Chapter 235: Wedding, the Day of Drawing the Sword
“By the way, did you see the headline on the Star Cluster Daily?”
“Yeah, I did… I didn’t expect that Shiltina is actually the First Imperial Princess of the Granwell Kingdom—”
“What’s more, she’s also the successor personally appointed by His Majesty Allen, the future Empress of the Empire, and the next wielder of the Holy Sword.”
It was clearly the end-of-term period, but at this moment within Star Cluster University, both students and professors had their attention completely diverted by a massive piece of gossip. No one had time to care about final exams or other mundane matters—
The First Imperial Princess of the Empire, Shiltina von Fresberg, was about to be wed.
What’s more, His Majesty Allen had already made a public announcement: on the day of the wedding—
Shiltina would inherit the Holy Sword, which only past rulers were qualified to wield, and be officially established as the future Empress of the Empire.
Although Star Cluster University was not affiliated with the Empire and maintained a relatively independent and transcendent status, its main campus was still located within Imperial borders, right next to the Imperial Capital... Many students chose to head to the capital during weekend breaks to relax and have fun, so naturally, they paid close attention to any news coming from the capital.
Not to mention the female lead of this earth-shattering gossip—was none other than a student of Star Cluster University... As one of the Twelve Seats of the Round Table on the Star Cluster Obelisk, coupled with the numerous rumors and tales from her first year as the so-called “Strategy Demon”, Shiltina was already a well-known figure within the university.
Thus, from student dormitories to the Grand Library, from the Ruins Institute to the Ashen Institute... nearly everyone, faculty and students alike, were discussing the same topic.
“Although we only found out about Shiltina’s identity just now, thinking about it, it does kind of make sense.”
“If she weren’t already a princess of the Empire, with royal resources backing her, how could that ‘Strategy Demon’ possibly have achieved such outrageous accomplishments in her first year— that’s simply not something a normal person could pull off.”
“I just wonder who the male lead of this wedding is, the lucky guy who’s going to become Shiltina’s husband and an Imperial Prince... what kind of person could he be?”
“But, to be chosen by the Imperial Family, he must be an extraordinary figure. Someone who can win over the ‘Strategy Demon’—it’s not something others can even imagine.”
The information released by the royal family to the public didn’t include any details about the groom.
As a result, most of the gossiping masses could only exhaust their imaginations trying to guess what kind of person this man—who would become an Imperial Prince—might be.
And the impact of this wedding wasn’t limited to just within the Empire or Star Cluster University.
It stirred up a great commotion across the entire Western Continent.
The “Kingdom of Knights”, the “Land of Dawn and Starlight’s Blessing”, the “Sanctified Realm”—the Granwell Kingdom, with all its many titles, was already one of the most powerful and prosperous nations on the continent. Every move it made attracted widespread attention.
Now, with the formal announcement of the Holy Sword’s heir and the future Empress, newspapers spread the news across the continent—countless gazes, both overt and hidden, friendly and hostile, turned toward the Imperial Capital.
Even the Holy Kingdom of Fran, the Church Nation, and the Alliance of Lords all dispatched emissaries to the capital to attend the ceremony…
The wedding itself didn’t matter much to these major powers. What they truly wanted to witness with their own eyes was the deeper meaning behind the ceremony—
The inheritance of the Holy Sword, and with it, the shift in the Empire’s Sovereign Domain.
…
“Little Shiya, you’ve heard about the recent uproar, right... Tina’s wedding.”
Star Cluster University, in a quiet courtyard.
A snow ferret lay lazily on the sofa, its fluffy tail swaying now and then. From the sub-dimension of subspace, it summoned a few dried fish snacks into its mouth.
Sitting across from Dean Silver was a girl with loose, icy-blue hair and an aura of cold detachment.
“Though the royal family went to great lengths to keep it secret so the Gravekeepers wouldn’t catch wind of it—the groom’s identity won’t be disclosed until the day of the wedding…”
“But for someone like you, who knows the inside story, you should be able to guess who Shiltina’s marrying.”
