novelraw Chapter 269 : Even Without the Holy Sword, I Am Still This Nation’s King, Still His Fiancée
Chapter 269 : Even Without the Holy Sword, I Am Still This Nation’s King, Still His Fiancée
Chapter 269: Even Without the Holy Sword, I Am Still This Nation’s King, Still His Fiancée
From the throne hall at the very top of the imperial palace, to the central plaza of the Inner Districts where the citizens of the Imperial Capital were waiting in anticipation for Shiltina’s formal proclamation of succession… between them stretched a long corridor that pierced through the entire palace complex.
“Congratulations, Shiltina.”
“It was not only your father who looked forward to your coronation…”
“This day—whether for our royal family, or for the entire Granwell Empire—has already been awaited for a full millennium.”
The aged old man led Shiltina forward, speaking with heartfelt sincerity.
His words carried an indescribable comfort.
The throne of the Empire always had its successor in each generation, passed down through countless reigns.
But for one to be recognized by the Holy Sword itself, to wholly liberate its seal—throughout the nearly thousand years of Granwell’s royal succession, aside from the founding emperor, only Shiltina had achieved it.
This was a feat unique in a thousand years.
When two years ago, above the Imperial Capital, Shiltina had unleashed the radiance of the Holy Sword… all citizens who understood the significance of the Holy Sword had already begun to look forward to her ascension.
In the eyes of the people, as the Holy Sword Wielder reappearing after a millennium, Shiltina would surely, like the founding emperor who wielded the Holy Sword to expand the realm, lead the Granwell Empire to rise again.
And now, that anticipation was finally about to become reality.
However, hearing Tuck’s sincere praise, Shiltina only gave a faint smile.
“The identity of the Empress is not merely glory and power, but an unbearably heavy responsibility.”
“I hope that from this day forward, I will not disappoint everyone.”
“Your Majesty need not belittle yourself. Since you have already been acknowledged by the Holy Sword…”
Tuck respectfully replied, “Then by relying on the power of the Holy Sword, you will surely be able to deter those petty villains of the Western Continent.”
The two ceased conversing, walking in silence down the corridor of the palace complex.
The world around them became utterly silent, with only the afterglow of sunset piercing the clouds and draping the silent palace in evening hues.
Until a certain instant, Shiltina’s footsteps suddenly halted.
“The distance from the throne hall to the Inner Districts’ plaza is roughly two thousand meters.”
“With the pace of my stride, ordinarily, fifteen minutes would suffice to walk through this corridor.”
“Yet we have already walked for twenty minutes, and still have not seen its end.”
Her voice echoed through the silent palace complex.
“If my guess is correct…”
“Tuck, you must have used some high-tier Holy Relic, silently bringing us into another subsidiary plane or sub-dimension, have you not?”
She gazed at the silent palace around them, veiled in sunset glow: “Though the scenery appears identical to the palace of the real world… in truth, this is already another dimension, another world. Whatever happens here will not interfere with the present world, and likewise, the people of the present will know nothing of what transpires in this sub-dimension.”
Shiltina calmly raised her head to look at the elderly man not far away.
He was both the guardian of the imperial family and her childhood sword instructor.
Back when Shiltina’s mother still lived, before her father inherited the throne, when their family lived harmoniously in Autumnleaf Domain… she had already known this old man.
She had always held him in utmost respect… one of the few elders in the imperial household she felt close to, apart from her father, stepmother Carol, and younger sister Ophelia.
But at this moment, gazing at the teacher of her youth, Shiltina only felt him to be unbearably unfamiliar.
“Although your name was indeed included in the list of suspects Ophelia provided me earlier…”
“Still, please allow me to ask one more time…”
“Tuck, why are you doing this?”
…
“It was bestowed by the Gravekeepers… a Holy Relic of the Age of Gods that can silently erode reality, exiling its target into a sub-dimension without a sound.”
“And yet, you discovered it so quickly?”
“Shiltina, it seems your intuition is sharper than I imagined.”
In the palace shrouded in twilight’s silence, the white-haired Tuck spoke slowly.
“As for the reason…”
He looked down at Shiltina, shaking his head slightly. “Naturally, it is for longevity, for eternity… to engrave my soul upon the Eternal Night Stele of the Gravekeepers, to achieve everlasting immortality.”
