The next moment, a black mist swirled behind him.
Faint golden branches began to weave behind him, forming a throne constructed of golden boughs.
Shiayar sat atop the throne woven from branches, lost in thought.
So, am I truly the master of this world?
According to the Knowledge Holy Chalice, this black mist should be the gathering place of the ancient organization, Golden Dawn.
And now, it's been usurped by me?
Shiayar experimented for a moment.
This was not a physical world, but merely the source of Spirituality itself.
Yet, he truly existed within it, wielding a great deal of Authority.
After a long while, Shiayar finished experimenting and lightly tapped the armrest of the golden throne beneath him with his hand.
In that case, my plans in Escarnia might just become a lot more convenient.
From beginning to end, Shiayar had not forgotten that he was still caught within a twisted history.
And now, his primary goal was to correct that erroneous history.