Dean Silver blinked curiously. “Little Shiya, don’t you care about this at all?”
As a veteran gossip deity, Dean Silver felt it had sniffed out the scent of a juicy scandal.
“A little,”
Aksia nodded slightly, then shook her head.
That normally expressionless, snow-like exquisite face of hers showed a rare ripple of emotion.
“But if I care too much, it might trouble him, so I just made myself stop caring.”
She lifted her head slightly, gazing at the setting sun in the western sky with her dark purple eyes.
Then, she gently raised her hand. As silver-blue light points gathered mid-air, an ancient-looking storybook quietly materialized between Aksia’s pale fingers.
It was an old fairytale book. It looked like it had been around for quite some time, yet it had been preserved exceptionally well—there wasn’t even a visible crease.
Aksia’s pale fingertips softly brushed over the aged cover.
“The fairytale between him and me already has a perfect ending.”
“As for the story after the ending… for me, as long as I can stay by his side, keep seeing him safe and sound, that’s enough.”
“Everything else—I don’t care, and it doesn’t matter.”
“Little Shiya, you...”
Dean Silver looked at the icy, serene girl before it, wearing a rather frustrated expression. But in the end, it gave up and let out a sigh.
As the university’s social butterfly, Dean Silver wasn’t just Last’s best bro and Shiltina’s close sister, but also Aksia’s bestie.
So, it knew clearly that this girl, who carried within her the Death God’s Holy Grail and might one day become a Judgement Angel of the Death God Sequence... due to her origins and upbringing, her personality and emotions had always been abnormally indifferent.
For her, the moral standards of the secular world meant very little... Perhaps in Aksia’s eyes, being close with a man who’s already married wasn’t a big deal at all.
“Then, what about you, cat?”
Dean Silver had just sighed in its heart, feeling like it missed the chance for a glorious love triangle drama, when suddenly, elegant icy-blue script began to form in the air.
“Cat, why did you come here?”
“Usually, aren’t you glued to his side all day long, refusing to budge even in death?”
A hint of confusion appeared on Aksia’s frosty, beautiful face.
“Could it be... you were abandoned by him?”
“I’ve said this many times—I’m a snow ferret, not a cat.”
“And also, I’m not that guy’s pet, so where’s this talk of abandonment coming from?”
Dean Silver angrily stuffed a dried fish snack into its mouth. “But ever since that guy met Allen the Old Fossil and Ophelia in the capital, he really did kick me out.”
“He’s been shutting himself in the Ashen Institute day and night, keeping everything a secret from me. I have no idea what he’s up to.”
“Is that so.”
Ice-blue handwriting surfaced in mid-air, and Akxia nodded as if suddenly enlightened.
She stretched out her fair hand and pointed at Dean Silver, who looked a little exasperated.
“A stray cat abandoned by its master.”
“Damn it, who are you calling a stray cat!”
“Little Shiya, I think you've been corrupted by that guy too.”
Dean Silver instantly exploded on the spot.
“We’re done, we’re done!”
...
Imperial Capital, Inner City, Royal Palace.
The glow of dusk filtered through the glass windows, casting mottled hues of iridescence upon the marble floor between the grand halls.
Shiltina stood before a broad silver mirror, her chestnut-colored hair cascading like a waterfall.
“Elder Sister, this dress truly suits you perfectly.”
“It has shed some of your usual sharpness and added a touch more gentleness.”
The brown-haired girl in a Western dress stood just behind Ishtala.
With pale fingers fluttering elegantly, Ophelia gathered Shiltina’s cascading chestnut hair and wove it into the style of a princess braid.
A moment later, Ophelia clapped her hands with a cheerful grin.
“All done! Just like that.”
“If Brother Last sees this, he’ll definitely be enchanted by the contrast between how you normally look and how you are now, Sister.”
