Author's Note: It's sequel to The Lazy Genius With 999x system. So have to read prequel first to understand this story as this one contains spoiler.
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The Monarch Palace was quiet in a way that felt unnatural.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet that came from stability, nor the dignified stillness of a place that had nothing to fear—but the kind that made even marble seem like it was holding its breath.
The palace itself was carved entirely from blue marble, an impossible stone that reflected light like calm water. Every pillar shimmered faintly, etched with runes so old that even history had given up trying to name their creators. The ceiling resembled a frozen sky, constellations glowing softly, shifting just enough to remind anyone who looked up that this place was alive.
At the heart of it all sat the ruler of Earth.
Monarch Ark Sama reclined on his throne—not lazily, but comfortably, as if the throne had been designed around his posture rather than the other way around. His presence was overwhelming, yet strangely warm. The kind of authority that didn't need to shout to be heard.
He was in the middle of sipping tea when—
Bang.
The massive blue doors burst open.
A minister stumbled in, robes slightly disheveled, breath uneven. His steps echoed far louder than they should have in a palace this vast.
Ark Sama didn't even flinch.
"…You know," the Monarch said mildly, lifting his teacup again, "if you keep entering like that, one day the doors will file a complaint."
The minister froze mid-step.
"I—I deeply apologize, Esteemed Monarch!" he said hastily, dropping to one knee. "This servant has committed a grave breach of decorum."
Ark Sama waved a hand. "If decorum mattered that much, I wouldn't allow you in my palace at all. Get up. You look like you ran here from the edge of the world."
The minister stood, still visibly shaken.
Minister Roy was not new to crises. He had overseen continental wars, system collapses, divine negotiations, and one particularly awkward banquet involving dragons and cutlery.
Yet right now, his face had gone pale.
Ark Sama finally set the teacup down.
"Alright," he said, tone light but eyes sharp. "This is the expression people wear when something important happens. Go on."
Roy swallowed.
"Esteemed Monarch… a magic signature has been detected."
Ark Sama raised an eyebrow. "You're going to have to be more specific. Magic signatures pop up every second. Some idiot tries to summon a demon goat, someone else awakens a useless blessing—"
"This one," Roy interrupted, then immediately winced at his own boldness, "is… that one."
The air shifted.
Not violently. Not dramatically.
But the constellations on the ceiling paused.
Ark Sama leaned forward slightly.
"…Where?"
"In the Observer's Library."
Silence.
Then—
Ark Sama laughed.
Not loudly. Not mockingly. It was a quiet, almost boyish laugh, like someone had just told him a long-awaited joke.
"So," he said, resting his chin on his hand, "he's finally moving again."
Roy blinked.
"…Esteemed Monarch?"
Ark Sama's smile widened. "I was starting to think he'd decided to take an eternal nap. You're sure it's his signature?"
"Yes," Roy said firmly. "There is no mistake. Even diluted, even distorted—it matches perfectly."
"Good," Ark Sama said. "Very good."
He leaned back, looking genuinely pleased.
"Then this means he's close."
Roy hesitated. "Should… should we contact him immediately?"
Ark Sama tilted his head. "How?"
"This servant believes that if you invoke Monarch Authority, you could call upon the Observer directly. From there—"
"No."
The refusal was immediate.
Roy stiffened. "Esteemed Monarch?"
Ark Sama shook his head. "That would be a waste."
"A… waste?"
"Yes. Monarch Authority isn't something you use just because you're impatient." He tapped the armrest of his throne. "Every invocation ripples across reality. You don't ring a bell that loud unless the house is on fire."
"But if he is already involved with the Observer—"
"Then he'll come on his own."
Ark Sama's eyes softened slightly.
"He always does."
Roy didn't argue further. He had learned long ago that when Ark Sama said something with that kind of certainty, it wasn't optimism—it was experience.
"…Very well," Roy said. "Then this servant will order continued observation only."
"Good."
Ark Sama reached for his teacup again, then paused mid-motion.
"Oh," he said casually, "since we're talking about troublesome things… what's the situation at Vija Magical Academy?"
Roy's shoulders tensed.
"…Which matter, Esteemed Monarch?"
"The death," Ark Sama replied. "The one involving the system user."
Roy exhaled slowly.
"Ah. That."
Ark Sama frowned slightly. "Why do you look like you just bit into a lemon?"
Roy adjusted his glasses. "Because the matter refuses to become simple."
Ark Sama sighed. "Nothing ever does."
He thought for a moment. "What was the student's name again?"
Roy answered without hesitation.
"Esteemed Monarch, his name was Jay Arkwell."
Ark Sama's fingers stopped.
"…Right," he said quietly. "That one."
There was no immediate reaction. No explosion of power. No divine fury.
Just a subtle heaviness.
Ark Sama stared ahead, eyes unfocused.
"So," he said at last, "any chance of reviving him?"
Roy shook his head. "The Monarch Crystal did not react. There was no rejection, no resonance. Which implies…"
"…Natural death," Ark Sama finished.
"Yes."
Ark Sama leaned back fully this time.
"A system user dying naturally," he murmured. "That's rare."
"Extremely," Roy agreed. "Almost unheard of, given how aggressively systems protect their hosts."
Ark Sama chuckled faintly. "Or manipulate them."
Roy did not comment.
Ark Sama's gaze drifted upward to the ceiling again.
"And yet," he said, "I don't like it."
Roy nodded. "Nor do we."
They sat in silence for a few seconds.
Then Ark Sama asked, "If it were possible… who could do it?"
Roy knew what he meant.
He answered carefully.
"Only one being possesses the inherent authority to revive a soul that has already been acknowledged as complete."
Ark Sama closed his eyes.
"…Third monarch."
"Yes."
The title hung in the air.
"Becoming the third in the family to inherit that power," Roy added softly, "and the strongest among them."
Ark Sama opened his eyes again, and this time there was something bittersweet in his smile.
"He really does keep inheriting troublesome things."
Roy allowed himself a small smile as well. "It seems to run in the family."
Ark Sama laughed quietly.
"Hopefully," he said, "he'll be back soon."
His tone shifted—less light, more weight.
"Because things are starting to rot."
Roy's expression darkened. "Yes. The Observer's movements are increasing. Fragmented realities are stabilizing incorrectly. Systems are… behaving oddly."
Ark Sama waved a hand. "We'll handle that later. Or rather—he will."
Roy hesitated. "And if he doesn't arrive in time?"
Ark Sama looked at him.
For a brief moment, the full weight of the ruler of Earth pressed down on the room.
"Then," Ark Sama said calmly, "we do what we always do."
Roy straightened.
"We wait," Ark Sama finished, smiling again. "And hope the kids figure it out before the adults have to step in."
Roy sighed despite himself. "Esteemed Monarch… you truly have too much faith."
Ark Sama lifted his teacup once more.
"No," he said. "Just experience."
The constellations resumed their slow movement.
Outside the palace, the world continued to spin—unaware that its fate was quietly being discussed over tea, blue marble, and a name that refused to stay buried.
And somewhere far away, in a library that watched everything—
Something shifted.