Before Azrael could ask Fraus yet again what this was, a sudden surge of energy coursed through his body, causing his ring to glow brighter. He watched in awe as the ring vanished from his finger, replaced by something entirely unexpected. An audible gasp escaped his lips as he realized that he was now holding a bow—an actual, tangible bow—in his hand.
"It... it's a spiritual weapon?" Azrael murmured, his eyes wide with amazement as he inspected the beautifully crafted weapon. It glowed with a soft, ethereal light, its intricate designs mesmerizing to behold.
'I can't believe it. I'm holding an actual spiritual weapon!' The young prince thought inside his mind, he could physically feel that there was something different about the bow he was holding. He could not quite explain what he was feeling, but it felt calming and powerful.
But as he admired the wondrous gift, a realization dawned on him. 'Wait. What about Eirian? The whole point of this was to get him a sword—'
As soon as Azrael thought that, he turned to look at the black-haired protagonist. Eirian's gaze flickered from the bracelet on his wrist to Azrael, a hint of surprise evident in his eyes since he saw what happened with the young prince's ring.
Slowly, as if unsure of what he was doing, he raised his hand and turned it slightly, mimicking Azrael's earlier gesture. To his amazement, the bracelet on his wrist began to glow, emitting a soft, ethereal light that illuminated the clearing.
Azrael watched with bated breath as an object materialized in Eirian's hand, glowing with a radiant energy that seemed to pulse with power. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized the shape of the object—a sword.
"It's a sword. A spiritual sword just like I said." Azrael breathes out, almost in disbelief that his words, his promises came true.
As the sword materialized fully in Eirian's hand, Azrael's attention shifted from his own bow to the weapon in Eirian's grasp. He felt a surge of joy welling up inside him, threatening to spill over as he realized the significance of what had just occurred. This was it, the moment he had been waiting for, the culmination of his efforts to help Eirian.
For once since his arrival in this novel, in this world, his plan succeeded and went accordingly. Even with the bonus of being able to confirm that he can use Azrael Celestria's magic.
He fought back from yelling due to his happiness as he gazed at the sword, its black obsidian blade adorned with yellow mana stones shimmering in the light. It was a sight to behold, a symbol of power and strength that would aid Eirian in his quest to save the empire. And yet, there was something more, something that tugged at Azrael's heartstrings and filled him with a sense of pride.
'It's just like how it was described in the novel! It's...it's fate!' He exclaims internally. 'Only, there's something different.'
There was a pink flower painted on the blade. A design that was never mentioned in the novel when it described Eirian's sword. Though it was a small detail that seemed inconsequential at first glance, it felt like it had some significance.
As Azrael stared at the sword, lost in his thoughts, he suddenly felt Eirian's gaze upon him. Startled, he looked up to meet the protagonist's eyes, finding himself drawn into their depths. There was a depth to Eirian's gaze, a silent acknowledgment towards the young prince.
It was then that Azrael remembered Eirian's words earlier.
"If it's any consolation, Your Highness. I do believe in your intentions now."
For some reason, when Azrael recalled that, he could feel his face warm up.
Well, it was not for some reason.
He knew the reason.
Due to the seriousness of his situation and doing his best to gain Eirian's trust, he has never been given the chance to properly fanboy over his favorite character.
And now, the fact that Eirian himself mentioned that he believed in his intentions...it felt so good.
Azrael was aware that he should not get his hopes up because Eirian believing in him did not mean they were friends, nor that he even sees Azrael as a friend.
Still...
"It is as you said, Your Highness."
"What?" Azrael was snapped out
"A spiritual sword," Eirian repeated Azrael words minutes ago, his voice calm yet tinged with awe as he regarded the weapon in his hand.
Azrael couldn't contain his joy any longer. A wide smile spread across his face as he exclaimed, "I'm so happy for you, Eirian!" His words poured forth without restraint, fueled by the overwhelming sense of pride and accomplishment that filled his heart.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"I'm so happy for you, Eirian!"
Eirian swallowed a big lump from his throat as he stared at the imperial prince, he had no idea why but hearing Azrael's words and seeing him smile in a way that seemed that he was genuinely happy for him.
Well, then on the first time they spoke, Azrael had been smiling towards him, rather than the usual sneers from others.
It just felt different now.
Eirian, for the last couple of days, debated whether or not he should have accompanied Azrael on his trip because he somewhat regretted offering to come with him.
After all, it was the first time Eirian would leave the academy. He would often just leave during breaks and go straight to Wycliffe, no matter how far the travel was. He never saw the point of staying in a place where he was unwanted.
But at the same time, he wanted to see whether or not Azrael was genuine, and he could not, in all good conscience, let Azrael go out there alone.
So, despite his hesitations he still submitted his request to leave the academy and went.
It was...interesting.
The whole time as they walked, Azrael just talked.
He talked as if they were good friends, as if they had known each other for a long time, and as usual Azrael spoke to him in a way that did not make Eirian feel uncomfortable at all.
The young prince kept his boundaries, and he did not know whether or not that was a coincidence. Still, Eirian kept his distance because for him, Azrael was quite odd.
It was odd that Azrael wanted to help him.
It was odd that Azrael is so attentive to him.
...it was odd that Azrael, an imperial prince who could not even bear walking for more than an hour, was ready to sacrifice himself for Eirian's sake.
Eirian, the stain of the empire.
The cursed prince.
The one born with darkness.
Even using his magical abilities to the point where he could barely move, just to keep him safe. Eirian wondered...why go through all that? It was obvious that there were other things that Azrael was not telling him, but are those things so important that he would leave the comforts of his status to help someone like Eirian?
Perhaps.
