Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 568

Ilena was the only Royal Sentinel without direct combat ability.

Her power was pacification. Mediation. Influence.

She served as Natson Island’s diplomatic bridge to the outside world, negotiating resources and alliances through charm, empathy, and subtle control. It was entirely normal that she hadn’t joined the fight.

Elia Jones was another matter.

Among the Sentinels, Elia ranked near the top. His alchemically modified revolver could bend bullet trajectories with perfect precision, turning every shot into a guaranteed kill. He was also a brutal close-quarters fighter. If he had joined the battle, the outcome would have been very different.

Yet he hadn’t moved at all.

Unless... he had wanted Rowan Mercer to succeed.

"You’re saying Elia broke the Golden Branch?"

Rowan’s words landed like a thunderclap.

The former King and the remaining eight Sentinels all froze, disbelief written across their faces.

They had always assumed the act came from within the island. Only someone recognized by the Sacred Tree could break a Golden Branch.

But Elia?

No one had ever suspected him.

He loved the island. Loved its people. The children training to become future Sentinels adored him most of all.

"Why, Elia?" someone asked softly.

No one questioned Rowan’s words. He was the King now. The Sacred Tree itself acknowledged him.

Elia’s expression twisted.

He had never imagined things would end like this.

He hadn’t attacked earlier because seven Sentinels had already failed. If Rowan truly destroyed the Sacred Tree, then Natson Island would finally be free. No more isolation. No more being trapped by ancient rules. People could leave. Children could live normal lives.

That had been his original plan.

He was prepared to die to make it happen.

But Rowan hadn’t destroyed the Tree.

He had claimed it.

In a way Elia had never imagined.

"Enough," Rowan said calmly. "I’ll see it for myself."

He stepped forward and placed a hand on Elia’s forehead.

Words could lie.

Memories could not.

A moment later, Rowan withdrew his hand.

"So that’s it," he said quietly.

He turned to face Elia fully.

"You meant well," Rowan continued. "But you were naïve. You thought that if the Sacred Tree was destroyed, Behemoth Corporation would leave the islanders alone."

Behemoth hadn’t spent decades engineering enhanced operatives and pouring resources into Natson Island just to walk away empty-handed.

If the islanders were ordinary civilians, maybe they would have been released.

But every single one of them possessed abilities.

To Behemoth, they weren’t people.

They were assets.

At best, they would be turned into expendable operatives. At worst, dissected and studied alive.

And Elia’s plan had another flaw.

Did he truly believe he could destroy the Sacred Tree?

Behemoth would never allow it. If his attempt failed, the corporation would take the Tree, the island, and every single resident. No resistance left. No bargaining power.

Had Elia never broken the Golden Branch, Natson Island would have remained sealed. Protected. Forcing Behemoth to pay an absurd price to invade.

A price they might not have been willing to pay.

After all, Behemoth had enemies. Many of them. Groups waiting for any sign of weakness to strike.

Elia staggered back and collapsed onto the ground.

"I just wanted the children here to live normal lives," he said hoarsely. "Not grow up killing and bleeding. Not trapped by the Tree."

Rowan regarded him silently.

Then he raised a hand.

"Elia Jones. For your actions, you are stripped of your position as Royal Sentinel."

The power unique to a Sentinel drained from Elia’s body instantly.

"You will remain as an ordinary island guard. You will protect Natson Island and atone through service."

It was mercy.

Not because Rowan needed Elia’s strength. He didn’t.

But because the former King and the Sentinels still cared deeply for him. Killing Elia on his first day as King would have left invisible fractures behind.

And Rowan had no interest in ruling through fear.

Elia froze, then dropped to one knee.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. I swear my life to the defense of Natson Island."

Rowan nodded.

"Good."

He turned next to the former King.

"Your successor among the Sentinels will be Mila Moore," Rowan said evenly. "She will also oversee Sentinel affairs going forward. Any objections?"

Mila Moore, the former King of Natson Island, met his gaze and shook her head.

She had been chosen by the Sacred Tree not for strength, but for intelligence. Even as a teenager, she had immediately recognized the Golden Branch incident as a Behemoth scheme and dragged global factions into the open to prevent a silent takeover.

If not for her decisiveness, Natson Island might already have fallen.

Rowan respected that.

He intended to retreat into study soon.

Natson Island needed a mind like hers to govern it.