"Waaaaahhh!"
The loud cry of a newborn echoed throughout the majestic palace. Hearing this sound, the faces of the attendants within the imperial court naturally lit up with smiles, their moods visibly brightening.
They knew that the heir to the empire had been born. Soon, the entire nation would be submerged in a sea of joy. The emperor might even declare a general amnesty, and even if they made a few mistakes, no one would blame them in such a celebratory atmosphere.
"I have another son!" Muria exclaimed, holding the tiny infant in one hand with a look of sentimentality. "I wonder how Aeolos and Gladys will react when they find out they have another younger brother?"
"In terms of bloodlines, Abigail and Aeolos don't have any connection," Mikaela said softly, her figure and appearance seemingly unchanged from before childbirth. Her expression carried a hint of complexity.
After giving birth to Gladys, Tiffany, and Kadia in the world of Erathia, Mikaela had no plans for further children. As a long-lived being, having four children already exceeded what was typical.
Even after her arrival in this world, she maintained her decision not to have more offspring. However, Muria had approached her, proposing they have another child—conceived through his reincarnated body, as using his true body would come at too high a cost.
"Bloodlines don't determine everything," Muria said, raising an eyebrow in response.
"So, do you intend to let Abigail meet Aeolos and the others in the future?"
"That… won't be necessary." Muria shook his head. He had no intention of making such arrangements because Abigail was born of his reincarnated body. His starting point simply couldn't compare to his other sons and daughters.
To be blunt, this child had no direct connection to Muria's true self. However, Muria was not an irresponsible person; otherwise, he wouldn't have brought Abigail into the world at all.
Several factors had led to Abigail's birth. One was Muria's reincarnated body's father, Ferdinand, who frequently nagged him about it. Another was the repeated petitions from his ministers. Finally, there was his sense of responsibility as a king.
Muria and Mikaela were destined to leave this world, and the empire they had united would need a successor.
Leaving the empire he had painstakingly built to a random lucky individual unrelated to him? Muria found that idea deeply unsatisfying. He wasn't so magnanimous or enlightened as to make such a decision. His draconic greed prevented him from doing so.
If he couldn't keep something himself, then it should at least remain within his own lineage. That was Muria's thinking, which led him to approach Mikaela and father another son, Abigail.
In some ways, Abigail could be considered a weakened version of Aeolos. When Muria and Mikaela had given birth to Aeolos, part of the reason was to have him inherit Muria's position and allow him to step back. Of course, that was merely a secondary motive, something that happened naturally.
Abigail's birth, on the other hand, was straightforward and purposeful: to inherit the empire Muria had established in this world. There were no other reasons.
Compared to his older brother Aeolos, Abigail was at an overwhelming disadvantage from birth. He hadn't inherited the bloodlines of Muria and Mikaela's true selves.
To be precise, Abigail's bloodline only had a tenuous connection to the Titan and Seraphic God clans. But this connection was so weak it was essentially negligible, especially when compared to Aeolos.
As for their future achievements, there was no contest. Thanks to the Heavenly Demon Secret Method, Aeolos was born destined for epic status.
Abigail, however, had no such luck. His identity and bloodline made it impossible for him to gain access to any secret methods capable of achieving epic status. Of course, this didn't mean it was impossible for him to become an epic being—nothing in life is absolute.
But Abigail was born in a medium-sized world, and the world's tier inherently limited his potential. The resources he could access were finite. Even with extraordinary talent, he couldn't defy these fundamental limitations.
"So, if they're not meeting, there's no need to worry about the relationship between Abigail and Aeolos," Mikaela said.
"Ah." Muria sighed as he looked at the exquisitely crafted infant swaddled in blankets.
"Why the sigh? Do you think it's unfair to Abigail?"
"There's nothing unfair about it. I've given him everything I possibly can," Muria said with a smile in response to Mikaela's question. Holding Abigail up high with both hands, he added, "From the moment he was born, he was destined to inherit an entire world. That's more than what most beings could ever dream of."
"But he's also destined to stop there, isn't he?"
"Not necessarily," Muria replied, shaking his head. "Nothing is absolute. Can a medium-sized world never produce an epic being? Under normal circumstances, no, but exceptions always exist."
