I extended my right hand. "Our kingdom faces a threat that goes beyond mere wants. It is revenge."
I closed my fist, steady and deliberate.
"We have one week's time until they arrive with everything they possess. I am hoping you will allow me to use your power."
This was not a plea born of weakness, nor a lazy gamble on chance.
I was no longer going to be idle, no longer going to drown in self-loathing or wait for mercy to find me.
I was no longer going to hope for the best and crave an outcome as if fate would hand it to me freely.
I needed to seize fate with my own hands and bend it into my design, because I am a king.
I am a ruler and a leader, and it is my duty to guide my people through fire and storm.
This was a fact I accepted wholeheartedly, and it was a truth I would carry until the day I fell.
Ouroboros looked at Lancerial, his golden eyes narrowing with calculation, before he let out a long sigh.
"Well, when you ask like that, it is difficult to refuse."
A small smile broke across my face, though the weight behind it remained solemn.
"Also, you will gain wealth beyond measure, and unlike my father, I am willing to grant you land and a title."
His head tilted, surprise flickering over his features. "My king, surely you jest. You of all people are aware of my sin."
[Nicholas had met many people in his life, good and bad, noble and corrupt, evil and just.]
I thought back to my battle with Griffin, despite all odds he was a good man.
[He had long decided he was not a good man, nor a righteous one. But perhaps that did not matter anymore.]
I drew in a deep breath, and the realm trembled.
Time and space themselves seemed to shudder, as though the infinite vault recoiled at my will.
"Surely your sin is less than mine," I said, my voice carrying the weight of confession as I revealed the mark that had defined me for so long.
Greed was his crime, yes. But to me, greed was only ambition misnamed.
His sin paled beside the curse I bore, the shadow I had carried since birth.
He stared intently at me, then, to my surprise, laughter erupted from his chest.
It was not mocking, but rich and unrestrained, a laugh that seemed to please Lancerial, who watched us both with something like approval.
"Alright," Ouroboros said at last, his voice steady and resonant.
"If that is the case, then so be it. I will put these old, greedy bones to work."
[Title Obtained: The Merciful King.]
Merciful, huh. Well, I suppose it fits.
[Nicholas would not be satisfied with such ideals; anyone who opposed him would inevitably feel the weight of his nature.]
Ouroboros's voice cut through the air. "You said a week. Allow me a few days to prepare fully. I promise my power will be worthy of your request."
I smiled faintly and bowed. "Very well. I shall take my leave."
Before I turned, Lancerial spoke, her voice cautious. "Do you know if this is permanent?"
Altering one's nature, or appearance, was no trivial matter.
It demanded precision, care, and mastery. Mishandled, it could be fatal. I, of course, had long since mastered it.
Most mortals, however, lacked such discipline.
"Hmm," I said thoughtfully, "yes. Permanent, unless you will it otherwise."
Satisfied, she fell silent, staring at herself in awe. At least she was not alone in such fascination.
As I made my way back, my gaze lingered on a few more trinkets I might fancy.
I had already claimed two of the most substantial pieces, so it would do to leave some for Ouroboros to covet.
Returning to where Mirabel and the twins waited, my mind drifted to titles.
Cassio had a few; Miraculum none. I could not favor one over the other. I needed two worthy titles for him.
[Nicholas, in truth, had a million ideas, but most were far too daring for my beloved second miracle.]
I dismissed the thought almost instantly, but as I entered my room, Miraculum was waiting, eyes alight with curiosity.
Cassio and Mirabel were bent over another construct of darkness, an entity difficult to describe.
Its form seemed to defy logic itself.
Miraculum's gaze met mine, focused, unwavering. "Daddy, I can see it, the darkness inside. You've found something."
Mirabel frowned, confused, while Cassio remained entranced.
I knelt and ran my fingers through Miraculum's hair. "And what might I have found, my Miraculum?"
He reached out, and before my eyes, defying every law I could name, he held the Roaming Giant.
