NABC Chapter 56 Beneath the Weight of Heaven
Chapter 56 Beneath the Weight of Heaven
Aria found herself standing without realizing it.
They were so young.
Not even past their teenage years, far from their prime.
Yet the Young Lord of Akrest, born with the Heavenly Martial Body, had been defeated?
And by a girl barely past her childhood?
The one hailed as a genius even recognized by the Sword Sovereign himself?
This wasn't just a loss—it was a verdict.
A declaration that the Akrest Clan, the strongest power in the martial world, would not hold its position forever.
Thirty years, at most.
Perhaps even less than ten.
'...The Great Reversal.'Nôv(el)B\\jnn
Aria clenched her small fists tightly.
It had been fifty years.
Fifty years since the Sword Sovereign unified the Central Plains under one rule.
The Demonic Cult and the unorthodox sects had been pushed into hiding.
Even the foreign martial forces dared not challenge the Central Plains.
Peace had been achieved—or so they thought.
But this wasn't peace.
Not the peace she desired.
A peace that strangled everyone into silence, forcing compliance while claiming harmony?
She didn't want that.
'I must inform the Heaven Unity.'
The martial world now revolved around the Akrest Clan's order.
The Heavenly Unity Corps roamed unchecked, safeguarding the unity's authoritarian rule.
And when necessary, the Midnight Celestial Pavilion carried out assassinations to maintain this oppressive peace.
Amid this suffocating, fear-driven order, the Everstone Clan secretly supported the Heaven Unity.
And they were not alone.
Like-minded individuals and groups, bound by shared ideals, ensured the unity could not be eradicated, no matter how hard the unity tried.
'...That child must not fall into the hands of the unity.'
In the office of the Sect Leader, known as Scarlet Crown Chamber, the atmosphere was tense.
Gideon gritted his teeth, almost slamming his desk in frustration.
But a knock at the door interrupted him.
"May I enter, Sect Leader?"
It was Ebon's voice.
"Come in, Clan Leader."
The door opened silently, a testament to the craftsmanship of the frame.
Ebon entered the Scarlet Crown Chamber, his expression unreadable.
"Did you sleep well last night?" he asked.
"I didn't sleep a wink," replied Gideon.
"Neither did I."
Ebon closed the door behind him and spread his energy outward, ensuring no sound could escape.
He had something confidential to discuss.
"Are you troubled by that girl as well, Sect Leader?"
"I thought I could break her spirit, make her bow before me. But I failed to break her. She walks around with her head held high, and it gnaws at me every moment I see her."
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A long sigh escaped him—a lamentation laced with frustration.
But both men were fighters who wouldn't give up so easily.
Gideon hadn't risen to the position of sect leader through mere chance.
And Ebon?
He was the eldest son of the Akrest Clan, once considered an afterthought by his father, the Sword Sovereign.
His father had dismissed him at every turn.
"No matter what he does, he'll never even become the greatest swordsman in Bright Peace Province, let alone the Central Plains," his father would say.
The criticism drove him mad—because it was true.
"...I feel the same way," Ebon admitted.
And Vera had felt it.
His sky was unlike anyone else's.
But it wasn't a matter of comparing commoners and emperors.
It wasn't because he lacked the qualifications to be called an emperor.
It was something fundamental, something about the very nature of his essence.
His sky was free.
Whether it was because he was the Young Lord of Akrest, protected by the Sword Sovereign, she didn't know.
But while everyone else seemed trapped under the yoke of the Akrest Clan's dominion,
he alone appeared untethered.
"...What do you think the world should be like, Young Lord?"
She asked him. It was a question driven by her heart.
Theron's eyes widened in surprise.
"That's an interesting question," he said, a grin spreading across his face.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"What the world should be like, huh..."
He chuckled, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
"You're not expecting some answer about people living by their station or role, are you?"
"I want to hear what you think, Young Lord."
"A world where no one's bound by status or rank," he said with a sly grin.
There was something reflected in his eyes—something missing.
A lack of freedom.
Seeing that, Vera tilted her head slightly.
"Curious why I'd say something like that?"
"You're the most promising figure in this martial world, aren't you?"
"Yeah, sure... But I can't do anything else."
The Young Lord of Akrest.
The Akrest Clan's genius.
The Sword Sovereign's successor.
The future clan leader.
Too many titles clung to him like shackles.
Theron was not just Theron.
He could never simply be himself.
He was the least free of them all.
"...I think I understand," Vera said softly.
She thought of his carefree demeanor and the way he acted on a whim. It all made sense now.
He was rebelling.
Against the bloodline of the Akrest Clan, the title of Young Lord, the expectations of being the Sword Sovereign's grandson...
He was screaming, "I'm just Theron!"
Looking down at her, lost in thought, Theron spoke.
"People think the higher you go, the freer you get."
"Isn't that true?"
"No. The higher up you go, the narrower it gets. There's nowhere to roam."
At seventeen, Theron was a prized ornament.
A well-born son, the heir to a reliable family, a jewel of a genius tied to an illustrious lineage.
He understood his position better than anyone.
And over time, he had made a silent deal.
He would fulfill the role of an ornament, but he would decide what kind of ornament he would be.
He would not be confined by the solemn, silent, and enigmatic title of Young Lord.
Having resolved her thoughts, Vera looked up at Theron and extended her small, pale hand.
"Heh?"
"I no longer dislike you."
"You know, I'm still going to come for you one day, right?"
"You're welcome to try anytime."
With a chuckle, Theron clasped her hand in his.