CHAPTER 152: HOLY PROMISE

Razeal scoffed to himself. What a total bullshit character, he thought, eyes resting on Celestia.

In all honesty, Celestial Gwon Valentine had always felt like a character the author invented just to dim the shine of Areon. She was written to be the one who stood above all others, no matter the circumstances. She only had one job in this grand narrative: to remain supreme, untouchable, the figure who would always be painted as the peak of existence.

Her ancestor’s ability Bloodline Authority hadn’t stayed still either. It had grown, twisted, and evolved across generations. The Imperial Family ensured it. Every time a new ability or unique bloodline appeared somewhere in the world, the Empire would do whatever it took to claim it. Bribery. Loyalty tests. Blackmail. Kidnapping loved ones to use as leverage. At their worst, they had even gone so far as to construct breeding chambers a grotesque attempt to force new bloodline bearers to produce descendants, ensuring the trait wouldn’t be lost to chance of death.

The faces of the rulers changed with time, as generations passed. Some were gentle, kind and just. Others, ruthless and consumed by their own cruelty. Yet one thing bound them all without exception: greed. A hunger to keep evolving their bloodline. To ensure it never stopped growing stronger, no matter the cost.

And so it remained, even now. That was the reason why the Imperial Empress stood at the absolute peak of power in the present age because within her body resided more abilities than anyone else in the world. If anyone even fraction close to her.

Celestia, the princess before him, was the culmination of that never-ending cycle. She carried within her veins more potential than any member of her family before her. Called strongest in all generation. Since the bloodline she had inherited was not stagnant it was ever-increasing, feeding on each new essence it devoured.

So she holding the more bloodlines then the first holder of this bloodline did. So the peak of this bloodline currently.

Razeal clenched his fists. Cheating people, he thought grimly.

Celestia didn’t just hold fragments of strength. She carried all four Duke Households’ royal bloodlines, the ten Pillar Houses’ bloodlines, and countless others gathered across the Empire. Every lineage of value the Empire or even outside discovered was now etched into her being. And if that wasn’t enough, when these abilities combined, they didn’t merely coexist they evolved together, amplifying and reinforcing one another until the whole was greater than the sum of its parts.

Her mana pool was the most terrifying part of all. It wasn’t simply vast it was the combined essence of every bloodline’s power, woven together into one body. In simple, crude terms, Celestia’s mana alone equaled more than the entire empire combined. She is walking empire is herself.

Razeal shook his head, not wanting to dwell on it further. The thought itself was unreasonable, maddening. She was born a powerhouse. Not forged through hardship or tempered by struggles. Just a Born to shine.

Back in the present, the arena was silent.

No one dared to directly point out what Celestia had just done, even though she herself had offered a polite apology. The silence stretched, heavy and awkward, pressing down on everyone’s shoulders.

Nova’s face was dark blue with rage, her eyes burning holes into the princess as though she wanted nothing more than to tear her apart. But Marcella, well-acquainted with Nova’s temper, acted before things could spiral. A ripple of invisible aura burst from her, suppressing Nova’s body and clamping her mouth shut with sheer force. Nova thrashed against it, muffled fury spilling out, but Marcella didn’t let go.

Celestia let out a soft cough, as if even she couldn’t bear the weight of the atmosphere anymore. Slowly, deliberately, she turned her head toward the exhausted referee.

Selphira stood there, shoulders heavy, her body leaning as though she could barely keep herself upright. The last protective shield she had cast had drained her completely. Every drop of her mana had been poured into it, and though her strong regeneration kept her conscious, she was on the brink of collapse. If her constitution had been weaker, she would already have been lying unconscious on the floor.

Yet the moment Celestia’s gaze fixed upon her, Selphira straightened in an instant, forcing herself to stand tall. Her head dipped low in deference.

"Yes, Your Highness," she said softly, her voice a whisper of formality despite her exhaustion.

Celestia’s eyes narrowed slightly. "You haven’t declared the duel results yet. Nor have you handed over the wagers. As the referee, don’t you think that’s quite the oversight?"

Selphira’s body stiffened like a bowstring pulled taut. She bowed again, voice trembling slightly. "Apologies, Your Highness. I will see to it immediately."

Without hesitation, she summoned the remnants of her mana, forcing it to obey. Her body rose from the ground, floating upward until she hovered high above the arena floor. Her presence stretched over the coliseum, so that every spectator in the stands could see her clearly.

And now, all eyes turned to her, waiting for the official judgment to be spoken.

Selphira drew a ragged breath, her body trembling from exhaustion, but her voice when it came was clear, sharp, and absolute. The amplification spell she conjured made her words echo through every corner of the colossal arena, reaching even the highest tiers of the stands.

