novelraw Chapter 63: Training with Hyperion
Chapter 63: Training with Hyperion
I found myself standing within the ancient walls of the Tower of Helios, situated directly behind the royal castle. Hundreds of meters above my head, the sacred, burning Flame roared against the sky. However, I had not come here today to directly commune with the fire or refine my control over its essence. This time, I remained squarely within the circular chamber at the base of the tower.
Unclasping Hyperion from my belt, I raised the legendary weapon briefly before slowly drawing it from its ornate scabbard. Inch by inch, the magnificent, golden-flaming blade was revealed. It was, without a doubt, the most breathtaking weapon I had ever laid eyes upon; I could tangibly feel its immense, pulsing power simply by basking in its radiant glow.
The moment the blade was entirely freed from its sheath, I immediately felt a crushing, mountainous weight bear down upon my shoulders. Thanks to my awakening, I was physically capable of holding it, but possessing the sheer strength to lift a sword and possessing the skill to properly wield it in combat were two entirely different matters. It would take considerable time before I could master its mass.
Gritting my teeth against the strain, I raised the blade high and executed a slow swing, cutting through the air. I transitioned into a series of other basic strikes, methodically testing the balance and momentum. Practice was the only path to true progress.
I may have successfully awakened my royal bloodline through the first ritual, but that had only enhanced my physical constitution, sharpened my senses, and granted me the authority to wield the flames of Helios. Relying solely on raw, unrefined power was not going to secure my survival. Just because I had beaten Morgana into the dirt did not mean I was truly overpowered.
There were more dangerous, terrifying enemies lurking out there in the world, and I would inevitably cross paths with the worst of them in Luminar especially.
Currently, my greatest weapons were my conjured flames and the sheer destructive potential of Hyperion. My fire required constant practice to master, which was fine. But even if I managed to swing Hyperion with perfect fluidity, I could only maximize its lethal potential by combining it with a perfectly suited style of swordsmanship.
Fortunately, courtesy of my knowledge from the Game, I already knew exactly which legendary sword art I needed to acquire. However, that specific pursuit would have to wait until I officially arrived in Luminar.
For the next two hours, bathed in the radiant warmth of the Flame of Helios far above, I practiced swinging the heavy blade. Perhaps it was because I was standing directly beneath the sacred fire, but I possessed an absurd, near-limitless well of stamina as I carved arc after golden arc through the empty chamber.
But eventually, the toll was exacted. I was currently drenched in a heavy sheen of sweat, my breathing ragged. My arms felt sore, a deep, burning ache radiating squarely through my shoulders and back.
"Damn it all... I just want to sleep," I muttered to myself, wincing as I rolled my numb shoulders and finally stepped out of the tower’s heavy stone archway.
I blinked in mild surprise, immediately noticing Regina kneeling patiently in the courtyard just outside the tower, her eyes fixed entirely on the entrance. She obviously could not set foot inside the sacred tower, but I was astonished that she had remained waiting out here for the entire two hours.
Neatly folded in her hands was a fresh linen towel.
"Your Majesty," she greeted softly, rising to her feet the moment I stepped into the sunlight, extending the towel toward me.
"Thank you, Regina," I smiled, accepting the linen and wiping the heavy sweat from my brow and neck. "Go and draw a hot bath for me."
She nodded, immediately hurrying ahead toward the royal quarters.
I followed slowly in her wake.
"Gods..." I muttered under my breath, feeling as though I had just sprinted a full marathon in heavy plate armor. I glanced down at Hyperion resting securely at my hip, my fingers affectionately brushing against its golden pommel. "You completely drained me today," I whispered, a tired, satisfied smile curling on my lips.
Even with the ambient aura of the Flame actively boosting my vitality, a mere two hours of wielding the blade had left me utterly spent. As a Guardian of the Flame, my physical and essence naturally amplified the closer I remained to the sacred fire. Consequently, that was precisely why I harbored a lingering unease regarding my upcoming enrollment at Luminar.
Once there, I would be entirely severed from the Flame’s territorial blessing. Of course, possessing such a monumental boost within the capital was a great advantage, but I could not allow myself to become a cripple who relied only upon it. That was exactly why I needed to attend the academy, to forge my own raw strength, master my martial skills, and become truly powerful completely independent of my ancestral blessing.
Heading back toward my private quarters, I crossed paths with Cedrik and Lyria, who were diligently scrubbing the marble floor directly in front of the corridor leading to my chambers.
Upon seeing my approach, they both immediately scrambled to their feet.
"Your Majesty!" They let out at the same time, bowing their heads respectfully.
"Good. Keep up the hard work," I praised, reaching out to lightly brush my hand over Lyria’s dark brown hair as I passed.
She stiffened instantly beneath my touch, though judging by her flushed cheeks, I did not believe her reaction stemmed from terror this time.
"Yes, Your Majesty!" Cedrik answered strongly, puffed up with pride.
Entering my quarters, I bypassed the main room and went straight into the adjoining washroom to immerse myself in a steaming, restorative bath.
After spending twenty minutes enjoying the heat and mentally organizing my plans for the coming days, I stepped out, dried off, and dressed in the fresh, comfortable garments Regina had meticulously prepared for me. Utterly exhausted, I immediately threw myself face-first onto my massive bed.
"Do you require anything else, Your Majesty?" Regina asked softly standing nearby.
