"Huh?"
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
"Huh?"
The three Elves, along with Princess Iris, looked completely disconnected from reality—so overwhelming and tremendous was the shock they had just experienced.
Their minds had quite literally stopped functioning.
Humans, beastmen, Elves... even the gods—despite being fundamentally different—all reacted the same way when faced with something that shattered their wildest conceptions of what was possible.
And right now, the four Elves were paralyzed in a state of complete shock and incomprehension at the sight before them.
They weren't the only ones.
The captain of the royal guard stood just as stunned, his mouth agape, with drool slipping past his lips.
And to everyone's surprise, even Lyrian Solkaris Velmire—self-proclaimed Al Capone—was just as dumbfounded as the others, eyes wide with disbelief.
Given what Lyrian had just done—channeling that red explosion of energy through his eyes—everyone had expected some kind of large-scale destructive technique, or at the very least a devastating attack.
But instead, the result of Absolute 5 was something else entirely.
It wasn't a destructive technique at all... "illogical technique" felt far more appropriate.
The thirty slavers under the command of the bandit leader, along with the so-called elven guardian knight, Kael...
They had vanished. Completely. Without a trace.
No bodies.
No ashes.
Nothing.
As if they had never existed in the first place.
Only five people remained: Lyrian, Princess Iris, the three other Elves, and the bandit leader.
Just "5" souls left standing.
---
"Sweet Jesus..." I muttered under my breath.
What the hell...?
Wait…
What just happened?
Earlier, I felt an immense, blazing energy pouring from my eyes and wrapping around my entire body.
It gave me a sensation of…
How do I even describe it...?
Yes—
It felt like omnipotence.
Like I had the power to decide who or what had the right to exist.
It was… a different kind of energy.
I'm sure of it—just based on what the previous owner of this body knew about mana, this wasn't the same thing.
Even if he couldn't wield it properly, he still had mana within him, like all living beings.
But what I felt earlier…
That was clearly something else.
A power fundamentally different from the mana that the former Lyrian once possessed.
Yet somehow… I could control it.
As if that energy naturally belonged to me, even though I had no idea where it came from.
I didn't know what it could do.
But deep down, I knew one thing:
It was powerful.
Absurdly powerful.
Far beyond the magical aura I had sensed from the Elves back in the cell.
So I gambled.
I threw everything I had into that one shot—launched that mysterious energy straight at Kael and the slavers, hoping it would hurt them. Or better… kill them.
But above all, I wanted to avoid hitting Princess Iris and the three other Elves.
Not because they were a potential source of income, of course. No, no… ahem...
And I definitely didn't want the bandit leader—the first person to ever compliment my eyes—to die either.
No.
I refused to let those five people be harmed.
And maybe it was the adrenaline. Or maybe some divine flash of inspiration…
But without even realizing it, I shouted:
"Absolute 5!"
…Yeah.
That was kind of embarrassing.
But more importantly…
I can't use that power anymore.
There's not even a trace of it left. Only mana flows through me now.
Hmm…
I guess something that terrifying can only be used once.
Not that a proper mafia boss needs anything like that anyway.
I nodded, convinced by my own thoughts.
The bright side?
I could now officially declare this as the greatest mafia-style entrance of all time.
Alright then… let's keep riding this momentum.
---
"I-It's impossible… No… This has to be… a nightmare, right?"
The bandit leader, on his knees, trembled uncontrollably, his eyes locked on the spot where his subordinates had stood just moments ago.
"This can't be real…" Princess Iris whispered, breathless.
The three Elves, frozen in place, wore the exact same expression of absolute disbelief.
And then—slowly, one by one—their eyes shifted toward the source of this overwhelming catastrophe.
A collective shiver ran down their spines.
They all stared, paralyzed, at the childlike silhouette standing silently at the entrance, bathed in crimson-red mana.
Just a boy...
And yet, what they saw was nothing compared to what they felt.
Lyrian gave a theatrical smile and, in a solemn tone, declared:
"A princess's life... deserves at least this much."
Iris collapsed instantly, as if acting on some deep, ancestral instinct—her forehead pressed against the dirt.
"L-Lord Al Copane…" she stammered, her voice shaking with fear.
"It's Al Capone," Lyrian corrected, clearly annoyed at the mispronunciation.
"F-Forgive me… Lord Al Capone!" she cried, nearly shouting.
"I devote my life to you! From this moment on, your will is mine, your orders my commandments! I shall follow your path until the last breath of my pitiful existence!"
The three Elves—who mere hours earlier would've fiercely opposed any act of submission, especially to a human—followed suit without hesitation.
Foreheads pressed against the ground, they shouted in unison, almost frantically:
"Our lives are yours as well, Lord Al Capone!"
In the past, they would've declared that Iris, even disgraced, was still a princess.
That she should never bow before a mortal—much less a child.
But now…
None of that mattered anymore.
In that precise moment, a single, unanimous thought crossed the minds of every conscious witness:
"Whatever happens...
...we must never anger him.
Or we'll vanish into nothingness."
To their eyes, he was no longer a child.
No.
He was a calamity in disguise—a wrathful god cloaked in a ridiculous form, mocking their very existence.
