In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

Under the grace of the Radiant One, this island served as a shield, blocking all the world's evils and chaos.

The brilliant barrier had stood as proof of that sanctity.

Julius had believed with certainty that it could never be broken—but that belief had just been completely shattered.

He could not forget the moment when the shining barrier exploded with a deafening roar.

The scene replayed in his mind.

At first, there had been only a faint disturbance in the distance.

Then, the sky darkened.

He had sensed something approaching—an ominous presence—but couldn't identify what it was.

All he could do was watch as an inexplicable, foreboding shadow cast itself over the island, radiating a force that seemed poised to devour everything.

What reached toward the barrier was a black shadow.

It appeared alive, tendrils like tentacles extending from a single figure, whipping in all directions to strike the shield.

Each impact sent tremors through the wall of light, like massive waves crashing down.

The enormous tendrils slammed into the barrier from all sides, and each time, it seemed as if the shield surrounding the island let out a scream.

Once transparent, the barrier began to crack, splitting and shattering piece by piece.

And at the center of that chaos stood a man.

An old man with black hair and a billowing black robe. Though his appearance was aged, his body, revealed beneath the robe, showed no signs of frailty.

His shoulders were broad and firm, his presence whole and unwavering.

The old man stood right in front of the island's barrier.

Even as chaos tore through the surroundings, he remained rooted to the spot, unmoving.

When the storm of shadowy tendrils battered the barrier with explosive force, he didn't budge.

It was as if all the fear and confusion of the world simply passed him by.

That figure reminded Julius of the one said to have defied the Radiant One to the very end.

As the memory faded, Julius shrank back instinctively, seized by a primal fear.

Something deep in his blood trembled, making him shiver like a leaf in the wind.

The words spoken to him by Bishop Agrippa echoed furiously in his mind:

"Though I hold high rank, Lord Julius, you are a direct descendant of the Radiant One—a noble lineage. That is why I ask in advance for your forgiveness if I show any discourtesy during your training."

Yes.

He was a direct descendant of the Radiant One.

Julius tried to straighten his chest with effort.

In this sacred land, what he should have been feeling was not fear, but awe.

As a descendant of the Radiant One, he had always carried a sense of pride.

He could not afford to cower before heretics like these.

Yet the moment he laid eyes on the two men who had appeared before him, that pride melted away like snow.

"That's him, Grandpa."

A boy who couldn't be more than twenty pointed directly at Julius.

A strange, glowing necklace hung from the youth's neck, emitting light that beamed toward Julius.

He struggled to lift himself with feigned calm—he couldn't let these heretics see him afraid.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to shout.

"You heretics... How dare you set foot on this sacred ground!"

But what escaped his lips was a pitiful squeak, like a frightened mouse.

His trembling wasn't just from their appearance.

Something primal stirred within him—an unexplainable sensation bubbling up from deep inside, like something long dormant in his veins awakening in their presence.

It was a fear that no rational thought could deny.

I have to get to the Bishop. Somehow... I have to run.

But his legs wouldn't move.

Julius stumbled, then collapsed to his knees on the white sand, sobbing in terror.

He couldn't endure it.

Michael let out a scoff as he looked at the trembling youth in front of him.

He couldn't understand why the boy was shaking all over and then suddenly passed out, eyes rolled back.

Alfred looked on with a sneer in his gaze.

The boy's faded blond hair and dull blue eyes reminded him of someone from long ago.

That one reacted the same way back then. Bloodlines do echo, it seems.

Alfred turned his gaze to his grandson, Michael.

With his black hair inherited from Alfred and crimson eyes from his wife, the boy was strikingly handsome and dignified.

He was incomparable to the weakling collapsed on the ground.

At the very least, I won in raising a proper son.

A faint smile tugged at Alfred's lips.

Just then, Drake approached with the sailors, having moved the people who had almost been used as live sacrifices onto the magical vessel.

"Hm? There's another priest here. Shall I kill him?"

Drake's hands were soaked with the blood of monks and priests.

Michael shook his head to stop him.

"No. This one will be useful later. Bind him and hide him in the deepest part of the ship. Miaomiao, I'm counting on you to keep watch over him."

Miaomiao swiped her claws through the air and grinned.

[Don't worry! I'll make sure he never escapes—I'll keep a close eye on him.]

Marcus was clearly agitated.

[Why can't we just kill him, Michael? If not that, can I at least be the one to watch him? I can't stand priests of the Radiant One. I want to wring the necks of every last one of them.]

Michael tried to soothe him.

"What are you saying, Marcus? Did you forget that Edward from our territory is also a priest of the Radiant One?"

Marcus, recalling Edward's kind eyes, lowered his head.

[Well… Edward is definitely nice. He taught me how to tie ribbons, and he showed me a pretty book with gold trimming. So, not all Radiant priests are bad? Even this one?]

Michael shook his head firmly.

"No, this guy is definitely a bad one. You need to learn how to see a person's true nature, Marcus. That way, you won't go through something like that ever again."