Zerath unsheathed his sword, displaying its magnificence as he held it before the floating divine orb. A soft gleam enveloped the sharp edge of the sword, faintly humming with a mysterious energy.
But Vivia was suddenly forced to take a step back when the golden shine morphed into a menacing crimson. The blade reverberated in the air, its tip pointing towards the chapel as if seized by a bloodthirsty urge. An impending rumbling gripped the Sanctum.
"What's going on? I-It looks like it wants to pierce through the orb."
Zerath had tightly wrapped his fingers around the sword's hilt, trying to force it down with all his strength. His breaths burst out in short, uneven gaps, small drops of sweat turning his forehead moist. His chest burned with a searing pain as if his ribcage would shatter. Pulling the sword back when it exhibited such violent force made him feel like arms would tear off from his shoulders.
What's wrong with you…? Why do you feel so angry? Did I offend you somehow?
Zerath stared at the pulsating crimson aura that coated his sword with a frightening energy. With every breath he inhaled, fatigue grew deeper and deeper, crushing his body from within. His jaw clenched and his vision began to blur.
I cannot hold on for longer. Please tell me…What can I do to make you calm again?
It was when Zerath was struggling to hold his thoughts and strength together that Vivia jumped in between his sword and the pillar that held the orb. She stretched both her arms sideways, becoming the human shield to block the sword from going any further.
"Step aside!" Zerath's eyes widened. "I don't know if it'll hurt you!"
She was determined to stay where she was. "I won't step aside."
Her emerald eyes locked onto the blade, matching its unyielding spirit. Even at a distance where the blade could easily pierce through her chest, she stood still and unfazed. She swallowed a light gulp, clearly sensing a deep resentment from the sword. She felt as if she stood on a cliff's edge, where she would fall into the abyss at any moment. It was strenuous to absorb that kind of animosity.
By then Izrus's other assistants had rushed towards the main chapel.
"M-My lord…!"
They couldn't believe the sight unfolding before them. The rumbling within the Sanctum had alarmed them.
"Stay back!" Zerath exclaimed.
The aides jolted but stayed where they were.
Zerath's brows furrowed heavily, praying desperately in his heart.
Please don't hurt her…Please…
I love her. Please don't hurt the woman I want to cherish more than anything else in this world…
The sword continued to reverberate violently in Zerath's grip, but soon, it stopped inching forward. The crimson heat gradually dulled, resonating with the rumbling's end. The blade's silver sheen returned as if it had never gone berserk in the first place. Zerath wasted no time and pushed down his blade back into its sheath.
His hand reached out to take the adjacent pillar's support as he released a heavy gasp. His now-numb arms trembled hard from the strain forced through them in such a short span of time.
Vivia and the Sanctum's aides rushed to his side at once.
"My lord! W-What happened? Are you alright?"
Zerath's chest heaved breathlessly, but he raised his hand, assuring them of his well-being.
"I'm fine…Don't worry about me. Go and check all the floors here. See if the rumbling caused any damage or hurt anyone."
"But you need-"
"Go. I'm really fine."
"Please go," Vivia came forward. "I'll stay back with the Crown Prince. Rest assured."
The three aides exchanged hesitant glances, but eventually heeded his command. They bowed and hurried off at once.
Vivia helped him sit on the closest bench to the altar. She held his tired right arm and began applying gentle pressure across it to calm the quivering.
"Why did you jump in between!" Zerath asked impatiently. "You could've gotten hurt. It was dangerous!"
"Did you expect me to stand still and do nothing when you were struggling to hold back your furious sword?" She glared.
"Yes!"
Vivia pressed harder at his elbow, making him yelp.
"Ow, ow!"
"If you think I'd have left you to deal with it alone, then you haven't come to learn anything about me at all! Be quiet and let me massage your arm now."
Her angry scowl didn't look any less threatening than his sword. Zerath pursed his lips and remained silent as per her command. He studied her half-annoyed, half-anxious gaze. The hint of fear in her irises dropped his countenance.
