Ilia's thoughts were frantic, incredibly so. This current situation wasn't something he had expected to ever happen.

'I'm screwed, I'm screwed,' his voluminous body trembled and jiggled as he paced around.

'No! Dad will protect me. Yes! He has to. But that woman… shit!'

Anytime the image of that woman popped up in his head, a shiver would automatically run down Ilia's spine. One could only imagine how frightening she had to be to cause this kind of fear, especially when she wasn't even the Ossarch.

'Shit, shit! She'll definitely want to kill me! Wait… what if I make a warrior's promise to chase the killer? The Ossarch and the council members should want to honor it,' Ilia pondered hard.

Politics had never been his strong suit. In fact, it was his father who had pushed him to try and befriend the third prince, despite his reluctance.

This had been exactly why he had approached the prince with this offer, trying to gain his favor. If only he knew that it would end up with the bastard getting killed, he never would have even neared him!

They were currently inside a spherical, pristine white flying object, which was cutting through the air at fast speeds.

Ilia was heading back home to report everything that had happened, and he was beyond scared.

After about 30 minutes, the ship reached the top of a tall hill, and they were instantly met with an intriguing sight just below the hill.

The sight was undoubtedly beautiful, but at the same time, it screamed danger.

It was a city spanning a very large space, 68 square miles, which was as big as Washington D.C. back on Earth.

And in this large space, everything was white.

Everything was made with bones. From the walls that surrounded the city to the tall and numerous buildings of the city. Hell, the streets were paved with smooth bones, adding to the intense whiteness of the city.

And all over the streets, individuals more or less bearing the same features as Zekaron were bustling about the city.

But the reason why many would still call this scene frightening was because of the tall, large, and massive form of a skull, which lay suspended in the middle of the city.

It looked ominous, incredibly so. And as Ilia laid his gaze at the massive skull, he couldn't help but gulp. This was the place where his fate would be decided.

The ship entered the city unhindered, as the guards saw the insignia on the ship.

After a few minutes due to the inability to fly fast inside the city, they eventually reached their destination, landing at the end of a pathway leading up to the open mouth of the massive skull.

They immediately descended and were met with a grand sight. An army of soldiers stood, lined up on both sides of the platform, while staring at nothing in particular.

Every single one of them was donned in a white Yukata and radiated an intense aura of a master rank.

Ilia took in a deep breath, calming his nerves, and then after a few seconds, he started walking through the platform while pulling a floating casket with him. Each of his other soldiers remained back at the ship, leaving only him to enter.

After a few seconds, he got to the front of a massive double door, taking in multiple deep breaths to calm his breathing heart.

His entire body was sweaty, and considering the severity, it was quite obvious that he was extremely nervous.

This time, he took a minute before he was able to summon the courage.

The door swung open, and he walked into the room, the door closing behind him with a loud bang.

As soon as he entered, Ilia could feel the overwhelming and oppressive pressure emanating from the other end of the hall.

Unfortunately, now that he had already entered, he didn't have the luxury of taking time to get his shit together; he had to move and pay his respects.

He started walking towards the other end of the hall. The hall was incredibly large, and as expected, everything was pristine white.

Despite the size, there were exactly only seven individuals apart from Ilia in the hall. Four of them were seated on top of an elevated platform, while the other three stood below it on the sides.

He reached the end where a wide staircase was, leading to the top of the elevated platform, and immediately sank onto one knee,

"I, Illa Vernumer, greet the Great Ossarch," his robotic voice resounded across the room as he hit his hand against his chest.

There was a palpable silence after that, one that stretched for a few seconds. Illa's heart beat fast during each second.

Before he had the chance to ponder, one of the men standing below the platform suddenly spoke up.

"Explain yourself, child," his voice sounded firm and deep, human-like, but with a weird accent. It was clear that the man who had just spoken hadn't used any translators.

The man was tall and slender, about 6 feet 1. He had a bald head and whitish skin, but unlike Zekaron, the red patterns on his skin were different.

There was not a single bone jutting out from any part of his body, and he appeared human, albeit a weird and weak-looking human.

But despite this fact, everyone present in the hall knew differently. This man was the head of one of the three main lineages of the bone race, Ezekiel Marrow, with his lineage having the ability to control and manipulate bone density.

Illa flinched, subtly turning his gaze to the figure of what many would refer to as the older version of himself.

The resemblance was obvious; this man was undoubtedly Illa's father, and for him to be here only goes to show his standing.

The man returned his stare and shook his head with a firm, sad expression on his face, causing Illa's heart to clench. Didn't that mean he was all alone?

Illa clenched his fist; he knew he had to answer. "P-Prince Zekaron approached me and asked me to take him to one of the expected spawn sites for the incoming human youths."

"O-of course, I immediately refused, warning him about the time frame we were supposed to give them before attacking. B-but at the end of the day, I-I couldn't refuse a Prince. I-"

"Who killed him?"

Before Illa could continue his explanation, he was suddenly interrupted by a feminine voice.

It was the last person he ever wanted to speak to, the person he feared the most among everyone present: the queen.

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