Ophelia scrutinized the reflection in the tall silver mirror for a long while, only nodding in satisfaction after careful review.
“I’ll be attending the evening wedding banquet as a family member as well, so I need to go get dressed and prepare.”
“So then, Elder Sister... I’ll be going first. Let’s meet again at the wedding.”
Lifting her dress, Ophelia gave an elegant, flowing curtsey before quietly retreating.
Within the vast palace, only Shiltina remained.
And Shiltina silently gazed at her own reflection in the mirror.
The gown’s main color was pure white, but scarlet floral patterns traced along the hem and neckline, blooming like vivid roses.
The high collar and cinched waist were made of soft material, misty like clouds, gently trailing to the floor in a train resembling morning light.
At the collar, golden thread embroidered the insignia of the Black Eagle, exuding a regal and noble air.
Her chestnut hair, inherited from her mother, was braided into a princess style, now resting gently down her back.
As Ophelia had said, dressed in this wedding gown... the edge and sharpness she once wielded as a Black Night Traveler had faded, replaced by the elegance of a captivating noble girl, radiant like summer flowers, boundlessly beautiful.
With such a look, she would undoubtedly be the center of attention at any noble banquet.
In truth, as a princess of the nation, this was the image Shiltina ought to have projected—cradled in the hands of the royal family like a pearl, stunning the ballroom and banquet with her elegance, navigating between nobles and powerholders with poise.
Not the Shiltina who once fought at the front lines like a warrior, walking hand-in-hand with death, surrounded by steel, corpses, blood, and fire—a role starkly at odds with her royal identity.
Yet, staring at the luxurious and stunning noble girl in the silver mirror... Shiltina felt an overwhelming sense of unfamiliarity.
As if something important was about to be forgotten.
A solemn and ancient bell tolled from afar, snapping Shiltina out of her daze.
She rose in silence and stepped out the door.
At the end of the long palace corridor was a vast open courtyard.
Though it was called a garden, it was as broad as a prairie, covered with a scattering of vibrant flowers.
And there, at the end of the grassland, lay a sword embedded in stone—or perhaps the stone embedded in the sword—resting quietly.
The golden twilight bathed the garden. The whole world was silent, save for the rustling of the breeze through the grass.
“To pull out this sword is to become the king of this nation.”
This was the royal decree Shiltina had heard countless times since childhood.
Though nominally the “Holy Sword” was passed down through the imperial family, in truth, most monarchs throughout history had been unable to pull it from the stone... all they could do was borrow a portion of the relic’s power in their capacity as sovereign.
Very few had ever been acknowledged by the Holy Sword and truly drawn it from the stone.
So no matter how diligently Ophelia tried, how precociously wise, how politically cunning, or how accomplished she became in the domain of the Mechanists—
As long as Ophelia had not been acknowledged by the Holy Sword, Allen would never change his chosen heir to the throne.
The Holy Sword bore such profound significance to this country, just as the “Fool’s Library” did to the Shoreguards, or the “Eternal Night Stele” to the Gravekeepers.
Shiltina crossed the quiet garden, walking toward the rock under the glow of the setting sun.
Then, she quietly placed her hand on the sword’s hilt.
She knew that once she pulled this sword out, there would be no turning back... she would have to shoulder the fate of millions throughout the Empire, a weight befitting the bearer of the Holy Sword.
It was a duty that contradicted the beliefs of the “Forester”—
“To be a qualified ruler is to learn the trade-off of values,” “Saving some people means abandoning others,” “There has never existed a way to bring happiness and salvation to all.”... these were the philosophies of “King” that her father Allen had repeated to her countless times.
However, if she did not draw the Holy Sword, then Shiltina would have to watch that boy die—die in the secret war instigated by the Gravekeeper Quasi-Angels.
She had no way out. And no other choice.
Just then, a sudden gust of wind swept through.
In the very next instant, crimson light illuminated Shiltina’s eyes.
It was a starlight that pierced through the twilight sky, dazzling like blood.