The interior of the palace looked absolutely magisterial. The curved roof offered the masons and painters a grand open place to demonstrate their abundant creativity, colouring the cemented stones with ravishing tinctures and sceneries of mythologies. People heeled with glossy spears standing at the middle of the painting, adorned with a pair of white wings on their back to take them to the skies. Challenging the clouds, confronting the wind, their legacy was drawn here, battling against the source of a noisome force, a legion of hellish invaders.

Meanwhile, the grandiose pillars supporting such a masterwork were standing tall, each of them sustaining the existence of an open balcony, where members of the nobility stood in order to attend the holy ceremony of knighting a new head. The lower floor was left denied to the uncalled citizens, leaving only the most sacred guards standing in a cohesive wall inside the hall to welcome the young person.

He already learnt of all the manners, and the course of the ceremony. But the difference between hearing about it and enduring it was as clear as heaven and earth. Gulping here sounded rude from him, making himself refraining from doing it in front of the tense audience watching every of this moves. The heaviness of their eyes was wearing him more and more, like a last judgment that could decide the entirety of your small destiny.

Yet, his was a grand destiny.

Slowly advancing through the large corridor, his footsteps resounded across the place. Nobody dared to move, it looked like they all were blocking their breath just to behold the wholeness of the day. As discreetly as possible, he turned his eyes to the right, then to the left, just to fulfil this little curiosity to look at what anyone would call a statue, while it truly was a living thing. Clad in the purest armour, holding the most blessed spears of legend, the angels stood motionless, the helmet covering their head turning them into emotionless wardens.

Then, at the end of the red carpet, sitting on a glorious throne of marble, another statue was waiting. His armour was made of the same metal from the other guardians, yet you could easily feel the difference in mightiness only by the appearance. His pose proved the strength of his authority and of his influence, only making it harder for the man to approach him any further. Not knowing if the distance was adequate, he still decided to kneel from there, not daring to make any more step toward the saintly six-winged seraphim.

He kneeled, and waited, because that was how the ceremony was supposed to proceed. However, seconds felt like an eternity, as there was no sound to serve as a landmark to know how much time has flew. Unable to see anything else but the ground, he was unable to know if everything was alright, if anything was wrong. But he dared not to raise his head, because he still wasn't ordered by His Holiness.

Finally, a small clamour came from the throne, the bending and clattering of the steel against the steel. The king rose from his place, extending his wings and arms as if he wanted to welcome the world in his embrace. Every one again held their breath, preparing themselves to hear the voice of their liege.

"Arise, honoured chosen one."

There was no hesitation, but there was no haste either. There was no fear, except from failing or disappointing this greater being. The man stood there, weaponless, but not clueless. His determination was obvious from this stare, but insufficient to impress the seraphim who looked at him in a mysterious way. There was no way to know what face he was making behind the covering crown, you could only hope he was satisfied by the offered sight.

"I have given you two choice: first, was to return to your place, and live as any citizen would live his life in my kingdom."

Reminiscing the past now, the man remembered too. He lived a simple memory of a soldier, but one day discovered that he was somehow gifted with a great blessing. People learning of his trait designated him as a chosen one, and today led him to this place in order to receive the last blessing of his pilgrimage.

Deeds after deeds, he quickly rose as an Adamantium adventurer, people branding his name as a legendary figurehead. Yesterday, after arriving at this place, he was given two choice from the seraphim. First, was to end his story, and receive the proper reward he was deserving for long ago. Second, was to accept his proposal.

"But you decided to accept my benediction, and this makes me more than delighted."

Pride flooded inside his chest, earnestly smiling from inside as he heard the words of its king.

"Now come. Come and accept my grace, the [Grace of the Seraphim]."

A warm light enveloped his body, turning him frothy, serene, yet confident and powerful. The effect lasted only a small amount of time, however he felt that something bigger grew inside his very soul, granting him an incomparable strength.

"And this, is your new [Holy Sword]."

Following his words, a radiant blur, forming the shape of a sword, wafted next to him. He took the grip in his hand, before offering the blade to royalty, just in concordance with the ceremony.

"You are the Hero that will save this world, now. Your duty is to purge the Evils that surfaced, and threatens to shatter our peace. The four sinful Bringer of Calamities: the Mind Tormentor Hizuk, the Sleeping Maiden Prolita, the Sorcerer King Momonga, and the Devourer of Eras Netere."