The following day, noon, in the Garcia Mansion:
Rael sat at the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on his unconscious sister. Eon lay there, still as ever, her face peaceful despite the turmoil she had endured. The High Priestess had done what she could, repairing Eon's soul orb and treating her internal injuries with utmost care to the point that no one could sense that something even happened to her. Yet, her consciousness had not returned. Rael hadn't moved from this spot for hours—he hadn't eaten, drank, or even shifted his position. His eyes, heavy from lack of rest, remained locked on his sister's pale face, worry pooling deep within him.
The door creaked open, breaking the silence. Aurelius stepped into the room, his presence as imposing as ever. His gaze fell upon his children, but his attention was drawn to Rael, who was still staring intently at Eon.
"Azrael, you still here?" Aurelius' voice was firm, but not unkind. "Freshen up and come downstairs. After lunch, we'll leave for the Royal City. You have finals coming up."
Rael didn't respond immediately. His voice, when it came, was hoarse, weighed down with the intensity of his feelings. Without turning his head, he spoke softly, but with resolve, "Father… can I request you stay here?"
Aurelius furrowed his brows, an edge of confusion in his voice. "Why? Eon is at her home. I don't think anyone would dare try anything funny. She will be well protected even without my absence."
Rael's eyes remained fixed on Eon's face as he shook his head slowly. "It's not about that." His tone darkened, turning cold and solemn. "I don't want you to come to the finals. I don't want you there, watching the match."
Aurelius blinked, taken aback by his son's sudden, forceful words. "What do you mean? I have every right to—"
Rael cut him off, his voice low but resolute, laced with an undercurrent of dangerous intent. "You won't be able to watch the match with your own eyes, Father. I don't know who will win, but one of your sons will be crippled for sure. You might be fine if I get crippled, but you won't be able to bear it if it was going to be your favorite son."
Aurelius' face froze in shock, his eyes wide as the weight of Rael's words hit him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Rael continued, his voice unwavering, almost detached.
"If you still want to come, to watch us fight, I want you to take the oath of soul." Rael's words were sharp, cutting through the silence that had grown heavy between them. "No matter what happens, as long as no rule is broken, you will not interfere in our battle. You won't allow anyone else to interfere, either. If you can't accept that, then my sister and I will abandon the Garcia surname for good."
Aurelius stood still, utterly stunned by the audacity of Rael's demand. He opened his mouth to protest, but Rael's eyes never left Eon's face. His expression was blank, devoid of any emotion, and his words flowed as if from a place of calm finality.
"Before you say anything, let me remind you of our agreement," Rael continued, his tone steady. "I've already fulfilled my side of the challenge. You no longer have any right to interfere in our matters against our will. If you still wish to use your power to suppress us… that's your decision, Father. But we will never stop trying to run away, even if it takes a century. We will do everything we can to get the punishment of exile from Garcia House. That I can promise you for sure."
There was no anger in his voice, no bitterness—only a quiet, intense resolve. Aurelius stared at him, a swirl of conflicting emotions clouding his mind. But the one thing that remained unspoken between them was the undeniable truth: Rael's words were final. There was no turning back now.
The room was filled with tense silence, and in the dim light, Aurelius finally understood the weight of what his son had just said.
Aurelius understood that his son had truly considered every aspect before arriving at his decision. These were not the words of an eight-year-old child but of a warrior with unwavering conviction. The resemblance to Rael's late mother struck him deeply—not just in appearance but in the unyielding stubbornness she had possessed. Aurelius knew that if he refused Rael's demands, his son would carry out his threat without hesitation.
His anger at Raphael also lingered, fueling his thoughts. Raphael's brutal treatment of Eon had crossed a line. A few strategic strikes would have been enough to win, but Raphael had gone too far, showing no regard for his own sibling despite knowing the vast difference between them.
After weighing everything, Aurelius let out a heavy sigh and spoke with a firm resolve. Placing his hand on his chest, he declared, "I, Aurelius Faelyn Garcia, using my soul as the wager, hereby take the oath to the heavens that no matter what happens, as long as no indication of a tournament rule being broken by either party can be seen, I won't let anyone, including myself, interfere with your battle with Raphael."
A faint thread of scarlet energy escaped his hand, coiling into his chest and binding to his soul. The vow was sealed.
Aurelius' tone softened as he continued, "Now, will you go and get ready to leave for the Royal City, son?"
Rael finally turned his head to meet his father's gaze. His eyes, red and swollen from a sleepless night, bore marks of tears that had streaked down his face. It was clear he had cried more than once during the long hours of watching over Eon. "Give me one hour," he replied simply.
Aurelius nodded, understanding the depth of his son's resolve. Without another word, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
Rael exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly. Slowly, he gathered his legs into a meditative pose, sitting cross-legged on the floor. His eyes fluttered shut, and his consciousness delved inward, entering the depths of his mindscape.
In the vast expanse of his mind, the Reaper stood at the edge of a jagged cliff, gazing out at the endless horizon. His dark robes swayed in the unseen wind, the scythe resting against the rock beside him.
"Chronos!" Rael called out, his voice steady and resolute.
The Reaper turned, his skeletal visage tilting slightly in acknowledgment. "I was waiting for you, Azrael," he replied, his voice as deep and timeless as the abyss.
"I wish to unlock your powers by myself. Is that possible?" Rael asked, his voice filled with determination.
The Reaper shook his head slowly. "No, it is not possible. You and Eon should be fused into one being to summon me into the material world."
Rael's shoulders slumped in disappointment, but the Reaper's voice cut through the silence. "However, I can help you defeat your brother."
Rael's eyes shot up, a glimmer of hope igniting within them. "Really?"
The Reaper nodded, his skeletal form towering over Rael with an air of quiet certainty. "Yes, by momentarily unlocking the full extent of your ocular powers."
Rael's heart swelled with anticipation, but just as quickly, the Reaper's voice darkened. "But there is something you should be aware of. You are still too young, and your eyes have not yet reached full maturity. If I unlock your ocular powers, they will last only one day. After that, you will be blind for an entire year."
Rael's face fell in shock. "I will become blind?"