Capítulo 344: An Ice Flower V
Mo Zenith's silver gaze bore into me, sharp and unyielding, as if he could unearth every secret I had ever buried. I held his stare, my calm a well-honed blade, and let out a measured exhale when his scrutiny softened. Approval. It was not spoken, but it was there—a fleeting spark in those metallic eyes.
So far, so good.
"I have a gift for you, Arthur," Li Zenith said suddenly, breaking the tension with his usual air of composed nonchalance. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he tapped his spatial ring. With a flicker of light, a scroll materialized in his hand, its parchment radiating a faint, otherworldly aura.
He held it out to me, the gesture unassuming but unmistakably weighted with significance. I accepted it, unrolling the scroll carefully, aware of Seraphina leaning in beside me, her soft breath warm against my cheek as she peered at the contents.
My eyes widened.
Grade 4 art: Spectral Sword.
"It's an expansion of the Grade 3 art, Illusion Sword, that I gave you last time," Li explained, his tone as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Consider it a gesture of goodwill—for taking care of Seraphina."
"I don't need something like this to take care of Seraphina," I said, my voice steady, "but I won't deny something that will benefit me."
Li's smile deepened, a glint of approval in his eyes. "Perfect response," he said with a nod. "That Grade 4 art will help solidify your sword foundation as you form your Sword Heart to scale the Wall."
I tilted my head, curiosity flaring. "Could you explain more?"
Li's gaze sharpened, and he folded his arms, adopting the stance of a seasoned tutor. "Of course," he said. "The Sword Heart, as you likely suspect, is a vessel—a kind of metaphysical forge within your body. When formed, it allows you to compress mana into astral energy, provided you're using the aura method of mana management and channeling. You've studied seven-circle magic, haven't you? You know the labyrinth of calculations it requires to cast even one such spell?"
I nodded. "The equations are staggering."
"Well, the Sword Heart achieves that same level of power," Li said, his voice taking on a reverent tone, "but without the mathematics. It is pure instinct, pure will. That's why a strong foundation is crucial. The better your swordsmanship before forming your Sword Heart, the greater the power you can wield once it's complete."
His words hung in the air, resonating like the toll of a distant bell. The Sword Heart—it wasn't just a milestone; it was a transformation. A key to a higher plane of existence, one that required not just skill but understanding, not just strength but harmony.
"So I should spend more time developing my swordsmanship before forming my Sword Heart?" I asked, though I already suspected the answer.
"Kinda," Li said, the edge of his formality slipping, revealing the sharp wit beneath. "There's a limit to how far you can go without forming the Sword Heart—it's tied to your talent. But with your potential?" He gave a wry smile. "You'll master Spectral Sword while forming your Sword Heart. Since you've already learned Illusion Sword, the foundation is there. This art will refine it further, tempering it into something far greater."
Seraphina's hand brushed my arm, her touch grounding me as I stared at the scroll again. The faint hum of its power seemed to echo Li's words, promising both challenge and reward.
"I'll do my best," I said simply, my voice quiet but firm.
Li nodded, his expression unreadable. "Good. The Wall is not kind to those who are unprepared."
For a moment, the weight of his words—and the weight of the scroll in my hands—pressed down on me. But then I straightened, my resolve as unyielding as the steel of my blade.
The path ahead was steep, the Wall looming like an unassailable monolith in the distance. But I would climb it, step by arduous step. And when I reached the summit, I would look back and know that every trial, every battle, had been worth it.
"What are you thinking of doing now, Arthur?" Seraphina asked, her fingers brushing mine with a light, deliberate touch. Her expression was calm, but her golden eyes held a quiet intensity that was impossible to ignore.
I glanced at her, letting a small smile curve my lips before responding. "Return to the Creighton estate to focus on seven-circle magic before heading back to Mythos Academy for the fourth year," I said. My tone was measured, but a flicker of ambition seeped through. "But I'll also be negotiating some deals with them."
"Deals?" Seraphina raised an eyebrow, her curiosity breaking through her stoic facade. "What kind of deal?"
