Janus's gray eyes locked onto NOX as he analyzed him. "You're generating Force without expending energy. So, are you using a Concept? Or something similar, like Dark Energy?"
His voice carried genuine curiosity. As both a professor and a seeker of knowledge, he found it fascinating—almost unbelievable—that NOX was doing something that fundamentally violated the governing principles of Reality.
To understand the significance of this, one must recognize that every skill is a form of applied force, and Force itself requires energy. Yet NOX was using skills without consuming mana.
This wasn't something he could truly conceal. Even a fifteen-year-old could see it—NOX was breaking the rules, practically cheating.
But he had no intention of hiding it.
He wanted the world to fear him.
Not because he was some sadist who reveled in terror, but because fear was a shield—one that could protect his family. He had no way of knowing when the Heavens would strike, but one thing was certain: they wouldn't act directly.
They never did.
The Heavens didn't send divine warriors to eliminate threats. They didn't move through brute force. Instead, they wove destiny itself, manipulating the course of reality in ways so subtle that even the pawns they used remained unaware of their role.
For example,
If the Heavens wanted NOX to suffer or lose control, they wouldn't intervene outright. Instead, they would link his fate to that of a being he could not yet defeat. From that moment on, every choice he made and every action that entity took would inexorably draw them toward each other—until the clash became inevitable.
This was the true terror of the Heavens.
Creation was a book to them, and they held the pen. They could erase, rewrite, and shape existence as they pleased.
And NOX was fighting against that power.
No matter how many systems he possessed or how many "cheats" he created, they could do nothing more than buy him time—to protect himself and his family for now.
That was why he wanted 'Fear'.
He didn't crave it for its own sake, nor did he take pleasure in it. Fear was a tool—a necessary weapon. If people feared him, they would hesitate. They would tread carefully, weighing every action against the unknown consequences of provoking him.
And most importantly, if the Heavens tried to weave destiny against him, this fear would become an unpredictable variable.
Fear was both his lifeline and his currency.
His future was uncertain. Even the smallest mistake, the slightest miscalculation, could lead to catastrophe.
NOX didn't respond to Janus' curiosity, allowing the world to speculate as they pleased. Even if they unraveled the truth, it wouldn't put him at a disadvantage.
If anything, it would only serve to benefit him.
Once the world grasped the extent of his power, their fear would only deepen. His system and Divinity were not forces they could resist, let alone counter. And fear—true, overwhelming fear—would fuel him further.
The more they feared him, the more Emotion Points he would amass.
And could they truly suppress their own emotions?
Of course, he had no intention of revealing the existence of his system. He knew there were entities lurking in the shadows of the Universe, some imprisoned, some merely watching—beings powerful enough to bend reality itself to their will.
If he ever encountered such an existence, then his system would be nothing more than a helpless pawn, a tool to be rendered useless in an instant.
A sitting duck, waiting to be slaughtered.
Seeing that NOX remained silent, Janus sighed in disappointment. He decided not to poke this whimsical monster further—some mysteries were best left alone, especially when insisting might make him the living embodiment of "Curiosity Killed the Cat."
Tirius, still fuming, seized the opportunity to press the old man. "Fine, if you won't apologize, at least admit you were wrong."
His expression was a pitiful mix of frustration and reluctant pleading. If this old fart would just compromise a little, maybe he could finally let go of the grudge and enjoy his lazy days in peace.
"Wrong?" Janus asked, his tone dripping with innocence, though the smug smile hidden behind his beard betrayed him. "And what exactly was I wrong about?"
"You old bastard—" Tirius exploded, his rage bubbling over. "You threw me into a jungle naked for six months! I had to use leaves to cover myself!"
Janus stroked his beard, utterly unfazed. "You were a grown man. As a most responsible, generous, and respected teacher, I had to temper your character and mindset."
"I was thirteen, you senile old fart!" Tirius roared, his face red with both fury and the trauma of past suffering. "I nearly died from diarrhea and skin infections! And why the hell did you have to throw me in naked?!"
Janus snorted. "As the most responsible and generous master, I only had my students' best interests at heart. What? Did you think I took away your expensive clothes to sell them? I never thought I'd have to defend my honor against such an unfilial disciple." He even wiped at his nonexistent tears for added effect.
Tirius gritted his teeth so hard a cracking sound echoed in the room. "Then what about the time you gave me blue water, claiming it was a body-strengthening potion, and swindled all my wealth?"
"As the most—"
"If you give yourself another title, I swear I'll pluck out that damned beard of yours!" Tirius warned, his patience stretched to its limit.
Janus cleared his throat. "Ahem… As your master, I had a duty to teach you never to trust anyone. It was… training."
