Summoned As A Mere Nobody-Yet Possesses An SSS-Rank Ability

Chapter 263: Before Calamity

"And when they strike," Nolan said calmly, "they’ll reveal everything we need."

Celia swallowed.

"You’re saying... we let them make the first move?"

"Exactly," Nolan replied.

"When they act, we’ll know their goal, their method—and how to undo whatever scheme they’re planning."

Nolan folded his arms slowly, his gaze fixed on the distant sky beyond the tall stone windows of the Earth Tribe’s hall. The wind outside shifted—subtle, unnatural—like something vast had just stirred.

"We’re not moving," he said calmly. "Not yet."

Linda frowned. "But Master... if what you’re sensing is true, then—"

"I know," Nolan interrupted, his voice firm. "That’s exactly why we stay."

The room fell quiet.

Lyra stepped forward, her expression troubled. "You’re saying Prince Zohar hasn’t fallen yet... but he’s close?"

Nolan exhaled slowly.

"He’s standing at the edge," he said. "Between reason and ruin. Between being a man... and becoming something else entirely."

Celia clenched her fists. "You mean he’s being consumed?"

"Yes," Nolan replied. "And not slowly."

The air grew heavier.

Linda jaw tightened. "Then that thing inside him... the one that possessed him—"

"Is no longer just influencing him," Nolan said quietly. "It’s feeding him. Feeding on his anger, his pride, his resentment. Every doubt he ever had is being sharpened into a blade."

A brief silence followed.

Lyra swallowed. "So what happens if he completely gives in?"

Nolan’s eyes darkened.

"Then Prince Zohar ceases to exist."

The words fell like a hammer.

"And what remains," Nolan continued, "won’t be a man, or even a demon—but a vessel. A walking calamity."

Linda clicked his tongue. "Tch. So that’s why the air feels heavy. Like something is clawing its way out of the world."

Nolan nodded. "That’s why I said we stay. If he loses himself completely, the first place he’ll come for... is here."

The room fell into silence again.

Celia finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then what do we do?"

Nolan turned to her, his expression calm but resolute.

"We wait."

He looked toward the horizon, where dark clouds were beginning to coil unnaturally.

"We prepare," he continued. "And when he comes—"

Nolan exhaled slowly, his expression dark and heavy.

"The demon that possessed him... it’s already gone," he said quietly. "I saw it with my own eyes."

The room fell silent.

"It was supposed to return to him," Nolan continued. "A demon like that never leaves its vessel so easily. But it did. And that’s what troubles me."

He clenched his fist.

"Ever since I became a Chronogod, I’ve been receiving fragments of knowledge—visions, instincts, truths that I shouldn’t logically know. And right now, all of it is pointing to one thing."

He looked up, eyes sharp.

"That demon didn’t fail. It withdrew."

Damian frowned. "Meaning something worse is coming?"

"Yes," Nolan replied. "A higher demon. One far more dangerous."

A chill ran through the room.

"It won’t possess him directly," Nolan continued. "That kind of being doesn’t need to. It will feed him power—mana, rage, ambition. Slowly. Quietly. It will let him believe the strength is his own."

He paused.

"And the most dangerous part... is that Zohar is already drowning in hatred."

Silence.

"The demon will nurture that hatred. Shape it. Guide it. Until Zohar no longer realizes where his thoughts end and the demon’s begin."

Damian clenched his fist. "So he becomes a weapon."

"Yes," Nolan said. "A conscious one."

He exhaled slowly.

"If that happens... it won’t just be a battle. It’ll be a catastrophe."

The air grew heavy.

"Because once he loses himself completely," Nolan finished, "what will rise in his place won’t be a prince... or even a demon."

His eyes narrowed.

"It will be a calamity."

Master," Damian said quietly, "why don’t we stop it before it happens?"

Nolan shook his head.

"That won’t work," he replied calmly. "Once a demon chooses its vessel, there’s very little anyone can do—unless the host himself rejects it."

Everyone fell silent.

"When a demon approaches a soul," Nolan continued, "it doesn’t force its way in immediately. It waits. It tempts. It whispers. It feeds on hatred, resentment, regret. If the host has even the smallest crack in their heart... the demon slips in."

He turned his gaze downward.

"If the heart is pure, the demon is rejected. But if that heart is consumed by rage, jealousy, or despair... then the demon doesn’t need permission. It simply enters."