The sword's gravity caused him to tremble, forcing Mirabel to rush forward and take it from him.
[Nicholas had not yet realized, but to someone like Miraculum, the boundaries of existence were little more than fragile lines.]
I raised a hand to my mouth. "A breaker," I whispered.
Mirabel held the sword with awe, while Miraculum's gaze lingered on me, searching, calculating.
"Daddy, you have more. Can I take them?"
Cassio, ever the opportunist, finally joined the fray, appearing beside Miraculum with a mischievous grin. "Give me something too, Mira."
Mirabel spun toward me, exasperated. "Just what is going on?"
I shrugged, an amused smile playing on my lips. "It seems our children are truly unique."
Despite my attempts to resist, Miraculum extracted another weapon from my inner world, the Silver Mercy.
Without hesitation, he handed it to Cassio, who accepted it with wide-eyed awe, kneeling in reverence.
After that he fell to his knees.
Mirabel exhaled, a sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, her gaze lingering on me. "So… these were gifts, then?"
I nodded, resting my hands against my cheeks, letting a faint smile creep in.
"And look at that, the surprise is completely ruined."
Her eyes drifted down to the weapon she now held. "What is this? It feels… potent. Not just powerful, alive."
I rubbed beneath my nose, suppressing a strange ache in my chest. "It's my mother's. Do you like it?"
She shifted as though about to draw the blade, but I quickly extended my hand. "No, don't. Not yet."
Her brow arched. "Why?"
The outfit she wore clung tightly enough already; I doubted the fabric could withstand the transformation the sword would invoke.
"Later," I murmured, my voice lower now. "When it's just the two of us."
Her eyes narrowed, curious but obedient, and she lowered the weapon at her side, glancing back at Cassio.
Miraculum sat on the floor, small frame slumped in quiet exhaustion.
Cassio, meanwhile, attempted to swing her new sword but stumbled under its sheer weight.
The blade dwarfed her, and with its immense mana capacity, it must have felt like cradling a star.
Yet even so, she managed to lift it.
Perhaps a few more days, and she would wield it as if it were her own heartbeat.
[Nicholas admired his daughter's resolve, and her hunger for power.]
No, not admire, condemn.
She was too powerful, the bars she set for herself almost ridiculous.
But her boldness… that, I could not help but respect. Bold and unafraid, she must have inherited that from me.
Mirabel now watched me with the faint glimmer of unspoken questions, which in turn made me question her.
[Nicholas suspected his thoughts were still too slow; he had been accelerating them for some time now.]
Maybe she truly could hear them.
Her hand slid over my head, fingers tangling briefly in my hair, and she smirked. "No, I'm not."
[Nicholas confirmed the notion, she could read the mind of a mindless being.]
"You know," I said, peering into her eyes, "saying that makes me think you are."
Her expression remained playful, but her gaze carried a quiet weight. "Don't you remember our wedding?" she asked softly.
The question sank into me. I thought back.
It had felt as though something deeper had been forged between us, a support, an awareness.
But I had never considered anything beyond my growing sense of her presence.
I could feel her when she allowed it, but I had always assumed that was one-way.
No matter where she was, I could sense her.
And perhaps she could always sense me. Odd, considering the very space we occupied was illogical.
[Nicholas realized his fatal mistake.]
Time stopped. Mirabel stepped forward and pressed her lips to mine. "There you go," she whispered.
When time halts, all else ceases, movement, cause, even breath. Space and its lesser concepts collapse, yet higher emanations still persist.
And at our wedding… our bond had not simply been sealed.
It had ascended, becoming something more than a mere union.
A laugh escaped me, low and incredulous. "You mean to tell me… you're actually inside my mind?"
Time resumed. She exhaled, the faintest tremor in her breath.
"It takes a great deal out of me," she admitted, "especially with a mind like yours, so full of… detailed accounts."
[Nicholas had just discovered an entirely new trick. And he could not wait to test it.]