Shun turned to King Eldran, a confident smile illuminating his face, the remnants of anxiety and worry having vanished.
"Your Majesty, it is my distinct pleasure to forge this alliance with you, though I must admit I question my worthiness to undertake the mission you have entrusted to me."
King Eldran snorted dismissively, shaking his head. "Again, I am fully aware that you harbour no respect for me. I would prefer your honesty over hollow flattery."
Shun chuckled softly at the King's words, well aware of the historical truths that contradicted Eldran's self-assessment. Yet, he was wise enough to refrain from letting a fleeting moment of pride jeopardize the fragile peace treaty he was crafting with the King. From the King's demeanour, it was clear he wished to avoid confrontation. However, this did not imply a lack of power; perhaps the knowledge that Shun understood the true history of their kingdom was more unsettling to Eldran than witnessing Shun's true power.
Instead of revealing the truth outright, Shun decided to allow the King to rectify his narrative.
"Apologies, Your Majesty. Before I proceed with my inquiries, I hope you can assure me of my safety—both during the mission and upon my return." His tone was respectful yet unmistakably cold and direct.
The King's expression contorted with concern. Nevertheless, it was a request he could not refuse. Even without prompting, he knew he had to guarantee Shun's safety; the political ramifications of the young warrior's demise would resonate throughout the kingdom, particularly among his supporters. However, he maintained his composure before the two younger figures.
"I will ensure that," he replied. "Now, how many questions do you wish to ask?"
Alfred felt no fear over the inquiries posed by Shun; after all, a typical individual would never suspect that the kingdom's memory had been distorted by his own hand. Only a select few were aware of the truth. But should Shun possess such knowledge, he could not allow the boy to live, regardless of the potential repercussions.
Shun opened his mouth slowly, his words deliberate and steady. "Instead of delving into historical matters, I am more intrigued by a singular question—one I deem improper to pose to a king."
King Eldran nearly held his breath, prepared to summon his ethereal arm should the conversation take a perilous turn. However, reassured that Shun's query was not about history, he relaxed slightly.
"What is your ethereal ability?" Shun inquired with a disarming smile.
Eldran froze momentarily, taken aback by the unexpected question. It was not dissimilar to directly probing the truth he wished to conceal. Concealing his concern, he masked his emotions expertly.
To his surprise, the King responded openly. "The first ethereal arm, known as the Manipulator, is reputed to allow its wielder to assume any form they desire. While this notion holds some truth, its true strength far exceeds that."
Standing with poise, King Eldran swung his right arm, summoning a gleaming sword into existence. However, it was less a sword than an elegant needle, encircled by a luminous ring near the hilt. The weapon floated before him, suspended in midair, awaiting his command.
With a subtle gesture, the Manipulator glided toward him. As he halted his motion, the sword replicated into multiple copies, shimmering in the light.
"As you can see, this is my ethereal arm, the Manipulator," King Eldran declared, a slight smile gracing his lips—a reaction Shun did not anticipate. "Its true ability lies in its capacity to alter the memories of those it pierces."
Shun's gaze sharpened, eager for further elaboration.
"The rumours surrounding my ability are not entirely unfounded," Eldran continued. "However, there exists another aspect to my ethereal arm."
"I can use it to pierce my own body and alter my memories," he explained, his smile widening. "When my memories shift, so too does reality. In essence, I can become whatever I wish—all it takes is the alteration of my own perception."
Shun felt his confidence waver slightly at this revelation, yet he retained a steady and commanding tone. "There must be restrictions, am I correct?"
King Eldran paused for a moment, then nodded. "Indeed, there are restrictions, albeit minor ones. Yet overcoming them proves nearly impossible."
"When I alter my own memories, I must do so with absolute conviction, believing wholeheartedly that my new reality is genuine. I must trust my ethereal arm without the slightest hint of doubt."
'If not, then the Manipulator will materialize to its physical form, piercing me directly."
Shun was taken aback by the King's candour, uncertain whether Eldran was divulging the truth or masking deeper motives. Still, it was a surprise that the King had chosen to inform him about his ability to alter memories.
King Eldran concealed a smirk beneath a composed facade, this was his unique way of deception. His words were sincere, yet they were also laced with unspoken truths. He had no intention of revisiting the dark history associated with that formidable ability; it was not a matter of morality, but rather one of consequence—too great for him to bear.
After a contemplative pause, Shun shrugged and bowed again. "Thank you for your clarity, Your Majesty. Now, when should I depart?" He preferred not to linger on this topic any longer; it was a precarious line of inquiry he had already tread carefully. While he was no stranger to danger, avoiding unnecessary trouble was prudent.
"Whenever you wish, though I would advise as soon as possible." King Eldran resumed his seat on the throne, his posture more upright and energized. The swords before him dissolved into a cascade of radiant light.
"I am permitted to bring companions I trust, am I not?" Shun inquired, seeking confirmation.
The King nodded solemnly. "I will also send my reinforcements to assist you."
Shun regarded him with skepticism, recalling how the last group Eldran had dispatched had met a grim fate at the hands of Dharma Leyndra.
Noticing Shun's expression, Eldran cleared his throat, an air of embarrassment colouring his demeanour. "Trust me; you will be pleased with your assistants. I seriously doubt you will slay them this time."
"That was Dharma Leyndra's doing, not mine," Shun retorted with a wry smile.
"Regardless, what has transpired should be forgotten and forgiven," Eldran replied. "From this moment forth, we are allies. Perhaps we cannot yet call each other friends, but we are no longer enemies. As long as peace and harmony emerge from our alliance, I am unconcerned with the means by which we achieve it. This ideology stems from the Crusader King, and it now aligns with my own."
Yet, how could Alfred Eldran genuinely forgive one who had taken his daughter's life? He had sacrificed countless souls in a desperate bid to heal his son's silence.
Only he understood that the tides had turned. Shun was an abyss—an unfathomable depth he dared not confront. The nature of his being remained shrouded in mystery.
Revenge, he mused, is a luxury afforded only to those in power.
For him, and for Shun, such truths were undeniable.