"I want them to offer me perks for continuing my upper years' education at the academy rather than striking out on my own," I said, my voice calm but resolute. "It's a trade. My presence bolsters their reputation, and in return, I get what I need."
"Bold, but it can work," Li Zenith interjected, his tone carrying a note of approval. His gaze, sharp as a blade, studied me with a hint of amusement. "Currently, Arthur, in terms of sheer popularity, you outshine everyone your age—even the princes and princesses. That's no small feat. Partly due to your achievements, of course," he added, his smile turning wry. "And, well, partly because you're courting three princesses. That sort of thing does tend to capture people's attention."
I shrugged, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Unintended consequences."
"Regardless," Li continued, his tone shifting to one of seriousness, "take full advantage of Mythos Academy. Its resources, its prestige—it's a stage unlike any other, and one where you can grow into the Zenith Blade the world expects you to be."
I inclined my head in acknowledgment. "Yes, Uncle Alastor suggested the same."
Seraphina's hand lingered on mine for a moment longer, but her grip tightened slightly as she spoke again. "So, you'll be spending time with Rachel again."
Her voice was calm, but the faintest tremor of disappointment—so subtle it might have been missed by anyone else—tinged her words. The serene mask she wore, so often impenetrable, seemed to crack ever so slightly.
I met her gaze, my expression softening. "It's not about Rachel," I said quietly. "It's about what needs to be done."
"And Rachel is a part of that," Seraphina said, her tone almost too measured, as though she were weighing every word before it left her lips.
Li, standing nearby, let out a low chuckle, breaking the tension. "Ah, the tangled web of courtly politics and youthful ambition," he said, shaking his head. "It's like a play unfolding before my eyes. Arthur, you might be the most interesting protagonist Mythos Academy has ever seen. And you, Seraphina, well... I wouldn't count yourself out of the drama just yet."
Seraphina shot him a glance, half-exasperated and half-amused, but said nothing. Instead, she turned her gaze back to me, her hand slipping from mine.
"I only hope," she said at last, her voice soft but firm, "that you remember why you're doing all this, Arthur."
I nodded, her words striking a chord that reverberated through me. "Always."
And with that, the room fell into a companionable silence, the unspoken weight of future decisions hanging between us like the final note of a song yet to be resolved.
Lunch had been a quiet affair, filled with the comfortable silences that often accompanied Seraphina and me. Afterward, I decided: tomorrow, I would return to the Creighton estate. But for the rest of the day, I lingered with Seraphina, savoring the unspoken bond between us. The hours slipped by like grains of sand through an open hand, and as twilight descended, I set out with purpose.
To find Mo Zenith.
By now, it was a foregone conclusion in most circles: I was Seraphina's future husband. And as an honorary Elder of the Mount Hua Sect, this status granted me access to places few dared tread. Titles carried weight here, and mine, forged by both merit and perception, opened even the most tightly guarded doors.
It didn't take long to locate him.
Mo Zenith stood amidst a sea of mist, his silhouette sharp against the encroaching shadows of the evening. He moved with the precision of a craftsman, his every strike carving through the air as though shaping reality itself. He was training in the Violet Mist Divine Art, a Grade 6 masterpiece of Mount Hua Sect, its elegance renowned, its power feared.
But not by Magnus Draykar.
I knew the art well. My master had not merely bested it—he had dismantled it with the brutal efficiency of a storm breaking upon a brittle cliff. Where Mo's strokes were precise and calculated, Magnus's had been fluid and overwhelming, a reminder that strength was not only a matter of mana rank but also of mastery and vision.
Mo must have sensed my presence. He paused, lowering his blade with a deliberateness that spoke of both control and irritation. His silver gaze met mine, sharp and unyielding. "What are you doing here?"
"I've come to strike a deal," I replied, stepping forward with measured confidence. My voice carried through the mist, steady and resolute.
Mo raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, waiting for me to elaborate.
This was no simple visit, and we both knew it. Mount Hua's fate hung precariously in the balance, its future as doomed as a leaf caught in an unforgiving storm. But storms could be weathered, and tides turned—if one had the will and the strength to shape the outcome.
I did.
It was time to change the destiny of the Mount Hua Sect.
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