Chapter 18
"You win," Mirian said, her voice low—steady, but laced with surprise and reluctant admiration.
Blood trickled down the side of her face from a shallow cut on her cheek.
The air between them still crackled with residual energy—mana they hadn't even been allowed to use. They stood back-to-back, swords lowered, breathing hard from the duel.
Gasps rippled through the coliseum-like arena, then a stunned silence settled. Moments later, the crowd erupted into murmurs, then cheers and whispers, a thunderous wave of disbelief spreading through the stands.
Julie, still seated with her hands over her mouth, blinked. "That… actually happened. She conceded. He beat the Empress."
Gyra had risen without realizing, her knuckles white against the stone railing. She glanced at Lace. "Did you see that?"
Lace exhaled deeply, eyes sharp and distant. "Barely. I caught the final clash. She threw everything into that last strike, and he still dodged it." His gaze drifted to the crater in the arena floor. Even with reinforced stone, she did that much damage. I wouldn't last twenty seconds against her.
Adian was whooping and cheering, punching the air like a child at a hero's parade. "I knew it! That's my master Basileus for you! No one makes it look that cool and lives!"
Julie raised an eyebrow. "You sure changed your tune quickly."
Gyra's eyes locked on Basil, who now stood relaxed—like he'd just finished a spar, not a duel against the strongest woman on the continent. But it was the way Mirian looked at him—curious, appraising, maybe even a little… familiar—that made her brows knit together.
In the arena, Mirian sheathed her sword and turned. Basil mirrored her, and they met at the center once more.
"I didn't even feel the cut until just now," she said, brushing a finger along her cheek where a thin, crimson line marked her skin.
Basil leaned in slightly, his cockiness gone—his voice warm and sincere.
"You've got talent. No doubt. But you overcommit to your power strikes. That last downward slash left you too open." He smiled. "You fight like a dragon—overwhelming, fearless, and just a bit reckless."
Mirian narrowed her eyes, but a small smirk tugged at her lips. "You were holding back."
"Not really," Basil replied. "But I was testing you. You exceeded my expectations. That last strike? I couldn't even tell you were the ruler of an empire. You fought like a seasoned knight."
Mirian looked at him—sweat on her brow, adrenaline still humming through her blood—and for the first time in years, she didn't feel like a monarch. She felt like a warrior.
"I'll grant your favor," she said firmly. "And… the other thing. Just say when."
Basil grinned. "You'll know."
She rolled her eyes but didn't hide her smile as she turned to the roaring crowd now rising to their feet. She raised a hand, and the noise fell into reverent silence.
"This man," she announced, her voice magnified by a subtle skill, "is now my official Imperial Instructor. As of this day, Basileus Narciss will be training not only myself, but any member of the royal guard, noble houses, or military forces deemed worthy of his time."
Basil twitched. I agreed to train you—not the entire militia?
Gasps echoed through the crowd, followed by a wave of excited applause.
"He is to be treated with the same respect as a member of my council. Any slight to him is a slight to me. Understood?"
Thunderous applause answered her declaration.
Basil leaned toward her shoulder and whispered, "I only agreed to train you. What was that all about?"
She leaned back, her tone softer now. "Please help me. No—help us. With your strength, we can put an end to Hell's Legion and restore peace to this continent."
Basil studied the sincerity in her eyes and let out a long breath. "Fine. But don't expect me to stick around forever. I've got my own goals. The moment I see a path toward them, I'm gone."
Mirian smiled, wide and genuine. "That's fine. I'll just squeeze everything I can out of you while I've got you."
Basil laughed. "Careful with a smile like that—you'll make me blush."
She quickly straightened her expression and turned away, cheeks tinged pink. "Hmph. Don't get used to it."
Together, they turned back to the crowd and made their exit.
Julie watched as they left. Yep she blushed, I saw it in broad daylight this time, she definitely blushed.
—
Back in the Palace
The group reunited with Basil, walking through the halls toward the royal quarters assigned to them, still stunned from the duel.
"Unreal," Adian said, his voice full of awe. "You made the Empress bleed! Do you realize what kind of legend that makes you?"
Basil scratched the back of his head. "I didn't mean to cut her that deep. It was just a nick."
"She could've gutted you if she'd used her aura and skills," Julie said, arms crossed. "That wasn't even her full strength."
Basil nodded. "Neither was mine."
Gyra walked silently beside him.
"You alright?" Basil asked gently.
"I'm fine," she murmured. "It's just… watching you fight like that. You weren't even breaking a sweat. I feel like I made a mistake coming here. I'm nowhere near your level… or Lace's… or hers."
Lace patted her head. "Don't worry. You're plenty helpful. And you can always train with Basil or me."
Gyra smiled softly, blushing a little. "Thanks, Lace."
