Chapter 56: Upcoming Resolve
Silence hung heavy in the jade hall.
Only the sound of the fountains outside trickled faintly through the tall windows, as though even the city itself waited for what would follow.
The old man's sharp laughter broke it first.
"Ha! A spine of steel in a boy they all call worthless. Good—good! I like it." He slapped his thigh, eyes never leaving Waker. "I name you my disciple not because of your talent, but because of your resolve. And resolve—" he tapped the hilt of his wooden sword against the floor with a ringing clack "—outlasts talent."
The courtiers shifted uneasily, still unconvinced. Some muttered under their breath, but none dared voice their ridicule again in the presence of the King.
The King finally spoke, his deep voice steady. "Father," he said, giving the old man a measured look. "You've not taken a student in decades. Are you certain of this choice?"
The old man, smirked. "Certain enough to stake my reputation. If this boy fails, I'll wear the mockery of this hall on my shoulders. But if he succeeds … " His gaze swept the crowd like a blade. " … then you will all remember who saw his worth first."
Murmurs spread again, though this time with less derision. Some looked at Waker anew, as if doubting their own judgment.
Waker tightened his grip on his sword. His chest still ached from old man's blows, but in his heart, a fire blazed hotter than ever.
The King's eyes shifted to Waker, studying him in silence. At last, he nodded once. "Very well. So it shall be. But remember, boy—ambition draws eyes. If you falter, the weight of your ambition will crush you faster than your enemies ever could."
"I won't falter," Waker said. His voice rang clear. "Because my faith and my Will are stronger than any doubt."
Beside him, Nyra still lay unconscious, her breathing shallow. A pair of healers hurried to her side at the Queen's gesture. The Queen herself bent low, her soft eyes lingering on the girl. Something unreadable flickered across her face before she whispered to the healers, "Take her to the crystal chamber. Keep her sealed and safe until she wakes."
Masud's laugh rumbled again. "One dangerous mystery, one stubborn fool. Hah! My hands will be full." He turned back to Waker. "From this day on, you're mine to break and rebuild. Your path to becoming a Great Arcane starts now. Do you understand?"
Waker met his sharp eyes without flinching and said. "You're wrong! I'm already on my path. My path began the moment I first dreamed of even becoming a Great Arcane."
The old man became speechless as his smirk flattered and the entire hall stirred again, but Waker heard none of it. His heart pounded—not with fear, but with certainty.
Before the silence could settle again, a soldier burst into the hall. Bowing a little bit, he saluted. "My King! The soldier of Alucone City has awakened. He report that both Alucone and Antiarena are under simultaneous attack by the Order of Cards and the Scorpio Order. All communication lines have been heavily disrupted as well."
A wave of shock swept the hall. The courtiers gasped, merchants and adventures exchanged pale looks, and even the King's expression hardened. Meanwhile, Princess Zinab tugged at her mother's sleeve, worry painting her features. The Queen stroked her daughter's hair gently.
The King ground his teeth, his fists tightening at his sides. The teleportation gate to Alucone was damaged—he could not send aid or do anything at this moment. Yet in his heart, he knew this was no coincidence. The devourers' recent attack had been part of a far larger plan. But to what end? He knows clearly that both Orders were rivals, not allies. For them to act in concert or are they hunting different targets …
Waker's face went pale. His voice broke as he whispered, "My little brother … and the Guild. I have to go. I have to check on them!"
Masud stepped close, his tone softer. "There is a way to communicate them. Come with me."
Waker's gaze darted once toward Nyra, now carried away by the healers. Masud placed a steady hand on his shoulder. "Do not worry. She will be fine."
The boy swallowed hard, then nodded. He followed the old man into a waiting royal carriage.
The ride wound through the lantern-lit streets of the capital until they entered a quieter district. The carriage halted before a small, unassuming house tucked between narrow alleys. Nothing about it suggested importance.
The old man knocked on the door, "Hey! Are you home!?"
Suddenly, the door creaked open, and an elderly woman stepped into the light. Her hunched frame was draped in simple black robes, her hair a wild mess of grey. Yet her eyes—wrinkled and weary—shone with shifting colors, swirling and blending together like living gems, similar to King's.
She studied Waker with unsettling intensity before turning her scolding tone on Masud. "You came earlier than expected."
He chuckled. "Hahaha! Allow me to introduce my new disciple. This is Waker. We need your help to contact his kin."
Her multicolored gaze lingered on Waker, surprise flickering faintly across her face. After a long silence, she finally said, "Very well. I will help him … "