Chương 334: Son of the Strongest

(about 1 hour later) Before the sun had fully disappeared beneath the horizon, Vale and Ares arrived at the foot of the Royal Library of Irea. The colossal tower rose above them like a mountain carved from stone and memory, its countless windows catching the last traces of evening light before surrendering to dusk. Vale stopped several steps from the entrance and simply stared.

His body was still, but there was a strange hesitation in his eyes, as though crossing this threshold meant returning to a life that no longer belonged to him. Ares noticed the pause. The commander stood beside him, granting the silence the respect it deserved. Slowly, the final sliver of sunlight vanished. Darkness settled over Irea, and the city's lanterns began to awaken one by one beneath the gathering night. Only then did Vale draw a deep breath and place both hands against the massive library doors.

The ancient wood groaned beneath the pressure as he pushed. Dust shook loose from the frame. Stone scraped against stone. The doors opened inch by inch until the vast entrance finally yielded before him. Vale stepped inside and froze. The library was empty. Usually the grand halls were filled with scholars, researchers, scribes, and students moving between shelves. Today, however, the corridors stood silent.

Moonlight spilled through the high windows and painted pale paths across the floor, while thousands upon thousands of books rested undisturbed in the darkness. And yet... He could feel someone there. A faint smile touched his face.

"It is good to see you, old man."

"Good to see me?" a voice barked from behind him.

"You should have listened to my advice and lost them in the open ocean! Look where we are now!" Drago emerged from the shadows, already lecturing before he had fully appeared. The old librarian's beard swayed with each irritated word, though the anger in his voice sounded suspiciously close to concern. Vale turned toward him, the smile fading into something more sorrowful.

"Yeah..." he muttered.

"Sorry about that." Drago studied him for several seconds. The irritation slowly left his expression, replaced by a weary sigh.

"Forget it," he said at last.

"I know you've lost the raven, so stop pretending you're fine." Vale gave a small nod, unable to argue.

"I take it you've come for your equipment?" Drago asked.

"Yes," Ares answered before Vale could speak.

"His personal gear as well as the mask I entrusted to you." Vale blinked and looked at him in surprise.

"You still have the mask?" Ares nodded.

"Of course. Though I nearly had to rip your face off to remove it." Vale frowned.

"That's odd. It comes off normally when I take it off." Ares shrugged.

"Might be a me problem." He stepped closer to Drago and lowered his voice slightly. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"I assume you have the papers prepared?" Drago's expression shifted for the briefest moment. His eyes flicked toward Vale before returning to Ares.

"I do," he said carefully.

"But now isn't the time." Ares gave a single nod.

"Understood. Then let's proceed."

"Wait." Vale stepped forward.

"What happened to Shade?" Ares' face grew slightly uneasy.

"He is being held in the vault for the same reason you were imprisoned." Vale clenched his fists.

"So he survived."

"He survived," Ares confirmed.

"Can I bring him with me?" Ares shook his head.

"Not unless you can summon him yourself. Until after the match, he stays where he is." Disappointment flashed across Vale's face, but he forced himself to accept the answer.

"... Alright." The three of them moved deeper into the tower until they reached a circular chamber near the library's heart. There, resting upon a long stone table, lay Vale's belongings. For a moment he could only stare. The leather-and-steel armor. The onyx blades. The obsidian mask engraved with a golden sun. Everything was exactly where he had left it. More than that, everything had been cleaned. The steel shone faintly in the lantern light, free of salt and blood. The leather had been repaired and oiled.

Even the blades looked freshly polished. Vale picked up one of the pauldrons and ran his fingers across the smooth surface.

"... Did you do this?" Drago looked away as though embarrassed.

"Well, of course I did. Why wouldn't I?" Ares stared at the old man in genuine surprise.

"You... do things like that?" Drago snapped his head toward him, offended.

"I possess basic decency, you know." Ares recoiled slightly and raised his hands in surrender. Vale couldn't help the small sorrowful smile that escaped him. He began putting the armor on piece by piece. The familiar weight settled across his shoulders. The leather straps tightened around his chest and waist. The dagger pouches still held their blades. The twin sheaths rested comfortably against his hips. Something inside him eased. It felt like returning to himself.

He sheathed the onyx swords, lifted the obsidian mask, and turned back to the two men.

"Alright," he said quietly.

"Now all we have to do is wait." The next day arrived far too quickly. Vale sat alone in the waiting chamber beneath the colosseum while all of Irea gathered above to watch him fight. Even through the thick stone walls he could hear the crowd, thousands of voices cheering, shouting, arguing, chanting the name they still believed belonged to a mysterious champion. Lionheart. They did not know who stood behind the mask. They would know soon enough.

Vale rested his elbows on his knees and stared at the inside of the obsidian mask in his hands. No light reflected from its surface. It should have blinded him completely when worn. Instead, the world always seemed clearer through it. Beside him, the twin onyx blades rested silently against the bench, waiting. He exhaled slowly. A nervous breath. A sorrowful one. The door creaked open. Vale looked up as Drago entered the room.

"I see you're taking your sweet time," the old man said. Vale gave a bitter chuckle.

"I want to savor these moments. They might be my last." Drago opened his mouth, then closed it again. For once, the old librarian seemed unsure of what to say. Instead, he stepped closer and held out a document and a pen.

"Here." Vale frowned and accepted them.

"What is this?"

"Sign it," Drago said.

"It will give you something worth fighting for." Confused, Vale looked down at the paper. As he read the first lines, his breath caught. His eyes widened. The pen nearly slipped from his fingers.

"These..." he whispered.

"These are adoption papers." Drago let out a slow breath and lowered himself until he was eye level with Vale.

"I heard you don't have a family," he said gently.

"And you don't remember the one you might have had." A warm smile spread across the old man's face.

"So allow me to be that family." Vale stared at him, speechless.

"It will give you a reason to survive," Drago continued.

"And if I'm being honest... I've already started thinking of you as my son." The room became utterly silent. Vale could only stare. Drago eventually sighed and began to stand again.

"You don't have to answer now-" He stopped when Vale suddenly rose and wrapped his arms around him. The old man's eyes widened in shock.

"Thank you..." Vale whispered. Drago simply stood there, frozen. Then his expression softened, and he slowly returned the embrace. Neither of them spoke. They didn't need to. When Vale finally stepped back, his eyes were still red from grief, but there was something new within them now. Purpose. The green amulet he had found in the desert temple shimmered faintly against his chest as he signed the document and handed it back. Drago looked down at the signature with unmistakable satisfaction.

A low grin spread across his face. He folded the papers carefully, then raised a fist and pressed it lightly against Vale's armored chest.

"Now go show them what my son is capable of." Vale nodded. He took up the twin onyx blades and fastened them to his belt. Then he lifted the obsidian mask and placed it over his face. The golden sun engraved upon it caught the lantern light for a brief instant before darkness swallowed the expression beneath. At the doorway, he paused and looked back one final time.

"Watch me."