(PLS LEAVE A REVIEW)
MY NEW ACCOUNT TO COMMUNICATE WITH YOU GUYS IS Joe_Mama_7666
Before the chapter I would like to thank all the members too who joined my P@treon (A lot of names).
Thank you very much for joining in and supporting my writing endeavors. I really hope my work lives up to your expectations.
You can support me too by joining my P@treon. Link below.
Now to the chapter!
Happy reading
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Third Person POV
Seven months had passed. Seven months of relentless, brutal, and transformative training. The vast Kira estate training ground, which had once been a pristine stretch of white stone and manicured grass, was now a scarred battlefield, its surface a testament to their power, littered with deep craters, lingering scorch marks, and the twisted, blackened husks of metal.
In the center of this wreckage, a two-on-one spar was reaching its climax.
"Ignara, now!" Acier's voice, crisp and commanding, cut through the air.
She slammed both hands on the ground, her four-leaf grimoire flipping open beside her. "Metal Magic: Adamantine Requiem!"
The very ground at Michael's feet erupted. Dozens of thick, heavy chains, forged from condensed, shining metal, shot up like vipers. They were too fast, too numerous. They coiled around his arms, his legs, and his torso, binding him in place with a sound of grinding metal. Acier's magic, backed by her four-leaf clover, was immensely powerful.
Just then, Ignara, who was already a blur of motion, used the command as her cue. Her entire body was wreathed in a terrifying, white-hot blaze. "Inferno Flame Magic: Ashen Impact!"
Using Ember Step to propel herself in a fiery, unpredictable dash, she appeared at Michael's right flank, her fist cocked back. All the infernal fire enveloping her body compressed into a single, terrifying point of light at her knuckles, a silent, "ash-white" flame. It was their ultimate pincer attack, perfected over months. A flawless combination designed to bind and shatter him in the same instant.
For a split second, Michael was held fast. He strained against the chains, and Acier felt a jolt of feedback. The metal groaned, the links screaming under a physical pressure that was already superhuman. His natural, inborn strength was already fighting her magic. But it wasn't enough. The chains held.
He saw Ignara coming, her Ashen Impact less than an inch from his ribs.
He didn't panic. He let his own power out.
Radiance Magic: Solar Vow
He didn't need to shout the spell. His magic answered his will. A blinding, golden-white aura exploded from his body. A pair of magnificent, fully-formed wings, made not of feathers but of pure, solidified Radiance, burst from his back.
The spell wasn't just a cloak; it was an amplifier. It took his already immense superhuman strength and multiplied it to a terrifying new level.
With a roar, he flexed.
The Adamantine Requiem didn't just break; it detonated. The heavy, magic-infused metal chains exploded outward in a shower of shrapnel, unable to contain the sheer, Vow-enhanced physical force.
But Ignara was still coming. He had no time to dodge.
He pivoted on his heel. As her fist, the Ashen Impact, came at his ribs, he parried. He didn't use a spell or a shield. He struck her attacking wrist with his soul weapon.
CRACK.
It was a purely physical strike, but it was backed by his Vow-enhanced power. Ignara screamed. The impact sent a painful, visible shockwave of force up her entire arm, shattering her bones and her spell. The compressed, white-hot inferno at her knuckles detonated prematurely, a silent, concussive blast that sent her flying backward, skidding unconscious across the stone, her arm mangled.
"IGNARA!" Acier's voice was a shriek of rage and concern from above.
Michael looked up. Acier was airborne, a pair of magnificent, metallic wings. This was her spell: Bladed Seraphim. She had used Ignara's charge as a distraction to take to the sky. Her eyes were burning with fury.
"Metal Magic: Hundred Cuts!"
She flared her wings, and a hundred razor-sharp metal feathers launched from them, homing projectiles that all converged on his position. It was a perfect, inescapable rain of steel.
But Michael just smiled. And pointed his spear at Acier.
Radiance Magic: Aegis of Dawn
A transparent, shimmering golden dome materialized around him. The metal feathers, each one as sharp as a sword, slammed into the barrier. The sound was like a storm of high-pitched chimes, but not a single one pierced his defense. The aegis held without a flicker.
From within his spear, five light spears formed and merged into one.
Radiance Magic: Solar Lance
A spear of pure, golden-white light materialized in front of his spear, aimed directly at Acier. She saw them and her eyes widened.
"Metal Magic: Silver Bulwark!" she yelled, her grimoire's pages flipping frantically.
