CHAPTER NINE — The stakes are high
The air cracked like brittle glass as the angels shifted, their golden radiance sharpening into something lethal. Spears tilted downward. Feathers burned at the edges. The scent of ozone thickened, coiling around the villagers' throats like a warning.
They were seconds—breaths—from attacking.
Eyron stood untouched by their glow, eyes cold, siblings tensed behind him, the entire village trembling under the weight of divine judgment.
The first angel's wings unfurled, blinding and absolute.
"Negotiation denied."
Arian crouched to launch.
Sera's blades flashed.
Even the young ones clung to their mother, feeling death descend like winter.
Eyron didn't flinch.
"Touch my family," Eyron murmured, "and heaven will break its own laws."
The second angel raised its spear—glowing so fiercely the ground hissed beneath it.
"The laws bend for divine necessity."
Eyron's jaw tightened.
"Then watch me bend them back."
The spear drew back.
Light condensed.
The air screamed.
And then—
A violent tear ripped across the sky.
Everything froze.
Even the angels.
A piece of the heavens themselves opened—not with radiance, but with weight. A pressure so ancient, so absolute, that the angels dropped to one knee without command.
A scroll of obsidian light drifted down, shimmering like ink poured through starlight. It landed between Eyron and the angels, floating in the air, sealed by a burning sigil no mortal could name.
The first angel whispered, voice trembling for the first time:
"…A letter from The One sitted on the throne."
The villagers gasped.
Even King Valerian thier father staggered back.
The angels stepped forward, reverent, and touched the scroll. The seal cracked with a sound like the universe exhaling.
The message projected itself in the air, written in a script that shimmered and burned:
"The mortal Eyron Arknight's terms are accepted."
The angels recoiled as if struck.
"No…" the second angel whispered. "This cannot be. Mortals cannot dictate—"
The message flared brighter:
"The Arknight child has invoked a loophole bound in the oldest law.
A debt may be bargained by blood of descendants equal to the debt's weight."
Eyron's heart pounded—but his expression remained cold.
The air vibrated again, and new words appeared:
"Six years of heavenly service.
If the lineage survives and the kingdom is reclaimed,
the condemned shall be freed.
This decree is final."
Sera gasped. Arian's hand slipped from his sword.
The letter turned black, dissolved into dust, and vanished.
Silence.
Not peaceful.
Crushing.
The first angel rose slowly, wings lowering—not hostile now, but bound to the decree.
"Eyron Arknight… your terms are law."
The second angel's eyes flared with controlled fury.
"You have been granted something no mortal has earned in a thousand ages. Be warned: one misstep, one breach, one stray spark of rebellion, and the heavens will erase you."
Eyron stepped closer, unbothered by the spear still glowing in the angel's grip.
"There will be no breach."
Arian swallowed. "What now?"
The angels turned to Eyron's parents.
"It is time."
Lady Isolde's, their mother, hand flew to her mouth.
King Valerian's jaw trembled—but he forced himself forward, dignity unbroken.
Eyron looked at them.
For just a moment—one heartbeat—his eyes softened.
Then they hardened again.
Mother knelt and cupped his face.
"My son… whatever path you walk—"
"I will walk it sharper than any blade," Eyron finished. "Go. I'll bring you home."
Arian stepped forward. "We can still fight—!"
"No," Eyron snapped quietly. "If we fight now, we lose everything. Trust me."
Sera grasped his arm. "Eyron… are you sure?"
He nodded once. "Six years is better than eternity."
The angels extended their hands.
Chains of golden light wrapped around Eyron's parents—not cruelly, but with finality.
Lisha burst into tears.
Liam reached for them helplessly.
Lily screamed.
King Valerian looked at his children one last time.
"Protect each other," he said. "Arknights do not die easily."
The angels lifted them into the sky.
Eyron watched, face carved from iron.
As the golden figures vanished into the clouds, the entire village fell into terrified stillness.
Arian exhaled shakily. "Eyron… what have we started?"
Eyron's Analyse pulsed at the edge of his vision:
[NEW PATH UNLOCKED]
[BARGAIN OF BLOOD — ACTIVE]
[RISK: INCALCULABLE]
[REWARD: SALVATION OR EXTINCTION]
Eyron turned toward the trembling villagers, the silent siblings, the empty sky where the angels vanished.
Slowly, a cold, calculating smile formed.
"We started," he whispered,
"the rise of the next king."