The King motioned toward the back of the hall, and a group of servants unveiled the weapon. The body armor stood before Rael—its dark tallic body glinting under the hall’s lights.
"The Armor of Hephaestus is an earth-grade treasure forged by Hephaestus himself a long ti ago for a human. It went through so many people and eventually ended up in the hands of my predecessors. This armor could adjust in size and form to suit the wielder’s needs," Arthur said proudly. "I hope it would be for your liking, Azrael."
The entire hall was in stunned silence as they never expected the King would grant him an earth-grade weapon, and that too, a treasure of the royal family instead of materialistic wealth like gold or land.
Duke Aurelius blinked, his face showing the kind of shock one rarely saw from the composed and calculated man. Even he understood what this ant. Such a protective treasure, an Earth-grade divine armor, was worth several cities. To bestow such a gift upon an eight-year-old was an extraordinary, almost reckless act. It would make Rael virtually invincible. A demigod’s might would be required to destroy such an armor.
Before Rael could take a mont to process the situation, the voice of the Revenue Minister cut through the silence.
"This is madness! How can we bestow such a treasure upon a child, Your Majesty? It is beyond reason!" The minister’s voice echoed across the hall, a mix of outrage and disbelief. "This is a treasure of Calot! Giving it to soone who has only just won a re rookie tournant? Your Majesty, I beg you to reconsider your decision."
Arthur’s expression darkened as he turned toward the Revenue Minister.
"Enough," King Arthur’s voice was commanding, and the room fell silent at once. "I have made my decision."
The King then continued, his tone changing to one of quiet authority.
"There is sothing else I must announce," Arthur said, letting the silence linger. All eyes were now on him, their curiosity piqued.
"The decision to betroth my niece to Azrael Garcia." The words hit like a thunderclap in the hall. Even Rael himself was montarily stunned, unsure if he had heard correctly. He glanced at his father, who had a thoughtful expression on his face. Aurelius’ mind still hadn’t co out from that divine armor yet.
Arthur continued, "After an extensive discussion, we ca to this arrangent. When Azrael turns twelve, he will be formally engaged to my niece. They will marry after both have graduated from the Academy. The engagent has been decided in agreent with Duke Aurelius."
A hush swept through the hall as the announcent sank in. Rael, still absorbing the shock of the situation, felt as though the ground had shifted beneath him. He wasn’t expecting this at all.
The court ministers exchanged nervous glances, so shifting uncomfortably in their seats while others murmured in disbelief.
Rael looked up at his father, whose face had taken on a mask of neutrality. Duke Aurelius’s silence just indicated that he indeed made such an arrangent behind his back.
Arthur turned his attention back to Rael with a small, knowing smile. "The future of Calot is shaped by those who can rise above expectations, Azrael. I believe you have already shown that you are more than capable of doing so."
Rael could hardly comprehend the weight of the King’s words. To be betrothed to the King’s niece? The implications were far-reaching, and it seed as though his life was beginning to take unexpected turns. What had started as a simple victory in a tournant had now placed him at the heart of Calot’s politics. He couldn’t speak anything.
The ministers, despite their initial shock, quickly fell in line with the announcent.
"A wise decision, Your Majesty." "Congratulations, Your Majesty." "Congratulations, Duke Aurelius."
The ministers started congratulating the King and the Duke.
They saw the betrothal as a strategic move—one that would remove Morgana’s daughter, Artaigne, from the equation entirely.
While the proposal had initially seed like an unnecessary extension of power, it was now viewed as an effective way to keep the Duke’s influence in check without granting him any more territory or sway. Besides, the so-called divine treasure of Calot had long been considered a relic—a weapon of legend that few believed could ever be wielded. Legends claid that it was so heavy that only a demigod could hope to carry it, but such tales had been dismissed as fantasy. Few even rembered the weapon’s true origins—except for King Arthur, who knew more than he let on.
Arthur had tried countless tis over the years to make the Armor his own. He had failed every ti. The Armor, like Excalibur, was also considered an artificial Arcana spirit, but unlike Excalibur, no one had ever been able to claim its acknowledgnt.
The King had sought its recognition in vain, failing at each attempt. It wasn’t until Excalibur, with the Reaper’s guidance, suggested that Rael might be the one capable of wielding it that Arthur had been swayed to bestow it upon the boy.
Though Excalibur itself wasn’t fully confident in Rael’s ability to handle such power, it had made a deal to honor its agreent with the Reaper. Arthur, who trusted Excalibur’s judgnt, had taken a risk in giving the Armor to the child.
Later that day, as Rael and his father walked through the grand halls of the castle, heading back to their quarters, the weight of the events seed to settle in.
"Son," Duke Aurelius began, his voice steady but layered with aning. "You know the betrothal to Princess Artaigne was not a political move aid at you or your sister. It’s for your sake. Arthur had originally wanted his son, Loholt, to marry Eon. But, after learning how close you and Eon are, he decided to put forth this marriage proposal to you first. It would keep both of you in Calot’s influence while allowing you to stay together, whether it is in Royal Castle or the Garcia Manor. I know you don’t want that life, but this is what we think is best for everyone."
Rael didn’t respond imdiately. He could feel the weight of the Duke’s words, but it didn’t change anything. His mind was focused on sothing else entirely—his future. He wouldn’t let anyone, even the King, decide his path.
"I don’t like Loholt," Rael said finally, breaking the silence. "His attitude is insufferable, and he seems to think that because he’s the crown prince, he has a right to treat people like dirt. I can’t respect soone like that, and neither would I ever allow Eon to marry him."
The Duke chuckled dryly, his eyes narrowing as he considered the words. "Loholt is the future King of Calot, and despite his shortcomings, you’ll have to answer to him one day."
Rael didn’t hesitate. "Raphael is the next Duke, not ."
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