The more he spoke, the more Tirius' fury grew. This old fart was truly shameless, calling everything a lesson.
"Then what about the time you told my girlfriend I was struggling to accept my gender?!" Tirius demanded, his tone turning pitiful as he recalled the way she had looked at him before they broke up.
She had even offered to keep him as her 'bestie.'
Janus rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Ah, dark times for humanity. Identity is a delicate thing, after all. As your most generous master, I merely ensured you wouldn't make a mistake if, by chance, you were—"
Tirius' eyes burned with pure fury. "That's it! You and I are fighting to the death today!"
Watching the two bicker, NOX sighed inwardly, casting a pitiful glance at his uncle.
'Shadow Uncle… you truly suffered unimaginable injustices.'
Just as Tirius nearly coughed up blood in frustration, NOX and Janus simultaneously turned their gazes to the distance.
Janus' gray eyes pierced through layers of space, locking onto dozens of incoming fleets. His sight delved further, reaching the heart of the armadas, where the Dharma Soldiers were writhing in agony beneath the invisible grip of Nameless Decree.
He observed as Admiral Valen was consumed by the formless curse, his existence unraveling into nothingness.
Janus, despite his vast knowledge, felt a rare chill settle in his chest. The curse had no shape, no discernible presence, yet he could feel it—an undeniable force, like sensing the existence of a being that should not be.
[+2 Fear…]
[+2 Excitement…]
Janus exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on the Admiral's final moments. Valen had deserved better. Among the Admirals, he was known for his kindness, a figure of respect and honor.
But kindness and honor did not guarantee survival.
NOX remained still, his blindfolded gaze fixed in the direction where the Admiral had perished. He had sensed the activation of the Nameless Decree the moment its intended prey—the Dharma Soldiers—arrived.
Yet, what surprised him was the curse's behavior after its activation. It did not immediately strike but instead lingered, as though it were assessing something. For a brief moment, it seemed to be calculating, determining whether any among its victims were connected to its master—either directly or indirectly—through a Causal Link.
Without delay, NOX commanded his system to display the current status of the Nameless Decree.
[Curse of the Nameless Decree]
[Grade]: Legendary (Growth)
[Type]: Curse, Domain, Plague
[Growth]: 10%
[Target]: Dharma Soldier
[Domain]: Genesis Realm (Expanding)
[Effect]: A silent, invisible edict of annihilation, neither corrupting nor spreading, but patiently awaiting its moment. Once invoked, the curse establishes a pervasive, undetectable domain of death. It does not pursue its victims, nor does it forcefully assert its presence. Instead, it lies dormant, a quiet, inevitable doom.
So, after devouring the despair and souls of millions of soldiers and dozens of Rank 9 Awakeners, it has only grown by 10%? NOX pondered.
But what exactly did [Growth] signify? Would the curse simply increase in power, or was it capable of evolving beyond the Legendary Grade?
These thoughts swirled in his mind. Closing his eyes behind the blindfold, he concentrated, tracing the direction in which his curse was progressing.
A moment later, a wide, almost foolish grin stretched across his face.
It was both evolving and growing. Once it reached 100% growth, it wouldn't merely become stronger—it would transform. And if his instincts were correct, it might even awaken, just like a living being.
Excitement surged through NOX.
He had created a weapon that not only grew alongside him but could one day serve as an unwavering guardian for his family.
More than that, the Nameless Decree had an awareness of its own, capable of calculating causality and executing enemies the moment they stepped into its domain.
His grin widened.
Then, suddenly, he stopped. A realization struck him like a bolt of lightning.
If his curse could evolve and awaken, didn't that mean it could develop its own form—whether conceptual or physical?
And if so… there was a 50% chance it would take a male form?
NOX's eyes snapped open in horror.
Absolutely not.
Without wasting a second, he reached out, linking his consciousness to the Nameless Decree. As its master, he was intrinsically connected to it through both causality and soul.
And so, his first divine command as its creator was clear:
You must become a woman.
Yes, his curse must absolutely take a female form. He would make sure of it.
And thus began NOX's grand brainwashing—ahem, teaching—session. He imparted crucial wisdom upon his newly born curse, detailing the struggles of being a man and why it should never consider that path.
After all, he was a self-proclaimed Divine Protagonist, and though he had no interest in harems—nor did he tolerate brainless, unreasonable women who couldn't contribute to his story—he had a duty to ensure he was surrounded by powerful, competent female figures.
It was simply the way of the Divine Protagonist Rulebook.
And he would be damned if his first ever awakened curse turned out to be some brooding, vengeful cursed king.