 Awakener—formidable, but not an insurmountable obstacle. So, they had sent two generals and a fleet of soldiers as a precaution.
But the presence of Tirius Ashborn changed everything.
Their careful planning had crumbled instantly.
Still, NOX knew that reinforcements were already on their way. The Society would not take this loss lightly. He estimated that dozens of Rank 9 Awakeners were en route.
Yes, dozens.
The Human Supreme Society ruled over countless Lower Planes. They had thousands—if not hundreds of thousands—of Rank 9 Awakeners at their disposal.
Of course, the Society was not unified. It was fragmented, riddled with power struggles and internal conflicts. But even so, a direct confrontation with them was… troublesome.
NOX sighed, shaking his head. His golden geese were precious, and these soldiers were no exception, laying thousands of Emotion Points with each passing second.
And now?
Now he had to kill them.
What a waste.
It was heartbreaking to lose such treasured livestock. But as the self-proclaimed Divine Protagonist, he had to make tough choices.
His lips pressed together, and—ever the dutiful farmer—he mourned.
Not after. Not during. But before.
"A moment of silence," he murmured, clasping his hands behind his back as though conducting a solemn funeral rite. "For the golden geese, whose final eggs shall be laid in blood."
[+1700 Hatred…]
[+1642 Fear....]
A few of the soldiers stiffened, uncertain whether they had just been insulted or honored.
NOX smirked.
"Ah, but let it not be said that I am heartless. If you flee now, I shall forgive your betrayal and pretend I never saw you." He tilted his head, his voice lilting with something almost teasing. "But if you stay…"
His smile widened, mockery dripping from his words.
"...Then I shall accept your emotion-induced loyalty,"
Of course, NOX would not let them go even if they begged. He was taunting them, tempting them—stirring their emotions to make them lay eggs one last time before he snapped their necks.
The air stilled.
Not a single soldier moved.
He sighed, his tone laced with exaggerated disappointment. "Tough decision, indeed."
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his every movement sending ripples of unease through the soldiers.
Their grips on their weapons tightened.
The students barely breathed, terror creeping into their bones as they wondered—would they live to see the next moment?
Histaria's expression remained unreadable, her thoughts hidden behind a carefully maintained facade.
And far above them all—
The battle in the stars had already begun.