Alice's Birthday

A few months had passed since Alice received Athena's Heart, and her bond with Samael had deepened into something unshakable. The days had flowed like a gentle river, carrying them through laughter, shared secrets, and the quiet joy of companionship. Samael's birthday, celebrated three months prior on June 7th, had been a modest affair within the Forte household, filled with warmth and the presence of those who truly mattered.

Since then, the duo had become inseparable, their days spent exploring the sprawling grounds of the Forte estate or wandering the grand streets of the Royal Capital, Valhalla. Today, however, was no ordinary day. It was September 18th—Alice's birthday. As the royal princess, her celebration was destined to be a spectacle, a grand banquet that would draw the nobility of Britannia and even powerful figures from beyond the empire's borders.

Yet, Alice felt no joy at the prospect. To her, the banquet was less a celebration and more a stage for political maneuvering. The adults would exchange hollow pleasantries, their words laced with hidden agendas, while the children would flock to her side, their smiles masking ulterior motives. The entire affair felt like a masquerade, a dance of deceit where every gesture was calculated and every word a lie.

To delay the inevitable, Alice chose to travel to the palace by carriage, savoring the fleeting moments of peace before the storm. Sensing her unease, Samael sought to lift her spirits.

"Hey, Alice," he began, his voice soft yet steady, "what's your dream?"

Alice paused, her gaze drifting to the horizon as if searching for the answer in the distant clouds. "My dream," she said finally, "is for the people I love to stay safe and happy. To make sure that happens, I'll become strong—strong enough that no one can hurt them. I'll reach the Eternal Realm, the peak of this world, and protect them forever." Her voice carried a weight beyond her years, her eyes gleaming with a resolve that seemed to pierce the very fabric of reality.

Samael was silent for a moment, her words echoing in his mind like the toll of a distant bell. In his previous life and even now, he had been consumed by his passion for cooking, often overlooking the harsh truths of this world. But Alice's words struck a chord deep within him, awakening a realization he could no longer ignore: without strength, there is no freedom.

Cultivation in this world was a ladder of ascension, each step a testament to one's will and determination. It began with Tiers 1-9, the foundation upon which all else was built. Beyond that lay Transcendence, Ascendant Realm, King Realm, Sovereign Realm, Soulforge Realm Celestial Realm, Law Manifestation Realm, Great Sage Realm, Tribulation Realm, and finally, the Eternal Realm—the pinnacle of existence. Each realm was divided into nine floors, a testament to the arduous journey that awaited those who sought to rise above the masses.

The weak were but pawns in a game they could never hope to understand, their lives dictated by the whims of those who held power. Samael could not—would not—accept such a fate. From that moment forward, he vowed to cultivate with unwavering determination, to rise above the constraints of mortality and become the strongest.

"Thank you, Alice," Samael said, his voice carrying a newfound gravity. "I needed that."

"Needed what?" Alice asked, her curiosity piqued by the intensity in his tone.

"Hahaha, don't worry about it," Samael replied, his hand gently patting her head. "Happy Birthday. Don't eat too much at the party—I'm going to cook for you afterward."

"Yayyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Alice exclaimed, her earlier worries momentarily swept away by the promise of Samael's culinary magic.

The carriage carrying Alice and Samael was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, a symbol of the royal family's grandeur. It was a vision of white and gold, its wooden frame adorned with elven runes that glowed faintly, releasing wisps of wind aura to propel it forward. The four black horses that pulled it were majestic creatures, their ebony coats gleaming like polished obsidian. Their powerful muscles rippled with every stride, yet they moved with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly.

At the front of the carriage was the emblem of the royal family, a striking depiction forged from black iron. It portrayed a mysterious figure standing amidst the heavens, his gaze fixed upon the countless races below. His expression was one of disdain, his very presence radiating an aura of majesty and dominion. He wore a crown upon his brow, and in his hand, he held an egg-shaped object—a symbol of the world itself.

Beneath the figure was the name Brego, the surname of one of the most formidable families in existence. And below that, an inscription:

"We are the Brego Family, founders of Britannia. All races shall bow before us, the true rulers of this world."

As the carriage glided through the streets of Valhalla, it drew the eyes of all who beheld it. The grandeur of the royal family was undeniable, a reminder of their power and the legacy they carried. But for Alice and Samael, it was more than just a symbol of authority—it was a call to rise above, to forge their own destinies in a world that demanded strength and resilience.

The journey to the palace was more than a physical passage; it was the beginning of a profound transformation. For Alice, it was a step toward her dream of becoming a protector. For Samael, it was the awakening of a resolve to transcend the limits of mortality. Together, they would carve their names into the annals of history, their bond a beacon of light in a world shrouded in shadows.