Crownless Reincarnation: New World? Nah I'd win
Chapter 159: Reagan and Kros The Great One. [2]

Chapter 159: Reagan and Kros The Great One. [2]

Reagan’s home remained silent as he kept on reading the letter in his hand again and again.

His fluffy hands trembled violently as he held back his sadness.

"H..how did he die?" he finally asked, looking back at Akamir. "H-he should h-have a long life to live."

"He died in an accident," Akamir said, touching his space ring. "To create this for you."

A staff wrapped up in a cotton cloth materialized in his hand.

Akamir slowly passed the staff to Reagan.

Reagan’s paws reached out slowly, almost hesitantly.

He took the staff with care, gently placing it on his lap.

His button eyes stared down at it in silence.

The soft ticking of a wooden clock filled the room, the only sound between them.

Reagan slowly began to open up the clothing over the staff.

The head of the staff bloomed outward like a budding flower, holding a small, humming core.

It was beautiful.

"...His final project," Reagan whispered, his voice hoarse, the sarcasm and sharpness long gone.

"I remember the staff, it was a prototype to stabilize my body and soul."

He looked up at Akamir.

"He finished it for me?"

Akamir nodded once and pointed at the core at the top. "Do you recognize that core?"

Reagan slowly looked up at the core, his hand hovering over it.

Finally, his button-like eyes widened in surprise. "Is this Ven Core?"

Akamir smiled faintly.

"Velyrian completed two of the projects that you abandoned," he said. "On his own."

Even though Akamir was the biggest help in achieving the breakthrough that Velyrian needed, he kept that to himself.

’It’s better if I don’t try to take credit for his creations.’

Reagan didn’t say anything for a long time, his paws gripping the staff a little tighter.

He stared at the Ven Core, that cast flickers of light on his fuzzy fur.

"This... this was impossible," he murmured. "Even when I was younger, I couldn’t stabilize Ven energy without corrupting the vessel."

"He did it," Akamir said quietly. "Though, he lost everything by doing so."

Reagan gave a small, bitter laugh, brushing a paw across the top of the staff. "Typical Velyrian. Always the genius, always the fool."

Akamir didn’t reply as he looked around the room curiously.

’There are a lot of things that I don’t understand.’

Akamir sighed as he looked at a few items placed around but couldn’t even understand what they were.

"...Did he suffer?" Reagan asked suddenly.

"I don’t know." Akamir shook his head. "But he was always suffering even before dying."

Reagan let out a sigh. "Yeah... He also asked me to look after his daughter."

He raised the staff over his head, admiring it for a while.

"My maker didn’t make me immune to curses," he said, lowering his staff. "Still I can see if I can help her."

Akamir just gave him a nod as his work was partially done here.

’If he decides to help her then I won’t need to intervene.’

"By the way," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Who were you to Velyrian?"

"His student," Akamir replied. "I helped him with some small work."

"He entrusted his lifelong prize to you," he said, adjusting his monocle. "You must be special to him."

Akamir just nodded without giving him any explanation.

Reagan didn’t press further. He stared at Akamir for a moment, then looked down at the staff resting on his lap.

"I’ll repair the stabilization sequence," he murmured. "If I want to use it... God, why did he die f-for this."

Sadness clawed at him as the teddy bear closed his eyes.

"You should complete whatever is needed," Akamir encouraged him. "Don’t waste his sacrifice."

He slid off the stool and began limping toward one of the cluttered shelves, his cane tapping against the wooden floor.

Akamir watched in silence as the teddy bear climbed up a small ladder and pulled out a dusty box.

"This has the rest of the designs," Reagan said. "I never opened it again after our fallout. Guess now’s the time."

He dropped the box on the desk with a soft thump, then gestured for Akamir to come closer.

Inside were dozens of folded papers, blueprints, and sketches.

Half were in Reagan’s messy handwriting, the other half clearly Velyrian’s neat script.

"I’ll need a few days to go through these," Reagan said. "The staff works, but if I want to enhance it for strengthening my body... I need to tune it to my own soul thread."

"Take your time," Akamir replied. "I could...."

Akamir’s voice trailed off as Reagan**’s** attention shifted somewhere else.

...On the pair of earrings he was wearing.

"Where did you get these?" he asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

"Uh, I can’t say that," Akamir replied awkwardly.

He doesn’t want to go back and see the Exalted Empyrean Neaothea again.

"Did my maker give it to you?" Reagan asked, his voice trembling. "Did you meet with her?"

’Right, Velyrian did say his master was made by her.’

His fingers brushed against the earrings lightly, unsure how to respond.

"...Maybe," he said vaguely. "But I’d rather not talk about it."

Reagan stepped down from the stool slowly, his button eyes fixed on the earrings as if they held all the answers in the world.

"She’s alive?" he asked in a whisper, barely audible.

Reagan’s tiny hands trembled again. "Where is she? Do you know if... she’s okay?"

"She looked fine," he replied after a pause.

Reagan let out a slow breath, sitting down on the desk as if his legs couldn’t hold him anymore.

"So she still exists... after all this time." His voice had softened by a lot.

"Did she... did she say anything?" Reagan asked. "About me?"

Akamir shook his head.

Those words seemed to bring him back to reality as he drew in deep breaths.

Finally, he calmed himself enough and looked at him. "You aren’t as simple as I thought."

Akamir didn’t say anything as Reagan gestured towards the bag on the corner. "Grab it."

Akamir frowned but did as he said.

Reagan opened the door as he walked out of the house, Akamir followed behind.

Viros and Luca still stood outside playing with some elven kids.

"Call them," Reagan said. "We are moving."

"Where?" Akamir asked, gesturing the brothers to come.

"To the neighboring town, Malik," he said, his cane supporting his body. "It’s been three months, I have delayed the matter long enough."

"What matter?" Viros asked, though he still had that awkward look talking with a teddy bear.

"Six months ago, I got the news," Reagan said, his voice deep. "About a dead body of a great one spawning in Malik."

Akamir frowned in confusion. "A Great One?"

"Beings made of mana," he replied, "they are essentially immortals."

"That’s impossible," Viros scoffed. "How can it be immortal but still be dead?"

Reagan looked back at him. "How old are you, boy?"

Viros blinked. "Seventeen, why do you ask?"

"I am more than five thousand years old," he replied, looking away. "I know things that you can’t even comprehend."

A serious-looking Nayomi came into Akamir’s line of sight.

She looked at him, her voice dead serious. "Ask him which Great One?"

Akamir looked at Reagan. "Which Great One is it?"

"Kros, or as some say, Krosm," Reagan replied solemnly.

"The Blood of the Ocean."