The Anomaly's Path

Chapter 179: Laws, Lies, and Sovereign Eyes

Slap.

"Ow..."

Slap.

"Son of a..."

Slap.

"Stop! You crazy old man, I’m awake! I’m literally awake!"

I shot upright, or at least, I tried to. The moment my body left the floor, my brain waited for a big, hot line of pain to cut across my chest. I braced myself for the feeling of broken glass in my lungs, squeezed my eyes shut, and...

Nothing.

I blinked fast, clearing the blur from my eyes. I was not dead. I was not even in pain. I was still sitting on the cold metal floor of the training hall, right in the middle of the big, burned hole we had made during our family bonding time.

Slap.

"Yep, definitely awake," my grandfather, Zephyr von Celestial, said cheerfully. He was crouched right next to me, his big gloved hand hanging in the air like he was ready to slap me again. "A bit loud for a patient, but the reflexes are there."

"I am going to bite your hand off," I hissed, quickly scrambling backward away from his reaching palm. "Stop it, you crazy old man! I told you I’m awake!"

"Oh, you are?" Zephyr grinned, his ocean-blue eyes dancing with mischief as he tilted his head. He casually tried to aim another light slap at my cheek just to double-check. "Let’s be absolutely certain. Head injuries can be tricky, kid."

"I am perfectly fine!" I snapped, pushing his hand away.

I rubbed my chest in genuine confusion. I remembered the impact.

I remembered feeling my ribs break like cheap glass, my muscles tear, and my mana channels burn from pushing too hard. When my core hit empty, my bloodline’s healing should have left me to heal at the slow, painful rate of a normal person.

It should have taken hours just to breathe without coughing blood.

But right now?

My ribs felt fine. My muscles were fine. Even my dry, cracked mana core was full again, beating with a steady, quiet flow of new energy. It was the first time I had ever pushed my mana channels that hard, yet there was not a single scar left inside me.

I looked down at myself, then squinted at my grandfather. "...What happened after I passed out? Why am I not a pile of meat?"

Zephyr stood up, brushing off his long blue coat with an easy, annoying grace. He waved his hand like what he was about to say was no big deal. "Oh, that? I gave you a Grand-grade potion. Do not look so shocked. It fixes near-death injuries and fills your core in under ten minutes. Very rare. Costs about as much as a small noble’s house."

My eyes widened. "A Grand-grade potion? Just like that? Are you serious?"

"Please," Zephyr scoffed, rolling his eyes as he walked toward the edge of the hole.

"Do you think our family is a bunch of penniless mercenaries? We are one of the Four Great Houses of the human domain. If a Sovereign can’t waste a high-tier potion on his own grandson after accidentally throwing him through a wall, we might as well hand our treasury over to the Astra Union."

Right.

I sometimes forgot how rich the Celestial family really was. To me, a Grand-grade potion was a legend. To this old man, it was just a normal expense.

"Though..." Zephyr stopped, turning his sharp blue eyes back toward me. His playful grin was gone, replaced by a curious look that made my skin crawl.

"The potion only did half the work, kid. Your body... it has a strange reaction to getting hurt. The moment the potion touched your tongue, your body did not just accept the healing. It forced it to happen faster. It is some kind of change. I don’t think it has anything to do with our family’s bloodline, either."

Zephyr leaned down slightly, his gaze trying to pierce straight into my soul. "Just what the hell are you, brat? What happened to you in that trial? Did you kill a god or something?"

I kept my face completely blank, but internally, my mind was racing. My bloodline. The Continuum Bloodline wasn’t an inherited trait from the Celestial family. It was a gift from the Oldest Watcher — It was a rough, stubborn defense my own body had built just to keep me alive.

I often forgot how strange my abilities looked to other people — even to a Sovereign.

"...I just don’t know how to stay down," I muttered, pushing the thought aside as I stood up and stretched. My joints popped cleanly.

I looked at my hands, the memory of that final, terrifying strike flashing vividly behind my eyes. The fog in my mind was gone. The path was there.

"Grandpa...," I said, my voice dropping its sarcastic edge, becoming completely serious. "I saw it."

Zephyr blinked. "Saw what?"

"Your strike," I continued, taking a step forward.

"Right before the impact, when everything slowed down... I looked past the wooden sword. I didn’t see a piece of wood, and I didn’t see raw mana. I saw something else. It was barely a glimpse — I don’t even know if it counts as a proper look — but I felt it. It was like a rule. An absolute control. It was... your Will. Your Intent. Something like that. They were the exact same thing, right?"

The silence that followed was deafening.

Zephyr’s entire posture froze.

The casual, relaxed aura of a playful grandfather completely evaporated in a single second.

Before I could even register his movement, he crossed the ten-step distance between us like a ghost. His heavy hands slammed onto my shoulders, gripping me so hard I thought he might break me again.

"Are you sure about what you felt?" Zephyr demanded, his voice dangerously low, his eyes flashing with a wild, piercing intensity that made the air inside the hall turn to ice. "Are you joking with me, Leo? Look me in the eyes. Did you really see it?"

I stepped back slightly, utterly confused and surprised by his massive overreaction.

"Uhh... well... yeah? I’m sure. I’m not joking. I said it was barely a glimpse. My eyes literally burst from the strain of looking at it. But it was there. It wasn’t just a physical swing meant to cut... it was a rule that said the space must be split."

Zephyr slowly let go of my shoulders. He stepped back, his hands dropping to his sides as he stared at me like I was something he had never seen before. For a long, quiet minute, the old man was lost in his own thoughts, whispering things I could not hear.

