Marvel's master of cosmic magic

Chapter 576

"Understood."

The man called Hyena didn’t waste a second. He turned and sprinted down the steps, racing for the edge of the island as if something monstrous were breathing down his neck.

And in truth, it was.

The new King of Nason was terrifying beyond reason. There was no path to victory here. No clever trick. No last stand worth making. Ron was already dead, and the explosive device embedded in his mind had been removed. Whatever leverage Behemoth once held over Hyena was gone.

This was a perfect chance to cut ties.

With his level of ability, countless organizations would be eager to recruit him. Continuing to serve Behemoth now would be nothing but stubborn suicide.

Once the strongest among them fled, the rest followed without hesitation. Discipline shattered. Formation dissolved. They ran.

All that mattered was escaping the island.

Behemoth’s soldiers fled in panic. Operatives from other factions, disguised among them, abandoned their missions and joined the retreat. No one dared linger.

The objective to destroy the Sacred Tree had failed completely. But Behemoth’s losses were far greater, and there was no chance they would claim the Tree now.

In a twisted way, the outcome still aligned with the original goal.

The Tree didn’t need to be destroyed if Behemoth never touched it.

Staying any longer risked being mistaken for Behemoth and executed by the new king on sight. Dying like that would be humiliating.

Evan Clarke and his group shared the same conclusion. They knew George had recognized them and deliberately spared them, but now was not the time for greetings.

They turned with the crowd, preparing to leave the island. The company’s warships were already waiting offshore.

They hadn’t taken more than a few steps when a glowing sigil bloomed beneath their feet.

Light folded inward.

They vanished.

"My King, I wish to remain on Nason Island. I want to become a Nason Guard."

With Behemoth’s forces in full retreat, White stepped forward from the ranks and knelt before George, his posture reverent, his expression sincere.

For most of his life, he had believed that power defined worth. Ordinary people were inferior. Those with ability were meant to rule, not blend into a weaker society.

That belief collapsed the day his closest companion, Tabor, allied with ordinary soldiers and modern weapons to defeat him. The loss didn’t just wound his pride. It hollowed him out. After that, life felt empty, purposeless.

But today, on Nason Island, he had seen true power.

Armies. Heavy weapons. Helicopters. Warships.

All of it was meaningless.

Before the King of Nason, everything forged by lesser beings was laughably fragile.

And Nason Island itself embodied his ideals. Every citizen was born with ability. There were no powerless masses here.

So he chose.

"To live for the King," White said quietly, lowering his head.

George placed a hand on White’s forehead. Power surged from the Sacred Tree, flooding into him, reshaping his bond to the island.

"Well said," George replied. "I can feel your resolve. From this moment on, you are the tenth Nason Guard."

In the past, Nason Island could sustain only nine Guards. Any more would have crushed the former kings under the strain.

George was different.

His strength stood above the Sacred Tree itself. If he wished, sustaining hundreds of Guards would be trivial.

White was among the most dangerous individuals alive. Leaving him alive had never been hesitation. George had wanted him to witness, firsthand, how meaningless modern weapons truly were.

Now, he would serve as another shield for the island.

"Come," George said. "Return to the palace. There are people I want to speak with."

He vanished and reappeared instantly within the throne hall.

The other Nason Guards, still trapped between shock, disbelief, and exhilaration, snapped back to their senses and followed one after another.

"This," someone murmured, "is what a king should be."

Mae Jenson was the last to leave, teleporting away with her grandfather, Martin Gray, held carefully in her arms. As the light swallowed them, a quiet realization settled in her heart.

So this is what a true King of Nason looks like.

When she had worn the crown, she had been powerless. She had gambled her life and still failed to secure even a sliver of hope for the island. She had called every faction she knew. No one had come to stop Behemoth.

All she could do was prepare to die fighting.

George needed none of that.

No Guards. No Tree. No help.

With his own strength alone, he had swept aside every invader and protected both the island and the Sacred Tree.

That was the true meaning of the crown.

The King of Nason was not someone the island died to protect.

The King of Nason was the one strong enough to protect everyone else.

George appeared on the throne and raised a hand in greeting.

"Evan Clarke. It’s been a while. How have you been?"

Evan froze for half a second, then immediately broke into a wide grin.

"Brother Jin, long time no see. Thanks to you, I’ve been doing great. Really great."

And he meant it.

After learning the truth about Fiona Barlow’s past, Evan no longer felt compelled to chase the old mysteries surrounding the Thirty-Six Outlaws or the Eight Techniques. These days, he worked steadily for the company in his assigned district, mediating disputes between small ability-user groups and arresting low-level offenders.

Most of the time, he didn’t even need to fight. Fiona handled the hard work effortlessly.

His supervisors were familiar faces. The pay was solid. The work was stable.

Whenever he had free time, he trained.

Even this mission to Nason Island hadn’t been particularly dangerous. Their orders were simple: adapt to circumstances, interfere with Behemoth if possible, withdraw immediately if things went bad.

Extraction ships were always on standby offshore, backed by reinforcements ready to deploy.

"You’ve always been capable," George said calmly. "Smart people like you tend to do fine anywhere. You already know why I kept you here."

Evan’s eyes shifted slightly as he thought it through.

"You want to work with the company."

George smiled.

"Correct. I heard about the situation on Nason Island and came to take a look. I didn’t expect to become king by accident."

He paused, then continued lightly.

"But since I am king now, I have responsibilities. I have to think about the island’s future. And while I’m at it, I might as well secure a few benefits for my own country."

With a casual gesture, chairs appeared before Evan and the others, complete with tea and pastries.

"Sit. Let’s talk while we eat."

"Becoming king by accident," Evan muttered as he sat down. "That must be nice."

He helped himself without hesitation. Fiona did the same, utterly relaxed.

The remaining four sat rigidly, backs straight, afraid to make even the smallest unnecessary movement. They didn’t know George, and what they had witnessed moments ago left them painfully aware of how fragile their lives were in his presence.

The discussion began.