In one of the most luxurious chambers of the Celestial Palace, one of the youngest sons of Arthur Crownveil, King of Celestial, lay sprawled across a massive bed.
His name was Caelmir Crownveil.
Like all members of the Crownveil family, Caelmir possessed long, snow-white hair. It spilled lazily over his shoulders, some strands resting against the pillow beneath his head. His skin was unnaturally pale and flawless, almost luminous beneath the faint morning sunlight filtering through the curtains.
His sapphire-blue eyes were currently closed, however, sparing the world from their brilliance.
His face was almost unnervingly perfect.
A straight, sharp nose. Thick eyebrows. Long eyelashes. Full crimson lips. A well-defined jaw and features so symmetrical that it seemed as though some divine sculptor had spent years perfecting every little detail.
If Aphrodite herself had descended from the heavens and decided to create the perfect male face, Caelmir would probably have considered it a personal insult.
After all, he was convinced he looked better.
The room itself was just as extravagant.
White marble covered the floor, polished so thoroughly that it reflected the golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Elaborate golden ornaments decorated the walls, while dark-blue curtains framed the enormous windows overlooking the gardens of the Celestial Palace.
A faint breeze slipped through the partially opened curtains, carrying the scent of flowers from outside.
The atmosphere was peaceful.
Almost divine.
There was only one problem.
The expression on the prince's face suggested that he was currently experiencing the worst nightmare of his life.
His eyebrows were tightly furrowed.
His breathing was uneven.
And his fingers were gripping the sheets.
Then—
BANG!
The doors to his chamber flew open.
"Caelmir!"
The voice of a woman echoed throughout the room.
"Wake up!"
Caelmir's eyes twitched.
No response.
"Caelmir!"
Still nothing.
A woman dressed in an elegant white and gold gown marched toward the bed.
Seraphine Crownveil.
Queen of Celestial.
Mother of Caelmir.
She stopped beside the bed and stared down at her son.
Her expression slowly turned murderous.
"The palace awaits you, you little brat."
"Mmmh..."
Caelmir merely rolled onto his side and pulled the blanket over his head.
Seraphine's eyebrow twitched.
"The ceremony begins in four hours."
No response.
"Your sister has already started preparing."
Nothing.
"Caelmir."
Silence.
"The Elders are already displeased with you."
The blanket moved slightly.
Seraphine smiled.
"Good. You're listening."
A muffled voice came from underneath the blanket.
"...I'm sleeping."
Seraphine's smile disappeared.
"Get up."
"No."
"Get up."
"Five more minutes."
"You have four hours."
"Exactly. That's plenty of time."
Seraphine stared at him in disbelief.
"The Awakening Ceremony is one of the most important ceremonies in the entire kingdom, and you're treating it like an afternoon nap."
Caelmir finally emerged from beneath the blanket.
His white hair was a complete mess.
He opened one eye.
"Morning, Mom."
"Don't 'morning, Mom' me."
Caelmir yawned and sat up.
"Alright, alright. I still have time."
"Your sister has already been awake for nearly two hours."
"Célénia has always been an early riser."
"That's because she understands responsibility."
"I understand responsibility."
Seraphine folded her arms.
"You threw a strawberry pie at Duke Augustin last year."
Caelmir immediately looked offended.
"That wasn't entirely my fault."
"You threw it."
"He deserved it."
"You threw a pie at the Duke of House Valerian during a diplomatic dinner."
"He insulted me first."
"He said you were behaving like a spoiled child."
Caelmir paused.
"...And?"
Seraphine closed her eyes.
"You're impossible."
Caelmir shrugged.
"And I wasn't even the only one involved. Célénia called him a steroid-fed pig."
Seraphine sighed.
"Yes. But your sister has a good reputation."
"That's unfair."
"Life is unfair."
"So because she has a good reputation, she can insult nobles?"
"Precisely."
Caelmir stared at his mother.
"...That doesn't sound like justice."
"It isn't."