What the hell is wrong with him? I thought, shifting my weight uncomfortably. Why did he suddenly turn so serious? Did I say something wrong?

Then, without warning, the old man threw his head back and let out a loud, booming laugh that echoed off the walls.

"Hahaha! Unbelievable! Of course! Why the hell should I even be shocked at this point?" Zephyr wiped a tear from his eye, shaking his head in absolute disbelief.

Great, I thought, giving him a completely deadpan look. Did the old man finally lose his mind? Well... he is part of my family, I guess. Mental instability probably runs in our blood.

"Do you have any idea what you just said, kid?" Zephyr asked, his laughter finally dying down into a wide, proud grin. "You said you saw Will and Intent acting as one. That isn’t something a low ranker says easily. Hell, most Grandmasters live their entire lives without ever understanding what that looks like."

He walked over to a stone bench and looked back at me.

"Listen to me carefully, Leo. Normal rankers fight with mana and physical technique. They draw mana from their core and swing their swords with their bodies. That is enough for Initiate to Grandmaster. But when you cross into Transcendent, the world changes. To be a Transcendent means you partially step into the domain of demigods. Your will starts to matter more than your muscles. And to be a Sovereign? It means you act as a living law. Your word becomes reality. Your strike carries intent, not just force."

Zephyr raised his right hand, and the air in the room began to hum.

"Sovereign power works at the level of concepts and authority, not raw strength. We don’t just hit harder or move faster; we overwrite reality with our own existence. When I swing a sword, I am declaring how the world should be, and the world has no choice but to listen. If I decide that a space belongs to me, the very air becomes a weapon against anyone else. This is exactly why there are fewer than ten Sovereigns in existence across the entire world."

He looked at me with a gravity that made my chest tighten.

"The gap between Grandmaster and Sovereign isn’t a matter of training harder, Leo. It is a fundamental shift in what kind of being you are. Most people who try to force their way into this realm die in the attempt — their very souls get violently crushed under the weight of trying to impose their will on a world that does not want to bend. Breaking through requires a mind and a will stronger than the laws of nature themselves."

I swallowed hard, the sheer scale of his explanation hitting me like a physical wave.

"What you saw during my strike," Zephyr continued, his voice softening just a fraction,

"was the path of Will. But let’s get one thing straight, brat — you didn’t perceive it because you are ready to use it. You perceived it because your sensory skill forced you to recognize when an Intent was being used against you. It opened the path for you to understand what true Will looks like."

I stood there, staring at him as his words slowly sank into my brain. I mean, yeah, sure, I already knew what ’will’ was on a basic level, but that was just playing with words. This was different. I actually... felt it.

It was like something crushing the universe.

A sudden, cold feeling washed over me. I looked at the big, broken hole under my boots, then looked up at my grandfather.

"Hey... Grandpa," I started, my voice catching slightly as a nervous sweat broke out on the back of my neck. "If that strike was really that absurdly powerful... does that mean if I had actually failed to redirect it, I was genuinely a goner? Like, dead-dead?"

I took a step closer, looking at his face for any sign of a joke. "I mean... you were totally joking about the whole ’block or die’ thing, right? You surely wouldn’t just let your only handsome, incredibly talented grandson actually die over a training session, right?"

Zephyr froze. He slowly looked away, looking everywhere in the room except at me, and let out a weak, nervous laugh.

"Ah... haha... well, you see..." Zephyr rubbed the back of his neck, coughing into his fist. "I mean... I did have that Grand-grade potion ready in my pocket the whole time, didn’t I? So, technically..."

Are you fucking kidding me?!

I knew it! This old bastard was actually intending to kill me!

"You absolute psycho!" I yelled, my hands clenching into fists. "You did not have a plan at all! If my bloodline had not saved me, you would have had to explain to Dad why I was scraped off the wall with a shovel!"

"You are alive," Zephyr waved his hand, ignoring my anger as he turned back toward the heavy metal doors.

"The important thing is that you survived, you learned something, and my expensive potion didn’t go to waste. Now, go back to your room and rest, Leo. Your mind is running on a thousand different tracks..."

He turned around, walking toward the heavy metal doors of the hall.

"...And don’t look so sour, brat. Your mind is running on a thousand different tracks right now, and if I dump any more high-level theory into your head, your core will probably reject the potion out of pure confusion. Focus on what you already have. I noticed your basic form is brilliant, but you haven’t completely mastered the fluid transitions of your sword art yet. Control what is yours first."

He waved over his shoulder as the heavy doors began to open. "If you ever need to ask me anything, you know where to find me. We are family, after all."

"Yeah," I muttered, watching his long dark blue coat leave into the hallway. "...Family."

I stood alone in the ruined training hall for a long moment.

My body was perfectly healed, but my mind felt heavier than ever. Sovereigns, concepts, living laws, and an absolute manifestation of will... there were entirely too many things spinning through my head.

I let out a long, exhausted sigh, sheathing my katana with a quiet click.

First things first, I thought, rubbing my empty stomach as I slowly walked out of the arena. I need to find some food. If I went through an attempted murder just to end up eating academy rations, I’m going to start a riot.

_

Author’s Note

Potion Ranks: freёwebnovel.com

Low-grade — basic healing, minor mana restoration. Common and cheap.

Mid-grade — faster healing, better mana recovery. Standard for soldiers and adventurers.

High-grade — serious wound treatment, significant mana boost. Expensive. freēwebnovel.com

Grand-grade — near-fatal wounds, major mana restoration. Rare and costly.

Legendary-grade — can save someone on the brink of death. Extremely rare.

Divine-grade — essentially miracles in a bottle. Almost mythical.