Chapter 8

Turning my attention to Kaelis, I addressed him with a calm but firm voice.

“Kaelis, as per the introduction, you have chosen to stand beside your elder brother, shielding him with your body magic. That is a noble goal, one worthy of great strength. I believe this next gift is meant for you.”

With that, I summoned the Roman Shield of Eonwood, a creation forged during my trials in the testing grounds. I presented it to Kaelis with both hands.

As before, he followed the same ritual, pressing the shield against his forehead. A wave of energy pulsed through the hall, and the transformation began.

Unlike the previous gifts, this one did not radiate blinding light. Instead, a deep darkness spread across the shield’s surface, swallowing the reflections of the room as if it were consuming the very light around it. The once simple wood fused with Voidsteel, a legendary dark metal known for its absolute resistance to magic attacks.

Gasps echoed throughout the hall. Voidsteel was a substance of myths—said to deflect any and all magic, leaving no trace of an attack behind.

Kaelis’ grip tightened around the shield’s handle as he ran his hand over its newly reforged surface, his eyes filled with disbelief.

“This ... this is incredible.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the reverence in his tone was unmistakable.

The room fell into a hushed silence as the weight of the revelation settled over everyone. An impenetrable shield—one that could stand against any magic or a physical attack.

Regaining his composure, Kaelis bowed deeply. “I cannot thank you enough for this gift.” His voice carried genuine gratitude, and with one final nod, he returned to his seat, still marvelling at his newfound weapon.

Now, my eyes shifted to Princess Lyra, the fourth child and second princess.

“Princess Lyra,” I spoke, my voice steady, “as per your introduction, you aspire to become the greatest alchemist this world has ever known. That is an admirable dream. To aid you in your journey, I present you with this.”

From my dimensional storage, I summoned a small leather bag, carefully tied with golden thread. Though it appeared unassuming, its contents were anything but ordinary.

“This is a bag of seeds,” I explained as I handed it to her. “It contains the seeds of rare and legendary herbs, including Moon Petal Blossom and Ember Leaf, as well as the seeds of many exotic fruits found only in the most secluded regions.”

For a moment, Lyra froze, her hands hovering just above the bag. She hesitated, her gaze flickering toward her father.

Upon seeing the king’s nod of approval, her entire face lit up.

Without another thought, she sprang to her feet, ran straight to her father, and threw her arms around him.

“Thank you, Father! Thank you for allowing me to follow my dreams!” she cried, her voice trembling with emotion.

The king’s usually composed expression softened as he patted her head gently, whispering words only she could hear.

After a moment, she turned back to me, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. With a deep, respectful bow, she said, “Thank you. This means more to me than I can ever express.”

I gave her a reassuring nod, watching as she clutched the bag close to her chest.

Unable to contain her excitement, Lyra ran to her elder sister, Selene, and hugged her tightly.

“Sister, I finally got permission to be an alchemist!” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Selene smiled warmly, gently patting Lyra’s back before leaning in to whisper something into her ear.

Whatever she said made Lyra nod vigorously. She wiped her tears with a delicate handkerchief, taking her seat once more—this time, with an unshakable determination in her eyes.

Then, my gaze shifted toward the fifth child, the third prince, Damian, an eager boy of eleven years. His wide eyes shimmered with excitement as he awaited his turn.

“Prince Damian,” I said, my tone warm yet firm, “as per the introduction, you wish to become a great adventurer. Is that correct?”

Straightening his back, he responded immediately, “Yes, sir!” His voice was filled with youthful determination.

With a small nod, I summoned a spatial ring and extended it toward him. The ring gleamed in the soft candlelight, its silver band adorned with faint etchings of interwoven runes.

Damian took it carefully, his fingers tracing its surface in awe. Though his excitement was evident, he managed to contain himself, holding onto the ring as though it was the greatest treasure he had ever received.

He bowed respectfully. “Thank you. I will make good use of this.”

I gave him an approving nod before shifting my attention to the youngest of the royal children.

The last, but certainly not the least, was the sixth child—the third princess, Isla, a bright-eyed girl of only eight years.