"No, I am perfectly fine. Have you eaten yet? I assume you have not. Go ahead and take your lunch, Regina," I mumbled, waving a dismissive hand while keeping my face blissfully buried in the soft silk of my pillow.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. I shall return as swiftly as possible," she replied.
"Take your time. I intend to take a rather long nap," I said.
"As you wish, Your Majesty."
I listened as her light footsteps quickly receded down the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her.
"Leilah. Do not tell me you have been lurking in the shadows of my room this entire time?" I asked the seemingly empty air.
A brief silence hung in the room before her quiet voice finally emerged.
"No, Your Majesty. I remained stationed within the castle walls until you concluded your... exercises within the tower," she replied, materializing near the window.
"Well, you should rest as well. We embark on a journey of several hours tonight," I said.
"May I rest here, Your Majesty?" She asked.
I blinked, rolling over onto my side to look at her. I simply pointed toward the plush sofa near the fireplace.
"Of course," I smiled warmly. "Make yourself comfortable. Though you may also join Eleanor in her chambers if you prefer."
She offered a curt nod of gratitude before silently making her way over and laying down upon the sofa.
I exhaled deeply, collapsing onto my back and staring up at the grand canopy. It certainly felt reassuring to have someone capable standing guard over my vulnerable moments, especially with the fated day of my assassination drawing ever closer.
***
Regina walked with long, confident strides through the sprawling corridors of the castle, eventually emerging into the eastern courtyard and heading straight toward the servants’ quarters. A wide, radiant smile played upon her lips, one that bordered precariously close to a haughty smirk.
A few passing servants shot her bitter, envious glares, but she could not possibly have cared less. She had never cared for their petty judgments before, and she cared even less now that she had successfully elevated herself to the highly coveted position of King Lumiel’s only personal maid.
She entered the grand, bustling building reserved for the female staff and made a beeline straight for the communal kitchens.
It was already late in the afternoon, meaning the cooks had long since finished preparing the midday meal, and the majority of the staff had already eaten. She could only pray that something substantial remained.
Catching the eye of a passing kitchen servant, a middle-aged commoner, certainly not one of the esteemed royal chefs, Regina called out.
"Is there any food remaining from the midday service?" She asked.
The older woman frowned, gesturing vaguely toward a long wooden table lined with several large, open iron pots, each with a serving ladle resting inside.
Regina hurried over and eagerly peered into the first container. It was entirely empty, scraped completely clean save for a few meager drops of broth.
As expected...
She quickly moved down the line, inspecting the remaining dozen pots. Thankfully, the harvest was not entirely barren. She managed to scrape together a decent portion of stir-fried wheat and hearty beans. To her delight, she even uncovered a few small, leftover pieces of roasted chicken hiding at the bottom of one pot.
Chicken was considered as a luxury dish for the staff, one they were only granted on rare, celebratory occasions.
While a small part of Regina felt mildly dejected that she had missed the lavish spread when the pots were full, she decided it was a more than worthy sacrifice. She had spent the last two hours transfixed, breathlessly watching Lumiel swing his magnificent, golden-flaming sword beneath the sun. That breathtaking sight alone had been more than enough to sustain her.
Even though he was merely eighteen years of age, he truly embodied the awe-inspiring presence of a King when he wielded that golden blade.
Taking a chipped wooden plate, Regina meticulously began scraping every last edible morsel she could salvage from the iron pots, her mind drifting blissfully back to the sunlit royal courtyard.
It was truly astonishing how the Awakening of the Flame had completely transformed Lumiel. When she had first laid eyes upon him months ago, he certainly looked the part of a prince wrapped in fine silks, yet he had entirely lacked the presence, character, and will expected of a ruler. He had been a broken, pitiful boy. Now, however, that frailty was completely gone, replaced by a man so assertive that was it was actually terrifying...
Once her plate was sufficiently piled with the meager leftovers, she hurried toward the main servant’s canteen. Usually, the dining hall would be suffocatingly crowded and deafeningly loud, but because she was so late, it was blissfully sparse. Much to her delight, this quiet isolation suited her perfectly as it would spare her the exhausting chore of ignoring the crude remarks constantly whispered by the intensely jealous servants.
Finding an empty bench near the back, she took a seat and immediately began to eagerly dig into her meal.
As she chewed, a familiar pang of sorrow twisted her heart. She often deeply regretted that she could not safely smuggle these rich palace meals back to her ailing mother. By the time her evening shifts finally concluded, the kitchens were always scrubbed entirely clean. If she were ever caught attempting to sneak leftover provisions past the castle gates, the head stewards would definitely use the theft as a convenient excuse to permanently strip her of her position.
That fear of losing her royal wages kept her mostly honest, though she did occasionally manage to slip a few stray fruits into her apron pockets when no one was watching.
Using her simple wooden spoon, Regina scooped up a mouthful of the congealed stew.
"Cold..." She muttered with a resigned sigh, though she continued to eat with haste. Cold palace food was still superior to whatever she was cooking with the poor low items she was buying cheaply in the market.
"Eating well, are we, Regina?"
Startled, Regina suddenly raised her gaze. Standing over her table were three older servants, each wearing identical, sickly-sweet smiles that completely failed to mask the malicious intent burning in their eyes.
Her expression immediately soured.
’Great. Just what I needed.’