“Shiltina, you are still too young, too immature, too naïve…”
“Your insight is too shallow, thus you treat the ideals of a dead man, and your love with that Shoreguard… as the entirety of your life.”
“But before merciless time, before eternity—these are nothing more than meaningless, illusory dreams.”
“When ten thousand years pass, when this epoch ends and the next begins… your love, the Forester’s ideals—none will remember those things buried in the dust of history.”
“But by then, the Gravekeepers will still stride upon the River of History, gazing down upon the mortal world.”
Listening to the old man’s words, Shiltina slowly closed her eyes.
“Tuck, you chose to abandon your past life, betraying the centuries you spent as guardian of the Empire…”
“So it was only for this reason?”
“What do you mean by ‘only for this reason’!”
The white-haired old man suddenly grew furious: “Shiltina, how could you possibly understand my feelings?”
“You are the true Heaven’s Chosen, fate’s beloved. So easily, you were favored by the Holy Sword.”
“For you, with the dual blessings of the Sovereign Domain of the Holy Sword’s Second Sequence and the imperial throne—whether Legendary or Angelic, they are barriers you can easily cross with time.”
“You can so effortlessly become an Angel, a being who reigns above time itself, with no obstacles in your way.”
“But I am different.”
His tone sank, darker: “I am not like you, not like that Shoreguard Rast, born already cradled in fate’s favor.”
“You possess a nightblade as mighty as the ‘Infinite Blade,’ and were chosen by the Holy Sword, born a candidate for the throne.”
“And that Shoreguard Rast, moreover, wields the ‘Fool’s Library,’ inheriting from that Fool of the Age of Gods… perhaps one who surpassed the rank of Angels, surpassing even the gods themselves.”
“But I never possessed these golden cheats that for you are as natural as eating and drinking.”
“What you achieve with ease—Legendary status—for me demanded my lifetime of pursuit.”
“That boundary called Angel—for me, even after centuries, is an unbridgeable chasm.”
He gazed down at her: “I have already lived more than five hundred years… my Legendary lifespan nearly at its end.”
“My desire for longevity is the only obsession of my five centuries of life.”
“The Angels of the Gravekeepers promised me: if I assist them, then after success, I may become one of them, inscribe my mark upon the Eternal Night Stele, and return even from death, out of the River of History.”
“I do not know if that ancient and secret order will keep its word.”
“But now… Your Majesty, I have no choice left.”
As if to answer Tuck’s words—
The twilight sky above suddenly split open with a massive rift.
From within, a towering, radiant figure emerged.
That was the overwhelming form of a true Mythic Being. To manifest such a complete mythic form, only a true Angel could.
Even within the Gravekeepers, passed down since the Age of Gods, true Angels were rare—at most four or five in total.
Yet now, a true Gravekeeper Angel had descended—
For none other than Shiltina, who had only surpassed Legendary two years prior.
Nor was that all.
Behind that Angelic figure, from the rift in the twilight sky, two more vast figures emerged.
Compared to the first, their auras were slightly weaker, yet they still bore the imposing presence of beings like those of the Age of Gods.
Like the one Rast had slain two years ago, both had touched the boundary of Angels. Though their souls were bound to the Eternal Night Stele, preventing them from taking the final step into Angelhood… in terms of battle strength, they were already equal to Angels.
One Angel. Two Quasi-Angels.
Such was the trap that the ancient order had laid for Shiltina, Holy Sword Wielder of the Stars.
First, by using a supreme Holy Relic, they shifted the battlefield from the real world into a wholly separate sub-dimension, cutting off all outside interference.
Then, with absolute force, they would crush her completely.
This was a deathtrap with no chance of survival.
Not to mention Shiltina had not yet ascended as an Angel, being only an ordinary Legendary… even had she already ascended, against such an array she would still face only death.
“Shiltina, I watched you grow up step by step—”
“I know of your journey, from entering the extraordinary path to standing as a Legend… all of it tempered by battles at the edge of life and death.”
“I also know, many times you broke through in desperate straits, turning defeat into victory.”
“We understand the Holy Sword’s might well—that weapon forged by the planet itself allows a Legendary to rival Angels.”
