Chapter 79: The Lady's Sword

(Chapter 79 The Lady's Sword)

In Neuvillette's office, Furina and Tempest were deeply engrossed in a lively conversation. Tempest recounted his experiences in the desert, describing how the relentless sands had made him grow to despise them. He conveniently left out the part where he met Nahida, focusing instead on the harshness of the environment. Furina listened intently, occasionally bursting into laughter at his growing hatred for the sands. She happily indulged in the ice cream cake he had brought for her. Meanwhile, Neuvillette sat quietly at his desk, sifting through a stack of paperwork. It seemed that both Furina and Tempest had completely forgotten about his presence in the room.

"You know, Tempest. I had this strangest dream last week, one where you appeared, but then vanished in the blink of an eye. Quite peculiar, wouldn't you say?"

Furina spoke with a hint of whimsicality and a touch of mystery in her tone.

"Really? What was it like, My Lady?"

Tempest asked, his curiosity piqued. He wondered if it could be the same dream where he and Nahida had accidentally stumbled into her subconscious.

"Mm, I accidentally fell asleep on my desk instead of my bed, you know. Archon duties can be quite tiring. In my dream, I was in my room, on the same desk I fell asleep in. The door to my room opened, and you came in, you reached your hand out, and then you just disappeared. It was certainly strange, don't you think?"

Furina chuckled softly, her voice carried a hint of lightness and a touch of tiredness.

'It wasn't just the exhaustion from your Archon duties; it seemed like something far deeper...'

Tempest thought to himself. He couldn't shake the image of her in that dream, looking so utterly desperate. A sense of worry gnawed at him, the memory of her distress lingering in his mind like a shadow that refused to dissipate.

"Interesting, isn't it? I wonder what your appearance in my dream could possibly mean."

Furina's voice held a sense of curiosity and a hint of wonder as she pondered.

"Mm, perhaps to offer you moral support, My Lady?"

Tempest suggested with a gentle smile. Though he couldn't directly press her to reveal what was troubling her, he wanted to convey that he was always at her service, ready to support her whenever she needed.

Furina's eyes widened slightly, her surprise was evident for just a moment before her expression softened into a genuine smile.

"I would have needed that, Tempest."

She admitted, her voice carrying a hint of gratitude.

*Knock knock*

"Monsieur Neuvillette, the trial is about to begin."

Sedene announced as she entered the office.

"Very well, Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette inquired, standing up from his seat and turning to her. His gaze was steady, signaling whether she would be joining him or not.

"Yes, yes, I'm coming. Tempest, do you have time to join us for this trial? It's sure to be quite a thrilling experience."

Furina said, turning to Tempest with a gleam of excitement in her eyes.

"Of course, My Lady."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

On the Opera Epiclese, Furina, Tempest, and Neuvillette made their way inside. The grand seats were still empty, but it wouldn't be long before they filled up. Furina graciously offered Tempest a place beside her at the top, and he accepted without hesitation. The case at hand involved a man who had seized control of a village once governed by his Father. Under his rule, the village had been transformed into a hideout for criminals, with the residents suffering under exorbitant taxes.

"This story sounds familiar. I suppose the son has become the villain now."

Tempest remarked as he reviewed the papers on the accused. Furina couldn't help but chuckle softly at his observation.

Soon, the many seats in the opera house began to fill, and the trial commenced. The proceedings unfolded swiftly as the overwhelming evidence quickly cornered the accused. The crowd's initial excitement turned to disappointment as the trial concluded more quickly than anticipated. However, Furina's presence captured the audience's attention more than the trial itself. She laughed heartily at the accused's misfortune and scolded him with a fervor that left a stronger impression than the trial. Her dramatic judgment added a theatrical flair, captivating the audience and leaving them thoroughly entertained.

'She's quite enjoying this... I'm glad she didn't treat me like that during my trial.'

Tempest thought to himself. A small smile crept onto his face as he observed Furina, who was clearly reveling in the moment. Her laughter and scolding of the accused contrasted sharply with the gravity of the proceedings, making it evident that she found great amusement in the trial. Tempest's eyes softened as he took in the sight of her unrestrained enjoyment, feeling a sense of relief and contentment that he had been spared such a display during his own trial.

"This is ridiculous! You treat me like nothing more than a spectacle! Is this a trial or a farce? I am a human being, not some court jester for your amusement!"

His voice echoed through the grand hall of the Opera Epiclese. He gritted his teeth in anger, his eyes blazing with defiance as he pointed an accusatory finger toward Furina, who sat poised at the top.

Furina continued to watch him, her expression a mixture of amusement and disdain, while the crowd murmured in anticipation. The man's frustration reached its peak as he shouted.

"Enough of your laughter and mockery! If you're so confident in your judgment, then prove it! I demand a duel!"