Damian clenched his fist. "So Prince Zohar..."

"Yes," Nolan said quietly. "His heart is already drowning in hatred."

A cold silence filled the room.

"The demon that once possessed him has already been expelled," Nolan continued. "But that doesn’t mean the danger is over. In fact, it’s worse now."

Everyone looked up.

"A higher-ranking demon will come," Nolan said. "One far more intelligent. One that doesn’t force possession. One that feeds power instead—slowly, carefully. It will whisper into his thoughts. Strengthen his hatred. Make him believe the power is his own."

Lyra swallowed. "So... he won’t even realize he’s being controlled."

"Exactly," Nolan replied. "And once he accepts that power completely, he won’t just be a puppet—he’ll become a calamity."

Silence fell.

Damian broke it. "Then we stop it before it reaches that point."

Nolan shook his head slowly. "No. Not yet."

Damian frowned. "Why?"

"Because the demon hasn’t fully revealed itself yet," Nolan said. "If we act now, it will hide deeper. It will wait. And when it emerges again, it’ll be far stronger."

He exhaled, eyes narrowing.

"But make no mistake," Nolan said. "I can already feel it. The presence is here... somewhere in the elf kingdom. Watching. Waiting."

Damian’s jaw tightened. "So it’s already here."

"Yes," Nolan replied. "And it has chosen its host."

A brief pause.

"I’ll tell you this now," he said, his voice low but absolute. "He’s coming for me. Prince Zohar himself."

The room grew heavy. Even the air seemed to tighten around them.

"When he comes," Nolan continued, "he won’t come as a prince anymore. He’ll come as something else—something twisted. And when he does... he’ll already be walking alongside the demon."

Damian’s eyes sharpened, a faint golden glow flickering within them.

"If the demon shows itself," Nolan went on, "you can destroy it instantly. I don’t care what happens to it. I don’t care about mercy, or consequences." His voice hardened. "But as for Prince Zohar... there’s nothing left to save."

A silence fell.

"He’s already crossed the line," Nolan said quietly. "There’s no turning back for him now. Whatever humanity he had left is gone. And when he stands before me again, I’ll end it. Completely."

Damian stepped forward, his presence pressing heavily against the air. Though he stood in human form, the pressure of a true divine dragon rolled outward, unseen but undeniable.

"Understood, Master," Damian said, his tone calm but absolute. "If the demon reveals itself, it will be erased. If Zohar stands in your way... he will fall."

"Well... I just wanted to check on you," King Zul said carefully. "To see how you were doing. Whether you were comfortable here. And... how long you plan to stay."

The room was quiet. Too quiet.

"And," he continued, lowering his voice, "I was also wondering what you all have been discussing."

Nolan’s gaze didn’t shift. His expression remained calm, but something heavy lingered behind his eyes.

"Well," he said at last, "since you asked... I’ll be honest with you."

King Zul stiffened slightly.

"Prince Zohar may no longer be possessed," Nolan continued, "but that doesn’t mean he’s free. The demon is gone, yes—but what remains inside him is far more dangerous."

The air grew cold.

"He may look human," Nolan said, "but he’s no longer just a man. If things continue the way they are, he could still become a monster."

The color drained from King Zul’s face.

"What... what do you mean?" he asked slowly. "Are you saying he can still turn?"

Nolan nodded once.

"If time were on our side, there might have been a way to save him," he said. "But there isn’t. There’s not enough time."

Silence followed—heavy, suffocating.

King Zul clenched his fists. "That’s impossible. There’s no way. No demon could breach our sacred barrier. Not even a high-ranking one."

Nolan’s eyes lifted, sharp and unwavering.

"That’s where you’re wrong," he replied. "There is one. And it already has."

King Zul’s breath caught.

"The demon didn’t cross the barrier in body," Nolan continued. "It slipped through in a way far more dangerous—through influence. Through intent. Through the cracks left behind by hatred."

The room felt colder now, as if the light itself was shrinking.

"And once a being like that sets its gaze on someone," Nolan said quietly, "it doesn’t stop until something breaks."

King Zul swallowed hard, the weight of the truth settling heavily on his shoulders.

"So... what happens now?" he asked.

Nolan turned slightly, his eyes dark but resolute.

"Now," he said, "we prepare. Because whether you believe it or not... something terrible is already on its way."