Ezekian's gaze on me was soft and regretful. I could barely guess the reason behind his expression. A part of me felt a flicker of happiness to see his gentle eyes on me, but a much larger part of me wished to never see him again. My mind drifted back to one of the many days we had clashed—a memory that still burned fresh in my mind.
It was winter, during the annual meeting of the Court of Ignis. I was 22 at the time, freshly returned from a brutal campaign against the barbarians attacking the eastern border of Wymhold. The battle had been more dangerous than we anticipated, and it was nothing short of a miracle that we managed to kill the King of Barbarians. But the victory came at a cost. My legs were broken, and Alice Grace, my loyal vice-captain, had her arm shattered. Despite our injuries, we were summoned to the Court of Ignis immediately after our return.
Standing in the center of the circular chamber, Alice and I were interrogated like war criminals. I was nothing more than a duchess in name, the heir to a fallen duchy, while Alice was an orphan with no noble lineage. The aristocrats wasted no time in hurling accusations at us.
"Are you aware of the sin you have committed, Squad Captain?" one of the nobles began, his voice dripping with disdain. I remained silent, knowing I lacked the power and authority to defend myself.
"Out of 20 squad members, only two of you survived? Where was your responsibility as the squad leader?" Count Blueyerk, a member of the legislative board, bellowed, his voice echoing through the chamber.
The insults and accusations continued for nearly an hour, each one chipping away at my patience. I could see Alice struggling to hold back her tears, her broken arm trembling at her side. I glanced at the Emperor, who seemed to be enjoying the spectacle far too much.
Just as my patience was about to snap, I heard a familiar scoff.
"What else can you expect from the daughter of a demon worshiper? Who knows, she might have sacrificed the other 18 soldiers to demons."
Ezekian's cruel remark was the final straw. I had never been good at controlling my temper, especially at that age, but I didn't regret what I did next.
"You're running your mouth pretty well for someone who's never even faced a barbarian, let alone killed their king, Grand Duke," I shot back, my voice dripping with sarcasm. The room fell silent, the nobles gasping at my audacity.
"What did she just say to the Grand Duke?" someone whispered. "Can you feel the aura around her? It's suffocating!" another murmured.
Ezekian's eyes turned icy. "Am I wrong to assume you sacrificed those soldiers to demons, just like your father?"
"Grand Duke, you're insulting the squad leader!" Alice shouted, her voice trembling but defiant.
"Alice," I said softly, shaking my head. But Ezekian wasn't done.
"Oh, what a sight! Did you share some demonic power with her too?" he sneered.
"Why? Are you jealous you didn't get a share of it, Grand Duke?" I retorted, smirking as the room erupted in gasps.
Ezekian's face twisted in rage. "What did you say?"
"I said," I limped toward him, my broken legs protesting with every step, "do you want some demonic power, Ezekian Nordwyn?"
He snapped. Drawing his sword, he lunged at me, but I was ready. Our blades clashed, sending a shockwave of energy through the chamber. The nobles scrambled back as Ezekian's chilling blue aura froze the walls, while my red-black aura scorched them.
"Your words are too cruel, Ezekian Nordwyn," I said, my voice cold and emotionless.
"You deserve the worst. Why didn't you just die along with the rest of your family, Selentia Nyxveil?" he spat, his eyes filled with hatred.
I pushed him back, stumbling slightly myself. Despite my broken legs, I refused to bow. "Why don't you die yourself and ask God? Though I doubt someone as hateful as you would make it to heaven."
Ezekian's lips curled into a sneer. "For the daughter of a demon worshiper and traitor, you sure talk big."
I stared at him, disbelief etched on my face. "What is your problem with me, Ezekian Nordwyn?"
"Your existence is the problem," he replied, his voice cold and cruel.
His words cut deeper than any blade, but I had grown accustomed to the pain. I didn't let it show. "That sounds like a *you* problem, not mine."
The incident amused the Emperor so much that he didn't punish me. However, it did leave the Court of Ignis wary of me. The aura I had unleashed wasn't even three percent of my full power, yet it had been enough to terrify them. It was also the beginning of the bitter rivalry between Ezekian and me.