For a moment, mother and son stared at one another.
Then Seraphine pointed toward the bathroom.
"You have one hour."
"One hour?"
"One."
"That's plenty."
"Caelmir."
"Fine."
Seraphine turned toward the door.
"And don't make me come back here."
She stopped and looked over her shoulder.
"If you aren't ready in an hour, I'll personally drag you to the audience hall wearing whatever you're currently wearing."
Caelmir glanced down at himself.
He was still in his sleeping clothes.
"...You wouldn't."
"I am your mother."
She smiled sweetly.
"Never underestimate me."
With that, she left.
The doors closed behind her.
Silence returned.
Caelmir stared at the ceiling.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he sighed.
"She's terrifying."
He threw the blanket aside and stood.
As he passed the enormous mirror near his wardrobe, he stopped.
His reflection stared back at him.
Caelmir's eyes narrowed.
He slowly turned his head.
"...Damn."
He smiled.
"Still handsome."
He approached the mirror.
His long, white hair fell naturally over his shoulders, contrasting beautifully with his pale complexion. His sapphire eyes were vivid despite the fact that he had just woken up.
He examined his face from different angles.
"Perfect."
He touched his chin.
"Absolutely perfect."
Then his gaze lowered.
He frowned.
"...Except for that."
His stomach was completely normal.
No defined abdominal muscles.
No impressive physique.
Nothing worthy of the Crownveil name.
Caelmir sighed dramatically.
"The tragedy of my existence."
Still, that would soon change.
After today's Awakening Ceremony, his father had promised him access to the royal training hall and the Crownveil family's cultivation manuals.
Finally, he would be able to properly cultivate.
Finally, he would be able to develop his abilities.
And, more importantly—
He could finally shut Maverick up.
That bastard had been bragging for months after reaching the Paladin Realm.
Every time Caelmir saw him, Maverick somehow found a way to mention it.
I've reached the Paladin Realm.
My swordsmanship has improved.
Father praised my cultivation.
Have you started cultivating yet, Caelmir?
Caelmir hated that last question the most.
"Just wait, Maverick."
A mischievous smile appeared on his lips.
"Once I start cultivating, I'll wipe that smug expression off your face."
He turned away from the mirror and headed toward the bathroom.
But before entering, he stopped.
His smile disappeared.
Something had suddenly crossed his mind.
That nightmare.
"...Still."
He looked back at the mirror.
"That dream was strange."
He couldn't remember exactly when it had begun.
There had been no warning.
No transition.
One moment, he had been sleeping peacefully.
The next—
He was standing in a sea of blood.
The memory returned in fragments.
The first thing he remembered was the smell.
Iron.
Blood.
So much blood.
It had filled his lungs and burned his throat.
The floor beneath his feet was red and sticky.
Every step made a wet sound.
Squish.
Squish.
Bodies were scattered everywhere.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Citizens.
Guards.
Knights.
Paladins.
People Caelmir recognized.
People he had spoken to.
People he had seen in the palace every day.
All of them were dead.
Some had been dismembered.
Others had been pierced through the chest.
Some had their throats cut.
The sight had been so horrifying that Caelmir had forgotten how to breathe.
He remembered looking toward the palace.
The magnificent Celestial Palace—
The symbol of the Crownveil dynasty—
had been reduced to ruins.
Golden towers had collapsed.
Walls were shattered.
Smoke filled the sky.
Fire consumed what remained of the buildings.
And somewhere in the distance, screams echoed through the ruins.
Not one scream.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Then Caelmir had noticed something.
Someone was standing among the destruction.
A translucent figure.
It was impossible to determine whether the figure was male or female.
Its body seemed almost transparent, as though it wasn't truly there.
Caelmir remembered feeling something strange when he saw it.
Fear.
Not the kind of fear caused by seeing corpses.
Something deeper.
Instinctive.
The figure turned toward him.
Its lips moved.
Caelmir couldn't hear anything.
He stepped forward.
