Wang Shu has been in a comatose state for a week, lying motionlessly in bed unaffected by all the hustle and bustle revolving around him.

Following the explosion, Mikel and the servants hurried to check on the two youngsters in the library. His heart dropped upon seeing the devastation the place had suffered because of his son’s actions. The wreckage of his household’s treasured collection of books was beyond saving. the once polished, pristine space was now in shambles as if its destruction was done purposefully to punish him. Generation’s worth of his family’s hard work was annihilated just like that, Mikel’s fury was unimaginable.

At first, he suspected that it was one of his enemies’ doing, after discovering the existence of such a precious place. But then again no one is stupid enough to cross him and even if they were why destroy a treasure when you can have it? If someone had the gal and the strength to infiltrate his defensive measures undetected, causing an explosion would’ve been counterproductive. Certainly, smuggling the rarest manuscripts should’ve been the goal. Or maybe it was a way to divert his attention from something else?

Mikel’s musings were put on hold the moment he spotted his son’s bloody figure sprawled on the ground. Next to whom, Gustave sat on his knees looking frozen.

Mikel’s blood ran cold and stabs of pain assaulted his senses, piercing through his heart repeatedly. He’d be stupid not to figure out what happened by now. There’s no way someone could survive self-detonation.

His son has died. The last of his kin, Mia’s last memory has chosen to leave the world in such a bloody, gruesome way. If not to punish him then why? This is his retribution; surly this morning’s provocation was what broke the dam.   

Mikel wanted to laugh at himself but had no strength to do so. He has no right to grieve his son’s death. He has no right to express the least bit of sadness for that matter. He dropped to his knees, silent tears fell in succession, leaving their scorching tracks on his aged face.

The library was eerily silent, everyone was shocked silly and no one dared to move for a while. It was only following the choked sob of butler Walter that everyone seemed to wake up from their dazed state.

The butler moved shakily to his young master’s corpse and held him in his trembling arms. He used his suit’s sleeves to wipe away the blood on his face, then gently tucked the disarrayed stands of his midnight hair behind his ears. How he wished he could see those beautiful clear blue gems of his one last time. How he wished he could see at least once, the kid’s cheerful smile, a genuinely happy expression, a naughty childish countenance…

He never got to enjoy his already short-spanned life and now he left full of bitterness and grievance.

Each time the butler’s pea-sized tears fell on that hollowed-out face, he would wipe them off and apologize to the motionless body in his arms.

He eventually hugged him close to himself, trying his best to quiet down his loud sobs as to not disturb the petite figure and let him pass on in peace.

Mikel looked on at the butler hugging his child and lowered his eyes to hide the self-mockery in them. Even a servant has more of a right to hold his child than he did.

“young master?!”

The week exclamation had Mikel lift his head abruptly in hope.

Butler Walter had his eyes widened and was looking at Oliver in what could only be described as a genuinely surprised expression. He lowered his head again as if to hear something and then a smile of relief blossomed on his face.

“He’s still breathing! Faintly…. But I could feel it, he’s still alive! Young master is still alive!” he all but shouted at the others, all traces of his usual elegant conduct forgotten in his haste to save his charge.

A beat later, Mikel got to his feet and hurried to his son’s side trying to confirm for himself the actuality of Oliver’s survival. Following which, the entire manor acted as if injected by chicken blood, scurrying over to either call for the priest, prepare hot water and bring over the emergency kit to prolong the young master’s life as per Mikel’s instructions.

When the high priest hurried over, he was surprised, to say the least. No one has ever survived self-detonation before. Unexpectedly, not only is Oliver alive but his condition seems quite stable and subtly improving at that.

The high priest marveled at Oliver’s miraculous feat and proposed to stay at the Elderidge’s manor to care for the kid and simultaneously study his condition hoping to figure out his ‘secret’.

Wang Shu who was recuperating was unaware that his unprecedented case created an uproar in the Nearyn Kingdom. The priest’s discovered that because of the self-detonation, Oliver destroyed his magical core and magical channels, successfully dispersing every bit of magic from his body.

Since that was the case, the venom of the deathbell disease left in his body had nothing to clash with and could only act out its benefits on a non-magic hosting body, the same way it did for their ancestors prior to copulating with the Buryaqi race. Although he would suffer from infertility, his lifespan has been prolonged. Even if he could never practice magic in his lifetime, he who had the deathbell disease could never do so in the first place. One would never miss what he never had.

Oliver was not only the first the survive self-detonation but also the deathbell disease. He challenged death head-on and saved himself from its clutches by the skin of his teeth. Thus Wang Shu unconsciously regained his heaven-defying reputation once more in this strange world only a week after his arrival. His luck and talent could only make one’s teeth itch.