Free Web NovelChapter 157: The Handshake of Inheritance
"And what will it cost me?" Max asked without beating around the bush.
"You seem eager to pass this power, this throne, to somebody else," Max continued, his eyes locked onto John’s. "What for? I crave power with all my heart. I am always searching for ways to make my magic stronger, to make myself stronger, but if that power shackles me, then I don’t need it."
The way his determined eyes stared forward, the way his expression carried no greed blind enough to swallow anything placed before him, made John’s smile soften slightly.
For a moment, John said nothing.
He only looked at Max, and in that silence, something strangely satisfied passed through his eyes, as if the man before him was exactly the kind of person he had been waiting for. Not someone noble. Not someone pure. Not someone who would lie and pretend he wanted this power for peace or justice. Max wanted power because he wanted power, but he was not stupid enough to wear chains just because they were golden.
And that, perhaps, was why John could not let him go. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓
"I’ll be honest with you," John said at last, his voice gentle, but the smile on his lips no longer looked playful. "This power will cost you everything if you handle it wrong."
Max’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"That said," John continued, lifting one hand as if to calm him before his suspicion sharpened further, "you have to choose your own fate and your own path, and I respect that. If you do not want this throne, I will not force you to take it. I simply wish to be free from the endless suffering of remembering my loved ones who had long passed on to the afterlife, while only I remain here like a shadow that forgot how to disappear."
His gaze slowly drifted away from Max, toward somewhere far beyond the blue sky, the tree, and this strange peaceful world they sat in.
"And a certain someone is still waiting for you outside that throne room."
His eyes grew distant and longing when he said that.
"You mean Saelunith?" Max asked.
John’s body trembled slightly.
It was small, barely noticeable, but Max saw it.
"You’re that man from the song," Max said, his voice lowering a little as pieces slowly began to connect in his mind. "You’re the one she has been waiting for forever, aren’t you?"
"That’s..." John’s fingers tightened around the mug, and for the first time, that strange, careless smile of his seemed unable to fully rise. "It is a long story I am not prepared to talk about."
"Now that I think about it, we do look somewhat similar," Max said, studying him more carefully. The long black hair, the shape of his face, the strange pull Saelunith had felt toward him from the very beginning, all of it suddenly felt far less random. "Why is that?"
"Coincidence, dear friend," John said, turning his head toward the distant horizon before Max could read too much from his expression. "Just a coincidence."
Max did not believe him.
Not even slightly.
But John did not give him time to dig deeper.
"So, what do you say?" John asked, forcing his voice back into that lighter tone, though the sadness around him had not fully disappeared. "Do you accept, or not?"
"I’d be a fool to accept it," Max said.
John’s expression fell.
His eyes grew even more distant and sad as he looked toward the horizon, and for a moment, he looked less like a Spirit Sovereign and more like a man who had already expected disappointment but still allowed himself to hope.
"But I’d be even more of a fool to pass on such an opportunity," Max added with a laugh, extending his hand forward.
John blinked.
Then he looked at Max’s hand.
"A handshake?" His lips slowly curled into a smile again, the old amusement returning to his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. "A very human-like agreement."
He reached forward and took Max’s hand.
The moment their palms met, the air between them shifted, and John’s eyes sharpened slightly, as if even in this simple gesture, he could feel that Max was not someone ordinary. After all, he had passed the throne’s trials, and now, in John’s eyes, he had passed the final one as well. He had been offered power, questioned the cost, refused the chains, and still reached for the opportunity with both greed and caution.
"This magic that I am about to pass to you requires a bloodline to activate to its fullest extent," John said, his fingers tightening around Max’s hand as faint spirit light began to gather around them. "Normally, that would be a problem. A very big one, actually."
Max’s gaze sharpened.
John’s smile widened.
"But with your power, dear Max, it should not be a problem, now would it?"
"You’re more scary than I imagined," Max smirked, his fingers tightening slightly around John’s hand. "I accept your inheritance. I shall take good care of it."
The second those words echoed out, something pulsed through their joined hands.
At first, it was only warmth, a faint heat spreading into Max’s palm, but then it grew stronger, hotter, until John’s hand felt like molten lava wrapped around his fingers. Max’s expression stiffened, his jaw clenching as the heat crawled up his arm, entering his veins, his bones, his Magic Soul, and something far deeper than any part of himself he could properly name.
Memories of a distant past flooded into his mind.
A life he had never lived.
Skills he had never trained.
A world he had never imagined could exist.
All of it played inside his head at once, not like simple information being passed to him, but like another existence had been poured into his soul. He saw ancient forests before the elves had ever named them, spirits dancing beneath moons that no longer existed, wars fought without steel, kings made from vows instead of crowns, and countless invisible beings kneeling before a throne of wood, vines, and light.
Max’s eyes widened, but he could not pull his hand away.
The inheritance was already entering him.
And John only smiled, watching him with a strange mix of relief, sorrow, and amusement, as if he had finally tricked fate into choosing someone else to carry the burden he had held for far too long.
