Chapter 3. Angel Of Swords

At first, all Valorth could do was hover before the towering being, unable to speak. Not just out of fear, but because he lacked a physical body.

The giant figure stirred slightly, sending tremors through Valorth’s existence. It was overwhelming. His vision had revealed an ancient scene of the Angel of Arms, who called itself the Angel of Swords. But why? He was merely a first-vein Hearteater, so why had he gained such a tremendous power?

Is it because of my corrupted heart? Many face corruption, even among the empire’s defence forces, but they’re executed immediately to avoid risk. Undergoing this process illegally has had its benefits.

“Time is up.”

Valorth snapped out of his thoughts as the giant figure stirred again. With immense force that disrupted the ethereal world around them, it raised its massive great sword in a single-handed grip. Terror overwhelmed Valorth’s consciousness, and he felt himself shrinking against his will.

He had wasted an Angel’s time!

Thinking quickly, he gazed at the great sword poised to strike and recognised its shape. Unable to speak aloud, he tried a different method. One that felt like thinking aloud.

“The Blade of Kacel!”

He didn’t hear his own words, but the Angel’s reaction confirmed it had somehow heard him. The great sword paused mid-swing, and the shrouded figure slowly lowered it to the ethereal ground, resuming its observation of the insignificant presence before it.

“What do you know of that name? Are you not a weak man who relies on the power of hearts, or has my perception failed me?”

It took all of Valorth’s will not to falter under the Angel’s words. Moments ago, he had feared annihilation; now, an Angel was questioning its own intuition. He had to tread carefully, as he was now toying with forces that threatened his very existence.

“You’re not wrong, Great Angel Armaneus. I’m merely a human. The weakest of them all, if I’m honest.”

Valorth couldn’t tell, but he sensed the Angel of Swords regarding him with curiosity, as if wondering how such a being had come to know its name.

I promise, I’m just as confused as you are.

Valorth continued. “I’ve been granted a strange… power. It showed me what I believe was a glimpse of the past. A scene of you on a throne, receiving the Blade of Kacel from a figure whose name I don’t know. After hearing them use your name, I dared to pray to it, hoping to earn your attention.”

He chose honesty when speaking to an Angel. After all, Armaneus had the power to pull his spirit into this strange pocket dimension. Valorth wouldn’t be surprised if it could detect lies.

The towering figure of Angel Armaneus remained motionless, staring down at him. After a few tense moments, it spoke.

“And what was your plan after earning my attention?” it bellowed, igniting a spark of hope in Valorth.

Will my prayers be answered? More importantly, will I be allowed to return to my physical body?

“Anything, Great Angel. If you can help me become more powerful, my heart would show its true gratitude!” Valorth pleaded.

“I have no need for the gratitude of a weak man. In fact, there is nothing that I need from the human race that once crawled from the dirt,” the Angel retorted.

Valorth felt his existence quiver and shrink. The Angel of Arms was known as a fierce deity, but meeting it face-to-face revealed that to be an understatement.

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So the risk I took was for nothing…

Just as despair threatened to consume him, the Angel’s voice shook the world again.

“To learn the names of two angels is a feat a man like you shouldn’t have achieved. A man one who dares not even carry a sword with his spirit.”

Suddenly, Valorth’s vision began to fade, the world turning colourless.

“If you pray to my name again, it will be the last time that you pray.”

And then, everything went black.

———

Valorth jolted upright, his clothes and the floor beneath him drenched in sweat. It took several moments of heavy breathing and glancing around to realise he was back in his dull chambers, exactly where he had collapsed.

The noise beyond the door indicated that a considerable amount of time had passed. Servants chattered as they rose from their beds, preparing for the day in the palace.

“Shit…” Valorth cursed under his breath. Morning had arrived, yet he felt none of the benefits of sleep. His body was exhausted from his encounter with the angel whose name he now dared not utter.

Have I been cursed by the patron angel of the Central Empire?

The thought plunged him into despair. Were it not for the Angel’s final words, he might have succumbed to the hopelessness threatening to overwhelm him.

The names of two angels… It said I’ve learned the names of two angels, which can only mean one thing.

Kacel is the name of another Angel!

He understood why the Angel of Swords was astonished that he had gained knowledge of two angel names. It seemed unfathomable for a first-vein Hearteater, corrupted or not.

Hearing the sounds of servants preparing for the day outside, Valorth quickly tidied his room and changed into a fresh set of servant clothes. A simple black suit with white gloves and a black cap. He had overslept, leaving no time to wash at the public basin, so he headed straight for the servant dining hall.

Taking a deep breath, Valorth opened the door and was met with the bustling activity of dozens of servants navigating the underground corridors of the Uradesh Palace. The basement housed all kinds of servants, such as hall boys, maids, chefs, and others dedicated to serving the palace’s residents. It contained a dining hall, wash room, and utility rooms for the palace’s needs.

As dozens hurried to the dining hall, Valorth felt as though every eye was on him. After a few deep breaths, he calmed himself. In truth, no one cared about him. It was simply the guilt of his corrupted heart fuelling his anxiety.

With his hands resting in his pockets, Valorth joined the crowd navigating the dimly lit corridors toward the dining hall. There, he was greeted by the chatter of voices and the aroma of bread and savoury dishes.

Along rows of wooden tables, servants sat eating breakfast and conversing. Valorth wasted no time heading to the serving dishes, where a server poured him a small bowl of porridge and handed him a loaf of tough bread. He then made his way to a table where he found the red-haired Adion, devouring his breakfast without a care.

At least one of us can act normal after last night.

As Valorth sat across from him, Adion looked up with a mischievous smirk.

“How’d you sleep, Hearteater?” he whispered.

Valorth wished he wouldn’t use that term.

“Like shit, actually. I could hardly clear my head. It feels like I barely slept,” he replied honestly, starting his meal.

Adion tipped his head back and laughed. “Sucks for you.” He leaned over the table, lowering his voice. “Not only did I sleep like a baby, but I also discovered my heart type.”

Valorth’s dark eyes widened as he stared at his friend in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“When does the great Adion ever lie? It happened when I woke up. I realised that—”

Adion’s words were cut off by the bellowing sound of a bell from the far side of the hall. The chatter died instantly, and all heads turned toward the source.

At the front stood a man well-known to every servant in the room. He wore grey trousers and a white shirt clinging to a tall, muscular frame, with a black coat draped over his shoulders. A pipe hung from his mouth, trailing smoke, and a black top hat sat on his head. A hall boy rushed over with a cup of tea, which the man waved away.

This was House Master Gandrid, overseer of all the butlers. His presence signalled that something important was about to be announced.

Valorth’s corrupted heart raced even faster.

Has he somehow discovered two Hearteaters among the servants?

Adion, however, seemed unbothered, still shoving bread into his mouth.

Gandrid cleared his throat and addressed the crowd, his sharp eyes scanning the tables. “Good morning, servants. You have work to do, so I won’t keep you long,” the older man said calmly, removing the pipe from his mouth. Valorth’s shoulders relaxed.

“It’s come to my attention that since yesterday, a persistent demonic presence has been lingering around the palace outskirts. It’s been named The Lurker and is currently being hunted by the White Hand forces. This should not endanger you, as we believe its targets are the palace nobles. Still, tread with caution in the palace gardens. And, of course, avoid anything that might attract demonic attention, unless you wish to be possessed.”