The Forsaken King

Chapter 42: Blessed by the King

At the end of their conversation, the queen handed him a pair of clothes to wear for the night.

During the Festival of Rebirth the He wore a loose black robe, trimmed with gold. One of the sides was draped in patterned cloth. Half-sleeved. Around his waist hung a cloth belt, small charms tied to it.

They clicked every time he moved.

His pants were wide, light, and shimmered when he walked.

This was a gift from the king — a sign of acceptance.

He stared at himself in the mirror, complimenting himself. He placed his hand on his chin.

"Damn, Sylas, you look good."

He leaned in, checking the details one last time.

Right then—

BANG!

And again—

THUD!

"Open up!" Ana shouted.

It was loud enough to startle him.

"You know you could knock like a normal person."

Thud!

"Shut up and come out," she replied.

Sylas smiled, feeling relieved that she was back to her old self.

He opened the door.

She was already there, standing close against the door — too close.

There was an angry, heated look on her face. Her jaw was tight. Her hands curled into fists.

But then their eyes met.

And something broke. Her expression softened.

She looked away instantly, like she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

Her anger faded and was replaced by something else.

She looked completely lost... staring at the ground, unsure of what to say.

Seeing her like that made him smile. Only then did he notice the dress she was wearing.

She wore a bright red dress. Like his, it was also stitched with gold patterns.

Her sleeves were short.

Green lines ran down her arms — soft, vine-like tattoos that glowed faintly.

He hadn’t noticed it before because she always wore long sleeves.

She had tiny white flowers in her hair, placed gently like a crown.

Around her neck, she wore a necklace made of wood, smooth stones, and something clear that sparkled like frozen light.

He tried to talk.

But once he saw Ana, his mouth opened — and no words came out.

He froze.

The only thought going through his head was:

"Damn, Luis... you lucky dog."

She looked up and waved her hand in front of his face.

The only thing that slipped from his lips was—

"You look gorgeous."

The words skipped out like they had a mind of their own.

He stared at her.

"Stop staring..."

She looked down.

Her voice was soft.

He remembered her being loud. Aggressive. A hothead.

He didn’t know when she became this soft...

This gentle.

"When did you get cuter?"

Her cheeks flushed. She didn’t answer.

Instead, she kicked him on the shin — not too hard, just enough to make him flinch.

Then she turned and walked toward her mother, her face still bright red.

She didn’t look back.

The king and queens smiled at each other.

"Let’s go, son."

King Kael let out a big smile.

Sylas stepped out.

The charms on his belt clicked with each step.

He was hit by the echo of drums, music, and dancing.

The entire kingdom felt alive.

Laughter. Joy of being alive.

At that moment, class didn’t matter.

But he still wondered why the lower class had to live in such horrible conditions.

Lucian walked beside him, dressed in black and gold, just like him.

He looked focused. Eyes sharp. Serious.

Dark circles hung under his eyes, like he’d spent a sleepless night thinking about what Sylas had said — and finally came up with an answer.

Sylas glanced at him and smiled. A look that said:

"I’m waiting for your answer."

The kings walked ahead of them, while the queens followed behind.

But Ana didn’t look back.

The people were waiting.

When Sylas stepped into the plaza, the drums and singing stopped.

They all gathered around him.

He paused — then they started playing louder.

Their faces filled with even more joy.

A child ran up — the same one he gave a gold coin to when he arrived — and placed a glowing chain over his shoulders.

The king raised his hand — and the dancing began.

They formed circles.

One by one, people stepped in and started stomping, spinning, and jumping.

Some moved fast. Others danced slow.

But all of them danced like it was their last night.

Sylas stayed on the side, watching. Until—

Someone grabbed his arm.

It was Ana.

She didn’t say anything. Just pulled him forward.

He didn’t know the steps. He wasn’t familiar with that type of dance, so Ana guided him.

Their eyes met.

He let out a soft smile.

That made her lower her gaze slightly.

Her face turned red.

"Stop staring."

It came out low, soft.

So they danced throughout the night.

The moonlight shined down on them like a spotlight.

For the first time, he felt like he did something good.

The fire burned lower.

The drums slowed.

The celebration began to fade.

After the ceremony calmed down, he saw Lucian leaving the event early.

He was standing on top of the balcony, watching the people from above — the same way his father usually does.

As he stared across the land, Sylas asked,

"What’s your answer, prince?"

Lucian turned around slowly.

"You think I can?"

His voice was low. Uncertain. Almost like he was asking himself.

Sylas stepped forward.

He stood beside him, staring down at the people below.

"I don’t know."

He turned to face him.

"It’s up to you. I can give you an opportunity."

He smiled.

A slow, sharp smile — like a devil making a deal.

"Now... what is your answer?"

Lucian looked up.

"Yes."

A wide smile formed on Sylas’s face.

Excalibur appeared in his hand — unsheathed in one clean motion.

Golden light exploded outward.

The music stopped.

The dancing stopped.

The entire plaza fell silent.

They all turned.

They all ran toward the light — toward the fight.

Lucian dropped to one knee.

"You are chosen as a candidate to become a king."

Golden light burst out from Sylas, coating Lucian’s body — glowing like the sun.

"Therefore, I will grant you power."

The light spread — faster, brighter — wrapping around his arms, his back, his legs.

His veins began to glow.

"In exchange," Sylas said, his voice steady, "all I want... is your loyalty."

The world went quiet.

"Break that rule..."

"And I will strip you of everything."

He smiled.

"I grant you my blessing."

The symbol began to form.

A glowing crest of a dragon — sharp, ancient, burning gold — appeared above his chest.

"The blessing..."

"From a king."

[System Notification]

[Passive Skill: King’s Blessing]

King’s Blessing: Successful

[Rank-Up in Progress...]

Lucian stood up — and instantly started glowing.

A sharp pain ran through his body.

He lost balance and fell off the balcony, hitting the ground hard.

He screamed in pain as his body began to break and reform.

Silence followed.

Only his scream could be heard.

People surrounded him, watching from a distance.

Some were afraid to come near.

Others approached — but the power he was releasing instantly pushed them back.

King Kael ran forward to help his son, but Sylas lifted a hand, stopping him.

Then he stepped forward, his voice calm.

"Back away."

Lucian exploded — like the sun bursting open.

Sylas slammed Excalibur into the ground.

The energy couldn’t pass through.

A huge dent formed beneath him.

A glowing wave of light and pressure shot outward.

Energy surged through him, firing in every direction.

His body started to change.

No longer slim. No longer fragile.

His skin began to harden — like layered armor forming over muscle.

His body was trying to support the blessing.

It twisted. Shifted. Rebuilt itself from the inside out.

He was built for close-range. So his body changed.

He became a true brawler. A tank. A weapon made of living fury.

Slowly, he rose from the crater.

The light faded.

And what stood there...

Was someone completely different.

Someone they barely recognized.

Sylas grinned.

"How do you feel?"