Jin- woo voice split the clouds. The entire sky went dark. Shadows stretched from every corner of the land to point toward the castle.
"All of you—invalids of the Lostbelt—those who would raise a blade against your queen… GATHER. Before the castle. NOW. That is my decree."
And then—silence.No resistance. The chaos ended before it could even begin.
Thousands of fairies turned, eyes wide, hearts struck dumb. They moved. In submission. In absolute, unquestioning fear.
Morgan stared at him, stunned. The tension in her body melted into awe. Her lips parted slightly, and a faint breath escaped.
My husband… she thought, hand slowly rising to her chest. He didn't even raise a finger. No spell. No threats. Just a voice—and all of them stopped. That's not power… that's sovereignty. They were ready to betray me… but one sentence from him, and they're marching in obedience.
Her heart raced. Not with fear—but with something unfamiliar and overwhelming.
Incredible… absolutely incredible.
Jin-Woo's eyes shimmered with a deep violet glow as he stepped forward—each footfall resonating across the courtyard like a sovereign's drum. The world seemed to hold its breath. The grass no longer swayed. The clouds above the castle thickened into silence.
Thousands of fairies knelt—those who had been moments from revolt now frozen in place by a force they couldn't even name. Among them stood Aurora, head of the Wind Clan, her once-arrogant gaze now guarded. Spriggan, proud commander of the Earth Clan, clenched his fists but did not move. Their forces had already bowed. Their words meant nothing now.
Jin-Woo looked down at them with a gaze devoid of wrath—but full of judgment.
Then his voice broke the stillness. "Melusine."
She stepped forward at once. "Yes, my lord."
He gestured toward the kneeling Aurora. "If I kill your wife, -aurora- will you be sad?"
Morgan's eyes flicked toward Melusine in silence, curious, yet still.
Melusine hesitated. Her throat tightened. But she did not falter.
"I know what she's done," she said quietly. "But… if possible—spare her."
Jin-Woo's head tilted. "Alright,"
he said plainly. "That means it's not too complicated."
And then, he walked forward. The crowd parted like a sea of trembling leaves before a storm. The weight of his presence crushed hesitation before it could take form. His steps took him directly in front of the rebel leaders.
One fairy knight among them—bold, or perhaps stupid—glared up at him through clenched teeth.
"Kill me or release me, shadow monster," the knight spat. "But don't waste my time with talk."
Jin-Woo stopped. His gaze did not waver. His voice—calm, even—carried the weight of a galaxy behind it.
"There is much talk," he said softly, yet every soul heard it.
"And I have listened. Through worlds… and universes… and time."
"Now I shall talk. And you shall listen."
Jin-Woo turned his gaze to Morgan for only a moment.
"I'm going to reveal one of your secrets," he said calmly. "Let me show you how to make them kneel with no choice left."
Morgan, though tense, nodded. "Do what you must. I want to learn… from my husband."
He faced the kneeling crowd of fairies—traitors, doubters, nobles. Then he raised his hand.
"They say reality is cruel," Jin-Woo murmured. "But it's better to force it into their hearts."
A single command. A pulse through his shadows.
And then—every fairy present—was stabbed with the truth.
Not pain. But memory.
The true memory.
—Once, six fairies were chosen to forge the Holy Sword to save the world. But they were lazy. They refused.
—Because of their failure, the alien Velber destroyer, Sefar, annihilated almost all life. Only Avalon survived.
—Gaia sent the god Cernunnos to punish the fairies, but it showed mercy instead. It gave them a place to live—on its own body—along with one last human girl.
—That girl became its priestess… and wife.
—But the fairies betrayed them both.
—They poisoned Cernunnos. Killed it. And built Fairy Britain on its corpse.
—Then, they dismembered the priestess. Six immortal pieces. Used her to make artificial humans who died at 30.
—And to cover up this sin, they rewrote history. They buried the gods. They buried truth. For over 10,000 years.
—Until Morgan became Queen and found out everything. And kept the burden to herself.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Throats choked. Eyes widened. Some fell to their knees, shivering.
And Jin-Woo stepped forward.
"Now…" he said, voice low and thunderous. "Do you fear death?"
"…Judgment is knocking on your door."
Spriggan shot up, his voice shrill with desperation. "Don't listen to him! He's lying! He's manipulating you—!"
SHHHHRRRRRRKK—[Force Drain] A ripple of void shimmered through Jin-Woo's palm.
Spriggan gasped mid-sentence as tendrils of invisible energy clamped onto his very soul. His scream was short. Choked.
Within seconds, he was drained—life, magic, body—everything sucked into nothingness.
His form collapsed into a dry husk. Then, even that turned to dust.
A sharp gust carried his remains away.
The gathered fairies screamed. Some fell back. Some vomited. But none dared move.
Aurora stood, teeth clenched, her pride stung more than her heart. Her voice rang out, tinted with rage .
"No forgiveness in you, I see. You're no different from Morgan."
Jin-Woo didn't even flinch.
"Your Lostbelt is much nicer than the First Era of Thrones," he said coldly. "Where everything was kill or be killed. You still had sunlight, food, homes. But this…"
He raised a hand—and the air bent around him. "This is no longer Proper Human History. And Tolerable "
Behind him, the space twisted. One by one, they emerged:
Bellion — wings folded, black armor glowing with anticipation.
Beru — his insectoid form twitching with hunger and glee.
Igris — silent, blade already drawn.
Tusk — orb of avarice glowing with sorcery, eyes calm and calculating.
Greed — hunched and twitching .
And Kaisel — the massive black wyvern, who roared once, shaking the ground.
And behind them—millions.
Ten million shadow soldiers rose from the abyss that now surrounded the edge of Lostbelt Britain, blanketing the horizon in black.. It was the end.
