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Chapter 113 - The Weight of Tomorrow.

The scene continued to unfold as the dragon's dreadful words slithered from his fangs, gripping the hearts of all present with icy fear.

Alcmena began, his voice heavy with an unshakable gravity, revealing that the recently exposed secret project—the one that twisted innocent lives and attempted to turn them into soulless, obedient soldiers—was tied directly to Xavier. He spoke of the day Xavier had fled to Great Britain, guided by a mysterious figure, and how fate led him to the now-destroyed Latin Society. It was then that the veil was lifted: Xavier's true origin came to light.

He had been born to commoners—a simple child, no different from any other—until he was stolen away like countless infants of his generation to serve as an experiment for the notorious "Superior Project." Only by the courage of a single scientist, who sacrificed her own life to save him, was he spared that fate. Yet, Alcmena said solemnly, Xavier's tragedy had only begun.

The revelation struck the room like lightning. Graviil sat in stunned silence, while Aleksander's calm composure cracked for the first time. Violet's hands trembled as she covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. Her stomach churned in disgust as the nobles' gasps echoed through her mind. It all felt unreal—a fever dream she desperately wanted to wake from.

But she knew this was no dream.

Aleksander's voice broke through the suffocating silence, rough and shaken. "So... that explains it," he said slowly, almost to himself. "How we found Xavier... in that wooden container aboard the steamer, all those years ago... It was pure luck."

"Indeed," Alcmena replied, his gaze lowering. "That same project is why Xavier possesses no ethereal core. A coreless child—something that should not exist, yet does. Truly, fate is both cruel and curious."

He paused, his tone hardening. "And with that said... I can no longer conceal what must now be spoken." The dragon's voice deepened, resonating through the chamber like thunder. "Xavier—that child—has been chosen by the heavens themselves. He is to become the new hero of this age... the next wielder of the divine blade, Excalibur."

The words tore through the hall like a storm. Disbelief rippled among the nobles—gasps, whispers, trembling eyes. Excalibur? The name itself seemed too sacred, too mythical to be spoken aloud. Some murmured to themselves in shock: It still exists? It wasn't a legend? Others clutched at their chests as if the truth might crush them.

Alcmena continued, his tone calm but commanding. "Yes. The sword of Saint Sabestian still lives. I am its guardian—its keeper through the ages. My duty was to protect it, even if it meant erasing its memory from history."

He leaned forward, his golden eyes narrowing. "But now that your child has been chosen by Excalibur, you all know what that means, do you not?" His voice darkened, rumbling like distant thunder. "A great threat is coming—so dire that the High Lord Himself, the Creator of all, has intervened. He has woven a hero into the threads of fate."

His words hung heavy. "For without Excalibur's light, not only humanity, but all races would face annihilation. A threat equal to that which once walked this world eons ago... Emperor Julius."

A chill swept the room. Alcmena's draconic eyes glimmered as he turned toward Graviil. "You already suspect who this new apocalyptic force might be... don't you, Emperor?"

Graviil's silence said everything. He knew exactly who Alcmena meant. The puppet master of shadows. The man whose ambition had twisted the world itself.

Percival.

The name alone stirred dread in Graviil's soul. He had always known Percival was dangerous—but not this dangerous. Origin's direct intervention meant one thing: this man could not be allowed to live.

"It's Percival, isn't it?" Aleksander said, voice hardening as realization struck. "It can only be him... that bastard."

"You are correct," Alcmena confirmed. "Percival has unleashed hell upon this earth once more. Fate itself now brands him a true threat to existence."

His gaze shifted, sharp as a blade. "You've faced him before, haven't you... Prince? Emperor Julius—Grand Herrscher of the End."

The very mention of that name sent a shiver down every spine. Panic erupted; nobles clutched one another, trembling, whispering frantic prayers. Julius? Alive? Impossible! He was the embodiment of ruin, the end of all things. Defeated by the Seven Heroes—never to rise again.

Graviil rose slowly, his presence alone silencing the room. He lifted his left hand, commanding order with a single gesture. The crowd froze, fear yielding to reverence.

In that moment, he was not just a king.

He was the will of an empire made flesh.

The silence after Alcmena's revelation lingered like fog. Aleksander's gaze hardened as he finally answered the dragon's question. "Yes," he said, his tone low and grim. "I did face the Grand Emperor himself. It was him. I could feel no deception in his words when he told me who he was."

