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A figure hastened across the pale, white marble hall. Drenched in a robe, he passed under the hanging lamps emitting faint bluish light and shifted his weight across the azure rugs that lined the corridor from one end to the other. His long, hip length, black hair in a bead of sweat and his pale dark eyes squinted above dark circles.

The cry of a child rung in his ears, echoing amidst the winding hallways of the royal castle of Albion. Fraz Cass quickened his pace as his pure white robe fluttered, the clicks of his shoe drowned out by the soft material beneath him.

If it were not for his devotion to Goddess Gaia, he feared he would curse the heavens in the name of whoever designed this castle. He was a mage, allotting himself the personal light Magus of the Royal Family, how was he to navigate this huge mansion in haste at the behest of the King?

He shook his head from mindless notions, rather focusing upon his goal. It didn't take much longer for him to reach the end of the hall and stop before a particular brass, wooden, door more akin to a gate etched into marble walls.

Two individuals stood, guarding each side of the doorway in quiet stillness. Dressed in white attire, their figures hidden beneath blue cloaks, with the emblem of an azure phoenix upon their collars. They wore the colors and equipment of the royal guards of Albion, neither to be told apart as female nor male, their expressions hidden under plain, jade white masks that held no holes. Not a trace of skin could be seen. Not a visage of their armaments was available for the outside world to scrutinize. Indeed, all was hidden.

His breath left him. Although he couldn't see any eyes staring, he still felt as if two piercing gazes were suffocating his person.

'I've been here for almost two years and I still shiver in their presence,' Fraz couldn't help but shudder silently.

He took a deep breath. To only fear the Devil at Hade's gate was much too late.

"Fraz Cass, by order of the King, I am to check the Sacred Text of the newborn," His voice was calm, direct, but not degrading. Even as a Royal Mage, the royal guards held the same status and importance as himself.

The air stilled as he awaited a response.

Their white masks merely stared. He wasn't the least bit sure if they were glancing at his figure or simply looking into a void. They were so still that it might appear they had frozen in time. In fact, Fraz was afraid the two may have just turned to stone. They seemed ethereal, as if...

'White Shadows.'

He couldn't help but gulp at the name most chose to call them. A shiver ran down his spine and he unknowingly wiped his sweating hands on his robe. He could almost feel the touch of their cold blades resting against his neck, ready to draw his blood at any moment he chose to step out of line. But, Fraz Cass was not a brave man.

The Royal Guards of the kingdom of Albion. Personally trained from young with very few chosen from those found worthy among the populace. Some inspired to be them. Ohers dreaded their every being. He was of the latter camp.

The two guards stretched their arms, their gloved hands pushing open the door.

"You may enter."

They spoke in unison.

Their voices resounding with eeriness, mixing and grinding into one, filling the space and drilling into his ears. Like scraping rusting iron together with another, these were voices that could drive one mad if listened to for too long.

The mage hurriedly paced by the two silent guards. If God so helped him, he inspired to never stand in their presence for more than necessary.

The door closed.

A woman laid upon a large white bed, her glittering blonde hair cascading onto white sheets as her emerald eyes looked warmly at the newborn wrapped in her arms.

A man stood at her side, holding the same warmth. His robust body overshadowed both the woman and child, yet, even with his spiked red hair and a full beard adding to the beastly aura surrounding his person, he looked not one bit out of place with that large smile of his.

By his side stood a boy of shoulder length dirty-blonde hair and azure eyes revealed through bangs. He smiled, then looked down at the figure he was currently lifting up.

"Arthur, this is your little sister. You have to protect her above all, understood?" He slowly spoke, doing his best to raise the boy to glance at the baby.

The two-year-old boy in his arms tilted his head. His ruffled red hair matching his father's well as his ruby eyes peered in curiosity at the newborn in his mother's arms. Finally, a smile drew on his lips as he giggled at a thought only he knew of.

He nodded energetically, looking up to meet pale blue eyes, "Big brother, I understand!"

A chuckle rang.

Fraz turned his head right-way and immediately found his nervousness returning. His heart dropped to the point that he feared they may fall onto the floor.

"That's the spirit," There stood a short girl, her arms folded across her chest as she leaned her back against the wall.

"Ms...Shin?" He asked carefully towards the figure, "What are you doing here?"

Her dark lavender hair hung in a ponytail behind her. Her purple eyes merely watched the occupants of the room in placid temperament, "Why should my being here be of concern to you, Fraz? Should you not hurry towards your job before the child disappears from their stares?"

"Right away!" He bowed before returning to stand attentive, his back as straight as a pole as he resumed his walk, momentarily surprised she was even aware of his name.

An aura of content lifted his steps. He was proud, accomplished at his current status. He thought the long climb worthy if even this figure knew his name.

Yet, a silent whisper squirmed into his ears, "Do not forget...You live only in regards to serve the Royal Family. Your following of the church should only ever come at the benefit of the family."

Fraz Cass narrowly had the timing to turn his head and see a single flicker of a shadow disappear.

'The Throne's Guard...' He placed a hand upon his heart, a faint notion that she had already marked him long before he was ever aware. Marked him to be slaughtered like a lamb if anything were to ever come of his fears.