Jin-Woo stepped forward, gaze now locked onto Aurora and the remaining rebels. His voice dropped, quiet as a whisper—but heard by all.
"Do you fear DEATH ?" "Do you fear the dark abyss—where your sins are laid bare, and no gods will answer your prayers?"
He raised his hand again. Not to strike. But to offer. "…However, I offer you an escape." "But it will cost you everything."
A single, trembling voice from the crowd of fairies broke the silence.
"Do you… want us to forge another Holy Sw—"
Jin-Woo's lips curled. And then he laughed.
"Hehehe… AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
The sound echoed like thunder cracking across world of eternal slumber .
It wasn't joy. It wasn't kindness. It was mockery—laced with something ancient and cruel. A laugh that belonged not to a man, but a Monarch.
And behind him—
All ten million shadow soldiers joined in. Their voices rose like a choir of ghosts, howling with derision. Each laugh layered with scorn, contempt, amusement at the very thought that these fairies—who once failed their god and broke their world—could offer to forge anything for him.
From their ranks, Bellion stepped forward,
"My Liege can create any sword with his power alone," Bellion said, voice like razors. "You insult him by offering a task you failed before."
The air froze. Ten million shadow soldiers fell silent in unison.
Just pure, suffocating hostility—like the entire Lostbelt itself was now being judged by the abyss.
The fairies, all of them, trembled. None dared speak again.
Jin-Woo finally waved a hand.
"That's enough, Bellion," he said, calm once more. "They still have their uses. But not that."
"When I ask something to be made," he said, his tone sharp, unwavering, "you will give one hundred and twenty percent effort. No less."
Aurora, prideful even in fear, narrowed her eyes. "And if we don't?"
Jin-Woo turned to her without blinking.
"Arise."
A pulse of darkness erupted beneath his feet—rushing like a tide toward the ashen remains of Spriggan.
From the dust… it began to shape. Tendrils of shadow wrapped around bone, reforming a twisted silhouette—still recognizable, yet no longer the same.
The figure rose, its face blank, its aura unwavering. A knight of shadow, born from betrayal.
[ Shadow Extraction Successful ]
[ Unit: Spriggan – Rank: Knight ]
The new Spriggan knelt before Jin-Woo in absolute obedience.
Jin-Woo smiled faintly at the notification as if pleased with routine business.
"Then I get the job done myself."
Barghest, standing beside Morgan, gulped hard. Her eyes drifted to Bellion—the towering, silent Grand marshal.
He… he chooses his army, she thought nervously. That means…
Morgan's voice was soft, but filled with awe. "The dead answer his call… with absolute loyalty."
Aurora, still prideful, still defiant, stepped forward with a sneer.
"We fairies don't even need you," she spat. "What you do—this isn't command. It's slavery. You're a worse dictator than Morgan ever was."
Jin-Woo's face was unreadable. Calm. Detached.
"Fine," he said, extending his hand. "Then you're free to do whatever you want."
Aurora, always narcissistic and too proud to back down, sneered and grasped his hand.
That was her mistake.With a flick of his wrist,
Jin-Woo pulled her down—slamming her palm against the stone floor.
Before she could react—He stabbed a thin, gleaming dagger—Knight Killer—straight through the back of her palm , pinning it to the ground.
"AHHHHHH!! WHAT—WHAT THE WHORE—ARE YOU?! MONSTER!!" Aurora screamed, eyes wide with pain and fury.
Jin-Woo stood over her, expression still perfectly calm.
"A choice," he said coldly. "You can pull the knife out… or cut your hand off."
"One being commits only to itself," he whispered. "The other… to a cause."
"Which one are you?"
Aurora trembled, pain rushing up her arm like fire. The blade embedded in the back of her hand pulsed with dark energy—it wasn't just a knife. It was Knight Killer, forged to bind and torment beings like her.
She tried to move. Her fingers twitched.
She grabbed the hilt with her left hand and pulled her palm . But it didn't budge.
The dagger was immovable. Anchored by Jin-Woo's power, it turned her hand into a nailed-down relic of her pride.
Melusine stepped forward, eyes wet. "Jin-Woo, please—"
Morgan raised a hand quickly. "Don't."
Her voice was low, but commanding. She didn't even look at Melusine.
"Right now… Jin-Woo is deadly serious. His judgment has begun. And his entire army is watching her decision."
Outside the throne hall, the land was blanketed by over ten million shadows. Not one of them moved. Not one of them spoke. They were waiting. Watching.
Aurora's breaths were sharp and panicked. She stared at the knife, at her palm—pinned, shaking, throbbing. She knew.She knew the meaning behind it.
If she pulled the knife out—
She accepted submission. Her people would understand: they would die.
But if she removed her hand…
There might still be dignity. Maybe pain. But maybe chance to live itself.
She screamed. A guttural, broken scream—raw with agony and helplessness—as she braced her knee against the ground. Her left hand clutched her right wrist tightly.
"No… no no no—"
But she pulled. A sickening sound—a wet, tearing crack as bone separated, ligaments snapped, and blood gushed out across the floor.
She fell back, gasping, sobbing—clutching her bleeding stump.
Her severed palm still stuck under the knife. Still twitching.
The hall was deathly silent.Every fairy stared.
Aurora held her arm against her chest, her body shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes wide with pain and shame. She didn't say anything.
She didn't need to. Her answer had already been given.
The silence remained—thick and suffocating—until Jin-Woo held out his hand once more.
Aurora, breathing raggedly, extended her blood-soaked, severed wrist toward him. Her severed right hand still lay pinned beneath the Knight Killer. She offered the stump without resistance.
And Jin-Woo… took it. A gesture that was not just symbolic. It was a contract. He smiled. "Great choice."