CHAPTER 164: ABOUT THE ORB OF VEYLAN CLAN!

Elysia’s breath caught in her throat. Her hands reached for the orb.

The moment her fingers closed around it, a surge of warmth spilled through her veins. It wasn’t just heat—it was life, light, and something vast.

Her vision gets blurred. Images crashed into her mind like waves: mountains shattering into dust, rivers rising in furious floods, flames devouring the sky, and winds that could tear apart space.

She saw fragments of battles long past, faces she did not know yet somehow felt familiar, and shadows stretching endlessly into the void.

She gasped, clutching the orb tighter as if afraid it might slip away. Her knees nearly buckled under the weight of it all.

"This..." she whispered, her voice trembling. "What does it do?"

Her maid’s gaze softened. She stepped closer.

"It binds you to the legacy of the Veylan Clan," she said, her fingers hovering near the orb, careful.

"It will grant you strength in the moments you need it most, when danger and despair press in from every side. But that is not all... it is not merely power you are receiving. It will test you, Lady Elysia. It will measure the depth of your heart, the steadfastness of your convictions, and the strength of your will."

The maid paused, letting her words sink in.

Her eyes, soft and earnest, met Elysia’s.

"Should you falter, even once, it will abandon you. But if you endure... if you prove yourself worthy, it will stand by you like a shield—an unyielding protector against what the world throws at you."

Elysia’s chest rose and fell rapidly. The burden of the Oathblade still pressed heavily on her shoulders, a constant reminder of the challenges she had yet to face. And now, another weight, another responsibility had been placed upon her, heavier than she could have imagined.

Her voice trembled, edged with frustration.

"Why me? Why am I the one chosen for this?"

The maid shook her head slightly. "I don’t know," she admitted quietly.

"I only do as your father instructed. All I can do is guide you, and hope you are strong enough to bear it."

For a long moment, there was silence.

Elysia stared at it, feeling the pull of her destiny, and the impossible path she was about to walk.

There was a silence for a moment again, Elysia stood frozen, the Seal of Veylan cradled in her hands.

Her fingers tightened around its smooth, glowing surface, as if the orb itself could anchor her wavering resolve.

Her heart throbbed with conflicting emotions—resentment toward the weight of this legacy, awe at its beauty and power, and a quiet fear of what it might demand from her.

She wanted to throw it back, to refuse the responsibility, and walk away from the expectations of two generations.

But the seal pulsed in her grip, soft yet insistent, as if it wanted something from her.

The warmth spread through her veins, a subtle but undeniable pull, and deep down she understood she could not turn away.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I will take it. But not for you." She drew slowly.

"For myself. For the oath I carry. For the path I have chosen."

"That is a good choice, Lady Elysia" she said.

And so, in the dim light of the hidden chamber, Elysia inherited the Seal of Veylan. She felt the gravity of its presence, a tangible reminder of her responsibilities, a companion for the battles to come.

And though an invisible wall lingered between her and her father, the legacy of two clans now burned within her.

The maid stood quietly beside Elysia. "You must be wondering," she said softly. "There is no time for hesitation. What you are about to inherit cannot wait."

"Blood," she said simply. "The seal requires a pact of blood."

Elysia hesitated, then drew the dagger lightly across her palm. A thin line of crimson welled up, dripping down her wrist.

She extended her hand over the chest, and the moment her blood touched it, the runes flared violently to life.

The chamber shook, heat flaring as if a sun had ignited.

The chest opened, revealing a crystalline orb at its heart—golden yet marred with dark veins pulsing like shadows. Her breath caught. It was beautiful... and terrifying.

"This is the Seal," the maid said reverently. "It holds the light of dawn and the darkness of the war it once tried to end. Those who bear it inherit will gain power."

"How do you know all that?"

"Your father told me to tell you so I am telling exactly what your father told me" she replied.

Her fingers brushed the orb, and a blinding surge of energy ripped through her.

Visions consumed her: endless battlefields, banners burning, warriors dying, a figure wielding the Oathblade alongside another bearing the Seal. Two powers, intertwined, fighting side by side.

The maid steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. "The Oathblade and the Seal were never meant to stand alone. They are halves of the same will—the will to end war. But that will come at a cost."

Elysia forced herself upright. The golden cracks of the seal glowed faintly along her palm, etching themselves like living tattoos.

The Oathblade at her side thrummed in harmony.

The maid gave a small, approving nod. "Then may the ancestors guide you"

"Wait... the seal didn’t activate," Elysia muttered, her hand hovering over the crystalline orb.

The runes on the chest glimmered faintly, but nothing more happened.

Then, almost imperceptibly at first, a warmth spread through the air, brushing against her skin like a gentle wind.

The faint glow of the runes began to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat. Her fingers tingled, a subtle vibration running up her arm.

Within moments, that subtle hum erupted into a roaring tide of energy.

The very air seemed to hum and thrum, vibrating with a force that made her teeth chatter and her hair lift from her shoulders.

The chamber walls flickered with the reflected light of the runes, dancing shadows along the stone floor.

Elysia staggered slightly, her body instinctively adjusting to the sudden surge.

She could feel it then—raw, unrefined power coiling within her like a living thing. It was not like any ordinary magic or skill she had ever encountered.

It was first-class, primal energy, coursing through her veins, urging her to move, to fight, to expand her limits.

Every muscle, every nerve, every beat of her heart seemed connected to the seal, as if it were awakening something dormant inside her.