Lathel shook his head and said, "The conflict between the Church and the nobility is inevitable, but what we really need... is conflict between the believers and the common people."
Upon hearing this, Catherine imdiately smiled at Lathel and asked, "Lathel, do you think the Church will oppress the commoners?"
Lathel stroked his chin, pretending to think, and replied, "Mother, the Church preaches love and tolerance—they wouldn’t do sothing like that."
"However, we still need to be careful. The Church’s followers are fanatics, willing to risk everything to do horrifying things."
"We must prioritize the safety of our people—especially you."
Catherine laughed in satisfaction, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Don’t worry. I’m strong—no one can harm ."
"But... Lathel, are you truly confident about winning that duel?"
Lathel sighed and shook his head. "Mother, even if I can’t win, I’ll do my best not to lose too badly."
"Lathel, if you can’t win, then there’s no need for you to join such a pointless duel. I can protect you." Catherine gently stroked his face.
Lathel shook his head. "Mother, there are things I need to do. Even if I know I’ll lose, I still need to face it."
"Besides, this is the royal family’s honor at stake. If I win, our family’s reputation will soar, and Theobald’s influence will drop significantly."
Catherine sighed, "So you already know?"
Lathel nodded. "Theobald—the forr Grand General of the previous king. Forty years ago, he suddenly retired to enjoy old age."
"But his influence and ability to mobilize the army are still imnse."
Catherine nodded gently. "Yes. Even though he’s retired, his power is still overwhelming. Nearly all the high-ranking officers in the army are his loyal subordinates."
Hearing this, a hint of weariness flickered across Lathel’s face, though inside, he remained perfectly calm.
After all, Theobald was Lucien’s grandfather. If he were just a useless old man, how could he be the pillar behind Lucien’s rebellion?
With protagonists like Lucien, once they challenge the prince, their ultimate goal is always the royal family.
It’s a common trope. Just by looking at Lucien’s information, Lathel could already guess half of the plot that lay ahead.
Moreover, in the description of Saintess Viviane, she’s even said to cooperate with Lucien in overthrowing the royal family. If not for the military’s power, the royal house would never be so easily toppled.
That’s why Lathel set his sights not only on Lucien, but on the entire Vortan clan.
Catherine sighed. "Ah! Even though Theobald appears loyal to the royal family, I’ve just received word that he’s on the verge of breaking through to Level 5 – Elite."
"If he succeeds, then..."
Lathel nodded. "Mother, don’t worry. We’ll find a way to break this chessboard."
Catherine nodded. "Uhm! When will you depart?"
"Tonight. If all goes smoothly, Selvia and I will reach the Academy by tomorrow morning," Lathel answered.
"Good! Focus on the duel, I’ll take care of the rest." Catherine smiled confidently. "I refuse to believe that in this kingdom, Theobald and the Church could really rise in rebellion."
"All right, let’s not talk about these things anymore. Lathel, I have a gift for you."
Clap! Clap!
Catherine suddenly clapped her hands, and two maids pushed in a cart, atop which was a tray.
What made the tray remarkable was a long spear, about two ters in length.
The shaft was jet black, streaked with faint golden veins that shimred in the light.
The blade was razor-sharp, inscribed with delicate crimson runes, each line seemingly drawn by a master’s hand.
Even from a distance, Lathel could feel the power, the age, and the presence of ti radiating from the spear.
"Lathel, this spear is called Celesthalis. It’s a weapon I acquired after conquering a small kingdom," Catherine explained.
"I found it in a hidden underground chamber. Apparently, the king of that nation treasured it above all else, treating it as a sacred relic."
"But after bringing it back here, even the best smiths in the kingdom could not determine its true purpose or full might. According to their speculation, its rank is at least C. If soone could awaken its hidden power, its rank might be even higher."
As Catherine explained, Lathel stared at Celesthalis.
"Hm?!" Lathel was startled.
He suddenly felt a strange connection between himself and the spear.
A wave of ancient, mysterious, and terrifying aura invaded his mind.
It was as if... a pair of eyes were gazing right at him.
Those eyes were filled with malice and murderous intent, so intense that sweat instantly drenched Lathel as if he’d just stepped out of a bath.