The king drew his attention with a finger, "Show us her Sacred Text."

The mage quickly nodded, removing himself from the thought of the girl and from his duel status as a priest, "Right away, your majesty."

"Handle her carefully," The queen gingerly handed him the new born child.

He nodded, "I'll make sure of that."

He took a moment to admire the sensation of holding a newborn; the small creature looking fearlessly around in curiosity, the small weight added to his hands, and the warmth protruding even through the towels wrapped around it. He pricked his thumb lightly onto her forehead, watching warmly as the baby squirmed, reaching for that finger of his.

'Who is this?' The newborn asked itself.

"I'm just a vessel of your power. Goddess Gaea, please grant me the divine right to view this [Iman]'s Sacred Text." A faint light wallowed out of his finger and into her skull as Fraz chanted.

Words of white floated abruptly into the air, dancing, just above the baby's small frame.

'Huh?' He thought, continuing to glance downwards together with those within the room.

"..."

[Name: N/A

Strength: A

Speed: A

Mana: A

Skills: <None Visible>

Overall: A+]

The room descended into silence. The adults and also the blonde boy, swallowed their saliva while the small child with red hair tilted his head in curiosity.

"Abraham...is this our daughter?" The woman asked.

This was not the Sacred Text a baby should hold. In fact, many grown adults around the world would be hard pressed to even go beyond the C rank in any of their own plates.

"Don't joke around, Martha, this is most definitely my daughter!" The man answered with a nod after a momentary silence.

"What do you mean 'my daughter'? Are you forgetting the one who pushed her out?" Martha snapped back in a sneer.

"Hmm...that's not...anyway we have a more pressing issue at hand," Abraham regained his composure after a small fit of 'coughing'.

"Oh? What is it?" She questioned."

"My daughter's overall ranking is the same as mine!" The king spoke his thoughts.

"Is this how a king should act, Abraham? Did I accidentally marry a bum off the streets?" Martha asked.

"What do you mean? Have you ever saw a father who just barely has the same strength as his own daughter? Not only that, she still has room to develop. They say everyone can break the limit of their potential by at least two ranks! Two ranks! How am I supposed to protect her in the future? Would I not be hiding behind her instead to escape from you?

"What do you mean escape from me?" Martha narrowed her eyes.

"..." Abraham.

"Tell me, Abraham, why would you need to escape from me? It can't be that you no longer love your own wife, right?"

The priest by the side still had his mouth hung open. He was astonished by both the argument of this royal couple and the Sacred Text of this child. This was the first time he had encountered such a situation.

The blonde haired male could only smile gently as the child in his arms arched its neck to read the texts that seemed all but mystical to him.

However, the subject of the doubts, the baby, was quite confused.

'What's all this talk about a Sacred Text?' It asked itself.

At this thought, its eyes glowed a faint gold as a white window appeared for it to see.

[Name: N/A

Strength: A

Speed: A

Mana: A

Skills: Ruler's Soul (U) Forever A Crimson Blade (U)

Overall: A+]

[Ruler's Soul: Wherever your path takes you, you are bound to rule. Every step you take creates a legend. A ruler of the battlefield, forever you are.

<Racial Talent> Able to see the Sacred Text of a living being that is of the same race as yourself.

<Ruler's Path> Your eyes blaze a golden light, you are able to see through the hidden and mysterious concepts of the world.

<My Own Will> Grants immunity to all mind or emotional altering effects.]

[Forever a Crimson Blade: Some born Kings, some peasants. Some born farmers, some warriors. Some born a fool, some a genius. Some born to peace, some to battle. Some born to paradise, some to purgatory. Yet, none as cursed a fate as the Blade.

<Radiant Blade> Call upon a blade crafted from the very essence of your soul. Holding within is the ability to draw out the full extent of holy attributed mana. Its control is within your hands.

Even when shattered, a blade is not merely a sword to be swung. May your broken fate shine eternal.]

'Oh?' It glanced at this new visual, which moved with its vision whenever it bob its head, in the absurd curiosity only a child could have.

The newborn finally smiled, its face brightening into a beautifully joyous smile.

Yet, its actions brought back the warm smiles of its surroundings.

Smiling, Fraz thought to himself, 'No really...isn't this baby scary? Which monsterful beast birthed this broken baby?'

"Hmm," For some reason, Martha Springfield felt as if she was just insulted.

"Abraham...are you thinking rudely of me?" She asked her husband, as she took the baby back into her arms.

'How does she know!?!' Abraham momentarily screamed in his head.

"No," He quickly regained the composure of a king, "Just the happy little thoughts of a wonderful family."

The Queen scoffed, "You're sleeping on the floor today."

Abraham's tears streamed down his face.

"..." Fraz.

'No wonder the child is scary, the mother's scary too...' The priest couldn't help but think.

"Do you want it to be for two days, Abraham?" Martha suddenly asked.

"No! One is enough!" Abraham defended himself, now cursing the nine generations and ancestors of whichever person was activating his wife's senses. He at least wished to be in on it too if he was to take the blame!

'Is this really the Royal Family..?' Fraz Cass had his own hidden thoughts.