A wave of gasps and disbelief rippled through the hall. The air thickened with dread. None could fathom the horror of Aleksander's confession—it confirmed the impossible. Humanity's doom was no longer a distant fear; it had taken form. And no prince would dare lie in the sacred throne room, before his king and blood.

"We're all doomed!" voices cried. Tears streaked pale faces as panic spread like fire.

Graviil turned to Aleksander, his expression carved in stone. "When you first told me this—after we brought Xavier back to Russia—I doubted you. For that, I apologize. But now, with the Dragon King himself confirming it…" He exhaled heavily, shoulders sinking beneath invisible weight. "Even I, as King of this great nation, can no longer control what comes next."

"There's no need to apologize, Grandfather," Aleksander replied softly. "Anyone would have doubted it. That's what makes you a wise ruler."

He paused, his eyes darkening as he recalled the encounter. "But the power I faced that day…" He swallowed hard. "It's impossible to describe. It wasn't just immense—it was devouring. Space bent. Life itself fled his presence. I have never felt so concerned… yet so thrilled."

The hall grew deathly quiet. Even the sun's rays seemed to dim.

"To think that such a being walks this earth again," Aleksander continued, "and has aligned himself with the devil himself—it's something I cannot forget. The thought alone troubles me."

The silence that followed trembled with tension. Then, Violet's voice cut through it—sharp, desperate. "What… what does this mean for my little brother?" she demanded, eyes blazing through tears.

Her fear was raw. The thought of Xavier facing such monsters tore at her heart. Alcmena met her gaze with pity. He saw the denial in her eyes—the refusal to accept the cruelty of destiny.

"It means," Alcmena began slowly, "that Xavier's path is now bound to theirs. He must cross blades not only with the chaos of old—Emperor Julius—but also with the devil of this age, Percival."

He paused, his voice heavy with sorrow. "It is a cruel fate, Princess Violet. A path of suffering that he must endure. Should he falter… there will be no world left to save."

Something inside Violet shattered. The hope she'd clung to—that her brother might live a peaceful, happy life—crumbled into ash. Tears spilled freely, her body trembling as the weight of those words crushed her spirit.

"Violet!" Aleksander called, rushing to her side. "Are you all right? Speak to me!"

But she could not answer. She was lost in despair, staring blankly as grief swallowed her whole.

Alcmena lowered his head. His voice, when it came, carried both guilt and sorrow. "I understand how you feel, Princess. I wished for him to have that same peace. I truly did. But fate allows no joy for those chosen as heroes."

He hesitated before continuing. "To protect him… I made him my vessel."

Gasps echoed again. Graviil's eyes widened. "You what? You turned my grandchild into your vessel?"

"Yes," Alcmena admitted quietly. "I had no choice. Without an ethereal core, Xavier would never survive what's to come. Percival robbed him of that gift—and as the guardian of Excalibur, I could not stand idle. Making him my dragon vessel was the only way to ensure he could endure… and one day, rise."

He looked away, shame flickering in his gaze. "Without it, his body would have withered. His strength would never have grown. He would never be able to wield Excalibur's true power. This was not pride—it was necessity."

The dragon's voice softened, stripped of all grandeur. "I am sorry. I took what was never mine to take. But I did it to give your child a chance to live—and to save us all."

Graviil thought for a moment, taking everything into consideration before speaking. His voice carried a tired sincerity. "There is nothing to be sorry for. If it had not been for you being my grandson's Contractor, he might not have been here with us at all. You have endured more than most ever could."

Alcmena said nothing. His gaze drifted downward, shadowed by a guilt he couldn't name. Graviil's words were true — yet each syllable felt like salt pressed into an old wound. The silence that followed was heavy, fragile, as if the wrong word could shatter it.

Across the room, Graviil's eyes lingered on Violet. The girl sat with her shoulders slumped, her expression hollow. Even behind the calm mask he wore, sorrow seeped through — the kind that no mask could truly hide. Graviil's chest tightened. Xavier, he thought bitterly. If only I had killed Percival when I had the chance… maybe your burden would have been lighter.

His thoughts darkened. An empire powered by twisted genius and the shadow of apocalypse... not even the old heroes faced such a cruel fate.

He swallowed his regret, masking it behind the faintest of smiles as he turned back to Alcmena. The air between them felt strained, thick with unspoken things. "I am truly thankful for what you've done for my grandson," Graviil said at last, his voice steady but his eyes glistening faintly. "Great Dragon King Alcmena, you have my gratitude — from the deepest part of my heart."