"The duel between Razeal Virelan and Areon Dragonwevr is now formally concluded," she declared, each syllable heavy with finality. "In substitution for Areon Dragonwevr, Sylva Faerelith took his place in the contest. Though she fought valiantly and claimed victory in combat... the statutes of Honour are unyielding. When the named challenger is absent from his appointed trial, victory is conferred.. by right and by law to his opponent."

Her gray eyes swept across the crowd, lingering on the Dukes, on Celestia, and finally on the boy at the center of it all.

"Thus, by the ancient custom and in full accordance with the code of duels, Razeal is hereby proclaimed the true and rightful victor of this Duel of Honour."

And as to the wager solemnly sworn the sacred Holy Promise it now falls to the House of Dragonwevr to uphold their word. Let them, without delay or diminution, present unto Razeal that which was pledged, lest their honour stand in question before Crown and kin alike."

Her voice reverberated like a bell, authority carrying it beyond her own strength. The words of a referee in a Duel of Honour could not be undone not even by Dukes.

For a heartbeat, silence blanketed the coliseum.

Then the murmurs began.

Even though the spectators had not yet recovered from the suffocating exhaustion inflicted by Celestia’s bloodline ability, their tongues loosened instantly. Gasps and mutters spread like wildfire, whispers swelling into a tide of outrage.

"The Holy Promise... truly to be given?"

"This is blasphemy! To gamble with such a sacred oath... it is a stain upon the Church of Light itself but to truly give it??!"

The uproar grew louder, the anger of thousands feeding upon itself. The Holy Promise was not some trinket or title it was a vow bound in divine sanction, an oath older than nations, older even than the Empire itself. To see it wagered, forced into the hands of a boy everyone had cast aside? To the spectators, it was unthinkable, an insult to faith itself.

But before the clamor could rise further

"Enough."

Celestia’s voice fell like a guillotine.

Her platinum eyes narrowed, and her tone was edged with cold displeasure. The effect was instantaneous. Every voice in the coliseum died in their throats. The roaring tide of gossip shattered into stillness. Thousands of people froze, eyes wide, lungs held as if air itself had betrayed them.

Even the mighty bowed under it.

Maria, who had only moments ago been gnawing on her nails, had been the first to hiss complaints to her mother. She had barely formed her next words spitting venom about Razeal’s undeserved victory How could they do this? Why is he even winning? .. before her body locked in place again. Her limbs stiffened as though shackled by invisible chains, every muscle trembling with restrained fury. Her features darkening further as if she would draw blood with her glare alone.

That bitch... How dare she control me against my will again!

Her whole body shook with rage, her blue eyes sharpening to an icy, murderous light. She hated this sensation more than anything the suffocating humiliation of being forced into submission. It made her feel worthless. Lesser. Inferior.

I’ll kill her. One day, I’ll kill her. I’ll carve her apart just to rid myself of this feeling.

Her lips began to shape the words, her voice dripping venom

crack!

A sharp sting silenced her. Her mother’s hand had struck across her mouth from behind, quick and merciless.

"Calm down, girl. This isn’t our home," her mother said with a smile, though her narrowed eyes burned with hidden danger. Her expression was much the same as Maria’s, but her control was far stronger.

Maria didn’t resist. She let the blow stand and her mouth stay shut. But her gaze burned hotter than ever, fixed on Celestia with hatred beyond words. She loathed this control. To her, it wasn’t superiority it was chains. The so-called supremacy of Celestia’s bloodline was nothing but an insult. If Maria could, she would rip every drop of that blood from her own body, just to be free of it.

Her eyes shifted then, moving from Celestia to Razeal, who stood there with that same ever shit eating smirk on his face.

How? she wondered bitterly. How did he survive bloodline extraction?

Wasn’t it a fact carved in stone that anyone attempting to forcibly remove their own bloodline would meet instant death, no matter how strong? Yet there he stood, his face twisted into that same infuriating smirk, as though the rules that bound all others simply did not apply to him.

Celestia, meanwhile, nodded approvingly at Selphira’s declaration. "Good."

Faces across the coliseum darkened further at the mention of the Holy Promise being fulfilled, but none dared speak against it. Everyone wanted to protest, but Celestia’s authority weighed heavily on them, silencing their tongues.

And so, whether they liked it or not, the verdict stood.

The Duel of Honour was concluded.

Razeal was victor.

And the Holy Promise now fell into his hands.

Celestia ignored all the ugly expressions around her. Even of Maximus whose face grew darker upon hearing the holy promise to be granted, but no matter how much he wanted to speak, he restrained himself."

"Duchess Arabella. The Holy Promise." Celestia’s voice rang out with quiet, imperious force, her rainbow-lit gaze cutting directly toward the Dragonwevr’s Duchess. There was no room for hesitation in her tone. No question, only command.

Yes..." she said, reluctant but resigned. She couldn’t turn back now. Not when her family’s honour balanced on a knife’s edge or when the Princess herself stood openly on the side of the Virelans.