Catherine imdiately noticed sothing was wrong with Lathel, her brows furrowing in concern: "Lathel, are you all right?"
Lathel didn’t answer. His gaze remained fixed on the Celesthalis spear, while at the sa ti, he watched the System’s information panel hovering before him.
🔔 [Congratulations, Master! You have discovered your Life-Bound Weapon: Celesthalis – The Spear of Divine Accord.]
...
Rank: C (Sealed)
Description: Bearing the power of one betrayed by the Gods, Celesthalis seeks a new master, one who will help it enact vengeance and destroy those who cast it down from Eden Garden to Hell.
Destiny: According to the main storyline, after losing his duel with Lucien, Lathel returns to the kingdom and wields this spear as his primary weapon.
However, Lathel’s mind is eventually corroded by the spear’s evil, turning him into a madman who kills like a monster.
In the end, he’s slain by Lucien, and the spear is taken by Lucien’s Master, who breaks it down as raw material to forge a Divine Sword for him.
...
Lathel stared at the description on the System panel, then locked eyes with Celesthalis.
"Co here..."
Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind—a chorus of voices, impossible to tell if they were male or female, old or young.
The voice was grotesquely distorted, as if it were coming from a broken cassette, the words warped and stretched.
"Take ..."
"Beco my servant... and I... shall grant you power."
"I will help you take revenge..."
"I will grant you every wish you desire."
From the spear, a wave of malevolent, inky-black aura seeped outward, like dark smoke, causing the two maids nearby to imdiately faint.
Catherine saw that things were going awry and quickly raised her hand.
Magical energy surged forth—a blaze of fire erupted, causing the room’s temperature to spike dramatically.
"Lathel, get back!" Catherine shouted, her eyes burning with both fury and worry.
"Mother, you should leave the room," Lathel suddenly said.
Catherine was startled, urgently protesting: "Lathel, you—"
"Mother... trust ." Lathel turned, eting Catherine’s gaze with a confident, reassuring smile.
Catherine understood right away... perhaps this spear was Lathel’s fated opportunity.
Still, worry lingered in her eyes as she looked at Lathel, as if seeking one last reassurance.
"Mother..." Lathel continued, "Don’t worry. I am not the kind of person who easily accepts defeat, or allows himself to be manipulated."
Hearing that, Catherine drew a deep breath, then nodded, gathering the two maids and stepping outside.
At the door, she turned back to look at him.
The eyes of the mighty Queen—one who had conquered many kingdoms—were now wet, as if on the verge of tears.
"Lathel... be careful. Rember, your life is the most important thing."
Lathel smiled and nodded, "Mother, trust ."
"Uhm! I will always trust you." Catherine smiled through her tears, then closed the door.
Lathel gazed at the door for a mont, then turned back to the spear.
Black mist now filled the room, so cold that it felt like he was standing in an ice cellar.
"Co here..."
"Closer..."
The eerie voice echoed again, while the blood-red runes along the spearhead began to glow with a strange, sinister light.
Lathel frowned and asked the System, "How can I claim it?"
🔔 [Sorry, Master, I cannot help you. You... must rely on your own will alone.]
"Ah!" Lathel suddenly curled his lips in a sly grin. "So it all cos down to my will, huh?"
He slowly stepped toward the spear, reaching out for it.
"Yes... grasp ... beco my most loyal servant."
"Serve , offer your soul to , and I... will help you..."
"No!" Lathel suddenly barked, cutting off the eerie voice echoing inside his head.
"It seems you’ve misunderstood sothing."
His voice was unbelievably calm and indifferent.
He gripped the spear tightly, his lips twisting into a wicked smile.
The blood-red light from the spearhead cast ghastly shadows across his face, making his smile look even more demonic—like a devil out of Hell.
"I’m your master!" Lathel declared. "You are my slave. You... will serve ."
"You... You think you can control ?" The twisted voice hissed back, now contorted with fury.
"Hahahaha... hahahaha..." Lathel’s laughter rang out—icy and mad. "Why don’t you guess... if I can or not?"
Whoosh!
At that mont, the black mist erupted from the spear like a tidal wave, engulfing him completely.
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