Chapter 3: Constructs of The Divine

[AN]

Hey guys! So much for not uploading! I woke up today morning and checked my Webnovel notifications. It said that my fanfic got recommended on fresh stories. It lit a fire in me. I got motivated, and today being a Sunday, I spent extra time on writing and completed this chapter. Don't expect this to happen every time. When I said I wasn't gonna upload for a few days, I meant it and today was an exception since I was unusually motivated.

I put all that fire into my writing today and I'm satisfied with how it turned out. Hope you guys like it too!

Ciao!

[/AN]

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Douluo Dalu: Seraph Of Hope And Light

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Chapter 3: Constructs of The Divine

(Narrator's POV)

The Divine. That which is above the station of mortals. It is something to be admired, respected and worshipped. It is something which is beyond the reach of mortals. It is sacred. To touch upon it would mean to blaspheme it, and to touch upon it without being called out for heresy proves that it was not something that was divine- for divine denotes 'something which is above, untouchable and untainted.'

Qian Daoliu had heard much of the divine. Of course he would, he had spent much of his life chasing after that ever elusive divinity after all. He had seen the great and grand palaces of the Sea God Island, lived in a palace himself and had a bond closer to the divine than almost every other being alive on the continent.

Yet, it felt as though even 'Divinity' had lost it's appeal as he looked upon the marvel his son had called forth. It was 'beautiful-,' no, that did not do it justice. It was majestic, regal and filled with life. It was certainly something great. One could look upon it and distinguish it as something as something Divine, something out of the reach of mortals as soon as they saw it.

Qian Daoliu was filled with worry. His son's awakening had unexpected changes and he had also experienced a sudden bout of pain. Yet, he hadn't moved forth next to his son. He had 2 reasons- One, the 'Marvel' that stood before him, and Two, his son's reaction to it. He looked at his son with concern shining in his eyes. His son stood there before the 'Marvel' he had summoned, frozen, his eyes wide open, as though in shock. He seemed in disbelief.

His son's reaction suggested that he was somewhat familiar with the 'Divine' that had appeared before them, however, he couldn't recall any instance or event where Qian Xunji might have gained knowledge of anything related to this 'Marvel.' He felt that he needed to speak to his son and act on his concerns.

"Qian Xunji, it's-" He was interrupted by a chuckle. His eyes widened, while he didn't care much about being interrupted, his son's chuckle stopped him for a second. It was bitter, choked and had more than a hint of self-loathing.

"I'm pathetic, aren't I?" Qian Xunji had a grimace on his face, as though disappointed and disgusted with his actions.

Qian Daoliu's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "While that reaction was certainly somewhat exaggerated, I don't think it was enough to warrant such words from you." Even though he had said this, he knew somewhere in his mind, that this wasn't what his son was speaking of.

Qian Xunji shook his head minutely, his eyes still on the 'Marvel,' "I thought myself better, you know?... Better than most people in this world. Better than those who pillage, hurt and kill for their own profit. Better than those who seek power, than those who would do many questionable things to advance their cultivation. I had thought that my dream of a warm home, a loving family and more was something noble, something better than the dreams of others which would lead them to claim more lives... I had thought I was someone 'good' and maybe even 'kind' compared to others in this world..."

Qian Xunji paused in his rant, taking a deep breath. Qian Daoliu just stood there, listening and unmoving.

Then he chuckled- that bitter and self-deriding chuckle once more- before he spoke, "I stood at the sidelines, commenting on the cruelty of the cultivation world, and tooted my own horn, considering myself 'kinder' for not wishing anything ill upon anybody innocent. However, I am no more 'good' and 'kind' than those who took lives, aren't I?", he paused, "I sat by, silent, as those I deemed 'cruel' took lives, and I stood on the sidelines doing nothing. I have as much blood on my hands, as those who reaped those lives did. I wished for a warm home and a loving family, as others- those who couldn't cultivate, those who were 'weak'- lost theirs."

Qian Xunji chuckled once more, however, this was less bitter and self-deriding. Silent tears streamed down his face. Something had changed and Qian Daoliu had an inkling as to what it was.

He continued, "I wished to preserve a plot, a world which was as cruel- to those who were weak- as it was beautiful to those who were strong. I only thought of the tragedies which might occur to those 'important' people and their prevention, even as countless 'unimportant' others experienced many more."

Qian Xunji turned to his father for the first time, then looked down at his hands and spoke, "I now understand what the weight of the power I am capable of wielding is. The Holy Son, Supreme Pontiff and a Douluo- should I become one- these titles, they are far more heavy now that I know what they are capable of, of how many lives could be saved, of how many lives could be better, of how many tragedies could be prevented. No people- especially those who can't cultivate- will have to fear for their lives. Slavery could be abolished. People could have better lives, fuller families and they could have security, happiness, peace and... hope."

Qian Xunji turned back towards the 'Marvel,' and Qian Daoliu found himself standing just a bit straighter, anticipating and a bit worrying over the change his son would now consolidate.

"Was this what you wanted me to realize? Was this maybe your way of telling me that I had a purpose to fulfill? That I had been sent here... for this?"

Qian Xunji didn't get an answer, yet he stepped forwards towards the 'Divine Construct' all the same. He stopped about 2 feet away from it, raised his right hand towards it and spoke, "I'm a man, no, boy with flaws. I'm not perfect. I'm not sure if I can live up to your legacy, despite that, I'll try my best. It's what I do best- giving it my all. I'll shed blood, sweat and tears if I have to, to uphold your legend- this, I promise. So... I ask of you, will you- despite my flaws- allow me to wield and carry you, your name and your legend with me in this life of mine? Will you accept me?"

