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37.5% I Awakened A Divine Curse / Chapter 3: I Awakened A Divine-grade Curse

Kapitel 3: I Awakened A Divine-grade Curse

Auren felt his chest tighten under the weight of the gazes upon him. It was as if a palpable darkness emanated from their eyes, dropping a crushing weight of expectation on his shoulders.

Yet, he breathed. He stepped forward, though his legs felt unbearably heavy.

He didn't want this. He had never asked for it. He didn't ask to excel with his sword.

He never sought anyone's expectations; he didn't want to be a vessel for others' hopes. He had never once expressed a desire to become a beacon.

So why had fate twisted something so vile upon him? Now, he bore the burden of millions of expectations, millions of passions to ignite and satisfy.

It was suffocating. But Auren refused to dwell on helplessness. Instead, he steadied his mind.

'One last time… let's take Relisé's advice.'

Auren closed his eyes and knelt, praying silently. He had never been a devout follower of the Archon of Light's teachings.

It never made sense to him to entrust his fate to something unseen. Yet, in this moment of utter powerlessness, he found himself doing just that—placing his fate in the hands of an invisible, uncertain force.

He knelt, shoulders tense, waiting for the priest's touch.

The tension in the cathedral was palpable. Even outside, the world was silent, the crowd gripping their clothes and fists, awaiting the birth of something extraordinary.

Finally, the priest's hand rested on Auren's head.

A sudden burst of crimson light erupted, not only enveloping Auren but shooting out of the cathedral and into the sky.

Gasps echoed through the hall and beyond.

"I expect no less from the Empire's talent… my rival," Lucien murmured, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

Auren kept his eyes closed, unmoved by the shifting atmosphere. Warm radiance coursed through his body, as if something deep within him was being unsealed.

Then he felt it.

'...Is it supposed to hurt?'

A sharp, stinging pain tore through his entire body. His limbs felt numb, yet he gritted his teeth and held firm.

The atmosphere changed abruptly. The sky darkened oppressively, and crimson lightning streaked across it before striking the cathedral, disappearing into the pillar of light.

The high priest before Auren staggered back, trembling in visible fear.

Auren opened his eyes.

Crimson light radiated from his body, interspersed with streaks of black sparks crackling violently across his form.

Eventually, the light dissipated, and the hall returned to normal.

The crowd stared in shock, many covering their mouths as strange expressions played across their faces.

Auren turned to the high priest, whose gaze was filled with disgust, as though he were looking at something degraded and vile.

The priest turned to the Pontifex, pausing longer than he had with the previous candidate.

Finally, he faced Auren again, holding a tattered black scroll. His voice trembled slightly as he cleared his throat.

"Auren Veyne… Divine grade…"

The crowd's gasps grew louder and more widespread, prompting the priest to pause briefly.

Clearing his throat again, he continued.

"Auren Veyne… Divine grade… Curse of Death and Darkness."

A heavy silence settled over the hall and the crowd outside.

Auren frowned, tilting his head slightly, unsure of what he had just heard.

'Did he say… curse? That can't be right…'

Raising his head, he addressed the high priest confidently.

"High Priest, I think you made a mistake. You said—"

"There are no mistakes, child," the priest interrupted, his tone sharp. "The Archon does not err. This is your fate."

Disgust twisted the high priest's face as he spoke, his eyes cold and condescending.

It couldn't be true. Humans didn't become Cursed. A human received a blessing from an Archon and became a Blessed.

A Cursed, however, was a phenomenon—a monstrous manifestation of negativity, the reason Blesseds existed.

Hate. Fear. Despair. When these elements took root and bloomed, a Cursed was born.

Cursed beings were not limited to humans. In fact, Cursed humans were rare and often salvageable through purification.

True Cursed creatures were independent, malevolent entities that manifested through negative emotions and wreaked destruction.

By all teachings Auren had known, it was impossible to receive a curse while kneeling before a conduit of the Archon of Light.

Auren raised his head again, resolve hardening in his gaze.

"Something has to be wrong! How can a human be cursed?!"

"Leave my sight this instant," the priest commanded disdainfully.

Turning away, he called the next name.

"Lydia Draycott."

A brunette girl with side buns walked past Auren without sparing him a glance. Her focused brown eyes didn't waver as Auren dejectedly stepped aside.

Auren's thoughts were a jumbled mess. The world around him faded into muffled noise, though he still heard the priest's vibrant voice as it announced Lydia's blessing.

"Lydia Draycott. Mythic grade. Blessing of the Azure Starfire."

Again.

"Gideon Crowley. Common grade. Blessing of the Night Light."

And then:

"Lucien Don Ryusmont. Epic grade. Blessing of the Eternal Lumina."

Lucien strutted back confidently, pausing only to smirk disdainfully at Auren before rejoining his friends.

Finally:

"Christianah Von Veymont. Divine grade. Blessing of the Luminous Zenith."

After that, Auren lost track of the ceremony. He found himself sitting on the last bench on the left side of the hall, unable to process how his entire life had crumbled.

'Even though I tried that thing called hope…'

In the end, it was useless.

But he wasn't ready to give up just yet. This made no sense. It was supposed to be impossible to receive a curse.

At the very least, the priests owed him an explanation.

Auren stood, but two sentries approached him before he could take a step.

The hall had emptied; even the priests were gone. Lost in thought, Auren hadn't noticed when they had left.

"We will escort you," one of the sentries said, his tone dark and foreboding.

"Escort me to… where?" Auren asked, gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

"Somewhere safe…"

Auren's expression darkened. Without hesitation, he began to draw his sword, but the sentry moved with startling speed. Grabbing Auren by the face, the sentry slammed him into the ground with brutal force, cracks spiderwebbing across the marble floor.

The impact was so devastating that Auren passed out immediately.


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