Chapter 191 Cecilia's Sweet Sixteen (8)

Words : 1840 Updated : Sep 21st, 2025

After finishing my dance with Elara, I decided I was officially done for the night. Five dances were more than enough, and I wasn't about to push my luck with any more. Elara left with a bright smile, drifting off to join her friends, and Aria had disappeared somewhere as well—likely off causing some kind of chaos with her own group. I was just about to find the girls when I felt a familiar presence approaching. Lucifer Windward. His blonde hair was as immaculate as ever, not a single strand out of place, and his emerald eyes still carried that unshakable self-assurance. But there was something missing in them tonight, something just a little… off. "Arthur," he greeted, voice steady, calm, as if the weight of the world wasn't pressing down on his shoulders. He hesitated for a fraction of a second—something he almost never did. "Let's talk in private." I nodded, sending a brief signal to the others that I'd be fine. The girls were watching with varying degrees of concern, and I knew why. Lucifer was proud—unreasonably so. And I had beaten him. That sort of thing didn't sit well with someone like him. But in the end, Lucifer wasn't some comic book villain set on revenge. He was twisted in places, sure, shaped by his childhood into someone who always had to prove his worth, but deep down, he was a good man. And more importantly, he wasn't stupid enough to try anything reckless. He led me to a private chamber just outside the grand hall. Being a prince, of course, he had access to rooms even in the heart of the Slatemark Palace. He stepped inside first, and I followed, shutting the door behind us. "You won the bet," Lucifer admitted, his tone even, measured. No frustration, no irritation. Just a statement of fact. He reached into his spatial ring and retrieved something small, placing it in my palm. A ring. "I wanted to save you the trouble of visiting the Windward estate," he continued. "So I personally picked an artifact for you." I turned the ring in my fingers. It was simple, elegant, with faint engravings that pulsed with the quiet hum of ancient magic. "This is an Ancient-grade artifact we had in our vaults—Seraphim's Embrace. It enhances your senses." His expression remained unreadable as he added, "I hope this is good enough. If not, you're welcome to visit the Windward treasury as promised by my father." I turned the ring over once more before slipping it onto my finger, feeling the subtle shift in awareness it granted. "Thank you. This is enough," I said simply. An Ancient-grade artifact that boosted my senses? More than good enough. I wasn't about to push my luck by trying to claim the Legendary-grade sword Lucifer would eventually bond with. Lucifer studied me for a long moment, his emerald eyes unreadable. Then, with a quiet exhale, he did something completely unexpected. "Thank you for beating me, Arthur." I blinked. "What?" That wasn't exactly the reaction I'd anticipated. Resentment? Maybe. Determination? Definitely. But gratitude? That was a surprise. "I always thought this world was mine," Lucifer said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—something raw. "I believed everything would unfold as it should, as if the universe itself had already written my story. But you showed me how wrong I was. Even when everything pointed to my victory, even when I unlocked my second Gift in the middle of our fight, I still lost. Your hard work and talent beat me." His words weren't bitter. They weren't even regretful. Just honest. 'You did achieve something amazing, Arthur.' Luna's voice echoed in my mind, her tone carrying that rare note of approval. 'The one destined for greatness—the future Emperor of the World—had his hubris and fate shattered by the one who was Fateless. The one I chose.' Lucifer exhaled, running a hand through his immaculate hair as he continued. "I spent a lot of time alone after that match, thinking. Not just about why I lost, but about everything. My strength. My relationships. Especially with Rachel, who was always there, and I never really… saw her." His fingers curled slightly at his sides. "I understand now. I was wrong. About so many things. And I want to change. All because of you." He straightened, that old confidence settling back into his posture like an old, well-fitted coat. "So, thank you." I met his gaze, nodding. "You're welcome, Lucifer." The moment lingered for a beat too long, then he smirked—just a little, just enough for the familiar arrogance to peek through. "But don't get comfortable," he added. "I won't keep losing forever. I will beat you in the future. So just keep waiting for me at the top." I chuckled, slipping the Ancient-grade ring onto my finger. "I'll be waiting." "If you wish to bond with the artifact, feel free to do so," Lucifer said, giving my shoulder a pat. Then, after the briefest hesitation, he added, "And… I hope we can be friends in the future." That was as close to vulnerable as Lucifer Windward was ever going to get, and I wasn't about to ruin the moment. "Sure," I replied, and with a nod, he turned and left, leaving me alone in the room. I glanced down at the artifact in my palm—the ring, Seraphim's Embrace. It was small, unassuming, yet the air around it