Chapter 13: Noble Soul
"I am Prince Sylvester Sylknarius Tricko, heir apparent to supreme Sephiroth of the Anubis Great World. The most extreme talent with the purest god beast bloodline ever born in the royal family's history," the prince arrogantly proclaimed to absolutely no one.
"I have perfectly inherited the World Devouring Sky Jackal and Infinity Black Phoenix's ancient bloodlines. I am a second-generation Sky Jackal with the blood potency of a first-generation, thanks to my mother. Well, more accurately, I'm a noble Sky Wolf.
"I had just achieved dominance in the tri-decade tournament by defeating every other genius from the age of eleven years old to up to ten years older. I even slaughtered the number one powerhouse in the competition, Luerong...was it Blakrok? Roccblak? Whatever.
"I never cared for the human standard…I remember that. However, why can I not remember what happened after…"
Prince Tricko pondered aimlessly while he floated through the abyss, "Well, no matter. Let's first figure out where we are."
It was at this moment Sylvester realized that he had no physical form.
This caused great anguish to wash over his spirit in a wave. What the hell had happened? The last thing he could remember was the most glorious moment of his entire eleven years of life. Of course, those were fey years. It was calculated differently from how the hero age was; a fey year was roughly 900 hero years.
His younger brother seemed around his age, but Sylvester had existed for far longer.
He slowly came to terms with what this discovery most likely meant. Infinity Palace. The Great Beyond. He had heard it called a great many things. However, it all meant one thing in the end.
He was already dead. Dead to a hero, no less.
At the very least, his body was definitely gone.
Sylvester didn't dare accept this fate. Acceptance meant actual death. He would not. He refused to die, even if he was already dead!
As Sylvester surveyed his surroundings, he became depressed.
Why?
Because he surveyed nothing at all.
None of his mortal senses were active. He could see nothing, hear nothing, feel nothing. By instinct, he swept his spiritual perception over his body. He was merely a spiritual baby, albeit a rather handsome one. His form was opaque, and his legs nonexistent.
"Is this what it feels like to die? How uninspired," thought Prince Tricko. "No, this is unlikely. If I have perished, how am I still conscious?"
Wait.
No, that was it!
Consciousness.
How did he know he was a spiritual baby?
How could he perceive his form?
Because his soul consciousness had not ceased its functionality!
Sylvester immediately attempted to urge his spiritual power to take on the function and shape of his eyes. The first thing he 'saw' startled him greatly. A 'face' glided directly past his, followed by another and followed by another and then another. The dull and lifeless eyes looked devoid of any emotion or reaction.
This would have been far more unsettling if they weren't all ghost babies.
"So, do we all return to being infants upon death? Or perhaps this is that heroic cycle of reincarnation?" The young prince was startled.
Reincarnation? He seemed to have had this thought earlier. Wasn't he convinced that a hero had killed him? Why was that?
For some reason, this word reminded him of a very vague memory. It was fleeting.
His mind worked ceaselessly, trying to remember something. Suddenly, it came on like a light bulb.
"High-level heroes can forcibly bind the souls of those they kill to the Hero race's fate laws, forcing these souls to enter the hero's cycle of reincarnation! Effectively, any being killed by a high-level hero will reincarnate as one of the heroes. That's how they got so many sub-races. Such a reproduction method is terrifying despite their already startling fertility.
"Heroes really are the cockroaches of the universe.
"So this must be the fabled primordial roach pool, the River of Samsara!"
Sylvester extended his spiritual awareness to cover ten meters around himself before he was forced to stop. Spiritual awareness could allow one to view the world from a third person's point of view and at higher levels from above, like watching a drone on a broadcasted screen.
Emerald light suddenly flashed in the prince's otherwise nondescript eyes, and all the souls around him suddenly combusted into flames.
As the souls burned, the purified soul power made Sylvester's soul much more powerful. His mind became clear, and his soul light changed from its dull grey initial color to a forest green.
Sudden enlightenment!
Sylvester and all the souls surrounding him had initially been like drained husks. Devoid of energy, and thus dormant and easily manipulated.
The prince was able to reason that this gorgeous dark-green light hue surrounding his spirit form must provide some indication of a higher tier of soul power. Best of all, he had regular legs on his spirit form now! He had evolved from ghost baby to ghost toddler and even had slight facial features. This seemed somehow significant. It was all thanks to that emerald flame.
"Hahaha, the Sky Fall Flame, of course!" the prince laughed joyously, his mind working much more effortlessly. "It seems I have been banished to the nether realms of death. The Land of Fallen Heroes. This fabled river of forgetfulness! The legendary Samsara Road of Fate, in which time flows backward. How marvel..."
However, before Sylvester could appreciate the unique environment, moments of his death ran through his now conscious mind. His rage resurfaced.
"That bitch! How could she be so vicious?"
Sylvester was livid now that he understood his current circumstances in full. He could finally remember that after defeating Luerong Blacc, her bitch of a master, Sansa Blakroc, cornered him outside the venue and attacked!