"And my objective wasn't to win." Basil said suddenly. "I was trying to understand her. Fighting tells me more about someone than a thousand conversations."
Gyra tilted her head. "And what did you learn?"
"She's stronger than she realizes. But she's scared of her own power—and because she's got no one to protect, no one who really knows her, she throws her life around. I saw it in every opening she left."
Gyra said nothing, watching him with wide eyes.
—
Inside Mirian's Chambers
Mirian stood in front of her mirror, running a finger along the thin scab on her cheek.
She smiled at her reflection.
"It's been a long time since someone left a mark on me. I'll let this one heal naturally," she said. "A reminder."
Nella stood nearby, arms crossed. "That was reckless. What if he'd aimed for something worse?"
"But he didn't," Mirian said simply. "He could have—but he didn't. That's what makes him dangerous. He has restraint." Mirian said smiling widely.
"And charm, apparently," Nella muttered. "I still don't like it. If he had tried something—"
"He didn't," Mirian repeated. "He's powerful, calm, dangerous, and somehow… made me laugh. Twice."
Nella raised an eyebrow. "That almost sounds like a confession."
Mirian turned slightly. "Ha! As if." But the slight blush across her cheeks betrayed her.
Nella smirked. No way. She's actually—?
"I see," Nella said dryly. "Apologies for the assumption."
Mirian gathered herself and straightened her posture. "Enough of that. What did you learn about Vexley?"
"She's a researcher at the Institute of Magic. Most think she's a lunatic—but I confiscated a few of her blueprints. We passed them to one of our engineers. They were… impressed. Her theories are wild, but if they work, they'll change warfare forever."
Mirian hummed. So how did Basil meet her? And why is he going out of his way to support her like that?
"And the North?" she asked, tone shifting.
Nella's expression darkened. "It's started. Large forces gathering near the border. Camps. Siege machines. The war council estimates five months before they march."
Mirian's eyes narrowed. Damn. I hoped for more time.
"Prepare the generals. I want their armies en route to the northern border. But have them leave behind their most talented soldiers—I want Basil to train them. Spread the word that he'll be forming a special unit. That way, even those not chosen by the generals have a shot at impressing him."
"Understood. When do we move?"
"They march in three months. I'll join them on the fourth. We strike first. No more waiting."
"As you command," Nella said, and vanished.
Mirian sat on her bed and exhaled. Now… how do I convince Basil to help?
—
Back in Basil's Room
Basil skimmed through a book: History of the Goddesses. Most of it was familiar—things he already knew from personal experience—but he read anyway.
They've been quiet lately… I almost forgot they were watching.
He closed the book and looked up.
Sarien… I've got questions. Why didn't you answer me in the cube? Why have you stayed silent?
He closed his eyes—and when he opened them again, the book was gone.
So was the room.
He was surrounded by white.
The same glowing space. The warm sands. The still air.
And there, sitting cross-legged with an hourglass and scale in hand, was Goddess Sarien. Her blue halo glowed softly above her head. Basils heart skipped a beat slightly at her beauty.
"Hello again, Basil," she said with a gentle smile. "I'm glad you finally decided to call upon me."
Basil stepped forward, arms folded. "Did I not call for you in the cube? Why didn't you answer then?"
Sarien tilted her head. "Unlike my sisters, I am the goddess of order and balance. I can only interfere so much in the threads of time. For every action I take, there must be an equal reaction. It's the nature of my existence, Basil."
He frowned. "So… making me immortal was your action. The reaction was… me being trapped in that cube?"
"Yes." Her tone was soft, but resolute. "It was a significant intervention. Granting you immortality changed your fate. After that, I could no longer interfere until the scales were balanced again. I could only watch."
"That's… frustratingly poetic," Basil muttered. "But I think I get it."
Sarien nodded. "Good. Now listen closely. Mirian Althanis was chosen by the Goddess of Death to be her Guardian. She can be trusted. Keep her close—you'll need her."
Basil narrowed his eyes.
"She's going to make an offer. Whether you accept or not is your choice. But know this: if you do, you will encounter a demon you have a personal grudge against. That demon's defeat is tied to her mission. However, If you choose to refuse, many lives will be lost. That is all I can tell you for now."
The white space around him began to fade.
"Wait—I still have questions—!" Basil stepped forward.
Sarien smiled. "Then call upon me again soon. I'll be waiting." And with that, she vanished, along with the sand and light.
—
Basil blinked and found himself back in his room, standing before the bookshelf. A soft knock tapped on his door.
"Sir Basileus? Are you in there?" Julie's voice came muffled from the other side.
Basil opened the door. "Yes. What's up?"
"The Empress requests your presence in her office. She says it's urgent."