Alcmena's tone remained composed, yet weary. "Your gratitude is appreciated. It was my duty to protect him — even if it cost me my life. Xavier's safety has always been my priority."

"It is my duty as well," Graviil replied quickly, his old pride giving way to tenderness. "My duty to repay those who have stood by him. Including the one who saved him when he was stolen from his true parents. Though… I suppose I cannot thank them directly anymore."

Alcmena's gaze softened. "Do not burden yourself with that. The woman may be gone, but her family still lives. Her sister, Victoria, served the Lantin Society. She now raises her late sister's child — the one entrusted to her before the end."

Graviil's expression shifted slightly. "Lady Victoria and her niece… they helped Xavier when he was in London, didn't they?"

Alcmena nodded slowly. "They did. And their kindness was not forgotten."

Graviil hesitated, his brows furrowing. "By any chance… is the niece the same child Aleksander and Violet mentioned?"

"Yes," Alcmena said quietly. "She is Percival's daughter."

Graviil's eyes hardened. "Percival… that damned man. He killed his own wife with no remorse. Why am I even surprised anymore…" He clenched his fist, his voice low and trembling. "He truly is a monster."

He rose from his throne suddenly, and with that single motion, his aura unfurled — faint yet vast, like the whisper of a storm. All eyes turned to him. "Enough," he declared, his voice sharp but resolute. "We will end today's meeting here."

He turned to his butler. "Viktor — prepare letters for the other three Great Households, and every major nation. An urgent summit must be held. Humanity must prepare for what is coming."

Viktor bowed deeply. "At once, my lord."

Graviil's gaze swept across the room once more, his voice carrying the weight of command. "And as for what was said here — not a word leaves this chamber. The world is not ready to hear the name Emperor Julius. News of his resurrection would send this fragile world into chaos."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the nobles replied in unison, their heads bowed, their fists pressed to the cold floor beneath them.

And in that silence, between loyalty and fear, the old king's heart ached — for his grandson, for his people, and for the storm that was already on its way.

Graviil approached slowly, his heavy steps echoing through the quiet hall until he stood beside Aleksander, who still held Violet in his arms. His voice softened, carrying a warmth that only a grandfather could summon. "Violet... worry not, my beloved child. Everything will be alright. There is nothing to despair over."

"But..." Violet's voice cracked, her tears glistening in the soft light. "That monster already took Mother and Father from us. You told us what he did to her... and now—now Xavier will face the same fate! I can't lose him too. He means the world to me."

Aleksander drew her close, resting her trembling head against his chest. His voice was quiet but resolute. "It's just as Grandpa said, Violet. Don't look so defeated—that's not the brave sister I remember. You and Xavier... you're my pride, my hope. The reason I still live. You, Grandpa, everyone—you all mean the world to me."

He tightened his embrace, the faintest quiver in his tone betraying his composure. "And I won't let that be taken from me. Not now... not ever. So don't be afraid, Violet. I'm here."

Graviil watched the siblings quietly. Pride flickered in his eyes, mingled with grief. This boy... no, this man, he thought. He will take my place when I am gone. The old king smiled faintly—a fragile, weary smile that spoke of hope and endings.

He reached out, gently ruffling Violet's hair. "With Xavier still in a coma, perhaps we should show our gratitude to those who helped him. I am eager to meet the sister of the woman who saved his life—and her daughter."

Violet wiped her eyes, her cheeks still flushed red, her expression softening. She gave a small nod, shy and earnest, her face a picture of fragile innocence that made even Graviil's heart ache.

Across the room, Alcmena stood apart in his dragon form, his golden eyes reflecting the fading light streaming through the tall stained-glass windows etched with ancient runes. The horizon shimmered beyond, painted in gold and crimson. He exhaled slowly, his mind heavy with what was to come.

He had long debated whether to tell Xavier's family the truth—to reveal what fate awaited their son. He had feared that doing so would ignite a storm far too early, that word of the new Excalibur-bearer would spread like wildfire and plunge the realms into chaos. But after all that had happened—their journey from London, its fall to Percival's flames—he knew the time for secrecy was over.

The weight of destiny pressed upon his chest. The Grand Herrscher of the End has returned, he thought grimly. Emperor Julius lives again... and the chaos he and Percival will bring will shake all four realms.

Only a handful could stand against such power now—the new master of Excalibur, Xavier, and the yet-unseen heroes chosen by the heavens. Together, they would be the last defiance against the fate waiting to devour creation itself.

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