Selpe's eyes widened even more, unable to believe what she had just seen. The mystery of the tower was far greater than she expected. It was actually larger and more luxurious than the castle itself. It wasn't strange though—anyone would be shocked and fascinated by its silent structure and the secrets it held.
Selpe quietly wondered how such a tower or such a place could even exist. How could someone build something like this?
She wasn't dumb, nor was she an ordinary person who couldn't think clearly.
From what she concluded, it wasn't that the tower was truly this mysterious or special. Maybe the gate led somewhere else, somewhere far beyond the State of Heavens, or even beyond this world, and what they saw here was just a simple tower.
—or so she thought.
In the open space, two tall figures appeared. One was a young man with short white hair and a cute face, his skin flawless and his limpid grey eyes almost shining with innocence—dressed in a sharp black formal outfit: a high-collared fitted jacket crossed by a wide sash held by silver chains and a metal dragon on the shoulder. Red gem-like buttons lined the chest, and long layered tails—one black, one red—fell almost to the ground. His pants were tight, decorated with chains and small metal pieces, and he wore tall lace-up black boots and gloves.
Brahmi De Forge—Mr. Brahmi—the Lord of the Plague. Known for his bold mind, bold look, bold skill, and bold presence. He was the only SS+ ranker, carrying the Grandmaster Mark Branch. He was the one who could not be defeated by anyone. He was the strongest in the State of Heavens—perhaps even the world. Rumours even said he didn't belong to this world, that he was a chosen one because of his rare grey eyes. No one in this world had ever been born with eyes like his.
Beside him walked another man with short black hair, a short beard, and a height slightly shorter than Brahmi's. It was Nimoo, the S-rank bearer, and he was no different from Brahmi in terms of danger. He was known as the Deceit, the Deceit Lord, the Trickster, the one who fooled everyone in battle, making them fall by his hand and beg for mercy.
Brahmi walked forward and greeted them. At once, he motioned his hand toward Selpe for a handshake. With a calm smile, he said, "Welcome to the royal, Miss Selpe."
She froze for a moment, dumbfounded—and even the President paused, as if ready to step in.
But she didn't want to seem rude. She quietly smiled back and placed her hand in Brahmi's, yet the coldness of his touch made her flinch inside, suddenly uneasy.
Brahmi withdrew his hand at once. "As you must already know my name—but still, I don't like skipping introductions. I am Brahmi De Forge."
The President cleared his throat. "Now shall we move."
Brahmi gave only a small smile and motioned with his hand. "Yeah, of course."
"Prince Alerous is waiting in the Lower Chamber."
The Lower Chambers were meant to be on the first floor for the princes. Everything above the first floor belonged to the council, where the King stayed day and night. The King rarely left the Tower.
They stepped inside the chamber after knocking, guided by the two top Sanctified.
The prince's chamber was wide and calm, lit by soft golden lamps that gave the room a warm feel. A carved crest of the royal family rested above the headboard. The floor was polished and partly covered by a soft rug with simple patterns. Near the tall window-like structure stood a sturdy desk with a few books and neatly arranged quills. Red sofas sat in the centre. On one of them lay a young man with black hair, wearing a grey robe, a book resting on his face.
Prince Alerous always spent his days in his chamber, reading books and sleeping.
He was the eldest prince of the State of Heavens. He was the only prince born with a mark and even the one who had forged his own mark. Yes, it sounded strange and unbelievable, but it was true. His mark was called the "Mark of Persistence." That was why he was hated and envied the most—not for physical strength, but for his mind.
Suddenly, he lifted the book after hearing the noise. He looked at them with his sleepy black eyes, wearing the expression of a child. It was his weakness—he could fall asleep in seconds. In simple words, he loved sleeping.
He always respected everyone despite his status, and that was what made him unique among the royals.
"Oh—"
He adjusted his posture and calmly motioned his hand toward the sofa beside him. At the same moment, he closed his eyes and summoned a knife—the Royal Vein Dagger. It was completely white, as white as paper, and at the apex of its small hilt were strange twisted structures that looked like strings swirling as if they were trapped forcibly. This white blade was forged from the royal blood of the first king himself.
Selpe sat down on the sofa next to the Prince.
Alerous asked for her hand by simply offering his own, without speaking.
Bringing her hand forward, she felt the warmth of the prince's touch, and without wasting a moment, he made a slight cut on her wrist with the white blade.
Right after that, the knife shifted like vapour and turned into a thin needle, quietly slipping into her veins.
Selpe didn't even feel pain, not even a flinch.
The white blade then turned black—actually countless mixed-coloured strings that darkened together, spreading from the hilt toward her vein.
Selpe felt a disturbance, a strange irritation moving through her body. But instantly, after a moment, it vanished. She felt fresh and light, as if some heavy weight had been lifted off her.
She was a royal now, with royal blood flowing through her veins.
"Congratulations, Miss Selpe. You are now royal," Alerous said with a small smile.
Remembering that the Sky Vein Ring was no longer needed, she knew she had to return it to the President.
***
Ibaan stared at his puppet, sitting cross-legged on the chair.