Basil nodded. I didn't even have time to think about what that silly goddess meant, why are they always so cryptic. He grabbed his sword belt, slung it over his shoulder, and followed Julie through the palace halls.
—
The doors to Mirian's office opened with a quiet groan. Basil stepped inside, offering Julie a quick nod as she closed them behind him.
Mirian sat at her desk, stamping documents with practiced precision. She had changed back into her black-and-gold uniform. Her scent reached him first—clean, floral, sweet. Her hair was pulled into a slightly messy bun, with a single curl falling along her cheek. The thin red cut from their duel was still visible, but no longer bleeding.
She looked up from her work, those fierce crimson eyes softening just slightly as they met his.
"You wanted to see me?" Basil asked.
Mirian let out a breath and rose from her seat, walking around her desk and leaning against its front edge.
"Yes. I'd like to go over your training plan, and… something more important."
Basil nodded once. "Do you want me to heal it?"
She blinked. "I'm sorry?"
He gestured to her cheek. "The cut. I have a healing skill. I could fix it."
Mirian reached up and touched the scab gently. "No. I want to let it scar. It's a reminder."
Basil frowned. "Of what? You don't seem like the type to collect battle marks. Besides, won't people say something since you have such a beautiful face?"
She turned slightly, brushing the curl behind her ear. "Just… a lesson I learned."
He studied her for a moment, then offered a gentle smile. "Alright. Can't say I blame you. I've got a few of those myself."
Mirian's mind wandered for a moment—imagining him shirtless, covered in scars, battle-worn, each mark with a story. She quickly turned away before the blush reached her ears.
"Anyway!" she said, clearing her throat. "About the training. What did you have in mind?"
Basil brought a hand to his chin in thought. "Given your strength, I'd like to start with some high-level Gate raids. Just the two of us. We'll start with Gates between Floors 45 and 70. We could handle A-Ranks together, easily. A+ might pose a challenge, but that's good for you. Then, for your final exam, we take on an S-Rank gate—Gate 80."
Mirian arched a brow. "You're confident we could take on a S-rank gate, just the two of us?"
He grinned. "I'm very confident. And when we're not raiding Gates, we'll work on your swordsmanship. I'll evaluate and adjust your technique. In our downtime, we'll discuss information you might have that could help me. Sound good?"
She tilted her head. "That's fine. But my swordsmanship? What exactly do you think needs fixing? I was trained by the best you know."
He stepped closer and gently raised her wrist above her head and to the left. "When you slash like this…" He moved her hand in a slashing motion. "You over-focus on the opponent's center mass. That leaves you wide open—right here." He tapped her exposed ribs.
Mirian flinched slightly at the contact.
He didn't notice. He continued, moving her arm lower. "And your thrusting technique? You stare at the blade's tip instead of watching their lower body. That's why I landed a kick—right here." He poked her waist.
Her breath caught. "O-Okay. I get it. My swordsmanship needs work." She pulled her arm back.
He smiled. "Nothing to be ashamed of. You got great foundations. But even the best need polish."
Mirian turned away to hide her face, flustered from him poking her. "Anyway, I also wanted to speak to you about something far more important. Follow me."
Something in her voice shifted—more serious now. Basil followed without hesitation.
This must be it, he thought. The offer Sarien warned me about.
[]
End of chapter notes:
Stats Window:
- Name: Basileus Narciss
- Age: 22 (639)
- Level: 75
- Job: Eldritch knight
- Title: Goddess's Guardian
- HP: 200/200
- Mana: 33,000/33,000
- STR: 205
- VIT: 80
- INT: 170
- AGI: 112
- PER: 60
- XP to Next Level: 25,300/30,000
- stat points available: 0
- Skill Points Available: 0
Skills Window:
Basic:
- Innocence (F)
- The King (A)
- Swordsmanship (S)
- Mana Control (SSS)
- Charisma (F)
- Crafting (B)
- Longsword Mastery (S)
- Mana Manipulation (F)
- Rune Knowledge (B)
- Healing (C)
- Scholar (A)
- Mana Vision I Guess (C)
- phantom step (E)
- mana slash (D)
- Earth spike (B)
- body reinforcement (D)
- Kneel (F)
- nova bomb (A)
- Mana regeneration (S+)
- poison resistance (E)
- GO AWAY CAN'T YOU TELL I'M BUSY' (A)
Unique:
- Immortality (EX)
- Oversight View (EX)
- Haggle (SS)
- Misfortune (D)
Inventory
- HP Potions x1997
- MP Potions x2000
- Winter Clothes (B)
- Summer Clothes (B)
- bread x100
- jerky x100
- piece of Tess (Removed)
- piece of Rob (Removed)
- piece of Lark (Removed)
- abomination horn x10 (S+)
- jagged dagger (?)
- mana sword (?)
Gold: 60,504
GC: 4,800