Worse, Celestia’s open siding with the Virelans was a dagger in her chest. If she refused, it would not simply be dishonour it might well spark the war she had almost welcomed moments ago. And in that war, should Celestia turn her authority upon her again, she would be left writhing helplessly like before, body pressed into the earth by a bloodline she could not resist.

No. That humiliation she would not endure twice.

Without another word, Arabella extended her hand. A golden parchment unfurled into existence, pulled from the depths of her storage ring. It glowed faintly, a warm and radiant light spilling from its ancient folds as though the page itself carried divinity. Its surface was etched with flowing runes, each letter burning with quiet reverence.

The moment the Holy Promise appeared, the atmosphere of the coliseum shifted entirely.

The crowd reacted as though lightning had struck.

All across the stands, knees hit stone. Believers of the Church of Light, regardless of rank or status, bowed in reverence. Knights, nobles, servants, commoners all dropped where they stood, eyes lowered, voices hushed to silence. It was not respect for Arabella, nor for Razeal, nor even for the duel itself. No.. the Holy Promise commanded reverence by its very existence.

To gaze upon it was to gaze upon something sacred.

Even those who did not follow the Church felt its weight. The parchment’s light stirred something primal, ancient. Half of the coliseum was kneeling, their loyalty to the Church binding them in devotion. The other half, including the Virelan assassin units, stood firm. They did not bow, for reverence to the Church was not in their creed. Yet had they not been there, it would have been nearer eighty percent of the crowd on their knees.

Even so, the sight of tens of thousands kneeling before one glowing page was enough to still the air with awe.

Yes, they despised the circumstances. Yes, they despised the one to whom it was to be given. But the Holy Promise itself? That was eternal. Untouchable. Absolute.

Arabella held it with both hands, her knuckles pale, her smile bitter. "Here, Your Highness."

Her words dripped with venom she dared not voice louder. The parchment was a treasure her family had guarded for almost a decade, waiting for the moment when they might wield it in desperation, when it could bend the world to their survival. With it, they could have commanded the loyalty of every believer under the sun, raised armies without question, forged destiny with divine authority.

But their greed had undone them. They had hoarded it, clutching at its power for a "worst-case" that had never come until now, when it was wrenched from them not as a shield, but as a forfeit. That could never been imagined

Celestia accepted the parchment without ceremony. Her platinum eyes glinted faintly as the golden glow reflected off her skin. She studied it for a heartbeat, her thumb brushing the runes, then turned.

And walked toward Razeal.

The coliseum seemed to hold its breath.

Her authoritative aura dimmed as she stopped just a step towards from him, her gaze locking into his with quiet intensity. For a moment she seemed to soften, lips curving upward into the faintest smile.

"Congratulations," she said gently, almost warmly. "You won." A pause, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "And... you have grown stronger."

Her words carried weight, but Razeal’s face betrayed nothing. He stood as he always did distant, unreadable, his eyes cold.

Celestia studied him, the smile lingering, then pressed on, her voice low enough that only those nearest could hear, yet heavy enough to echo in memory. "Here. You won this. Take it.. and declare yourself innocent before all. The world will hear it from your own lips, and you can finally be free."

Her lips curved higher into a smile. She would never say it aloud, but a part of her was relieved for him. She had always known he wasn’t guilty, But still forcing someone branded as guilty to become innocent by oneself? And that by force. Even she had to admit, that was quite an achievement especially for someone who wasn’t even strong enough.

She extended the parchment toward him.

Razeal’s hand shot out not gently, reverence or even any respect whatsoever. He snatched it from her grip, As also careful not to let her "dirty" skin touch his.

Celestia’s eyes twitched at that, but she did not protest. She merely let her hand fall, her smile fixed, though a faint crack had shown through her mask.

Razeal lowered his gaze to the glowing parchment in his hand. The Holy Promise absolute, untouchable, binding across heaven and earth. He could feel the power within it thrumming against his skin, as though daring him to speak his will aloud.

Declare himself innocent? That was never what he wanted.

He had never once said that was what he sought.

Slowly, deliberately, Razeal lifted his head. His cold smile widened, and his eyes dark, sharp, unreadable swept across the sea of faces watching him.

The silence in the coliseum thickened as his gaze met theirs.

And then, without hesitation, he opened his mouth.

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I tried a slightly different approach to my writing this time. I focused on making the explanation stable without slowing things down or dragging it out.

Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing 😂 I’m just working on improving my style and getting feedback. Thanks for the concern though.. really happy seeing all you guys nice words. Also to others I get that everyone has different expectations for the story. But it’s going to unfold the way I want it to. I might consider changes if I find something interesting and reasonable, but asking why the MC isn’t already emotionles, ruthless or villain-like isn’t really fair. Villain isn’t always supposed to be like that.

Still, I appreciate all the feedback. Thanks, everyone.

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