Worst of all, Sylvester's younger brother Xavier tried to protect him in their last moments. Such love for the familiar was genuinely touching. Sylvester had never even liked the kid before that moment. He was also planning to kill him eventually, lest the talented brat try and compete for the title of Sephiroth. Sylvester would never allow this to happen, even if they were his mother's only living sons.
"Ironically, Xavier's negus bloodline has already disqualified him from the throne," Sylvester mused alone. He had long since prevented himself from having this thought, as he had to view his little brother as another obstacle lest his enemies do so first.
"My worries were baseless if not for my tactic. In the end, my tactics were a joke."
Now, his mother seemed to no longer have any sons left living. He and his brother had both been murdered, and Sylvester held himself accountable!
"That should have been the case. However, my nirvana flame has rewritten our almost abysmal fate. I should remember to kiss my mother when I return to the world of the living, haha."
Though he spoke harsh words to cheer himself up, hope was ultimately dismal. Unlike his brother Xavier, Sylvester was not a hero, and he knew only a limited amount of information regarding the affairs of the hero race and Negus Clan.
The ninth prince's mother was an Infinity Black Phoenix, an original pharaoh beast of the Pharaoh Bird Clan and a progenitor of the Infinity Monster race. This was one of the twelve primordial antiquity races. His father was also an original pharaoh beast, a mighty World-Devouring Sky Jackal of the Heavenly Dog clan. His father was an actual ruler amongst his race and the absolute monarch of the Anubis Great World, the Sephiroth.
.
Due to his mother unexpectedly experiencing her third nirvana during her pregnancy with the prince, Sylvester absorbed her phoenix essence and could manipulate her third-stage nirvanic powers since birth. Essentially, this flame was born within them both at the same time. From another point of view, this flame of rebirth gave birth to Sylvester.
The Nirvana Flame. The bane of all souls.
The original pharaoh beast, the Phoenix, naturally produced the nirvana flame during their rebirth process. There were nine nirvana of the Phoenix, and the Nirvana Flame was a gift born from the first, third, or sixth nirvanic tribulations. The birth time and level of the nirvana flame decided the talent of the Phoenix. These flames are unique to the Phoenix but could be shared with offspring through a particular method.
Rumor suggested that Sylvester's queen mother possessed a nirvana flame stronger than most Divine Flames.
What kind of concept was that?
One must know the truth of the universe naturally created sky flames. They could not be replicated or mass-produced! They were unique to themselves. A divine fire was the highest tier of sky flame. Some of these flames had even evolved into solar stars, and many had sentience. His Queen Mother's nirvanic flame could even swallow a small sun!
This was the Sky Fall Flame, also known as the devouring flame! Unknown to all except Sylvester and his mother, the Sky Fall Flame tried to devour him while he was in the womb! The result? The young prince, yet to be born, swallowed 65% of the flame's essence.
His mother made her mark with a flame that only possessed 35% of its original might. She had even lost her divine lifeblood to protect her son and became a hero. The remaining fire and her complete phoenix bloodline were within her son.
This child caused even such a heaven-defying existence to suffer a loss.
This happened even before his birth.
Due to the flame's eruption, Sylvester's soul was sublimated, and he once again recovered more of his memory. This time, he indeed remembered how he had ended up here.
"That damn hag dares to banish my soul? MY NOBLE SOUL!? Should it then be my fault that her disciple was not my match? It's my fault that her trash disciple loss in, like, what? Three moves? To think, I even thought to spare the lass," Sylvester shamelessly referred to a girl nearly his age in hero years as if she were a child.
"Alas," sighed the prince. "I wonder what happened to my little brother. Before I was hit with the spell, he jumped in the way and released his power. Such a freakish ability definitely has something to do with the current circumstances. And to think, I had even been thinking of ways to kill him. I almost feel guilty or something."
Sylvester didn't feel guilty.
In fact, the prince wasn't sure what such a thing actually felt like. It just seemed to fit here. Who told him to be born amazing, attracting this catastrophe because of his outstanding performance? It was a freak accident at best.
The ninth prince slowly floated on. Time was irrelevant here. He could not know how long he merely floated there, ever drifting forward. The only one among a sea of souls sitting with crossed arms and legs. What seemed like years passed by in silence. He felt like he understood new mysteries about the inner workings of time laws.
This was naturally incredible.
As a member of the fey race, his law comprehension ability was actually lacking. He was only proficient in the laws recorded within his lifeblood, as he didn't need to understand them; they were a part of who he was. His mastery of spatial law had been amazing since birth. However, even though it was harder for monsters to grasp laws, it wasn't impossible.
After being trapped in this temporal zone for so many countless eons, Sylvester started comprehending some things. This would benefit him greatly if he weren't merely an apparition. After studying for years, Sylvester felt like he had bridged the gap between spatial law and aspect.
This was the Heavenly Law of Spacetime.
However, this was less important than his latest discovery. The discovery that caused Prince Tricko to be baffled was that one soul was different from all the rest.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
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