Lucian ran his fingers along the blade again. There was nothing unusual about its shape, only that star-shaped crystal, split down the middle, as though a piece of it had gone missing somewhere along the way.
A tremor rippled through the ground beneath the swords. Somewhere among the hopefuls, one of the children had just succeeded in calling a blade from the Sarnel family’s Tomb.
"Reporting, my lord, it seems Young Master Adrian has claimed the sword Veyra."
From the small platform, Cassius watched clearly as Adrian closed his hand around the blade and raised it high, turning it for the entire gathering to see, unmistakable pride written across his face. He’d earned the right to be proud, too. A hairline fracture ran along the tip of Veyra’s blade, and from it, embers sparked to life with every swing.
Cassius’s mouth curved into a wide, satisfied smile as he watched his son claim the blade.
"Not bad. He managed to awaken a Relic on par with Tier A."
He tilted his head slightly, already calculating. "Once his own Awakening comes, we’ll need to track down a Grimoire attuned to fire. Make sure the synchronization is flawless, Edward."
Edward bowed his head. "Understood, my lord. We could likely gather more information on such a Grimoire through House Augusta."
"Hm. You may be right." Cassius’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
"I haven’t cared much for how often they’ve inserted themselves into my affairs lately, but when it comes to fire-element mastery, no one rivals the Augustas. It seems we’ll need to put together a worthwhile offer to secure a Grimoire from them."
"My lord, I’ve heard one of the Augusta children is set to be named the new Saintess," Elder Piter cut in, leaning into the conversation.
"Is that true, Edward?" Cassius’s gaze flicked toward his servant.
"It’s true, my lord. The Patriarch’s second daughter, Lumina. From what I understand, many within the Order of Lumielle believe she was chosen directly by the Goddess herself."
"Hmm. Chosen as Saintess before she’s even undergone her own Awakening?" Burrel mused aloud. "Does that mean the girl carries divine blood?"
Elder Piter clapped a hand on Burrel’s shoulder without warning.
"Divine blood or not, as long as we maintain good standing with her, we’ll never have to worry about trouble from that quarter. Which is exactly why, in my view, we should consider offering the new Saintess the Kirana crystal, Patriarch."
A sharp, disapproving click of the tongue rang out from an elderly woman nearby, her hair black, her robes marking her as one of the Sarnel Elders.
"Your joke isn’t funny, Elder Piter," she said. "How exactly do you propose we hand over the Sonata blade to her?"
"Elder Meron, when did I say anything about handing over Sonata itself? I only said we should offer the Kirana crystal fused to its hilt. She’s already sitting there unused. Wouldn’t it make more sense to put it to work than to let it gather dust?"
The white sword they were discussing was Sonata, the only blade in House Sarnel’s entire Tomb that had never actually belonged to the family in the first place.
Cassius fell into thought at Piter’s suggestion. Sonata had sat in their possession far too long, useless to anyone, save for the star-shaped, golden Kirana crystal fused to it, a Relic attuned to the element of light, a rarity almost unheard of in this world.
More than a few members of House Sarnel privately considered the crystal worth more than the sword it clung to, even bound as tightly to Sonata as it was.
"Patriarch, please, don’t give away either the sword or the crystal." Elder Meron’s voice cut through the discussion, firm and unyielding.
"That blade came here carried by her own hand. To this day, we still don’t fully understand what that sword is actually capable of. Handing it off carelessly to someone else could prove dangerous."
"You worry too much, Meron," Elder Burrel muttered, clearly stung that his own opinion had been so thoroughly overlooked in the conversation.
Before the argument could go any further, the Patriarch raised a single hand, silencing them both instantly, his attention already shifting forward.
Down at the Tomb, only Kaelyn and young Lucian remained without a sword of their own. Not far from where they stood rose the hill bearing the three legendary blades. Kaelyn had already forced his way up toward it, determined to touch one for himself.
