CHAPTER 157: THE GLIMPSE ABOUT THE OATHBLADE!

Elysia, however, barely noticed the noise and the movement around her. She walked with her head slightly lowered, her eyes distant, lost in a storm of thoughts.

The clamor of voices, the clattering of wheels on stone, the cries of hawkers—it all faded into a blur.

Inside her heart, a single thought burned brighter than everything else.

(I have to become stronger...) she told herself firmly.

(Not just to face Kael, but also to avenge the Celestial Royal. I cannot allow myself to be weak any longer. If strength is the only thing this world respects, then I will seize it. Even if it means walking a path of blood, I will not hesitate.)

Her fists tightened at her sides. She could still see the flames of the arena in her memory, the faces of those who forced her family’s fate upon her, the humiliation her father endured.

That fire had not gone out—it had only moved inside her, burning her spirit.

Edwin, walking beside her, noticed her silence but did not speak either.

His own anger was heavy, his mind clouded with thoughts of revenge. The air between them was thick with unspoken vows.

At one of the terminals, a merchant accidentally bumped into Elysia, spilling a small crate of fruit.

"Ah! Forgive me, young lady!" the man stammered, kneeling to gather them.

Elysia blinked, her trance broken for a moment. She bent down, helping him pick up the scattered fruit.

"It’s fine," she said softly, forcing a small smile.

But as soon as they walked on, her face returned to that same determined expression.

(No matter what it takes...) she whispered in her heart. (I will not only endure—I will rise. And when the time comes, I will strike back.)

The journey home lasted only two days, but to Elysia it felt endless.

(I cannot forgive him), she thought again and again. (Not now, not ever. To offer us as pawns, to throw us into danger for the sake of honor... was his pride worth more than our lives?)

Her heart burned with anger, and that anger made her chest ache as if a heavy stone pressed down on it.

Each time her father glanced at her with those cold, unyielding eyes, she turned her head away.

She did not want to meet his gaze. She did not want to acknowledge him. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed on the passing landscapes—the winding rivers, the rolling fields, the villages that blurred by—pretending that he was nothing more than empty air.

Even Edwin, who once saw their father as a guiding star, had grown silent. He did not ask questions, nor did he try to speak.

Normally, the sight of home would have filled Elysia’s heart with warmth and relief, but now she felt nothing but a hollow ache.

"Home," she whispered under her breath, though the word no longer felt the same.

As soon as they stopped, Elysia dismounted her horse without looking at her father.

She did not wait for him, nor did she acknowledge his presence. She brushed past him as if he were a stranger on the road, her steps quick, her chest heavy with restrained emotion.

The moment she entered the dining room, she was greeted by the warm and worried embrace of her mother. Elysia’s strength nearly gave way at that touch.

Her mother’s arms, gentle yet firm, reminded her of what she truly fought for.

She buried her face against her mother’s shoulder, her heart aching with a pain that only she could understand.

"Mother..." she whispered.

Her mother held her close, stroking her hair. "Yes my child, are you hungry?."

"Yes, I want to eat something made from your hand", she replied.

Elysia knew that deep inside. She had no time to waste—not anymore.

The world was cruel, and she had to grow stronger if she wanted to protect what remained of her family.

Her father walked in when they were talking with each other.

She did not greet him. She did not speak to him. She walked past him as though he were invisible, as if the bond of blood between them no longer existed.

From that moment on, Elysia spoke only with her mother. Her father’s presence became nothing but a shadow to her—a shadow that she chose to ignore.

Elysia had already made up her mind. (I cannot waste time. If I do nothing, Kael will destroy me. And if I remain weak, I cannot avenge the humiliation of our house with the celestial royal. Father, just wait for me to become strong)

At night, Elysia could not sleep. She sat at the edge of her bed, her thoughts restless, her chest tight as though something inside her was pressing to be released.

The faint night breeze slipped through the window, carrying the scent of blooming night lilies from the garden.

She stood, her bare feet brushing against the cool floor as she moved closer to the tall window.

Her reflection shimmered faintly on the glass, the outline of her tired yet determined eyes staring back at her.

Her sword leaned quietly against the wall beside her desk, its presence familiar yet unsatisfying.

She touched its hilt lightly but pulled her hand back almost immediately. No matter how much she trained, no matter how sharp her strikes grew, she knew in her heart that this sword was not the one she truly sought.

It was like a placeholder—useful, but not enough.

Her hands itched, almost trembling with restlessness. Not from weakness, but from a burning desire.

Something greater existed, something tied to her.

She had heard the whispers since childhood, though always in hushed tones, never spoken openly. The servants spoke of it when they thought no one listened.

A sealed sword, locked away deep within the forbidden grounds around her home itself. A relic said to be older than kingdoms, passed down from ancestor to ancestor, yet never wielded lightly.

They called it the Oathblade.

Legends said it carried the will of their forefathers, a weapon that did not simply obey—it chose.