The Bigshot's Superstar Wife - Chapter 66

Chapter 66: Strength of Ancients

The morning light filtered through the grand windows of the dining hall as Athena and Mors quietly ate their breakfast.

The lingering mystery of their awakening still weighed heavily on their minds, yet they knew that whatever answers they sought would not come without effort.

The scent of fresh bread and rich spices filled the air, but neither of them could fully savor the meal.

Their thoughts were consumed by the portrait they had seen earlier, by the unfamiliar yet strangely familiar world they had found themselves in.

Mors set his cup down and glanced at Athena, who had barely touched her food. “We need to go to the Imperial Library,” he said. “I have a feeling that’s where the answers will be.”

Athena nodded, pushing her plate aside. “The swords led us here for a reason. If they have a purpose, then we must follow where they guide us.”

The two stood from their seats, adjusting their garments before making their way through the palace halls.

The corridors were adorned with paintings of past rulers and golden inscriptions written in an ancient language.

Every step they took seemed to stir the air around them as if the walls themselves whispered secrets long forgotten.

As they approached the towering doors of the Imperial Library, their swords pulsed with energy.

The grand doors, carved with intricate sigils, groaned open on their own, revealing a vast chamber lined with endless shelves of books.

In the center of the room, two books shimmered into existence, floating midair.

One was adorned in deep crimson and gold, the symbol of the empire’s crown prince etched onto its cover.

The other was wrapped in an ethereal blue glow, marked with the sacred emblem of the Saintess.

The moment Athena and Mors stepped closer, the books descended, settling gently on a marble table before them.

Athena reached out for the blue-covered book, expecting it to be hers, but as soon as her fingers brushed the surface, a surge of energy repelled her touch.

She gasped, stepping back in shock.

Mors frowned and tried to pick up the red-covered book, but the same force pushed him away. The realization dawned upon them at the same time.

“The swords have reversed our roles,” Athena murmured. “Because I wield Arthivian, I must learn the magic of the Crown Prince.”

Mors glanced down at his own sword, Elsienflora, its blade humming with warmth. “And I must master the sword techniques of the Saintess.”

It was an ironic twist, one that neither of them had anticipated. But perhaps this was the lesson the ancient weapons wanted them to understand.

Strength was not defined by rigid roles. To truly wield their power, they had to embrace both the mind and the blade.

Athena hesitated before picking up the red-covered book, this time without resistance.

She could feel the power contained within its pages, the knowledge of a warrior who had led countless battles.

She flipped to the first page, where golden letters shimmered before her eyes. The teachings of Devancier himself lay before her, each lesson etched with the weight of centuries.

Mors, in turn, grasped the blue-covered book, feeling the pulse of divine magic flowing through its pages.

The Saintess’ wisdom, her prayers, and her ability to manipulate holy energy were now his to learn.

He took a deep breath, knowing that mastering this power would require more than just physical strength.

“The swords chose us for a reason,” Athena said softly, meeting Mors’ gaze. “Perhaps this is the true test. Not just of our strength, but of our understanding.”

Mors nodded. “Then let’s not waste time. We will master these books. No matter what it takes.”

As the library doors closed behind them, the fate of their newfound path was sealed.

The library was silent except for the soft rustling of parchment as Athena and Mors sat at the long marble table, their fingers tracing over the ancient text.

The weight of the past pressed upon them, not just the knowledge contained in the books, but the realization that they were walking a path carved out by those who had come before them.

The moment they had awakened in that grand bedroom, their lives had shifted. No longer were they simply Athena and Mors.

They were wielders of the legendary swords, inheritors of a forgotten legacy.

Athena ran her fingers over the crimson and gold cover of the book before her, feeling the ancient power thrumming beneath her touch.

The book of the Crown Prince was unlike any she had ever encountered.

Instead of spells or divine prayers, it contained battle strategies, sword techniques, and, most intriguing of all, inscriptions of magic that could be used in combat.

Unlike the delicate, healing-based magic the Saintess had been trained in, this was an art designed for destruction, to empower the warrior in the heart of battle.

She flipped through the first few pages, skimming the elegant but firm handwriting.

“Power does not lie solely in the blade, but in the conviction of the one who wields it. A sword in uncertain hands is no better than a dull piece of metal. To command the battlefield, one must first command their own will.”

Athena let out a slow breath. This was different from anything she had studied before. Yet, the moment she held Arthivian, she had felt its nature, wild and filled with storm-like fury.

She had no choice but to master this knowledge, to understand the will of the sword and the man who once wielded it.

On the other side of the table, Mors was deep into the Saintess’ book, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Elsienflora’s power was unlike any blade he had encountered before. It was not just a weapon, it was an extension of divine will.

The book he studied contained prayers, incantations, and ways to harness holy energy, but what struck him most was a passage near the beginning.

“A true protector does not seek power to destroy, but power to preserve. The strongest warriors are those who can heal as fiercely as they can fight.”

Mors tightened his grip on the book.

He had spent his life mastering the sword, relying on brute strength and tactical precision, but now, for the first time, he had to approach battle differently.

To wield Elsienflora properly, he had to think not just of cutting down his enemies, but of safeguarding those he fought to protect.