Chapter 32: The Unworthy King

The library trembled under the weight of two forces—the divine and the defiant.
Light clashed with shadow; the air itself screamed between them.

Caine Velarius stood at the center of it all, his violet eyes burning like dying stars.
Across from him, Salvation raised her hand, and every book in the hall fluttered open—pages turning as though searching for a forgotten line.

“Do you truly think yourself worthy to command destiny?” Salvation’s voice echoed, cold and calm.

Caine smiled faintly.

“Worthy? No. Merely capable.”
“The difference between gods and kings is that gods watch while kings act.”

Kanata stepped forward, his right arm burning beneath the bandages.
Naomi Kaname faced him—her blade of light humming softly, eyes clouded with grief.

“Kanata…” she whispered.
“Please. Don’t make me do this.”

“You don’t have to.”

“He commands me!”
Her scream tore through the silence, and she lunged.

Steel met steel—the impact rang like a bell through the sacred hall.

Nagiha and Aine moved beside me instantly, their magic flaring in unison.

“We’ll handle her together!” Aine cried, weaving sigils of flame.

“Big Sister, snap out of it!” Nagisa shouted.

Naomi didn’t answer. Her strikes were flawless, mechanical—each one driven by the curse of Destiny Manipulation.
Every swing bent gravity, air, and even time itself.

Aine charged first, her twin chakrams spinning.

“<Inferno Reign>!”

Fire surged, but Naomi sliced through the flames, scattering them like dust.
Her counterstroke was instantaneous—blinding arcs of light forcing Aine to block with both weapons. Sparks flew; Aine skidded backward, knees buckling.

Nagisa dashed in next, her katana shimmering with cutting wind.

“<Gale Fang>!”

A tornado erupted, slamming into Naomi and shattering part of the marble floor.
For a heartbeat, her control wavered—just enough for me to move.

I rushed forward, parrying her downward slash. Our blades locked.
I could see it—behind the empty obedience in her eyes—a flicker of sorrow.

“You can fight it, Naomi!” I yelled.
“You’re stronger than his curse!”

She hesitated. Her lips trembled—then a tear rolled down her cheek.

“Kanata… I wish that were true.”

A blast of white energy erupted from her palm, sending me crashing through a bookshelf.
Dust and glowing pages swirled around me like dying fireflies.

Across the hall, Envy and Erika shielded Haqua as debris rained down.
Erika drew her rifle-blade, shooting down collapsing fragments mid-air.

“Haqua, stay down!”

“I can help—!”

“Not yet!” Envy barked, her voice sharper than usual.
“You are the key, little one. If anything happens to you, the bond will fail.”

Haqua bit her lip, watching her brother fight.

“…Then hurry, Kanata…”

At the altar, Caine and Salvation faced each other like mirrored worlds.
Words were their weapons; belief, their battleground.

“Fate is a cage,” Caine declared.
“The strong deserve to rewrite it.”

“Fate is balance,” Salvation countered.
“And those who break it will shatter the story of every soul.”

“Then let it shatter!”
“If gods refuse to change, I will be the hammer that reshapes creation!”

Books exploded into flame around them, energy distorting space itself.
Every sentence spoken rewrote the gravity in the chamber.
Each syllable felt like truth colliding with truth.

Salvation’s calm began to falter; for the first time, her voice shook.

“Your arrogance will erase humanity!”

“Humanity thrives on arrogance!” Caine roared.

Their power clashed invisibly—minds colliding across dimensions, thought against thought, conviction against eternity.

Back near the gate, Naomi’s assault slowed—her breathing ragged, her sword flickering.
Nagisa pressed forward.

“If you’re really the hero I looked up to…” she shouted, tears in her eyes, “…then prove it now!”

Naomi hesitated.
And for one instant—just one—the curse cracked.

Kanata seized the moment, disarming her with a flare of energy.
The bandages on his right arm tore open, revealing the black-scaled limb beneath.

He reached out—not to strike, but to hold her shoulder.

“Rest, Naomi.”
“You’ve done enough.”

The light in her eyes dimmed, and she collapsed into his arms—unconscious but free.

The hall fell silent except for the faint hum of clashing wills between Caine and Salvation.

Far beneath, in the treasure vault, Jeanne wandered alone.
Her torchlight flickered across the piles of gold until something caught the glow—a long shaft of radiant metal.

She knelt.

A golden halberd, etched with runes that pulsed like living fire.
Her eyes widened.

“So this is it… the weapon of the First Solomon.”

Her hand trembled as she touched the blade, and for an instant, an image burned across her mind—
a woman in a crown of light, standing over a fallen king.

The same symbol glowed faintly on the wall behind her—
a mural depicting a prophecy:
A woman of gold shall rise, and from her blade, the false king shall fall.

Back in the library, Kanata’s right arm flared violently as he restrained Naomi.
The pressure of his unleashed mana cracked the floor—and then the wall behind him shattered outward.

Dust cleared.

And there it was.

An enormous mural painted across the exposed stone—
the exact same vision Jeanne had seen below.

A woman with golden hair, haloed in fire, raising a spear toward a shadowed throne.

Kanata’s eyes widened.

“That face…”
“It’s—Jeanne.”

Before he could say more, a thunderous crash shook the entire library—Caine’s power surging, Salvation’s voice screaming in defiance.

Then, silence.

The air grew still, the light dimmed.

And from the ruins below, Jeanne’s voice echoed faintly through the broken wall:

“The time has come for the Golden Cross to rise.”

The last thing Kanata saw before the chamber collapsed was the gleam of her halberd cutting through the dark.

To be continued…