“The Gravekeepers even speculated that Rast’s shot two years ago, when he killed a Quasi-Angel, was done by using the ‘Fool’s Library’ to copy your nightblade ‘Infinite Blade · Fantasia Collapse.’”
“Therefore, even though three Angel-tier beings have been deployed… to ensure victory, I still made further preparations.”
“Shiltina, by now you must have realized it.”
Tuck’s figure slowly rose into the air, standing alongside the three Gravekeeper Angels, overlooking the palace below.
“This place is a wholly separate dimension, cut off entirely from the present world.”
“That means, even as master of the Holy Sword, you cannot summon it here.”
“Likewise, the Second Sequence Sovereign Domain you gained from the Holy Sword, and the Sovereign blessing you enjoy in the Imperial Capital as Empress—are all nullified here.”
“Nor is that all…”
“In this realm severed from the Nightworld, existing outside the River of History, you also lose your identity as a Night Traveler—your nightblade can no longer be used.”
His words carried a chilling edge: “Even for one as strong as you, Shiltina.”
“Without the Holy Sword’s protection, without that forbidden nightblade ‘Infinite Blade’… you now have no chance of victory.”
Tuck gazed down at her expression, trying to glimpse even a flicker of fear upon her face.
The battle between a Legendary and Angels—any slight advantage was invaluable, potentially determining the final outcome.
If one could break the opponent’s psychological defenses with words before combat erupted, that would naturally be all the better.
However, in the end, Tuck gained nothing.
From the face of that young girl with chestnut-brown hair cascading down, he could not detect even the faintest trace of panic.
Even though she had lost the protection of the Holy Sword, lost her strongest weapon—the nightblade “Infinite Blade” upon which she had always relied to defeat formidable foes—Shiltina’s expression remained calm, unshaken.
“So, my mother’s death back then… the sudden Twilight Calamity that erupted in Autumnleaf Domain twenty years ago—was that also related to you, Teacher?”
Shiltina’s tranquil voice echoed in the air.
“That’s right.”
Tuck nodded.
“Twenty years ago, during that Coronation Ritual your father participated in, the secret forces colluding with the Gravekeepers wanted their puppet candidate to ascend, to turn the Granwell Empire into a puppet nation under their control.”
“And so, they contacted me, using the backdoor of the Gravekeepers’ Eternal Night Stele, rooted in the Nightworld… allowing me to deliberately trigger a Twilight Calamity in Autumnleaf Domain.”
“At first, I never intended to kill your mother outright… I only meant for the Twilight Calamity in Autumnleaf Domain to entangle your father, leaving him no time to manage the border war.”
“In that way, your father Allen would surely lose the throne race, and the puppet prince chosen by the hidden forces would inherit the crown.”
“Yet I never expected that Allen would be even more cold-blooded than I imagined.”
A flash of chill passed through Tuck’s eyes: “He actually chose to watch his wife die before his eyes, while rushing alone to the front lines—just to win the throne and inherit the crown smoothly.”
“With such ruthless indifference, he actually won the throne, and the Gravekeepers’ plan to install their puppet collapsed in failure.”
“In that sense, your father truly was a perfect emperor. For twenty years he bore the Empire’s burden alone, keeping it moving forward. During those twenty years, neither the Cult Group nor the Gravekeepers could truly affect the Empire’s core decisions.”
“Unfortunately, in the end, he lost to his feelings for his late wife… reigning for only twenty short years before hastily abdicating, entrusting the Empire to you—a naïve idealist filled with childish thoughts.”
“Shiltina, if you had inherited your father’s ruthless and merciless hand, maneuvering through the continent with alliances and stratagems, perhaps the Empire could indeed have remained strong.”
“But instead, for the sake of your love with that Shoreguard Rast, you openly declared enmity with the Gravekeepers.”
“And in doing so, you dragged the entire nation into the abyss of ruin…”
“And you, too, will follow in your mother’s footsteps, sacrificing yourself for that so-called Forester’s childish ideal.”
Tuck scrutinized Shiltina’s light brown eyes: “Shiltina, you don’t seem surprised?”
“There’s nothing surprising.”
Shiltina spoke softly.
