The Hidden Extra: The Lazy Prince Refuses to Ascend The Throne Chapter 657 Nolan's Offer

"How dare you, Nolan Lorian!"

Whoosh!

Suddenly, Obsidia materialized right in front of him. Her left fist rose high, targeted directly at his skull.

A dim black glow enveloped the punch, certain to kill Nolan on impact—or so Obsidia thought.

Boom!

An enormous blast shook the chamber, causing the walls to shatter.

Thick smoke billowed upward to the ceiling, obscuring all surroundings.

Moments later, when the haze dissipated, Nolan stood unmoved, effortlessly blocking Obsidia's strike.

Shock widened Obsidia's eyes. As she geared up for another attack, Nolan casually flicked his finger.

Instantly, the area surrounding her solidified. Not a single limb, not even her hands, could budge.

"W-What!? How can this be!?" she screamed, terror overwhelming her.

Despite her fierce struggles, paralysis gripped her completely.

"Remain frozen and witness your master's demise," Nolan commanded icily.

Disregarding the rigid, hovering Obsidia, Nolan slammed his foot into the dagger embedded in Aldrian's chest, shoving it further in.

"Argh!"

Blood spurted from Aldrian's mouth as he coughed. His shaking fingers scraped at Nolan's boots, desperately attempting to shove him back, yet to no avail.

"Aldrian Lyren, your idiotic antics these past days are appreciated. Now, perish…"

Right after Nolan spoke, the glow in Aldrian's gaze faded. His form slackened, slumping lifelessly to the ground.

The firstborn prince, successor to the Ancient Kingdom of Eron, had perished.

Nolan pulled back his foot, exhaling deeply.

'The ultimate scheme is finished. All that remains is Karakh's action,' he whispered inwardly. 'But first… time to handle that woman.'

He pivoted to face Obsidia, advancing toward her.

A finger snap released the bindings that kept her locked in place.

Obsidia tumbled onto the ground, heaving for air.

Nolan knelt before her, tilting her chin upward using his thumb and forefinger.

"Now it's only us left. Aldrian's gone, your master no more. Care to serve as my exclusive weapon?" Nolan proposed.

Of the seven Singularities, Nolan alone lacked a dedicated weapon.

The Singularity of Light brandished the Orundar Lightning Sword, while the Singularity of Flame gripped the Scorching Judgment Hammer.

Nolan?

Nothing. He had pondered it, but no fitting weapon existed for him.

Spatial manipulation defined his abilities, demanding a throwable armament that returned seamlessly to his grasp.

A discus fit perfectly.

"Become your personal weapon?" Obsidia scoffed, spitting in disdain. "In your dreams? You murdered my master, and now you covet my strength? Nolan Lorian, you're utterly shameless!"

Her barbs left Nolan unfazed. He merely grinned serenely. "Quit resisting. Consider this—what drove you to choose Aldrian as master? Elevating him to mighty ruler? Or reclaiming your utmost power?"

Obsidia jolted at his words. That secret lay buried deepest within her. Most assumed her approval crowned the south's rightful overlord.

Actually, the notion held truth. She'd support any worthy soul, up to dominating the southern lands.

Yet Obsidia, as a sentient relic, required her host's mana for survival.

Luckily, the Lyren lineage boasted a special physique. Their founding king brimmed with immense mana stores, letting Obsidia endure and amplify her might across ages.

The Demon Emperor's arrival shattered it all, razing the Ancient Kingdom of Eron and slaying her prior wielder.

Sealed away in a secret vault thereafter, unworthy successors failed her standards.

Only Aldrian's emergence roused Obsidia from eons of dormancy, reentering the realm.

Hence her fierce guardianship of him. His demise meant her relapse into endless repose—a fate she'd never accept.

Noting her quietude, Nolan sensed she weighed his offer.

This realm spun on profit and gain. Love boiled down to shared utility.

Rejection from Obsidia didn't trouble him.

"Fear not. My physique is robust, my mana reserves exceptional. Skeptical? Witness proof."

Nolan then unclasped the necklace dangling from his neck.

Seemingly nothing shifted—save a frigid wave radiating outward.

To Obsidia, horror bloomed: a dark violet-black aura exploded from Nolan's form.

Skyward it roared, boundless in extent.

Her pulse thundered. This was Nolan's mana in its primal form.

"Such vast mana!" she shrieked in dread. "You… what are you truly?!"

From her creation, no being matched this potency. Not even Eron's Ancient Kingdom founder rivaled him.

Nolan resecured his necklace, slipping it under his robe's neckline.

"Who I am? Learn that by accepting. Your answer?"

Patiently he awaited. His display guaranteed her consent.

He pierced her soul's depths. The relic craved existence and past splendor's return.

Nolan alone could grant it.

Silence enveloped Obsidia. In truth, assent tempted her. Nolan outshone Aldrian manifold.

Aldrian's end concerned her minimally. She'd selected him for unmatched Lyren mana, historical or current. Gone? Fine.

A single barrier persisted: Lyren bloodline exclusivity.

"Why the quiet? Don't you desire to be my weapon?"

Nolan's steady tone yanked her from reverie.

Obsidia inhaled sharply. Prior animosity dissolved into bewilderment tinged with sorrow.

"Not quite. Frankly, your might intrigues me greatly for wielding. My power would rebound swiftly, exceeding old heights. Yet…"

A gentle sigh escaped before she pressed on. "I cannot serve beyond the Lyren bloodline. Ages back, I forged an unbreakable pact with the Ancient Lyren Kingdom's founder, limiting me to his heirs alone. Millennia on, it chains me inescapably… save if the Lyren lineage ends utterly."

An eyebrow arched on Nolan, mildly taken aback. The Ancient Lyren Kingdom's founder harbored vast ambition.

"Reveal the pact's hold on you."

Obsidia assented, loosening her dress's neckline to expose creamy, enticing cleavage.

Nolan's focus locked on the central skull emblem—inky and menacing.

"Behold the pact. Eternal Shackles, it's called."