Emperor's Reckoning

Chapter 1305: The Pig

The massive branches of Yggdrasil swayed gently as the tree chuckled, its voice ancient and amused. "Ah, brewing chaos, indeed. I can already smell the storm." The leaves shimmered as though teasing the winds, heralding the shift in destiny.

Lyon stood with his arms crossed, golden eyes narrowing. "I’ve reunited with almost everyone... except one."

The tree groaned knowingly. "Indeed. And I hear that those tangible beings, your old companions, are already submerging into pools, waiting—longing for their return to flesh."

"I will give them back their bodies," Lyon said firmly.

"Ah, filial piety," the World Tree mused with a playful hum. Its leaves whispered like soft laughter. "A rare thing in an age like this."

Lyon’s expression darkened. "Where’s the pig?" His voice carried a demanding edge. "You said he’d find me. What’s keeping him?"

"Why the rush?" Yggdrasil teased, branches swaying leisurely. "Do pigs not have the privilege to wander? Or perhaps he—"

Lyon’s aura suddenly ignited, flooding the space with overwhelming pressure. The leaves above shuddered, and the bark of the World Tree groaned under the weight of his unleashed presence. "Don’t play with me, Yggdrasil!"

The World Tree laughed, the ancient sound shaking the ground beneath Lyon’s feet. "Hahaha, I only jest, child. You’ve always been too impatient." The earth trembled, and the roots of Yggdrasil slithered aside, revealing a crystal formation buried deep beneath the soil.

Inside the crystal lay Lyon’s father, suspended in perfect stillness. His figure was unchanged, locked in time. A faint aura pulsed around him, as if shielding his soul from the decay of countless eons.

"There he is, just as you left him," said the tree. "Still dreaming in crystal, waiting for the right moment... or the right son."

The right son?" Lyon arched a brow, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Yggdrasil’s branches swayed in rhythm with a soft chuckle. "Did anyone ever tell you the truth behind the Lost History? The hidden Chapter that not even Paradise or Purgatory would admit to?"

Lyon’s gaze lingered on the man locked inside the crystal. "The Lost History... it was the war between the Mortal World, Paradise, and Purgatory. My old man..." His eyes narrowed as he studied his father’s frozen form. "He played a part in it."

"Wrong," Yggdrasil hummed in amusement. "You’ve got two out of three agents right, but the third was not the Mortal World."

Lyon’s expression darkened. "What do you mean? The scriptures, the ruins—they all point to the Mortal World as a participant. The evidence is undeniable—"

"I was there, Lyon," the ancient tree interrupted, its deep voice reverberating through the earth. "It was not the Mortal World. It was... your family."

Lyon’s heart skipped a beat. His lips curled in disbelief. "Torga...?"

"Indeed," Yggdrasil whispered, its voice now low and somber. "It was the Torga bloodline against both Paradise and Purgatory. The Mortal World? Merely the stage, the battlefield where your family fought."

Lyon took a step back, the weight of the revelation bearing down on him. His golden eyes flickered with a blend of disbelief and understanding. "So it was never about the Mortal World."

"No," the tree replied softly. "It was a war between ideals—your family’s ideals—against the very foundations of those pantheons. They called it a clash between realms, but it was the Torga name that echoed through the destruction."

Lyon clenched his fists, trying to steady his breathing as the scope of his legacy unraveled before him. "And my father... he led them?"

Yggdrasil’s leaves rustled. "He didn’t just lead them, Lyon. He sought to change everything—he dared to defy the very essence of creation, of heaven and hell."

"It’s not about ideals," a strange yet familiar voice echoed through the realm, cutting through the atmosphere like a blade.

Yggdrasil’s branches trembled slightly, a sound like distant chimes resonating from its leaves. "You..." the World Tree whispered, a strange combination of disbelief and irritation threading through its ancient voice. "How did you enter this realm? No one should have access here."

The voice chuckled in reply. "You’ve gotten lazy with your locks, old tree. Honestly, even a squirrel could’ve gotten in."

Lyon spun around, his sharp senses instantly on high alert. Then his eyes widened in disbelief, his pupils shrinking to pinpoints. There it was: a tiny, plump figure standing proudly with an air of mischief. Bright pink in color, it had chubby cheeks, and its small, stout hooves were black as night. Despite its comically rotund appearance, it radiated a peculiar familiarity, one Lyon couldn’t quite place immediately.

"No way... Uncle Pig?" Lyon blurted, his voice caught between shock and disbelief.

The pig heaved an exaggerated sigh, shaking its head with mock disappointment. "How many times do I have to tell you, kid? Call me ’big brother,’ not ’uncle.’ I’m not that old, alright?"

Lyon blinked a few times, trying to process the absurdity of the situation, but a grin soon spread across his face as he let out a hearty laugh. The sound echoed across the vast realm like a long-forgotten melody.

Then the laughter stopped abruptly. Lyon froze in place, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him. Something clicked in his mind, a realization he hadn’t been ready to confront. "The right son..." he whispered, goosebumps spreading across his arms like wildfire.

The pig smirked knowingly, its small black eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, there it is. You’ve finally connected the dots, haven’t you?"

Lyon’s mouth opened and closed, unable to find the words. "You..." he started, then trailed off, his thoughts scrambling.

The pig casually puffing out its chest as if it were proud of the omission. "Well, better late than never, right?"

With a mischievous glint in his eye, the pig tilted his head. "Blink for me, Lyon."

Lyon raised a brow in confusion but obeyed. And in the mere fraction of a second that his eyes were closed, the world shifted. When he opened them again, the playful little pig was gone.

In its place stood a tall, commanding figure, his presence so familiar yet so foreign. He was slightly taller than Lyon, with long, jet-black hair that cascaded down his back like a dark river. His features were sharp, sculpted like a warrior’s, but there was an undeniable elegance to him. His eyes, deep and penetrating, carried an ancient weight.

Lyon’s breath caught in his throat. The resemblance was unmistakable. The man standing before him shared the same regal aura as their father, the man still imprisoned within the crystal nearby.

"Ahhh," the man sighed, stretching his arms as if shaking off centuries of stiffness. "Being stuck in that pig form really does a number on your muscles."

Lyon stared in stunned silence, struggling to reconcile what he was seeing. "Uncle Raja always said you were human but..."

The man rolled his eyes with a small, amused chuckle. "Raja... that loudmouth. Can’t keep a secret to save his life, huh? Well, it doesn’t matter now."

He took a step closer, his expression shifting from playful to something far more serious. His sharp gaze locked onto Lyon’s, as if seeing deep into his very soul.

"Let’s make this formal, little brother," the man said, his voice now carrying an unmistakable authority. "I am also a Torga. My status though, is higher than yours."

Lyon’s fists clenched instinctively as the weight of those words sank in, his mind racing to process the revelation.

The man’s lips curled into a smirk, and with a slight bow of his head, he gave his final introduction.

"I am your elder brother," he crossed his arms, chest up, chin’s up as if now heaven could bow him. "Simak Torga."