“These are all things I had long suspected. I only hadn’t wanted to believe, and wanted to confirm one more time.”
She lifted her head slightly, gazing at the vast mythic figures blotting out the twilight sky: “Teacher Tuck.”
“Do you truly believe, with my father’s methods… that he failed to notice your traces over these twenty years?”
Tuck faltered slightly.
“I believe my father long ago saw through your clues, knew that you were complicit in my mother’s death, but he never revealed it.”
“After all, for a nation, keeping an exposed traitor close, feigning ignorance while using him to transmit false intelligence to the enemy—such value far outweighed simply eliminating him.”
Shiltina smiled faintly: “You were right, my father can indeed be called cold-blooded in that regard.”
“As a monarch, he always placed the Empire’s interests above his personal feelings.”
“No matter how he longed for my mother, no matter how much he wished to strike you down, he still acted as if nothing was wrong in front of you—for the greater good.”
“But I am not my father.”
Shiltina shook her head lightly.
“My father could sacrifice the small self for the greater whole, watching his wife die, watching his wife’s killer dance before him for twenty years. But I cannot do that, nor do I wish to.”
“I am a woman of great greed.”
“The greater and the lesser… love, kinship, duty—I want them all.”
“So—”
She gazed up at the magnificent figures in the distant sky.
“Whether it’s the Angels of the Gravekeepers, or the gods upon the Threshold of Seraphim…”
“If you truly think you can take my life, then come and try.”
…
Boom—
The Gravekeepers’ attack descended in an instant.
A pillar of light that engulfed heaven and earth, obliterating everything.
When the radiance of the Mythic Beings dissipated, the once-serene palace had become a shattered ruin.
And there stood Shiltina in the wreckage, her carefully woven princess braid scattered by the storm, chestnut hair streaming in the raging winds.
Her entire body was bathed in blood, her delicate face marred by countless wounds, her aura rapidly weakening.
This was only natural—for at this moment, Shiltina had yet to ascend as an Angel, and was only a Legendary.
Without the protection and blessing of the Holy Sword, facing the attacks of several Angels, it was already a miracle that she merely suffered grievous wounds rather than instant death.
Yet she still stood tall, her light brown eyes clear and bright, unstained by dust.
“Shiltina, the scabbard of the Holy Sword… it is no longer within you, is it?”
“You gave it up to heal your father… from the backlash of the Holy Sword?”
“Truly childish, indecisive—so fitting for your Forester family’s style.”
“Just like your mother twenty years ago, rushing into the blaze like a moth to flame, throwing away her life for nothing. Blind, foolish, no different than an idiot.”
Tuck gazed upon the blood-soaked girl below and suddenly laughed.
He had been concerned about the Holy Sword’s scabbard—Avalon—still within Shiltina.
As a member of the royal family, Tuck knew its wonders… so long as she was not struck down instantly, Avalon could heal even the gravest wounds, mending flesh and scars.
With such endless recovery, drawn-out battle could create unforeseen turns.
But now, Shiltina had actually abandoned the scabbard, forsaking Avalon’s protection—the “undying nature” that could endlessly restore her.
“Without the Holy Sword, without Sovereign Domain’s blessing, without your nightblade… now having cast away the scabbard as well, how could you possibly still have a chance of victory?”
“Of course… I would throw away such a thing.”
Though wounded and trapped, Shiltina still smiled:
“If I relied on the Holy Sword, on my Empress Sovereign Domain, to break through into Angelhood…”
“Then even as an Angel, I would only be the weakest among them—a defective, dependent on external crutches.”
“Such reliance would never allow me to become the ideal king I seek: one who needs to abandon nothing, one who can have it all.”
“Nor would I have the qualification to stand beside him.”
She raised her blood-stained hand, resting it upon her crimson knight’s cuirass.
“Even without the Holy Sword’s shelter, without the scabbard’s immortality, without the Sovereign Domain’s second sequence.”
“I am still this nation’s Empress, still the Forester who dedicates her life to mission and ideals, still Rast’s fiancée.”
“None of this—you can ever take away.”
…
“Outstanding.”
After a brief silence, a thunderous voice resounded from above.
Not from Tuck, but from the leading Gravekeeper Angel in the heavens.