thrummed with power, the way an old engine hums before roaring to life. Ancient-grade artifacts didn't just sit around gathering dust in noble vaults; they carried weight, history, and in this case, an entire legend wrapped around them like a second skin. Carefully, I pricked my finger with mana, letting a single drop of blood fall onto the ring's surface. Instantly, the metal shivered in my hand. The faint, intricate runes engraved into it pulsed with light, responding to the offering as if drinking it in. And then it hit me. A surge of energy, not violent but overwhelming in its sheer intensity, rushed through me, racing down my spine and seeping into every nerve, every fiber of my being. It was like plugging directly into the heart of a star, but instead of burning, the power simply… was. It settled deep in my core, familiar and foreign all at once, an energy that was both mine and something greater. Luna's voice whispered in my mind, steady, reassuring. 'You have done well, Arthur. The Seraphim's Embrace has chosen you.' The artifact was now bonded to me. Seraphim's Embrace—legend had it that these were the eyes of a fallen angel, a being cast down from celestial heights, stripped of its divinity but not its power. Whether that was true or just the fevered ramblings of an old historian with a taste for dramatics, I had no idea. But what was true was that stories had weight. Stories were power. And this one, whispered across centuries, repeated and reinforced until it was woven into reality itself, had transformed the artifact into something far beyond just a piece of metal. Ancient-grade artifacts weren't made in a forge or crafted by mere mortal hands; they were shaped by belief. Had more people known of its tale, had its legend been sung by more tongues, it might have ascended to Legendary-grade. But that was the nature of things like this. You couldn't force a myth into existence. You couldn't cheat time and belief, not even with the most advanced time magic. Artifacts like this weren't built. They became. Now, its power was mine. I sat on the couch, flexing my fingers as I adjusted to the artifact's effects. Almost immediately, the world around me shifted. Clarity sharpened, edges became crisper, colors deepened, and something I could only describe as awareness settled over me like an extra layer of perception I'd never known I was missing. I could see the delicate shimmer of mana currents in the air, threads of power twisting in patterns too intricate for normal eyes to catch. The tiny imperfections in the wooden floor, the minute distortions in the weave of the curtains, even the soft, rhythmic pulse of distant energy signatures—all of it unfolded before me with perfect, effortless precision. I narrowed my focus towards the window, letting my enhanced sight stretch outward. The cityscape beyond was no longer just a cluster of lights and movement—it was alive, a pulsing web of energy and motion. I could see people moving through the streets below, their mana signatures glowing faintly like fireflies. The hum of technology blended seamlessly with the natural aura of the world, an intricate dance of old and new, magic and machine. 'This is incredible,' I thought, shifting my vision further. Then, an idea. A reckless one, maybe. But I wanted to test something. Searᴄh the NôᴠeFire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. I reached inside myself and activated Lucent Harmony. The power flared within me instantly, merging with the effects of Seraphim's Embrace in a way that sent a shudder through my entire being. My senses expanded again, but this time, it was more than just clarity. The world didn't just come into focus—it unfolded. It was as if I had stepped out of the constraints of normal perception and into something far greater. Details leaped out at me, impossibly sharp. I could see the individual strands in the carpet beneath my feet. The faint residue of magic left behind by Lucifer's presence. The way the air itself shifted and trembled with the unseen forces moving through it. This was more than just heightened sight. This was perception in its purest form. 'Arthur,' Luna's voice cut through my thoughts, her tone carrying a note of warning. I ignored her. I was too fascinated. Was this what Ren felt when he activated his God's Eyes? Of course, his power transcended the Seraphim's Embrace by an enormous margin, but… with Lucent Harmony added into the mix, maybe—just maybe—I was getting a glimpse of that kind of ability. But something nagged at me. This was borrowed power. A tool, not an inherent ability. And tools could be replicated. Stolen. Countered. Still, power was power. And now, I had more of it. Luna's voice came again, quieter this time. 'Arthur, be careful. The artifact is immense, but it is not limitless.' I could already feel the strain. The exhilaration came with a cost—a subtle, creeping fatigue clawing at the edges of my mind. The artifact wasn't just feeding me perception; it was demanding something in return. I took a slow breath, releasing the power slightly, allowing the world to settle back into something more manageable. "Thank you, Luna," I murmured. "I'll be careful." For now.

Chapter 191 Cecilia's Sweet Sixteen (8)

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