Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

“I see…”

Alan toyed with the obsidian badge in his hand with interest. Even in this lightless realm, he could clearly see a faint blue six-pointed star-shaped magic array slowly rotating within the heart of the obsidian stone.

“So, if I use a mana stone to activate the array inside the badge, what will happen?”

The middle-aged man scratched his head with an awkward smile.

“Well… I’m not entirely sure. Like I said, everyone’s mana signature is different, so the effect triggered will definitely vary from person to person. But at the very least, the array’s basic functions will still activate for you.”

“Hmm… let me think… what did I program into the base mana circuit again… speed enhancement, defensive reinforcement, significant physical augmentation…”

He muttered to himself for quite a while, then clapped his hands and concluded, “In short, once you activate the magic array, your physical combat ability using mana will receive a serious boost. On top of that, you’ll also gain elemental resistances. To put it simply—you’ll be a lot harder to kill. You won’t shatter at the first touch like most mages do.”

Alan’s eyes widened.

If what the man said was true, then this obsidian badge was a priceless artifact—especially for someone like him. In today’s magic world, external mana manipulation was the dominant form. Magical tools that enhanced internal mana manipulation were practically unheard of.

“This is… incredible. Thank you so much!”

Alan bowed deeply in gratitude. The man simply waved it off, saying nothing more.

It was then that Alan noticed something—his mentor’s form, constructed entirely from mana, was growing fainter by the second. The energy sustaining his body was beginning to fade. He was already on the verge of total dissolution.

It seemed that their time together was almost up.

As the moment of farewell loomed, the middle-aged man looked deep into Alan’s eyes and spoke softly:

“I don’t believe in coincidence. Everything is fated, just like our meeting today. Now go—ascend, climb to heights that none of us old mages have ever seen. I believe, if it’s you, you can make it happen.”

And with that, his figure dissolved into nothing, devoured completely by the boundless darkness surrounding them.

Alan stood there quietly, a surge of emotion in his chest.

Most of the mages he had encountered in life had been cold, hostile, or self-serving.

But this man—he was different. He had worked to make the world a better place, not for power, but because he cared.

Alan didn’t believe he could become such a man himself.

But what he could do—was protect those like him.

Just as Alan collected himself and prepared to leave the dark space, he caught something in the corner of his eye.

Two badges sat silently nearby, glowing with a strange, seductive light. Their mana aura was intense, almost hypnotic. Their ornamentation was far more lavish than the obsidian badge he currently held.

And yet… Alan didn’t even glance at them twice.

Without hesitation, he turned and walked away from the dark space.

Moments later, the middle-aged man reappeared in the same spot.

He knelt, picked up the two shimmering badges, and disassembled them, reducing them back to raw mana.

“Hah… even the final test couldn’t stir the slightest temptation in him.”

He pressed his hand to his forehead and muttered, “Such a good kid… why’d he have to be born in a godforsaken place like the Plantagenet Kingdom? What a damn shame…”

…

Fresh air.

Bright sunlight.

Rolling mountain ranges stretching out endlessly to the horizon.

As Alan’s vision cleared and the outside world came back into focus, a strange, dreamlike sensation overcame him—as though he’d been away for years and only just returned.

“Hey! Everyone, look! He’s out—Alan’s back!”

A booming, familiar voice rang in his ears.

Alan didn’t even need to turn to know—it was Francis.

He slowly pivoted toward the sound and saw them all—Headmaster Gayle, his comrades from Sirius Academy, and even the regal Third Princess Rosalia—all standing nervously in place, watching him intently.

Not a single person was missing.

Alan was struck by a wave of emotion.

Without thinking, he began walking toward them.

Rosalia, seeing Alan coming her way, quickly turned around and hastily wiped the redness from the corners of her eyes.

Then, as if trying to maintain her usual demeanor, she made a move to leave.

“Your Highness, where are you going?” Blanche called out, catching sight of her.

Without turning around, Rosalia replied coldly, “Now that he’s fine, there’s no reason for me to stay. As the governor of Ironblood City and the Third Princess of the kingdom, I have important duties. I don’t have time to waste standing around here with you all.”

Francis sidled up to Alan and whispered, “Wow… turns out Her Highness is pretty cold-blooded, huh?”

Alan grinned. “She’s always like that. You get used to it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Francis gave him a long, disapproving look.

Then he let out an exasperated sigh and smacked Alan on the back.

“I gave you a perfect opening and you didn’t even bite?”

“Even someone with zero emotional intelligence should know to say something at a time like this. And you just shrugged it off with ‘get used to it’? Alan, are you actually made of wood?”

“What should I have said, then?”

“Said?” Francis gaped. “Forget saying something! She’s walking away—you should go after her! Dummy!”

“Oh…”

Alan really wasn’t good at this kind of thing.

So Francis’ perfect setup had been totally wasted.

But at least it wasn’t too late to fix things.

Alan quickly caught up and walked alongside Rosalia. In a soft voice, he said, “Let me escort you back. You were attacked by a dark mage earlier, right? You’ve probably burned through a lot of mana.”

“I’m fine,” she replied emotionlessly.

“Are you heading straight to the capital? Or back to Ironblood City?”

“Either is fine.”

“…Did I do something to upset you?”

“No.”

“Then why are you talking to me like this?”

“I’m tired.”

“…Got it.”

Alan scratched his head, unsure how to keep the conversation going.

Suddenly, Rosalia stopped walking and turned to face him, her eyes locking with his.

Her cheeks were faintly flushed as she said, “Next time… don’t do that again.”

“Huh? Don’t do what again?”

“Don’t throw yourself into danger and make me worry. That’s a royal command. If you disobey… I’ll… I’ll lock you up in a dungeon with no food for three days!”

Alan couldn’t help but laugh at that.

With his ability to absorb surrounding elemental energy and mana, food had become more of a luxury than a necessity. Her threat, in his eyes, was no more terrifying than a kitten baring its fangs—adorable more than anything else.

“All right, all right. I promise—I won’t get into trouble again and make Her Highness worry.”

Rosalia puffed her cheeks and huffed, “Hmph! Don’t flatter yourself. Who said I was worried about you? I’m just afraid the kingdom will lose a promising asset like you, that’s all! Don’t get the wrong idea!”

And with that, the Third Princess turned sharply, activated a teleportation array, and vanished in the blink of an eye—disappearing from Alan’s sight.

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