"Which path will you choose?"

  The voice didn't come from Ellyn.

  It came from inside Arthian's own head.

  He stood at a crossroads. Not a real crossroads, but a crossroads of decision.

  After his eyes saw truth, the first thing he did was stop.

  Not to rest, but to decide.

  Because now he could see paths laid out for him, countless paths.

  "What do you see?" Ellyn asked.

  Arthian didn't answer immediately. He looked at his own hands.

  "I see paths."

  "Paths to where?"

  "Everywhere," he answered.

  "And that's the problem."

  When he could see the world's structure, he also saw simultaneously

  that countless paths were already laid out for him.

  Paths of pawns, paths of weapons, paths of tools "too valuable to destroy."

  Every path had one thing in common—someone had to "write the rules" for him to follow.

  Arthian closed his eyes.

  And in that darkness, he didn't see the past. He saw the future.

  Multiple possible futures.

  The Eye of Veracity didn't just see the structure of what existed.

  It also saw the structure of what would happen.

  "Do you see the future too?" Ellyn asked.

  "Not seeing it," Arthian answered.

  "But seeing patterns."

  "Seeing what happens if I walk this way."

  The version of him that accepted contracts—gained power quickly, but every step had chains attached.

  The version of him that cooperated with great powers—survived, but had to trade silence toward corruption.

  The version of him called "The Chosen"—stood tall, but never knew when the pedestal would be removed.

  No path where he wasn't used.

  Arthian opened his eyes. Gaze ice-cold.

  "Every path I see,"

  "was written by someone else."

  "And if I walk paths written by others,"

  "I'll be a pawn."

  Ellyn fell silent.

  "So you won't choose any path?"

  Arthian shook his head.

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  "No."

  "I'll create a new path."

  That thought wasn't violent, wasn't rushed.

  It was ice-cold enough not to need proving.

  If you don't want to be a pawn, don't stand on anyone's board.

  Arthian didn't shout, didn't announce to the world, didn't swear to anyone.

  He just "accepted" clearly to himself that—

  From now on, all survival must be a side effect of his own will.

  "Will you walk alone?" Ellyn asked.

  Arthian turned to look at her.

  "Do you want to come?"

  Ellyn smiled thinly.

  "I have no choice."

  "Because if I don't follow,"

  "I'll die anyway."

  Arthian didn't deny it, because he knew it was true.

  "Then follow."

  "But remember."

  "I'm not promising to protect you."

  Ellyn nodded.

  "I know."

  "I just want to see...how far someone who chooses their own path"

  "will go."

  And the moment that thought crystallized, the soul core in his chest jolted.

  Not painful, but it was a sign that something was changing.

  Something in his chest shifted.

  Not power from outside, not remnants, not force fields.

  But pressure from not backing down.

  Arthian felt it clearly—that now he wasn't just deciding.

  He was paying the price.

  Because the sovereign path wasn't free.

  It had to be exchanged for severing all conditional help.

  "Does it hurt?" Ellyn asked.

  Arthian shook his head.

  "Doesn't hurt."

  "But it's heavy."

  "Heavier than breaking through 10% even."

  The 12% soul core, which had been precisely arranged from before,

  began to "compress"—like metal struck repeatedly.

  Not adding mass, but adding density.

  Arthian didn't absorb energy from outside.

  He compressed what existed until denser.

  This was the price.

  Weight that didn't crush, but supported.

  He didn't absorb, didn't seize, didn't devour anything.

  Power flowed in because it "had nowhere else to go."

  Ice-cold determination wasn't emotion.

  But it was a new structure that energy willingly arranged around.

  The soul core shifted through the final resistance point silently.

  12% → 13%

  No rebound. No impact waves.

  But the nearby world seemed to "quiet down" briefly.

  "What happened?" Ellyn asked.

  Arthian looked at his own hands. The numbness in one finger disappeared.

  But the remaining fingers...were heavier.

  "I broke through 13%."

  "Then why did the finger come back?"

  Arthian didn't answer immediately. He moved his hand, testing.

  "It didn't come back."

  "It was just compressed."

  "The numbness was pressed so dense it doesn't feel numb."

  "But it's still there."

  "Just deeper than before."

  Ellyn fell silent.

