Chapter 268: Perhaps, Still Enough to Live Until Your Wedding
Summerflower Calendar, Year 996, September 30th, at dusk.
Granwell Empire, Imperial Capital, Inner Districts, Imperial Palace, between the Thrones.
“This day… has finally come after all, Shiltina.”
Allen sat upright upon the throne, gazing at the young girl walking slowly toward him, clad in a red-and-white knight’s uniform, her chestnut hair cascading down her back.
This was Allen’s daughter with his first wife Cecilia, and at the same time, the only heir to the imperial throne.
“I still remember, when you were twelve, you left a note at home and then simply ran away, choosing to live outside the Imperial Capital all on your own.”
“At that time, Carol was worried sick about you, believing you were still too young to take care of yourself, unable to live alone… no matter what, she wanted me to find you and bring you back home.”
“But I knew your temperament. Even if I had forced you back, you would surely have found another chance to run away again—so in the end, I convinced Carol. Apart from assigning a few hidden guards, I never again interfered in your life.”
“That being said—those guards may have been able to protect your safety within the Empire, but once you joined Starfall University and became a Night Traveler, they could no longer follow you into the Nightworld.”
Allen thus fixed his gaze upon his daughter before him. In those slightly aged eyes flickered a trace of comfort.
“In this, you and your mother are exactly alike… once either of you sets your mind on something, not even ten oxen could pull you back. Stubborn and obsessive to the core.”
“To think that in the blink of an eye, ten years have already passed.”
“In ten years’ time, you have grown from that willful little girl into a supreme powerhouse capable of looking down upon the world.”
“The moment you pushed open the door and entered, for a split second I thought I was seeing your mother again.”
That expression of gratification and deep sentiment flashed across Allen’s face only briefly.
Very quickly, his demeanor returned to solemnity and majesty.
For Allen, as a sovereign ruler, this was his habitual bearing. Rather, it was the rare glimpse of true emotions earlier that was the true anomaly.
“Then, Shiltina.”
He scrutinized his daughter and voiced his final question.
“Are you ready, with the resolve to shoulder the weight of the crown and bear the destiny of the entire Empire?”
“Of course.”
The one who answered Allen was the young girl, her clear voice ringing out without the slightest trace of hesitation.
“I shall inherit everything of the Empire.”
“Not only for your wish, but also for my mother, for Rast…”
“For everyone.”
…
“Then, according to the covenant of Crimson Blood and Pure-White Sword…”
“I appoint thee, wearer of the Twin-Headed Eagle Crown, as the new Emperor.”
Within the chamber of the thrones, Allen held his crown in both hands.
Bathed in the pure radiance of the lamps, the silvery crown of the Twin-Headed Eagle shone brilliantly.
Then, he placed this crown upon the head of Shiltina.
At the same time—
“By the name of Fresberg and the ancient covenant—”
“And for the peace of the Western Continent and the people of the Empire.”
“I swear to reign upon this seat.”
Shiltina’s solemn oath reverberated within the throne chamber.
“With this, the succession to the throne is complete…”
Allen gazed at Shiltina, now wearing the crown, who had completed her metamorphosis from Imperial Princess to Empress.
“From this moment forth, you are the ruler of the Empire. All supreme decisions of the Empire will rest solely in your hands.”
“Shiltina…”
“Next, you must go to the plaza outside the palace, to proclaim your enthronement to the subjects of the Empire who have long awaited, and to the entire world.”
With the ceremony completed, Allen’s words carried a hint of lightness and relief.
Yet soon, he noticed that his daughter—the Empire’s new Empress Shiltina—did not immediately leave the palace as planned to step upon the high platform at the center of the Inner Districts and announce her coronation to the people.
The chestnut-haired girl remained within the throne chamber, gazing quietly at him.
“Father…”
Shiltina softly asked: “After your abdication, what do you intend to do?”
“My days after abdication?”
The elderly man was momentarily stunned.