Perhaps originally unwilling to exchange words with one already doomed, this Angel had only struck silently, never speaking.
But now, it could not help but voice its admiration.
“Indeed, in every era, there arises one peerless figure, leading civilization forward.”
“Unfortunately, your ties with the Shoreguard run too deep. We cannot invite you to our ranks.”
“And just now, the fiancé you mentioned—he must be the last Shoreguard, Rast, now lying in the hospital, half-living, half-dead, like a vegetable.”
The Angel lowered its lofty gaze toward Shiltina: “This sub-dimension is not the entirety of our deployment.”
“At this very moment, companions of ours have also descended within the Imperial Capital.”
“Their mission is to kill that last Shoreguard who slumbers in the hospital.”
“Though the Fool’s Library is shattered, even its fragments within his body hold great use for us.”
Coldly, the Angel continued: “By now, the Shoreguard named Rast should already be slain by my companions, his corpse stripped of the Fool’s Library fragments.”
The icy words fell like blades, meant to shatter Shiltina’s final will by delivering the death of her beloved fiancé, plunging her into despair.
Yet, faced with this assault, Shiltina only smiled again.
“If he truly is dead, then I will slaughter you all to accompany him in the grave.”
“And when one day I surpass even Angels, ascending to a higher realm—when I can traverse time and reverse causality at will—I will resurrect him from the River of History.”
“Besides—”
“I have never believed him to be someone you could toy with so easily.”
“Instead of worrying about Rast’s safety, perhaps you should worry whether your companions are still alive.”
“As for what I must do now…”
She gently closed her eyes: “It is to greet his return with a victory.”
Murmuring softly, her words vanished into the evening wind.
At last, Shiltina fell silent.
Her emotions surged, but her gaze cleared.
This was her swordswoman’s heartstream state.
She laid her hand upon the hilt at her waist.
The next moment, the blade was drawn.
From the twilight sky radiated a pale-blue glow like flowing water.
Not the Holy Sword—for its connection was severed, slumbering still in the real world.
What she now grasped was the rapier named “Sword of the Night Sky.”
Not a famed Holy Relic of the ages, but a simple Crest Equipment.
It had been the final gift left to her by her dearest friend Flan, before perishing amidst the mists of Frozenwater Town.
Even after the Holy Sword chose her, even after becoming the envied Holy Sword Wielder, Shiltina had never cast aside this Sword of the Night Sky.
“Crest Equipment?”
“In a battle between Angels and a Legendary, such a weapon of lower transcendentals—what use could it have…”
Tuck froze briefly, voicing his doubt.
But his words stopped in his throat.
For he then saw upon Shiltina a rising flame—pale-silver light as though burning her very blood.
Her body battered and torn, yet her eyes shone brighter, like radiant morning stars.
In response, at the tip of her rapier, darkness gathered, cloaking the twilight heavens.
“This is… the Infinite Blade · Fantasia Collapse?”
From afar, that once-aloof voice finally wavered.
At this moment, the aura surging within Shiltina was identical to that when Rast, still only Sixth Tier, slew a Quasi-Angel two years ago.
“How is this possible?”
“This sub-dimension severed all connection to the Nightworld. You should not be able to use any nightblades!”
For the first time, terror entered its tone.
“The so-called nightblade is but the manifestation of each Night Traveler’s inner landscape.”
“It is not a gift from any person or thing, but the power from deep within one’s own spirit. The Nightworld merely hastens this process.”
“So, even if Rast’s nightblade shatters, one day he will rebuild within himself that tower named the Fool’s Library.”
“And for me, even cut off from the Nightworld, my heart is still a blade forged and tempered a million times—an Infinite Blade. This is my own power, one none can take away.”
“It is not that nightblades make one strong, but that a strong heart births a nightblade.”
“Wasn’t it you, Teacher Tuck, who once told me this truth? How have you forgotten it before I?”
Her words dissolved into the evening breeze.
Then softly, she uttered an ancient syllable:
“‘Night Sky.’”
And in the next instant—
A night deeper than eternal darkness burst forth, studded with radiant stars, pouring from Shiltina’s rapier—
And swallowed the world, the three Gravekeeper Angels, and Tuck altogether.