A massive, hexagonal wall of reinforced, shimmering metal, its surface etched with glowing runes, materialized in the air in front of her. The spear slammed into it, and the sound of the impact was deafening. The shield, designed to reflect elemental attacks, held strong.
But it was a feint.
The instant Acier committed to her aerial defense, Michael was ready to attack. He stomped his foot on the ground and flew up. Pouring all his Vow-enhanced strength into his legs, he launched himself from the ground like a golden cannonball, moving so fast he was just a streak of light.
He shot past the Silver Bulwark, shattering her wings, and appeared right in front of the shocked Acier, his spear moving so naturally it was like an extension of his own arm, leveled at her throat.
She had no time to react. He was too fast.
"You've lost," he said calmly, his voice not even strained. His spear then vanished in thin air. He held her aloft, his other hand gently supporting her back to keep her from falling.
He landed on the ground, his radiant wings folding and vanishing. He carefully set Acier down on her feet. Her face was pale, her expression a mix of awe and frustration.
"You're... you're a monster, Michael," she breathed, looking over at Ignara's still form, then back at him. "You didn't have to hurt her that badly."
Michael's confident expression faded, replaced by genuine guilt. "I know. I... I misjudged. My strength with the Vow is... more than I thought." He immediately walked over to Ignara. He knelt beside her and activated his third spell, Blessing of the First Light. A concentrated, liquid-gold light poured from his hands onto her shattered arm, mending the bones and healing the torn muscle at a visible rate.
I still don't understand what these two high-quality women see in a twat like you, a gruff, familiar voice echoed in Michael's head, and only his head. Like, look at them. Then look at you. You're a block of wood with nice hair. But meh, I guess everyone's got their own tastes.
Michael fought to keep his expression neutral as Ignara's eyes fluttered open. You never shut up, do you, Lucy? He thought back.
FOR THE ONE HUNDREDTH TIME!! MY NAME IS LUCENOR! L-U-C-E-N-O-R! I AM THE STRONGEST SPIRIT OUT THERE, YOU LITTLE FUCKER! YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL YOU HAVE ME AS YOUR PARTNER! I'M A PRIMORDIAL BEING OF--
Lucenor went on his usual rant, and Michael just tuned him out, offering a hand to Ignara and pulling her to her feet.
Ignara panted, wincing as she rotated her newly-healed arm. "Your magic is broken as hell, Michael." She fixed him with her fiery gaze. "But I'll catch up. One day, I swear, I'm going to be the one to wipe that calm smile off your face and beat you into the dirt."
Acier walked over, her composure regained. "She's right. You've gotten far too strong. Congratulations, Michael. But this isn't the end. We will catch up."
Michael just smiled, a warm, genuine expression. "I know you will. That's why I can't afford to slow down."
His thoughts drifted back over the last seven months. Just as Lucenor had complained about, his relationship with the two girls had solidified. After their return from Hage, the tension was gone. They had settled into a comfortable, deeply affectionate rhythm. They trained together, ate together, and studied together. It was no secret to anyone in the three families. They were, for all intents and purposes, a couple, and already known in the noble social circles as the "Strongest Upcoming Trio."
All their parents had been overjoyed. Seraphiel and Evelina had celebrated loudly. Even Virelia Silva had given her blessing with a warm, knowing smile. The only hiccup had been, as expected, Acier's father, Lord Cael Silva.
Cael, the stern, prideful Captain of the Silver Eagles, was a man who lived and breathed tradition and family honor. He had not been pleased. He had stormed into the Kira estate demanding a meeting with Michael's father, Lord Roderic, ranting about propriety, bloodlines, and how a "childish fling" was unbecoming of the future head of House Silva.
The meeting had been held behind closed doors. Roderic had let him rant for ten minutes before calmly sliding a small, unassuming stack of papers across his desk. Michael never found out exactly what was in those papers, but Lord Cael had emerged an hour later, pale and quiet. He had looked at his daughter, who was waiting nervously outside, and had seen the genuine, quiet happiness in her eyes. He had sighed, straightened his uniform, and given a single, curt nod.
"As long as this... arrangement... does not interfere with your duties," he had said stiffly, and that was that. Roderic Kira had, as always, 'explained' the situation perfectly.
Michael's journey with Lucenor had been just as eventful. As promised, two weeks after the Grimoire Ceremony, the spirit had finally, "officially" woken up. He'd appeared in Michael's mind space and properly introduced himself as Lucenor, a... something. The name of his species or title had been blurred, just like the name he tried to say, the angel's name.
