[BL]Hunted by the God of Destruction Chapter 283: Wedding

By the ti the procession arrived at the entrance of the Nun Grand Hall, the world outside had already dissolved into a fever of flashes, shouted nas, and the chanical whir of broadcast drones hovering above the gates. The front steps were lined with security personnel whose presence alone could have passed for a military parade: Nun Corp’s private guards in black, city officials in deep navy, and the Ministry’s security detail layered behind them in coordinated precision.

Every cara outside wanted the sa impossible thing: a perfect glimpse of the groom and the groom’s groom, as if Victor Nun and Elias Clarke were mythic creatures descending from the clouds.

Elias felt everything, from the heat of the lights to the prickling hum of recognition rippling through the crow, but it only touched him distantly, muffled by Aria’s soft weight on his chest. She was tucked gently into a satin carrier beneath his cream suit jacket, her tiny ear pressed over his heartbeat as if she had tid her entire existence around being calm today.

Victor walked behind him, one hand resting lightly at Elias’s back, steady and warm. The other hand wrapped protectively around the small of Aria’s carrier, as if any misstep by the world might result in divine retribution. The effect made more than a few diplomats swallow tightly.

They stepped into the entrance hall, leaving the chaos behind.

And the world changed.

The interior unfolded in pale gold and warm ivory, as if soone had carved a cathedral out of light. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling like frozen constellations, their crystals catching every movent in a scattering of soft brilliance. Floral arrangents spilled over balconies, with lush roses, tall white orchids, and delicate vines cascading like silk ribbons. The room slled faintly of peonies and warm candle wax, elegant without suffocating sweetness.

The staircase rising toward the ceremony hall was wide enough to be mistaken for the entrance to a royal palace. Each step glead under the glow of strategically placed candelabras, outlining the marble in soft amber.

Guests filled the expansive space below and above: ministers in tailored suits, ambassadors in handcrafted silks, corporate titans, and old-money dynasties dressed in fabrics that whispered wealth with every shift. The air carried the murmur of high-stakes diplomacy disguised as celebration.

The mont Victor appeared at the top of the staircase, voices dropped.

The mont Elias followed, carrying their daughter, the room went silent.

Elias felt Victor lean closer, just enough for his breath to warm his ear. "They’re staring at you," Victor murmured, an unmistakable note of pride woven into the low timbre of his voice.

"No," Elias whispered back. "They’re staring at you."

Victor’s smile was impossible to hide. "Good. As long as they know who to fear."

They descended the staircase slowly, every step asured against the weight of the mont. Aria stirred beneath Elias’s jacket, her fingers curling into the fabric. No one dared breathe too loudly as they passed.

At the base of the steps, Ego waited with the solemnity of a king and the posture of a man who had personally overseen the staging of every chandelier. He wore deep navy trimd in tallic thread, a subtle crown motif worked into the embroidery of his collar.

He looked at Victor first with pride, inevitability, and mild exasperation in equal asure.

Then he looked at Elias, eyes narrowing in a way that ant: ’You better not run.’

Elias bowed his head. "Sir."

"Don’t sir on your wedding day," Ego replied, though the corner of his mouth fought a smile. "You look acceptable."

Victor glared. "He looks perfect."

"As I said," Ego corrected, "acceptable."

Before they could argue again, the ceremonial doors opened in a sweep of golden light.

The hall beyond was breathtaking.

Vaulted ceilings soared overhead, adorned with frescoes depicting the rise of the Nun lineage mythic, intimidating, and embarrassingly flattering. Long tables draped in ivory linen lined the sides of the hall, set with crystal goblets and gold-trimd porcelain. Candles floated above each table in a suspended arrangent of hundreds, their flas moving gently as if choreographed.

The aisle stretched forward like a river of soft shimr, leading to the central dais where the officiant, a high-ranking official from both the Ministry and the Corporate Ecclesia, stood waiting with open hands.

Victor’s fingers brushed Elias’s as they stepped into the hall.

"You ready?" Victor murmured again.

Elias inhaled, his lungs filling with the warm scent of flowers and polished marble. "Yes."

The walk felt long, not because of nerves, but because everything else fell away: guests, caras, politics, and the expectations of nations. The chandeliers glittered above them, reflections dancing across Victor’s suit like embers in slow motion. Aria shifted against his chest again, a tiny breath escaping her as if blessing the mont.

When they reached the dais, the official bowed deeply before them.

"Today," he began, "the House of Nun welcos not rely a union of two individuals, but the alignnt of legacy and future, intelligence and power, devotion and vision..."

Soone cleared their throat loudly from the guests.

Connor.

Victor didn’t look back. "Connor, I swear..."

"It was getting dramatic," Connor whispered defensively, but loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Laughter rippled quietly through the hall, tension easing like a knot loosening at the right seam.

The officiant continued, this ti with a faint smile. "We gather under the blessing of those present and those watching from every corner of the world to recognize the joining of Victor Nun and Elias Clarke."

Elias turned toward Victor, eting crimson eyes that had softened in a way the world was not ant to see.

Victor’s voice was quiet and intimate, barely carrying across the dais. "I choose you. Today and always."

Elias swallowed, the words settling in his chest like a promise he’d already been living. "And I choose you. Without condition."

Aria chose that exact mont to sigh again, the softest exhale against Elias’s collar. Victor’s expression lted, reverent and undone.

The officiant lifted his hands. "Then by the authority granted to by the Ministry, the Corporate Ecclesia, and the House of Nun, I declare this union witnessed, sealed, and recognized."

A murmur rose from relief, joy, and the excitent of seeing two nations combine into sothing formidable.

Victor leaned in, brushing his forehead against Elias’s. "You’re mine," he whispered.

Elias exhaled, soft and certain. "And you’re mine."

The hall erupted in applause, rich and thunderous, and the chandeliers seed to blaze brighter.

Outside, the paparazzi went feral.

Inside, the elite of the world rose to their feet.

But within the small space between their hands and their daughter’s quiet breaths, ti slowed into sothing private and sacred, sothing only the three of them could feel.

Their family had just been made official.

And the world had witnessed it.