The hall fell into stunned silence at his audacious challenge. His eyes flicked to Tempest for a brief moment, as if to gauge the reaction of the Duke who sat beside Furina. He then returned his gaze to the Hydro Archon, his posture tense and defiant.

"Very well, then!"

Furina exclaimed, her voice carrying an almost playful tone as she leaned forward in her seat. Her eyes gleamed with a mix of excitement and mischief.

"Tempest~"

She called his name with a lilting cadence, clearly relishing the unfolding drama. With a graceful commanding motion, she clapped her hands twice, the sound echoing through the grand hall. It was both a signal and a decree.

"I shall be your sword, My Lady."

Tempest declared, his voice steady and unwavering. Rising from his seat beside Furina, his expression remained stoic, betraying none of the anticipation brewing in the air.

Reaching the edge of the stage, Tempest extended a hand to one of the Champion Duelists stationed nearby. Without a word, the duelist handed over his sword.

Tempest walked toward the stage with a calm, predatory grace, his gaze fixed on the accused. The man, who moments earlier had boldly demanded a duel, now visibly trembled. His bravado faltered under Tempest's cold, unwavering stare, and he involuntarily took a step back, the courage that had fueled his outburst now wavering in the face of the reality before him.

"The request for a duel is approved."

Neuvillette announced, his voice carrying a sense of finality that echoed through the Opera Epiclese. The accused turned to face him, his earlier bravado replaced by a look of sheer panic. He opened his mouth, in a desperate attempt to backtrack on his impulsive decision.

"I-"

"This decision is irreversible."

Neuvillette interjected smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"You dare to point your finger to the Archon with this display? You either die by my sword today or rot forever in the Fortress of Meropide."

Tempest's voice rang out, cold and authoritative, resonating throughout the hall. His gaze bore into the accused, whose bravado had crumbled into visible fear.

With those words, Tempest allowed the sword to fall to the ground with a heavy thud, the sound echoing ominously in the silence that followed.

"Pick it up."

Tempest commanded, his voice unwavering and calm, yet carrying a chilling intensity that cut through the air like a blade. The accused hesitated, staring at the sword lying on the ground as if it were a venomous snake. Tempest kicked the sword, sending it sliding across the floor until it came to rest directly at the accused's boots.

Tempest's gaze hardened, his words growing colder, more deliberate.

"Pick. It. Up."

Each syllable was a warning, a final call to action.

The audience watched in silence, the tension in the air palpable. The accused, shaking visibly, hesitated, his eyes filled with regret and terror as he realized the magnitude of the challenge he'd foolishly issued.

Finally, with no options left and fear written across his face, the accused grasped the sword's hilt. In a desperate attempt to take control of his fate, he charged at Tempest with a wild, reckless cry.

"Raaah!"

He lunged forward, his movements fueled by adrenaline and despair. Yet, Tempest remained utterly composed, his expression unchanging. He waited, calculating the perfect moment. As the accused came within striking distance, Tempest moved with fluid precision. In one swift motion, he unsheathed his own sword, which immediately ignited with golden flames that danced along the blade's edge.

The two weapons clashed in a flash of sparks, but Tempest's blade was unyielding. The accused's sword shattered on impact, fragments scattering across the stage like shards of glass. The force of the blow sent the accused stumbling backward, his eyes wide with shock and fear.

Tempest advanced steadily toward the accused, his sword's blade still blazing with golden flames. The intense heat radiated from the weapon, casting an ominous glow over the stage.

"I yield! I yield!"

The accused cried out, his voice trembling and filled with desperation. He curled his body defensively, lowering his head in a submissive posture. His entire frame shook with fear, the bravado he once displayed now completely dissolved under Tempest's unwavering gaze.

"Hmph."

Tempest remarked dismissively as he sheathed his sword. The blade's golden flames extinguished with a soft hiss as it was returned to its scabbard. Without further ado, the Gardes stepped forward, swiftly and efficiently escorting the defeated accused off the stage.

The crowd erupted in applause, their cheers and claps echoing through the grand hall in appreciation of Tempest's decisive victory. Tempest, maintaining his composed demeanor, offered a bow in acknowledgment of their admiration. With a dignified stride, he made his way back up to the top of the opera house, returning to Furina's side.

"You were exceptional, that was quite a show! Well done."

Furina said with a bright smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"It was an honor to be given this opportunity by you, My Lady."

Tempest replied with a warm smile, his gaze steady and respectful.

"Ah, but of course! As a token of gratitude for your victory, Tempest, I shall grant you a favor. Consider it a privilege to have the favor of the almighty Hydro Archon, me! So, what is your wish?"

Furina's voice held a hint of playfulness and mild generosity, a slight smile on her lips as she offered him a favor from her.

Tempest contemplated for a while, before giving her his answer.

"Then... I would be honored if you would attend my birthday celebration, My Lady."