As I stood there, recalling those painful memories, I couldn't help but feel a deep resentment toward Ezekian. The man before me now was unaware of the future I had lived through, but I couldn't forgive him—not after knowing that his hatred for me was based on lies.
Suddenly, I felt something cold against my chin. To my surprise, Xavier, in his baby dragon form, was nuzzling me, as if trying to comfort me. I realized he must have sensed the tension in my aura, which always reacted to my emotions.
"Selentia, if this is about that incident, I'm sorry. But I think it would be best for both our families if we got married," Ezekian said, his voice softer now.
Xavier's clumsy attempt at consoling me had lifted my spirits slightly. I crossed my arms and looked at Ezekian calmly. "Ezekian, can you answer me something? Honestly."
He hesitated but nodded. "What is it?"
"How did your family get their hands on Ezekial's Lost Sword?"
His eyes widened in shock. Xavier, still perched on my shoulder, also looked surprised. I turned my attention to Slayer, which lay lazily on a nearby chair. With a flick of my wrist, I summoned it to my hand using Aura Projection. Ezekian's jaw dropped.
"No need to lie. I already know this sword's true identity," I said, a cold smile playing on my lips.
Ezekian gulped, his expression uneasy. "I can't tell you."
"How insincere of you! You want to rekindle our broken engagement because I unlocked the potential of this sword," I said, holding up Slayer, "and this one too," I added, summoning Shadow from the wall.
Ezekian paled. "So, how did your family get Ezekial's sword when it was supposed to be sealed away with Belhier?"
His expression hardened. "Fifty years ago, this sword appeared on the tallest mountain in Nordwyn. It was the harshest winter in centuries, and monsters were overrunning the land. During a monster subjugation, my grandfather stumbled upon it. When he held it for the first time, he received a revelation: 'Only the Chosen One can infuse aura into this divine blade and seal Belhier again. Once you find the Chosen One, follow the lead.'"
I was stunned. Why had I never heard this before? All those years, Ezekian had known the truth about Slayer, yet he never told me. How deep did his hatred for me run that he couldn't even share something so crucial?
"So, the seal on Belhier is broken," I said, my voice steady despite the weight of the revelation.
"It's likely," Ezekian admitted.
I wanted to laugh. All those years, Ezekian had known something so important, yet he kept it from me. Even after seeing me fight demons and cultists, he still doubted me. It made sense, given how the Imperial Family had staged everything so perfectly.
I felt Xavier tremble slightly on my shoulder. The demon cult had been preparing him to become a vessel for Belhier. If Belhier had fully regained his power, he wouldn't have waited this long to attack humanity.
"That's why you need to come to Nordwyn, Selentia," Ezekian said, his tone serious. "You're the Chosen One. There's a demon cult preparing for Belhier's return, and they'll eliminate anyone who poses a threat to their plans."
I nodded, a plan forming in my mind. "I assume this includes the five great families."
"One family has already sided with the cult," Ezekian replied sharply.
"Nyxveil isn't involved," I said coldly. Ezekian clenched his jaw, confirming my suspicion: he had doubted Nyxveil long before the events of the Darkest Night.
"You can't guarantee the rest of your family, can you?" he challenged.
"My father may be a ruthless merchant and a formidable politician, but he is not involved with the demon cult," I declared, my voice firm. For the first time in 30 years, I could say those words with confidence.
"Nyxveil has no connection with the demon cult. The sooner you understand that, the better it will be for you and Nordwyn."
Ezekian hesitated, his expression conflicted. "Just being confident won't prove anything."
"What proof do you have that Nyxveil is involved?" I countered.
He had no answer. I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. "If Nyxveil were truly involved, do you think anyone in this empire could uncover it? Do you think Zaphry Nyxveil and Althea Noctis would be so careless?"
Ezekian's eyes widened as if a realization had struck him. I turned away, done with the conversation. "Find the real culprit instead of wasting your time chasing a bait. Nyxveil has too many enemies."
As I walked away, Ezekian grabbed my wrist. "Even so, you can't ignore the risk."
I pulled my hand free, my voice cold. "I'm not afraid of risks, Ezekian. I don't need your insincere concern or your half-hearted protection."
I was done with him. The more I learned, the more my discomfort with him grew. But that was the consequence of his own actions. He had no one to blame but himself.