"What?"
The figure continued speaking.
Nothing.
Not a single sound.
It was as though an invisible wall separated them.
Caelmir moved closer.
"What are you saying?"
Still nothing.
He took another step.
The figure raised one hand.
And then—
Caelmir woke up.
He remembered sitting upright in his bed, breathing heavily.
His heart had been pounding.
And somehow, even after waking up, he could still feel the same suffocating dread.
Caelmir stared at his reflection.
"What were you trying to tell me?"
The figure's face remained blurry in his memory.
He couldn't remember it.
But he remembered the feeling.
The certainty that whatever the figure had been trying to tell him was important.
Very important.
A chill ran down his spine.
He shook his head.
"No."
Today was supposed to be a celebration.
His Awakening.
The moment he would officially begin his path as a cultivator.
He wasn't going to let some stupid nightmare ruin it.
"Probably just stress."
Caelmir turned away.
"Besides, if something bad happens today, Mother will probably beat it to death before it reaches me."
He chuckled.
Then he stepped into the bathroom.
Several minutes later, hot water poured over his shoulders.
Caelmir closed his eyes.
"Ahhh..."
The warmth immediately relaxed his muscles.
The nightmare seemed to fade with every second.
Steam filled the bathroom, covering the large mirrors and marble walls.
For a while, Caelmir simply stood there.
No Elders.
No ceremonies.
No responsibilities.
No Maverick.
Just peace.
Unfortunately, peace never lasted long around Caelmir.
A loud knock echoed from outside.
"Caelmir!"
His eyes snapped open.
"You're not seriously still in the bathroom, are you?"
His mother's voice.
Caelmir sighed.
"Coming!"
"You have forty minutes!"
"I know!"
"Thirty-nine!"
"Mom!"
He quickly finished bathing and returned to his room.
His ceremonial clothes were waiting for him.
The outfit was entirely black, with intricate golden embroidery running along the sleeves, shoulders, and chest.
At the center of the uniform was the crest of House Crownveil.
An eye surrounded by two crossed blades.
This was the Tharion.
The traditional ceremonial uniform worn by the Crownveil family during the Awakening Ceremony.
His father had worn it.
His older brothers had worn it.
Generations of Crownveil ancestors had worn it.
And today, Caelmir would finally wear it.
He carefully put it on.
The black fabric fit perfectly against his body.
The golden embroidery reflected the sunlight streaming through the window.
At his waist rested a ceremonial sword decorated with rare Lumen Crystals.
Two additional blades hung at his side.
One had a curved, serpent-like shape.
The other resembled a traditional knight's sword, complete with a cross-shaped guard.
Caelmir ran his fingers over the weapons.
The moment he touched them, something about the engraved eye caught his attention.
For a fraction of a second—
He thought he saw it move.
Caelmir froze.
He blinked.
Nothing.
The eye was simply an engraving.
"...I'm imagining things."
He adjusted his collar.
Then he looked at himself in the mirror one final time.
His white hair.
His sapphire eyes.
His black-and-gold Tharion.
The sword at his waist.
Caelmir smiled.
"Now that's a prince."
He turned toward the door.
The nightmare was forgotten.
At least for now.
Today was the day everything would change.
Today, Caelmir Crownveil would undergo his Awakening.
He had no idea what power awaited him.
He had no idea what fate had prepared.
And he certainly didn't know that the nightmare he had dismissed as meaningless was not a dream at all.
It was a warning.
Caelmir opened the door.
Outside, the palace corridors were already bustling with activity.
Servants hurried from one room to another.
Knights stood at attention.
Nobles arrived from distant territories.
The distant sound of bells echoed throughout the palace.
The Awakening Ceremony was beginning.
Caelmir took a deep breath.
Then he smiled.
"Let's see what I'm capable of."
He walked toward the audience hall.
Unaware that somewhere beyond the walls of the Celestial Palace, something had already begun to move.
And whatever it was—
It was coming for him.