Only five minutes remained until the divine artifact would emerge at the peak of the mountain.
Nivaan and the young man sprinted along the rocky path, their breaths heavy, their steps echoing in the thin mountain air. As they reached the summit, a strange sight greeted them, clusters of raw energies, each of a different hue, converging like rivers of light into a single point.
"So this is where the divine artifact will emerge," Nivaan murmured, his voice calm but his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Yes, young master Arthur," the young man replied with reverence, "the tribulation will begin soon."
The heavens darkened as clouds rolled in, thick and heavy. The crackling roar of thunder followed, splitting the silence of the night. Nivaan raised his hand and formed a protective barrier around them, the translucent shield glowing faintly as bolts of lightning descended.
Each strike shook the mountain, the air buzzing with divine power. After several impacts, the very peak crumbled, collapsing into a massive pit.
At the heart of the pit floated the artifact of the guardian dragon. It was a perfect sphere, etched with runes so intricate they seemed to shift when gazed upon.
"Is that the divine artifact?" Nivaan asked, his voice steady, though his heart raced.
"Let me collect it." The young man stepped forward, hands trembling with a mix of fear and reverence. He lifted the sphere, and the carvings glowed faintly in response to his touch.
"How does this artifact work?" Nivaan pressed.
"This is only half of it," the young man admitted, lowering his voice. "The other piece… I have no information on its whereabouts."
A silence lingered before he looked up, his tone urgent. "Young master Arthur, I have one request. Please… do not tell my father about this. I will reach out to you soon, and as compensation, I will prepare a reward."
Nivaan studied him for a moment, then gave a small nod. "I understand. I won't report this."
Relief flooded the young man's face. "I shall take my leave now."
With that, they parted ways.
The next day, one day before the great event, Nivaan walked the streets of his estate disguised as a commoner. The market buzzed with life. Merchants called out their wares, bright fabrics fluttered in the wind, children chased each other through the narrow alleys, their laughter ringing like bells. Minstrels played music in the squares, and for a moment, the kingdom seemed untouched by darkness.
Yet in the midst of joy, Nivaan's eyes caught a boy standing apart.
The child looked shabby, his cap torn, his clothes stained and ragged. A faint dark shadow clung to him, whispering at the edges of his body. He watched the other children dance with longing eyes but did not join them. His isolation weighed heavier than his frail frame.
Nivaan approached gently. "What are you doing here, little one?"
The boy flinched, panic flashing across his face, and turned to run.
"Where are you going?" Nivaan said calmly, raising his hand. With a flick of his will, the boy levitated and floated toward him.
"Let me go!" the child shouted, struggling in vain.
Nivaan muted his voice with a wave and flipped him upside down, watching with amusement as the boy wriggled helplessly. His eyes narrowed. "You have a very unique constitution."
He studied the boy closely. "Do you sometimes suffer nightmares, where a shadow drags you down?"
The child's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"
Instead of answering, Nivaan summoned a burger into his hand and offered it.
The boy blinked. "What is this?"
"Eat it," Nivaan instructed.
Hesitant but hungry, the boy took a bite. The moment he did, the shadow inside him writhed violently, screeching, "What a delicacy… yummm!"
Nivaan's gaze sharpened. "Why are you hiding in this boy's body, destroying his core?"
The shadow hissed, its form lashing out from within. "This child has a superior constitution, perfect for my recovery."
"Submit before me," Nivaan commanded, his voice like iron, "and I shall grant you something far better than this frail shell."
The shadow snarled, "Why should I listen to you?"
Nivaan smirked faintly. "Don't you want more of these burgers?"
The entity shuddered, its hunger betraying it. "…Yes. I want them."
In a swirl of dark vapor, the shadow detached from the boy, taking the form of a writhing gas.
Nivaan clenched his fist, condensing the shadow into a small glowing sphere. The shadow wailed. "What are you doing, you cheater?!"
Ignoring it, he handed the sphere to the boy. "Eat this. You won't have nightmares again."
The boy's eyes sparkled with hope. "Really?"
"Yes," Nivaan said firmly.
The boy bit into the sphere. Instantly, ominous energy flared around him, his small body trembling with sudden power. Waves of unstable strength burst forth, threatening to consume him, but Nivaan suppressed the aura with a mere flick of his will. When the transformation stabilized, the boy stood stronger than before.
Nivaan patted his head, reducing his levels back to their base. Then he handed him a shining coin engraved with a sigil. "This is the coin of House Keinz. Show it at the gates, and tell them you wish to be a candidate for the magic academy examinations."
Tears welled in the child's eyes as he bowed deeply. "Thank you, young master!"
Nivaan snapped his fingers, replacing the boy's ragged clothing with clean garments, pressing a few coins into his palm. The boy's face glowed with gratitude as he ran off into the bustling street, his future forever altered.
That night, Nivaan lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. His mind replayed the day's events. Tomorrow, at the party, I may finally uncover hints about the missing piece of the artifact.
The following evening, the royal hall brimmed with nobles from across the kingdom. Gold chandeliers illuminated the marble floors, while silken drapes swayed with the murmurs of conversation. Laughter, music, and the clink of goblets filled the air.
The royal family had not yet arrived, but the chamber dazzled with charm and splendor. Noble heirs and daughters whispered behind their jeweled fans, exchanging both gossip and admiration.
Arthur (Nivaan) entered, his appearance commanding attention. The young nobles froze, taken aback by his striking transformation. His clash with the duke days earlier still lingered in their minds, reshaping their perception of him entirely.
A young woman approached gracefully, his fiancée. She lowered her head with a smile. "Welcome, young master Arthur."
"You don't need to act formal with me," Nivaan said gently.
"As you wish, Arthur." Her smile softened, glowing with warmth.
"Is everything well in Marcello Dukedom?" he asked casually.
She chuckled lightly. "My brother has been buried in administrative work lately, thanks to a certain someone."
To the others watching, the two seemed radiant, a picture of elegance and harmony. Their presence drew envious glances from all corners.
Soon, the trumpets sounded, and royal knights entered from the upper floor. The air shifted as the royal family descended, their majesty undeniable.
"His Majesty, the Sun of the Jelo Kingdom, has arrived!" the herald proclaimed.
The nobles bowed deeply. All eyes turned toward the royal family. Their sharp features radiated authority, their attire shimmering with threads of gold. The princess, known as the kingdom's greatest beauty, drew countless stares, while beside her stood her younger brother—the so-called useless prince, a boy dismissed as talentless.
Nivaan's eyes narrowed as recognition flickered. He remembered a face he had seen days ago in the mountains.
At the same time, the prince's gaze swept the hall. His eyes fell on the figure in a blue robe, and his heart skipped. What is young master Nivaan doing here?
The king raised his glass, his voice strong and clear. "Tonight we celebrate. My daughter has reached the age of blossom, heralding a new era for our kingdom, as foretold in the prophecy of the guardian dragon."
The hall erupted with cheers. Dukes stepped forward to greet the royal family one by one, including the Marcello household.
Near the window, Arthur (Nivaan) sipped wine, silent and composed. A royal general approached him quietly, his voice calm but heavy with meaning.
"Isn't the moon beautiful tonight, young master Keinz?"