The bandit leader, butt flat on the ground, slowly crawled backward as if facing an abomination no mortal was ever meant to witness.
T-This isn't a human...
I—I have to get out of here…
His thoughts spiraled into madness, completely disconnected from reason.
But just as he tried to get to his feet, a voice broke through the thick tension—responding to the princess's declaration of loyalty:
"Yeah… no thanks. Ahem."
Lyrian gave a fake cough, as if trying to brush away a moment of awkwardness only he seemed to find amusing.
Then his tone shifted.
His voice dropped—deeper, heavier.
Just one word.
"Pathetic."
"Huh?!"
Ugh...
Iris and the three Elves froze like statues, beads of sweat running down their faces.
Even the bandit leader stopped cold, paralyzed, his eyes wild with fear.
Then, with a nervous, almost hysterical laugh, he snapped:
"Hahaha… You want to kill us too, don't you?! You monster!"
But Lyrian didn't even acknowledge him.
He continued, his voice now clear, calm… and ice-cold:
"Have you relinquished the throne?"
"W-What…?"
Princess Iris blinked, disoriented.
She didn't understand why he was asking that now—but she could feel the weight of the question.
He didn't wait.
"I don't like repeating myself."
Iris bowed even lower, her voice trembling:
"No… I-I haven't relinquished it, but—"
"But what?"
Lyrian interrupted, still perfectly composed.
"Ugh… My uncle… He's one of the only two Original Knights left in the world…"
"And?"
"After my father—the former Emperor—died, I was supposed to inherit the throne. But… they deemed me too young, too immature to rule the people."
"And?" Lyrian repeated coldly, arms crossed.
"Public opinion was on his side. He was a war hero, after all, and everyone believed he'd make a better ruler…"
"And?"
Iris clenched her fists, eyes cast downward.
"But… it was all just a pretext. A scheme to seize power for himself… to rule the entire continent of Durevelan alone."
"And?"
"I tried to resist… but they tried to kill me. I barely escaped… and found refuge on the continent of humans and beastkin."
"Hmph."
Lyrian remained unmoved, utterly indifferent.
"But… all of that is behind me now. I will follow you, and—"
"ENOUGH."
His voice cracked through the air—sharp, commanding.
Far too powerful for someone his age.
The atmosphere instantly shifted—heavier, suffocating.
No one dared speak.
The crimson mana pouring from his eyes remained dense, like an overwhelming pressure crushing everything in its path.
"I don't need the weak by my side," he said, his tone ice-cold.
"Your only worth lies in your title. Nothing more than the rightful heir to the throne of Durevelan."
Iris bit her lip. She wanted to respond—but knew better than to speak without permission.
"Hmm…"
Lyrian pretended to ponder for a few seconds, then added calmly:
"If given the chance… would you reclaim what is rightfully yours?"
Iris slowly raised her gaze—trembling.
Her eyes met his—those deep, intense red pupils…
A divine light pouring out, radiating a mana so crushing, it made the very air seem to bend around him.
The question didn't feel like a suggestion.
It felt… like a god offering her a choice.
"I…"
She hesitated.
No… It's impossible…
How could I ever stand against an Original Knight?
In strength and in legitimacy… I'm no match.
He's practically a demigod…
I still remember the monstrous look in my uncle's eyes.
It chilled me to the bone, freezing me in place like prey caught in the gaze of a predator.
But… the being standing before me now…
It was something else.
A creature from another dimension.
With him… maybe…
"I…"
"You need power?"
Lyrian interrupted, his voice calm but cutting.
"I'll give it to you. But only if you prove you deserve it."
The eyes of the four Elves lit up—
with hope… and a barely concealed glint of greed.
She… wanted more than ever to become Empress.
Her entire childhood had been devoted to that goal.
She knew her strengths… but even more so, her weaknesses.
And she knew better than anyone that she was no match for her uncle.
But if there was even the slightest chance…
She would seize it.
"How… How do I prove I deserve it?"
"How?" Lyrian repeated, as if the answer were obvious.
Good question, he thought.
I have no idea.
It's just an excuse to buy time and come up with a plan worthy of getting you back on the throne.
But…
If I say that out loud, I ruin all my charisma.
So… let's play this like a real Don.
Lyrian slowly turned toward the captain of the guard and stepped forward.
"What?! Back off! Don't come near me, monster!!"
But Lyrian ignored the screams and spoke in a perfectly calm tone, as if announcing the weather.
"In this kingdom, I operate under the name Lyrian Solkaris Velmire."
He stopped a few steps from the man, towering over him with all his presence.
"I'll be at the Solkaris Elementary Academy for a while."
Silence.
Then he concluded:
"Find your answer by then."
Ah… shit.
A flash of memory struck him.
According to the previous Lyrian's memories, the entrance exam for that academy is… in two days.
Great. Just when I planned to take my time…tsk...
But after all, a true mafia boss must have a flawless double life.
An impeccable public face.
A hero in the eyes of the people.
And in the shadows… the Don.
A Robin Hood on the surface.
And a shadow emperor behind the curtain.
Lyrian gave a barely perceptible smile.
"The kingdom of Solkaris… will be Al Capone's stage," he murmured.
Ah… my eyesight's failing… is it already midnight?