The royal palace, a sprawling testament to Oakhaven's might and prosperity, felt less like a sanctuary and more like a gilded cage. Liam observed King Alaric and Princess Lyra with a wary eye. The King's gratitude was genuine, his demeanor benevolent, a stark contrast to the cold directive from the System that still burned in Liam's mind: Eliminate King Alaric. The dissonance was growing unbearable. He stayed in the palace, a guest, yet truly a prisoner of his own conflicting imperatives.
Four years vanished in the relentless pursuit of power, a blur of pushing the limits of his maxed-out level, monster hunts, and a constant, insidious struggle to rein in the volatile urges of the Dark Force. It coiled within Liam, a hungry entity whispering promises of raw, unbridled destruction. He had mastered its outward manifestations—the shadows, the life-draining touch—but the internal pull towards chaos was a battle waged every moment. He knew he was powerful, perhaps dangerously so, and the lingering questions about the System's true purpose gnawed at him.
On the third day of his stay, as Liam stood in the grand hall, the ethereal System screen blazed with an urgent, terrifying update:
> URGENT ORDER!
> * Objective: Eliminate King Alaric.
> * Time Limit: 10 Days.
> * Failure Condition: Elimination of Princess Lyra.
>
Liam's blood ran cold. The System was pushing him, raising the stakes. It wasn't just about killing the King; it was about Lyra's life. He clenched his fists, the Dark Force thrumming angrily beneath his skin. This wasn't a game; it was a ruthless manipulation, and he was the pawn.
The days that followed were a torment. He watched Lyra, a vibrant, intelligent young woman, often seen in the Royal Archives, engrossed in ancient texts, or discussing strategies with her father. The more he observed her, the more the System's decree felt like an abhorrent perversion. He began to search for loopholes, for ways to defy the order without condemning Lyra. He visited the royal library, feigning interest, secretly searching for anything that might hint at the System's true nature or King Alaric's hidden flaws. He found nothing but a wise, just ruler and a curious, compassionate daughter.
The tenth day arrived, a suffocating shroud of dread. Liam felt the oppressive weight of the deadline, the System's patience wearing thin. He remained close to Lyra, his senses extended, searching for any sign, any way to avert the catastrophe he knew was coming.
It came with shocking swiftness. As Lyra was walking through the palace gardens, admiring a rare blooming flower, the air rippled. A grotesque, malformed creature, wreathed in dark flames, materialized from thin air. Its eyes glowed with malevolent hunger. This was no ordinary beast; it was a demon, its power radiating with a cold, otherworldly malice.
"The King's bloodline is a blight," the demon hissed, its voice like scraping stone. "A disruption to the true order. Its branch shall be pruned."
Before Liam could react, before the royal guards could even draw their swords, the demon lunged. Its flaming claws raked across Lyra. She screamed, a sound of pure agony, as the demon's unnatural fire consumed her, engulfing her in a searing inferno. Her body began to blacken, the sweet scent of burning flesh filling the air.
Liam felt a primal scream tear from his own throat. Rage, raw and unadulterated, surged through him, but it was mixed with a crushing, agonizing helplessness. He had all this power—the Dark Force, unmatched strength—yet he couldn't stop this. His father, the Healer, who could mend all wounds, who brought life—where was that gift now? A desperate, silent plea formed in his mind, echoing his father's legacy.
In that moment of profound despair, as Lyra's life ebbed away in agonizing flames, something within Liam snapped. His internal screen, which had glowed with Dark Force notifications, now flashed wildly. A searing pain, yet somehow also a profound warmth, erupted from the core of his being. It was his father's gift, long dormant, now responding to his desperate, life-or-death need. His status screen immediately updated, a new line glowing with emerald light.
> Liam – Level 100 (MAX)
> * Title: Assassin
> * Strength: 500
> * Agility: 500
> * Endurance: 500
> * Magic: 500
> * Dark Force: 250
> * Green Attributes: 10 (Restoration - Tier 1)
> * Health: 25000/25000
> New Ability Unlocked: Full Body Recovery (Tier 1)
>
A blinding, emerald light erupted from Liam, pushing back the demon's dark flames. He didn't think; he simply acted, driven by an instinct more profound than any System command. He plunged his hands into the demonic fire consuming Lyra, ignoring the searing pain, and willed the emerald light to flow from him into her.
The effect was instantaneous and miraculous. The demonic flames flickered, hissed, and were extinguished. The black charring on Lyra's skin vanished, her wounds knitting closed, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. Her ragged breath smoothed, and the color returned to her face. She was whole, completely healed, but utterly unconscious, as if her body had shut down from the shock of the attack and the miraculous recovery.
The demon shrieked, enraged, its attack foiled, its plans ruined. It recoiled violently from the emerald light, as if burned by its purity. With a final, frustrated snarl, the creature shimmered and then vanished entirely, leaving no trace but the lingering scent of ozone. Liam stared at the empty space where the demon had been, unsure if it had been banished, destroyed, or merely retreated, baffled by this new, unexpected power. He hadn't actively killed it.
Royal guards, alerted by the commotion, finally arrived, but the threat was gone, leaving only the unconscious princess and Liam, an aura of spent power still clinging to him. Before they could react, Liam scooped Lyra gently into his arms. Her skin was warm, her breathing even. He focused, channeling his Dark Force, and with a silent, instantaneous "Dark Force Jump," he vanished from the garden, reappearing moments later within the quiet solitude of his own room in the palace.
He laid Lyra carefully on the bed, her golden hair fanned out around her serene face. He sat beside her, his gaze unwavering, waiting. The System's ticking clock, the King's life, Lyra's fate—it all weighed heavily on him. He simply watched her, the new emerald glow of his power still tingling in his hands.
Hours passed. The palace buzzed with the aftermath of the attack, but within Liam's room, there was only stillness. Finally, Lyra's eyelids fluttered. Her eyes, wide and intelligent, slowly focused on Liam. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she sat up, her hand instinctively going to her chest. She looked at herself, then at him.
"You… you saved me again," she whispered, her voice husky with awe and gratitude. "First from that brute Kael, and now… from that." A shiver ran through her, but it was quickly replaced by an intense curiosity. Her gaze fixed on him. "I remember the fire, the pain… and then… a blinding green light. It was a miracle. Show me. Show me both of your magic attributes. I saw the darkness, and then… that light."
Liam hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He lifted his hand, and the dark tendrils of the Dark Force coalesced around his fingers, swirling like miniature shadows. Then, with a thought, he willed it to recede, and a soft, emerald glow, warm and vibrant, pulsed from his palm. Lyra watched, utterly captivated, her eyes tracing the mesmerizing play of light and shadow.
"What… what is this?" she breathed, leaning closer, her fascination overriding any fear. "You have both. The light and the darkness. How is this possible?"
Liam stood there, the emerald glow still faintly outlining his hands, the dark tendrils of energy still retreating into his form. He had defied the System, and in doing so, unlocked a new, terrifying, yet miraculous power.
Lyra, regaining her composure, fixed him with an intense gaze. "Liam, we need to understand this. My father's archives, the most restricted sections… I need to research magical lineages, demonic incursions, and… these rare dual-attribute wielders. There's a connection, I'm certain of it." Her eyes burned with a newfound determination, a shared purpose forming between them in the aftermath of the demon's attack. The System's ultimatum had been shattered, not by compliance, but by a desperate, life-giving surge of an ancient, unexpected power.