"Still, if he doesn't enter the Void, stays within this world, and simply enjoys the pleasures of absolute power, that's not too bad either." As Muria held the black-haired baby aloft, the infant laughed joyously, and Muria joined in his laughter.
"Do you really think that's a good thing?" Mikaela asked, her gaze faintly peculiar. "Aren't Titans supposed to aspire to epic status?"
"But Abigail isn't a Titan. He's just an ordinary 'child.' He can enjoy a normal life without worrying about battles and the constant pursuit of strength," Muria replied.
"You're still the same as before, denying your sons any choice. You did the same to Aeolos, and now you're doing it to Abigail. You plan out their entire futures the moment they're born," Mikaela said with some dissatisfaction, shaking her head. In her view, Muria was far too domineering, filled with the controlling tendencies of a king—or rather, a ruler.
"It's not that I deny them choice. It's that, as my sons, they have no other options—just like me back then," Muria said with a faint sigh in response to Mikaela's complaint.
He still remembered his own youth, when his father, Ansol, brought him before the epic Titans and made him swear to pursue epic status as his life's goal.
At the time, Muria's heart wasn't entirely aligned with that ambition. He had seen the immense power of epic beings, but he had also seen the dangers of trying to become one. Deep down, he was somewhat resistant to the idea. Yet, he buried that resistance and said what his father and the elders expected him to say.
Born as a Titan, he had no choice but to aim for epic status. That was the natural pursuit of all Titans. His fate was sealed the moment he was born, just like his two sons now.
…
"Life is so boring," muttered a black-haired boy reclining lazily on steps that seemed to be carved from white jade. He gazed up at the sky, watching the white clouds drift slowly by, his demeanor utterly relaxed.
"Your Highness, such behavior undermines the dignity of the royal family. I must request that you…" Before long, his posture drew the attention of a palace eunuch, who approached to correct his behavior.
But as the eunuch, accompanied by nearly a hundred attendants, stood before him, the boy's expression remained indifferent—almost apathetic.
"First of all, what I do is none of your business. Second, the royal family's dignity is more than enough; a little less won't hurt. Third, go do what you're supposed to do and stop bothering me," the boy said lazily, cutting off the eunuch mid-sentence.
"As you command, Your Highness," the eunuch replied without the slightest change in expression. After bowing respectfully, he led his attendants away. He had offered his advice, but if this privileged prince refused to listen, there was nothing more he could do.
Once the disturbance had passed, the boy resumed lying on the white jade steps, staring at the sky. He treated the guards lining the broad street as mere decorations, ignoring the occasional curious glances from passersby.
"What are you looking at?" a warm voice suddenly sounded beside him. Hearing it, the boy's body instinctively tensed, almost sitting upright, but he quickly relaxed and remained sprawled like a salted fish.
"The clouds."
"What's so interesting about clouds?"
"Nothing, really. But I'm bored, so I'm watching them to pass the time."
"There are plenty of ways to pass the time. What you're doing is just wasting it."
"There's no difference. I've tried all the other ways and got tired of them. Now there's nothing I want to do."
"If you're truly at a loss for what to do, why not come and learn how to handle state affairs with me?" Muria suggested.
"Nope," the boy replied instantly, curling up slightly and showing a disdainful expression at the mere thought.
"You said you were bored. This is the perfect way to keep yourself occupied. If you have work to do, you won't be bored."
"Pass. I'll do anything else, but reviewing state affairs is too dull and tedious."
"No matter how dull or tedious it is, you'll still have to learn it. Someday, it'll be your responsibility."
"My responsibility? Isn't that what you're here for, Father?" The boy's face showed unconcerned defiance.
"But I won't always be here. One day, I will leave, and you will sit where I sit now, doing what I do," Muria said, his hands clasped behind his back, his eyes carrying a hint of weariness. He had already made up his mind to leave, and what kept him here now was this seemingly carefree boy beside him.
"Heh, you're trying to scare me, Father. You're so powerful that by the time trees grow on my grave, you'll still be the same as you are now. How could your position ever fall to me?"
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