Though by the lifespan of a high-rank Transcendent, which spanned several centuries, Allen’s true age was less than one hundred—hardly close to old age or the end of life expectancy.
Yet over the past two years, he had aged dramatically, the weariness impossible to conceal.
Especially now, having completed the succession and laid down the crown he had borne for decades, Allen no longer needed to mask this frailty before the subjects of the Empire. At last, he revealed it without reservation.
This was because, over the past decades, Allen had forced himself to draw upon the Holy Sword to augment his strength.
As a Sacred Relic, the Holy Sword was indeed incomparably powerful, but in accordance with the Transcendent law of “Equivalent Exchange,” each use exacted a matching price, bringing immense backlash to its wielder.
These were wounds no ordinary means could heal.
Under normal circumstances, the injuries caused by the Liberation of the Holy Sword could be slowly healed by its Scabbard— the distant Ideal Land, “Avalon.”
So long as the Emperor, wielder of both the Holy Sword and its Scabbard Avalon, did not overuse the sword, these injuries could be mended within Avalon’s nurturing, leaving no lasting afflictions.
But Allen had not kept Avalon for himself. Instead, when Shiltina was very young, he buried Avalon within her body.
This was the one act of willfulness Allen had ever indulged in as sovereign— for the path Shiltina pursued, the path of the “Forester,” was far too perilous.
And Avalon, able to soothe pain and heal wounds, was Allen’s gift to his daughter: a father’s blessing that she might grow up safely.
The price, however, was that every time Allen invoked the Holy Sword, the backlash upon his soul could not be healed, only accumulated until it became irreversible.
Yet he had no choice.
When Allen ascended the throne, it was precisely when the previous Emperor had perished in a conspiracy, plunging the Empire into chaos, beset by both internal and external strife.
And in less than twenty years, Allen had swept away the disorder, restoring this ancient knightly nation to its former glory and raising it once more to the pinnacle of the Western Continent.
With the Gravekeepers, the Cult Groups, and other hidden forces coveting in the shadows… Allen had overdrawn himself with the Holy Sword’s power, subjecting himself repeatedly to the baptism of the River of Time. Only thus had he swiftly attained the combat power of an Angel and gained the qualification to deter other secret factions.
“After abdication, I shall likely return to the Autumnleaf Domain… to your mother’s hometown, and remain at the old estate I shared with Cecilia, until the end.”
“This is something I wished to do long ago but could not because of my role as king. Now, at last, I can fulfill that wish.”
Allen smiled faintly.
“Shiltina, I am well aware of my body’s condition. This vessel has long been ravaged by the Holy Sword’s backlash, broken and tattered.”
“In other words, my days are already numbered.”
“All this time… I merely endured through the Holy Sword’s strength, forcing myself onward for the sake of my station as sovereign.”
The aged man gave a cough: “But now that I have laid down the throne, I need no longer force myself.”
“I am, after all, still a Transcendent of the Legendary tier. So long as I do not wield my power again, and accept only the most conservative treatment… living for a few more years, even another decade, should not be a problem.”
He smiled: “Perhaps enough to live until that person awakens, and to attend your wedding with him.”
After a cold estrangement lasting ten years, father and daughter at last reconciled.
And Allen, finally, could speak not as sovereign ruler, but as an aging father with his daughter.
“If I can witness the moment of your marriage, then I can die without regrets, able to face your mother with a clear conscience.”
“To stand before her judgment of me— a man who abandoned wife and child for the sake of state interests…”
“Is that so—”
Shiltina listened quietly, then softly spoke.
“But in my memories, until her final moment, Mother never bore a single grievance against you.”
“Even to the very end, she did not regret having met you.”
“I think, if Mother truly has a spirit watching from the heavens, then she surely does not wish for you to go so soon to accompany her… but rather hopes you can live well in this world.”
“Besides, Father, such thoughts of yours may be romantic, but to my stepmother Carol, to Ophelia and the others… it is far too irresponsible.”
She gently placed her hand upon her chest.
In the next instant, dazzling brilliance bloomed in the void.
