Chapter 10: A Blade for Battle

Leonis stood in front of his father's chamber doors, his mind racing with thoughts of the upcoming campaign. The growing demonic forces in the eastern region, along with the relentless orc and goblin invasions, had become a major threat. As the eldest prince, it was time for him to take part in the empire's defense — to prove himself not just in training, but in battle.

He needed a sword worthy of that task. A sword sharp enough and strong enough to withstand the trials ahead. His father, Emperor Valerian, had strong connections across many races, including the dwarves, known for their mastery of crafting unparalleled weapons. If anyone could provide him with such a weapon, it would be his father.

Taking a deep breath, Leonis knocked on the door.

"Enter," came the deep, commanding voice of Emperor Valerian from inside.

Leonis pushed the doors open, stepping into the grand chamber. His father stood near the window, his back turned as he gazed out at the empire. The room was dimly lit, the early morning sunlight casting a soft glow on the marble floors.

"Father," Leonis began, his voice steady though his heart pounded in his chest. "I've come to speak about the campaign in the eastern region. The demonic forces are growing, and the orc and goblin invaders are relentless. I wish to lead the troops, but I require a proper weapon for the task."

Emperor Valerian turned slowly, his sharp, emerald eyes meeting Leonis's. For a moment, there was silence, the tension in the room palpable.

"You wish to lead?" Valerian's voice was low, but there was an edge to it, a question of whether his eldest son was truly ready. "The orcs and goblins are no mere rabble, and the demonic forces… they are far more dangerous than you can imagine."

Leonis straightened his posture, his gaze unwavering. "I've reached the 4th mana circle in swordsmanship, father. I'm ready."

Valerian's eyes flickered with surprise for a brief second, but his expression remained stoic. "The 4th circle, you say?" His hand rested on the hilt of his own sword, the legendary weapon forged by the finest dwarven blacksmiths centuries ago. "Impressive… but reaching the 4th circle and facing demonic forces are two very different things."

Leonis didn't falter. He knew this was a test, and he wouldn't fail. "I understand the risks. But I need to prove myself, not just to you, but to the empire."

Valerian studied his son for a long moment before finally nodding. "Very well. If you are to fight, you will need a weapon worthy of a prince, not the chipped sword you've been training with."

Leonis's heart leaped at those words. His father was acknowledging him.

Valerian walked over to a large chest in the corner of the room. With a slow, deliberate motion, he opened it, revealing a sword wrapped in dark, luxurious cloth. He lifted it carefully, the weapon gleaming even in the dim light of the room.

"This sword," Valerian said, "was crafted by the finest dwarven blacksmiths, using a rare metal found only in the mountains of the north. It will serve you well until i contact the dwarves to craft you your own personal weapon"

He handed the sword to Leonis, who took it with reverence. As he unwrapped the cloth, he saw the gleaming blade — perfectly balanced, with intricate runes etched along its length. The hilt was made of dark iron, fitted with a leather grip that molded perfectly to his hand. It was a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

"Thank you, father," Leonis said, bowing his head slightly in respect. "I won't disappoint you."

Valerian's gaze softened ever so slightly. "Do not think of it as a gift, but as a tool. Your true test is yet to come. The demonic forces are unlike anything you've faced, and the orcs and goblins… they will be brutal. But if you fight with your mind as much as your sword, you may survive."

Leonis nodded. "I understand."

"And remember," Valerian continued, his voice stern, "this war is not just about glory or power. The empire's future depends on it. Do not take it lightly."

Leonis gripped the sword tightly, feeling its weight in his hand. He knew what was at stake — not just his own reputation, but the safety of the entire empire. The demons and the orc invaders would not wait. The war was coming, and now, he had the weapon to face it.

As he left the chamber, sword in hand, Leonis felt a surge of determination. The time to prove himself was near.