Qian Daoliu's eyes widened, What was his son doing?! Talking with his own Martial Spirit? What is this Martial Spirit then? His son knew a lot about this Martial Spirit it seemed. He knows his son is not one to spout nonsense. Also, those emotions, those vows and that flame of determination blazing in his eyes... His son had changed. The Sword moved. He froze in shock at the unbelievable situation in front of him.

The sword seemed similar to a Claymore. It's grip was a deep, rich blue with gold lining it's top. It smoothed out into a pommel at the bottom, the color a same dark blue, with gold lining the bottom. It's cross guard was an elegant gold, with two jagged lines carved on each side. The rain guard and bit of the fuller, had a design in the same rich blue and majestic gold. The edge and the rest of the fuller were a faint gold and just above the rain guard, there were mysterious and otherworldly characters inscribed which made it's divine nature all the more prominent.

It wasn't the most ostentatious sword, nor the most deadly looking. Yet, it was different. It was Sacred. It was holy, and to describe it as 'beautiful' would instead besmirch it's sanctity. It was splendid, majestic and more. It was superior.

Qian Daoliu watched as the sword moved, seemingly knowing where his son was. He could see his son hold his breath. He wasn't sure if it was anxiety or excitement. In his opinion, anyone would want their hands on this sword once they had laid their eyes upon it's magnificence.

The sword finally reached his son, and soon, it lowered itself into his hands. His son let out a breath, as though relieved, yet the fire of determination in his eyes had never burned brighter.

"Thank you," breathed Qian Xunji, "to be chosen to wield you... it's an honor. I will make sure that your legacy burns bright, unextinguished. I'll make sure that as long as mankind continues to dream and grow, it will always know that the light of hope is never extinguished."

"So, once again from the bottom of my heart... Thank you for choosing me... Excalibur."

His Seraphim Spirit moved. As though guided by their own wills, a large replica of Excalibur made of gold and white light appeared in it's clasped hands. He felt full. The warmth he had felt intensified. As Qian Xunji held the Legendary Sword/Noble Phantasm in his hands, he felt it's weight. The sword was heavy, but not heavy enough to be unwieldy. Especially in this world, it was not nowhere near heavy enough for it to cause trouble to it's wielders. Yet, to Qian Xunji felt it's weight all the same. This was not the Excalibur from the legends on his Earth, but from a world where it's legend meant much more. It-

"So, I assume these changes and this Spirit are things you already have knowledge about?" Qian Daoliu had walked over to him, checking his person for any hidden injuries that might have been left due to his sudden bout of pain.

Qian Xunji held the sword carefully, with both hands, as though he was handling something priceless. It almost felt as though he thought it of more value than his own life... and maybe he did, he knew of it's legends, it's legacy-

He took a deep breath to calm himself and spoke, "The pinnacle of holy swords, a Divine Construct, the strongest and most majestic holy sword- Excalibur."

He looked at his father. He was listening with rapt attention. Good, he continued, "These are titles that can be used to describe Excalibur, however, this is an oversimplification of it's significance..." He took another deep breath, "An ultimate god-forged weapon," Qian Daoliu's eyes widened, "forged by the planet as the crystallization of the wishes of mankind stored and tempered within the planet. A legend weaved purely out of hope, a crystallization of the prayer named glory, of everything in the hearts of those warriors -be they in the past, present and future- who still cling to the desire 'to be exalted' despite the adversity, hardship and despair they had suffered. It is..." Qian Daoliu held his breath, "the strongest fantasy. It is no longer a sword, but something much much more than what you and I can conceive."

Qian Daoliu stayed frozen. Telling he was blown out of his mind was making light of this situation. A crystallization of hopes and wishes. Did this not resemble a position similar to Gods? Even Gods, for all their divinities, might not be able to wield a weapon such as this. For such power to be in one person's hands, he shuddered, would be handing them a weapon whose rank surpassed even most Gods'. He clenched and unclenched his fists in a try to calm himself.

His son's reactions made much more sense now. He could also understand how and why his son had changed. He had been handed the task of wielding the hopes and wishes of mankind, of making sure it's light remained unextinguished. He had the weight of the world on his shoulders, literally. To protect those unable to protect themselves, huh? While most, and even he, would likely call such a dream as foolish, his son was nothing if not determined.

He shook his head, clearing those thoughts and looked at his son. Bright golden eyes, burning with determination stared back at him. He suddenly felt proud. To have a descendant such as Qian Xunji, to grow, to persevere and to not falter in the face of such a goal- one which was dumped on him, in fact, and would leave most others insane- was nothing short of a miracle. He had known he was mature for his age, but to handle a weight such as this? Even he couldn't guarantee his own sanity, or if he was even worthy of wielding the sword. He looked at it then.

It was strapped to his son's robes. A sword without a sheath. It had changed his son, and he was sure his son, with his new determination, would do great things. Despite his new change and ambition, he worried. Heroes and Saints never had the best of ends. It was all too easy to end a life in a world such as this. To vow to protect, was like a burden, it dragged you down. Well then, it looked like he had his work set for him. He would make sure his son would make it. After all...

He was a Limit Douluo and it would be laughable if he couldn't protect his sole heir, wouldn't it?