"Please forgive me for putting you in danger…" his voice grew lower. "I thought it'd be a pleasant and peaceful experience at the Sanctum, but it turned out to be-"
"Ssh. It's not your fault."
"It's my sword that went berserk."
"I'm sure there'd be a reason for that," she glanced down at his waistband from which the sword hung. "It's definitely not an ordinary blade."
"It isn't…" he held a complicated expression.
"Is it related to the aura from before that helped you with subduing the ice tide? You said you didn't know what it was."
He shook his head. "No. That power had helped me then. This was…different. I felt my blade was resentful of something, even to the point of hatred. Actually, this hasn't happened for the first time."
Her eyes widened. "Really?"
His lips curved into a soft smile. "Father gave me this sword as a present. It was on my first birthday after I came to the palace."
"It's indeed a beautiful present."
"Yes. Father had found this sword at the roots of the Aetherios."
Vivia remembered Asmodea narrating something similar during the formal court hearing.
"The World Tree Aetherios…I've only heard it in the stories. To find the sword at such a mystical place - His Majesty had travelled that far south?"
He nodded.
"It was an unstable period in Rudaheim where some rebels wanted to overthrow Father. We got intel that they were operating from a forest far to the south. We planned a surprise attack, and Father and our army eventually subdued them.
But along the way, he got trapped in that forest and separated from his soldiers. He somehow made his way to take shelter under a humongous tree. That's where he found this sword lodged deep into one of the gigantic roots that had spiraled above the ground. It was later that he came to know that it was the Aetherios."
"Lady Asmodea said that the sword belonged to the Varkhail," Vivia said with a flurry of excitement.
Zerath smiled. "That's what Father believes. Maybe he does so because he wants to believe that he gave the best present to his son."
"But you don't believe that this sword could belong to that warrior?"
He scratched his chin. "I will if I get some evidence, but nobody really knows how this sword got there. Father simply got too excited because the Aetherios is powerful like Mount Lavos that holds our world in balance. So he thought that the sword must belong to Varkhail. He had almost declared it as the national treasure, but I stopped him."
Vivia laughed.
"Father had brought it to the Sanctum after he returned from the battle. I wasn't there at that time, but he told me that the sword had reacted similarly, though not as violently as today. Sire Izrus said that the sword was cursed and urged Father to seal it. But he didn't listen to him because he still felt in his heart that the sword was special."
Zerath sighed. "I remembered that incident, but I thought it was probably some coincidence. I didn't think that it'd happen again…I don't know why it reacted this way."
Vivia lifted his downtrodden face, making him look her in the eye. "I don't believe the sword is cursed."
"...Even after seeing what happened today?"
"I also saw how it helped you with Casca. If it was truly cursed and evil, then it would've consumed you long ago rather than becoming your close companion. It could've stabbed me too, but it didn't. Your friend listened to you. What happened today and in the past, happened for a reason. Wisdom is in figuring out the root problem, not declaring such a beauty as cursed," she harrumphed.
His silent gaze locked onto her face suddenly made her conscious. She wondered if hogging his arm like this crossed a line of familiarity.
She cleared her throat. "I hope your arm feels better now."
Zerath glanced down and, seeing her withdraw her hand, said, "It still feels a little numb."
She threw him a suspicious look. "...Really?"
"Yes. Will you continue for some more time? You give good massages."
"*Ahem!* Do-don't make it sound like…"
Zerath tilted his head. "Sound like?"
Perverted…or maybe I'm overthinking this? Her brow twitched.
Nevertheless, she took his arm back without complaint and resumed her massage. Holding back a berserked sword was no joke.
"You're in good hands. I'm an expert at this. I used to give a lot of massages to my fellow dancers back in Stras after a tiring performance," she said with pride. "Sooo, this won't be for free, okay?"
Zerath blinked once - then rested his left palm on the bench, leaning into her space slowly and steadily. As his gaze traced the contours of her beautiful features - from the depths of her eyes to the curve of her lips, he whispered with a low hum that echoed only between them,
"What is it that you desire? I'd give Lady Vivia anything she wants."