It was as though drawn by tens of thousands of pure radiant lines, forming something akin to a sheath.
“This is the thing I borrowed from you, Father.”
Shiltina calmly gazed at the resplendent, dreamlike scabbard in her hand—also the Ideal Land far removed from all else.
After fully establishing mastery over the Holy Sword, Shiltina was now able to separate with ease this Sacred Relic buried within her body, which had accompanied her nearly all her life.
“I think, it is time for things to return to their rightful owner.”
“Shiltina…”
Allen froze once again.
He had never expected that at this very moment, Shiltina would make such a choice.
Through the intelligence network Allen controlled in secret, he had long since discerned the movements of the Gravekeepers, and of those Cult Groups lurking in the shadows.
Allen knew well that, with Shiltina’s temperament, once she decided to confront something, she would never waver. Thus, he was willing to respect his daughter’s choice… he had not acted in advance on that intelligence, but left it for Shiltina to resolve personally.
For at this moment, it was Shiltina who was the Empress ruling over the Empire.
Yet now, Shiltina had separated her Scabbard.
This meant that before the coming great battle, Shiltina had willingly severed one of her own arms of strength.
She had abandoned Avalon, the Scabbard that had granted her rapid healing and undying endurance ever since she became a Transcendent.
Without Avalon’s protection, Shiltina might long ago have perished in the battles of the Nightworld, never reaching today.
“Once wounded, there will be no recovery… when a person is killed, they die. This is only natural.”
“Just as you said, over the past ten years, this Scabbard has shielded me through every battle, every step of my growth… for too long, I have been overly dependent on it.”
“Even if, by the Scabbard’s power, I successfully crossed this trial… such a me would still be only relying on external tools.”
“If one day, I were to lose the Sacred Relics, to lose the protection of all outside forces—then that Shiltina would only be incomplete and fragile, a defective product.”
“But I am greedy. I do not wish to abandon anything at all… and so, Shiltina cannot allow any flaws, but must always do her utmost in everything.”
“Only by truly surpassing myself can I be worthy of coveting all at once—whether it be the ideals of a Forester, the responsibilities of the Empress of the Empire, or my love with Rast. I desire them all.”
As though seeing straight into her father’s heart, Shiltina smiled once again.
“So, Father, this is my choice.”
“As of today, I no longer need to depend on the Scabbard’s protection.”
“And now, it is time to return this Scabbard.”
“Let it carry Mother’s longing once more, and guard you instead…”
The girl’s crisp yet unwavering words still echoed in the throne chamber.
But Shiltina’s figure had already left the chamber, softly addressing the elder waiting respectfully outside.
“Teacher Tark, lead the way.”
“As you command, Your Majesty.”
The elder named Tark answered with deep respect, guiding Shiltina along the passage toward the plaza where the people were gathered.
He was a member of the Granwell Imperial Family, a collateral elder to Shiltina and Allen, and the legendary guardian of the Imperial Household for many generations.
Back then, twenty years ago, during the Twilight Calamity in the Autumnleaf Domain—
Tark had accompanied Allen, who was then still a prince, as his protector. Later, obeying Allen’s orders, he used his own ability to project from afar, personally showing Shiltina the final moments of her mother’s life.
Likewise, Tark had been Shiltina’s instructor in swordsmanship during her childhood within the royal family.
Much of Shiltina’s skill as a Rapier Wielder had been taught by Tark. One could say he was her mentor, who had guided her onto the first steps of her Transcendent path.
Shiltina and Tark’s figures grew more distant, until even the sound of their footsteps faded away.
Only Allen remained alone in the empty throne chamber, gazing in silence at the resplendent, dreamlike Scabbard in his hands.
After a long while, he let out a soft chuckle.
Then, he gently pressed the Scabbard into his chest.
Amid the flowing, pure radiance, the “Scabbard” named Avalon quietly sank into Allen, merging with him as one.
And his ravaged, broken body at last began slowly to heal.
“Cecilia.”
“Our daughter… she has truly grown up.”