  "That sounds dangerous."

  "Yes," Arthian answered.

  "But that's the path I chose."

  Arthian felt the difference.

  Before, he ran from the system.

  Now, he refused to accept the system.

  And that forced the system to compromise.

  But at the same time, Arthian felt something missing.

  Not power, not strength, but options.

  He could no longer ask for help from the system.

  Couldn't use existing structures, couldn't rely on rules the world accepted.

  He had to create his own rules.

  And that meant every battle from now on would be heavier.

  "What did you lose?" Ellyn asked.

  Arthian fell silent.

  "Lost options."

  "What options?"

  "The option to ask for help."

  "The option to compromise."

  "The option to give up."

  Ellyn watched him for a long time.

  "Was it worth it?"

  Arthian didn't answer immediately.

  "Don't know."

  "But if I didn't choose this way,"

  "I'd be a pawn for life."

  Ellyn only saw that Arthian stood straighter.

  Not taller, but more stable.

  She didn't ask, and he didn't explain.

  Because this path didn't need witnesses.

  But she could feel that from now on, the man before her would never ask for help again.

  Arthian looked toward the deeper direction.

  Where powers began to overlap and rules stacked upon rules.

  He didn't think about overthrowing or seizing.

  He only thought—if I must walk in a rotten world,

  I'll walk as "one who is not used."

  And if the rules won't accept my existence, I won't force them.

  I'll overwrite them.

  "Do you know what you're doing?" Ellyn asked softly.

  "I know," Arthian answered.

  "You're declaring war."

  "No."

  He turned to look at her.

  "I'm not declaring war."

  "I'm just saying...I'm not playing this game anymore."

  The Eye of Veracity saw where rules were anchored.

  And the 13% soul core had enough weight to press on that point.

  He walked away. Not rushing, not slow.

  But every step had confidence never before present.

  Not the confidence of someone skilled, but the confidence of someone with no choice.

  And that made it stronger.

  In the Indigo Rift, whispers began spreading.

  "It crossed 13%..."

  "Not just stronger..."

  "It changed how it walks."

  Some recognized immediately that this wasn't just power growth.

  This was status change.

  From prey to hunter. From fleeing to choosing. From Exception to threat.

  Arthian didn't turn back, didn't look at the sky, didn't swear to anyone.

  He just walked on.

  While the world began to feel that something that shouldn't move was moving.

  And it didn't ask permission from anyone.

  Ellyn followed. Same distance as before.

  But she felt the difference. The air heavier.

  Not from energy, but from the weight of choice.

  The man ahead had just decided something, and that decision had no return.

  "Where will you go next?" she asked.

  Arthian stopped walking, looking north.

  "To find the power node."

  "Why?"

  He turned to look at her. Eyes ice-cold.

  "Because if I'm going to write new rules,"

  "I have to destroy the old rules first."

  "And the old rules...stand on three power nodes."

  Ellyn fell silent.

  "Will you destroy them?"

  Arthian didn't answer immediately.

  "Don't know."

  "But I'll go see."

  "See if they're truly strong."

  "Or just pretending."

  In the deep chamber of the Domain Holder,

  the Elder suddenly stood up.

  "It's coming."

  The Domain Holder turned. "Coming where?"

  "Heading toward the power node."

  The Domain Holder fell silent.

  "Which node?"

  "The first node."

  "The weakest one."

  The Domain Holder raised his hand. A black symbol appeared.

  "Send the order."

  "Everyone gather at the first node."

  "If it dares come,"

  "kill it immediately."

  The Elder looked at the Domain Holder.

  "Are you sure you can kill it?"

  The Domain Holder smiled coldly.

  "It's only 13%."

  "We have 50%."

  "It has no chance."

  The Elder said nothing.

  But in his heart, he knew that someone who doesn't fear death

  is more dangerous than someone strong.

  Arthian walked on. Didn't stop, didn't hesitate.

  Ellyn followed. Didn't ask, didn't urge him back.

  Because she knew the man ahead had decided.

  And when he decided, nothing could stop him.

  Except death.

  And even death...he'd already come back from.

  In the distant darkness,

  the first power node began to tremble slightly.

  Not from attack.

  But because someone was walking toward it.

  Without fear.

  [End of Chapter 35]