Zura pulled his grimoire from his belt and opened it to one of the newer pages. The black tome glowed faintly, and with a tug of intent, the Demon-Dweller Sword slid out, massive and dark, humming with that hungry aura that drank at the mana in the air. It hit the stone floor with a dull, heavy clunk, and Julius's eyes widened like a kid seeing candy for the first time.
"Ohhh, magnificent," Julius breathed, standing from his chair and circling the blade. "A sword that drains and channels magic indiscriminately… just like the legends. This was lying dormant in the dungeon all this time?!" His fingers twitched like he wanted to touch it but restrained himself.
Zura shrugged. "Yeah. It was calling to me, like it wanted to be wielded. But I'm not stupid enough to carry a magic-vampire blade around for fun. I keep it sealed in my grimoire for now. Safer that way."
Julius chuckled softly. "Practical. Rare trait in one so young."
"Practical's what keeps me alive," Zura shot back. He hesitated, then added, "That's not all." He fished into his cloak, pulling out the scroll Sekke had brought him earlier. "This thing—it lit up when I touched it. Writing vanished, and…" He lifted his grimoire again. The pages glowed, and for a split second, the tiny figure of Sylph shimmered into existence above the tome, her translucent wings flickering with raw wind mana before she vanished again.
The room went quiet. Julius froze, then slowly leaned in, wide-eyed. "A spirit…? And not just any—the wind spirit. You've contracted with her already?"
"'Contracted' is a strong word," Zura said flatly. "She appeared, said nothing, and poofed. Doesn't answer when I call, doesn't stick around. But she's in there, in my grimoire. I can feel her mana pressing against mine, though. It's strong and ancient."
Julius didn't even try to hide his grin now. He looked like he was practically vibrating with excitement. "Incredible. Both in the same dungeon… a sword of legend and a primal spirit choosing the same mage." He turned his gaze on Zura, sharp and heavy despite his boyish excitement. "Do you know what this means?"
Zura folded his arms. "Yeah. That I just painted a massive target on my back. Everyone and their mother's going to want to dissect me for parts once word spreads."
Julius laughed, light and airy, but his eyes stayed serious. "That, yes. But more importantly, it means fate isn't something you can run from. Zura… whether by design of the gods, or the flow of mana in this world, or something else entirely—you were brought here to save this kingdom. Perhaps even this world."
Zura narrowed his eyes. "Save it, huh? You make it sound like I have a choice."
Julius leaned back, folding his arms behind his back. "Choice? Oh, you'll always have choice. But the results will converge the same way. You could have left the sword buried, or refused the scroll. Even then, I would have made sure they reached you. Because they belong to you." He leaned forward, voice softening but sharpening all at once. "You are not just a mage of Clover Kingdom, Zura. You are its cornerstone."
Zura looked down at the grimoire glowing faintly in his hand, feeling the hum of the sword and the restless stir of Sylph's presence within. Fate, destiny, divine calling—whatever label Julius wanted to slap on it, it still felt like a cage.
He smirked anyway, masking the churn in his gut. "Cornerstone, huh? Sounds like a lot of pressure. But fine. If I'm the one who's supposed to 'save the world,' guess I'll do it my way."
Julius smiled like that was exactly what he wanted to hear.
Zura pushed the heavy doors open, stepping out into the hall with his grimoire tucked back at his side. His face was calm, but inside he was still chewing on Julius's words.
Waiting just outside, leaning against the wall, Klaus straightened immediately. "Finally! You were in there forever." His voice carried that usual uptight edge, like Zura had committed a crime by existing too long in front of royalty.
Mimosa, on the other hand, tilted her head, worry in her eyes. "Did… Wizard King scold you? He didn't, right? He seemed so curious when we were all in the room…"
Sekke threw his hands up dramatically. "Bro, don't tell me you're in trouble already! I swear, if you're about to get demoted after one dungeon trip, I'm not covering for you!"
Zura couldn't help but smile. 'Look at them. They all were clearly worried about me despite acting like assholes. Except, of course, Mimosa.'
Zura gave them a flat look. "Relax. He wasn't mad. Actually, he was… chill about everything." He scratched the back of his neck. "Too chill, honestly."
Klaus frowned. "Chill? Captain Julius is the Wizard King. He isn't 'chill.' He is—"
"Dude," Zura cut in, "he's literally chill. Like, scary chill. I tell him what went down, sword, scroll, spirit, all that crap—and instead of losing his mind or lecturing me, he's like, 'Oh yeah, guess you're the world's chosen savior. Cool.'"
Sekke's jaw dropped. "WHAT?! That's not chill! That's like—super pressure! You're dead, man. Totally dead. Better start writing your will and—"
Mimosa smacked Sekke's arm. "Stop it. That's not helpful." Then she turned back to Zura, softer. "But… if Captain Julius trusts you with all of that, then maybe it means he believes you can handle it. That's… kind of amazing, isn't it?"
Klaus adjusted his glasses with a huff, still looking unconvinced. "Hmph. The Wizard King must see something in you… though I struggle to imagine what."
Zura smirked at him. "Jealous much?"
"Wha—I—!" Klaus sputtered, his face turning red.
Sekke immediately latched on, laughing. "Ooooh, he's jealous! Our four-eyes noble can't handle that Zura's the chosen one!"
"SEKKE!" Klaus barked.
Zura just kept walking past them, hands in his pockets, grin tugging at his lips. The weight of the sword and Sylph's presence in his grimoire was heavy, but for now, he'd let their chatter drown it out. Julius's words were still echoing in the back of his skull—cornerstone of this world—but he wasn't about to show that on his face.
"Come on," he said over his shoulder. "Let's get out of here before the Wizard King finds another excuse to keep us talking for hours. I've had enough spotlight for one day."