"You're not ready to know what I am, kid," Lucenor had explained, his voice laced with boredom. "Just think of me as a... really, really powerful and ridiculously handsome spirit. That's all your little mortal brain can handle for now."
The next seven months had been the most intense training of Michael's life. Lucenor was a brutal, foul-mouthed, and incredibly effective teacher. He had forced Michael to master the three base spells. Solar Lance, Aegis of Dawn, and Blessing of the First Light to the point of absolute mastery, where he no longer needed to think or speak to cast them. Only then, just last week, had he taught him the Radiance Magic: Solar Vow.
And every night, when Michael went to sleep, his consciousness would be dragged into his mind space for one-on-one spear training.
He still remembered the first night, when he had asked Lucenor which weapon was the best. "A sword, or your spear form?"
Lucenor had gone on a rant of epic proportions.
"A SWORD?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?! A SWORD?! THAT'S THE MOST OVERRATED, INEFFICIENT, SELF-IMPORTANT PIECE OF SHIT IN THE HISTORY OF WEAPONRY! 'OOH, LOOK AT ME, I HAVE A SHARP, OVERSIZED KNIFE!' IT'S A PEASANT-SLAYING TOOL, THAT'S WHAT IT IS! YOU KNOW WHAT A SWORD IS GOOD FOR? CUTTING FUCKING BREAD! A SPEAR! THE SPEAR IS THE QUEEN OF BATTLES! IT HAS REACH! IT HAS POWER! IT HAS VERSATILITY! YOU CAN THRUST, YOU CAN SLASH, YOU CAN USE THE BUTT END! A MASTER SPEARMAN WILL GUT A MASTER SWORDSMAN NINE TIMES OUT OF TEN BEFORE THE POOR BASTARD EVEN GETS IN RANGE! YOU, KID, HAVE THE ULTIMATE WEAPON. DON'T YOU EVER, EVER DISRESPECT ME BY COMPARING ME TO A FUCKING BUTTER KNIFE AGAIN!"
Michael chuckled softly at the memory. He had to admit, after months of Lucenor's... tutelage, he agreed. The spear just felt right in his hands.
His thoughts were broken by a voice shouting from the estate's main balcony. It was Elara, and she was waving her arms frantically.
"YOUNG MASTER! LADY ACIER! LADY IGNARA! COME QUICKLY! IT'S LADY LYSANDRA! SHE'S GIVEN BIRTH!"
The exhaustion from their spar vanished instantly, replaced by a jolt of pure excitement. The three of them looked at each other, wide grins breaking out on their faces. They ran over to Elara, who was crying happy tears, and pulled her into a quick, celebratory group hug before the four of them sprinted off, not toward the estate, but toward the royal clinic in the capital.
They arrived, sweaty and out of breath, to a scene of quiet, tired joy. In a private room, Lysandra was propped up in bed, looking exhausted but happy. In her arms was a tiny, red-faced bundle wrapped in a crimson Vermillion blanket. Lord Ignatius and Lady Evelina were there, their usual stern expressions softened with a rare, gentle pride. And standing by Lysandra's bedside, looking completely dazed and awestruck, was her husband, Ardan, his Vice-Captain's uniform rumpled.
Acier and Ignara immediately rushed to the bedside, cooing over the baby.
"She's so... tiny," Ignara whispered, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she gently poked the baby's cheek.
Michael hung back, congratulating Ardan with a firm handshake and offering his respects to Ignara's parents.
"So, the name?" Michael asked, smiling.
Lysandra looked down at the tiny, sleeping face in her arms, her expression impossibly soft. "Mereoleona," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "Mereoleona Vermillion."
"Pah!" Ignara declared, puffing out her chest. "I can already tell. She's going to be exactly like me. A pure-blooded, fiery lioness!"
The entire room, including her parents and a very tired Lysandra, shared a hearty laugh.
"What!" Ignara yelled, her face turning red. "Why is that funny?!"
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
MEREOLEONA IS HERE!! AND IS THE WEAPON'S NAME GOOD?
Let me know how you liked it in the comments.
AND PUT THE POWERSTONES IN THE BAG RIGHT NOW!!
Hope you would like it.
Plus I got 3 early access chapters for it up on my P@treon. If you dont want to pay you can be a free member and get a sneak at the upcoming chapters.
This link is below
https://[email protected]/cw/Joe_Mama24
Replace the @ with a