But the moment he drew close, a crushing wave of pressure rolled off the three swords at once. Kaelyn staggered, tried to climb higher, and finally collapsed, his legs giving out beneath him. Nearby, young Lucian had begun making his own way toward the legendary blades as well.
"Hey, Blind Boy. What exactly are you trying to prove, going after the ancestral swords? You can’t even claim an ordinary blade, and you think you can get anywhere near those?"
It was true. Every time young Lucian had reached for a sword in the Tomb, the blade had done nothing but tremble in his hand, never once willing to be drawn.
But what no one around him realized, not even Lucian himself, was that the swords weren’t refusing him out of unwillingness. They trembled because they were afraid.
He came to a stop exactly where Kaelyn had fallen.
Just as it had with Kaelyn, the pressure from the three swords surged the instant Lucian drew near, bearing down on him until his head and shoulders bent forward under the weight of it.
"GRRAAGGHH!"
But Lucian forced his head back up. His knees buckled, nearly touching the ground, and still he pushed himself upright, gathering every last scrap of strength he had, and kept walking toward the three blades.
A ripple of shock passed through the crowd. Lucian, somehow, was withstanding the full pressure of all three legendary swords at once. Only a few more steps remained.
His fingers were within a hair’s breadth of closing around Ulzareth, the blade resting at the center, when all three swords shuddered violently, as though responding directly to his touch.
Beside him, Kaelyn had already succeeded in claiming his own blade, one called Pullar, its hilt shaped in a distinct triangle, a sword rumored to extend or shrink at its wielder’s will.
Kaelyn lifted it high, pointing it straight at Lucian, who was still sprawled on the ground where he’d landed.
"You idiot. You can’t even hold an ordinary sword, and you thought you could go anywhere near the legendary ones?"
Kaelyn had been thrown back by the same pressure himself, but standing there now with a sword of his own in hand, he clearly felt he had every right to look down on Lucian, who had nothing at all to show for it.
"Guess the servants were right about you. Talking to a sword that isn’t even there. You really have lost it, haven’t you?"
But young Lucian shouted back at once. "I’m not lying! I got that sword from a woman It was beautiful, with a yellow, star-shaped gem set into the hilt. There’s no way I could’ve imagined every single detail like that!"
The words drew far more attention than he’d intended, sharp, calculating stares turning his way all at once.
Edward and the Elders shifted uneasily, their eyes drifting toward Cassius.
"Edward." Cassius’s voice had lost every trace of its earlier ease.
"Are you certain that sword is still exactly where it’s supposed to be, upstairs? Don’t tell me what Lucian just described is a different blade entirely. Because if it is, why would it match, detail for detail? It’s not as though many people even know that sword exists."
Cassius wasn’t speaking casually anymore. There was an edge to his voice now, unmistakably close to anger.
"I’ll go verify it myself, immediately, Patriarch."
Edward turned on his heel at once and strode off the platform, disappearing into the mansion without another word.
"Elder Meron. Bring Lucian to me."
Elder Meron only bowed her head in response.
Her steps looked unhurried, almost leisurely, and yet somehow she closed the distance in no time at all, standing directly before young Lucian, her hand already closing around his.
Without a single word, she led him forward.
In moments, the two of them stood before the Patriarch.
Young Lucian, sensing that something was deeply wrong, dropped immediately to one knee before Cassius. The Patriarch’s voice, when it came, carried an edge sharp enough to cut.
"Do you know why I had you brought here, Lucian?"
"No... Patriarch."
Lucian never called him father. Patriarch suited their relationship far better, given how little closeness had ever existed between them.
"Is it true you obtained a sword, one that was strikingly white?"
"It’s true, Patriarch. The whole thing was white, blade and all, and there’s a crystal set into the hilt."
Cassius’s eyes widened at that.
"Where did you get it? Where is it now?"
"I got it from a woman, Patriarch. She told me it suited me. But the sword right now..."
Before young Lucian could finish, Edward came rushing back, breathless and urgent.
"Patriarch, this is bad. The sword is already—"