But it was still odd.
It was even odder when Eirian, himself, started feeling differently. He who had never valued anyone but himself and his father, the only one who supported and loved him.
He was so ready to take all of the worst punishments so that Azrael would no longer have to push himself for Eirian's sake.
It was unlike him to do so, but it was also the point where he could not deny it any further that for whatever reason...
Azrael Celestria was determined to help him.
His plans are still not clear, but his intentions are. As much as Eirian did not want to let his curiosity get the best of him, this time it did not disappoint.
Of course, Eirian still did not fully trust the young prince, but now he at least wants to try whatever Azrael says.
Especially now that he is holding a sword in his hand, a sword that he could feel was different from all the ones he has held. It was as he said.
The moment the sword appeared, he expected Azrael to celebrate his feats. To say something like "There, I have provided you with a sword as promised, so trust me now."
Strangely enough, Azrael smiles at Eirian, with a look that could only be described as being proud, but not of himself.
No.
It seemed as though he was proud of Eirian.
'Why does it seem like he's giving me all the credit? As if this was my achievement...when he is the one who planned this?'
As usual though, his question would not have an answer.
Because Azrael Celestria was a mystery.
This time, however, Eirian feels as though he does not have to hold back his curiosity.
So, he calms himself down, because for whatever reason his heart was beating fast against his chest, and once he felt a bit more composed his eyes met with Azrael's and then he said the only thing he could think of saying.
"You really are quite strange, Your Highness."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
"What?"
Caelum's eyes widened, a menacing aura surrounding him as he clenched his fists. The room seemed to tremble in response to his overwhelming anger, his magical abilities overflowing and crackling with unrestrained power.
Stefhan, his loyal servant, squeaked in fear, his voice barely audible in the oppressive atmosphere that filled the room. "Y-Your Highness..." he stammered, his gaze darting nervously towards the door. He knew all too well the consequences of Caelum's outbursts, especially with the imperial crown prince nearby.
But Caelum paid no heed to Stefhan's concerns. His focus was singular, his mind consumed by the revelation that had ignited the flames of his rage. His voice, when he spoke, resonated with an otherworldly echo, tinged with a hint of something dark and menacing.
"Repeat what you told me," Caelum demanded, his tone sharp and commanding.
Stefhan trembled under Caelum's intense gaze, unable to form coherent words in the face of his master's fury. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound emerged, his throat constricted with fear.
Frustration flared within Caelum as he realized Stefhan's hesitation. Without warning, he raised his arms, and tendrils of black smoke began to swirl around the trembling servant. Stefhan's eyes widened in terror as he felt the suffocating pressure of Caelum's magic bearing down on him, his lungs burning with each labored breath.
"I—cough—Your...highness," Stefhan choked out, his voice strained and raspy.
Caelum's gaze bore into Stefhan with a ferocity that made the servant shrink back in fear. "I said repeat what you told me," Caelum reiterated, his voice cold and commanding.
Struggling to speak through the haze of pain and fear, Stefhan managed to convey the message. "Eirian...requested a leave...for...t-today...and left the same hour...as the s-second...imperial prince," he gasped, his words punctuated by ragged breaths.
Confirmation of what he had heard only served to fuel Caelum's fury. With a flick of his hand, he sent Stefhan hurtling across the room, the servant colliding with the wall with a resounding thud.
As Stefhan lay crumpled on the ground, relief flooded through him at the cessation of Caelum's magic. He dared not utter another word, his body trembling with the aftermath of his master's wrath.
Meanwhile, Caelum stood at his desk, his white hair disheveled as he ran a hand through it in frustration. Anger coursed through his veins, a tempest of emotions raging within him as he struggled to contain the overwhelming fury that threatened to consume him.
"Ha...I was not even sure at first." Caelum muttered as he stared at his desk that was starting to crack and break. "I was supposed to be one step ahead, but I guess that damn brat is smarter than his useless brother."
"That useless imperial Prince and that eyesore Eirian are working together."
The words hung heavy in the air as Caelum's mind raced with questions and uncertainty. But why? How? How could this have happened? How had he underestimated Azrael's intelligence and Eirian's determination?
No, that was impossible. Azrael, the supposed spare prince, had never posed a threat in Caelum's eyes. He had dismissed him as nothing more than a rebellious nuisance, seeking attention and favor from his brother and his brother's friend., and Caelum made sure Eirian would never ever be able to have a moment of peace. He made sure that nobody would ever even dare to pity the 'cursed prince.'
But now, as he pieced together the events that had transpired recently and the damned prince's change of behavior, Caelum couldn't shake the feeling that Azrael knew something—something that could jeopardize everything he had worked so hard to achieve.
No, it was more than a feeling. Caelum was certain that Azrael held knowledge that could unravel his carefully laid plans. The thought sent a chill down his spine, igniting a fierce determination within him to uncover the truth and silence Azrael before it was too late.
"This won't do." With a resolute expression, Caelum stood up from his desk, releasing his grip on its cracked surface. He took a moment to compose himself, straightening his coat and smoothing down his disheveled hair. Despite the storm of emotions raging inside him, he remained outwardly composed, his features a mask of icy determination.
As he walked past Stefhan, who still bowed his head in deference, Caelum's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "Be sure to find out where they went," he ordered, his tone commanding and authoritative. "I have something to do."
Stefhan nodded silently, his fear palpable as Caelum walked out with only his thoughts to accompany him.
'The Academic Olympiad is right around the corner. I just have to make a few changes to my plans.' Caelum smirks as he pushes his hair away from his shoulders
'Whatever your planning, little prince, I'll find out and make sure you regret ever trying to go against me.'