ᴡᴍᴍᴀᴘ: ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

What daughter? I have none to my name.

CW/TW: gore, canon-typical violence, death. 

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Resounding Heavens

Claude swiped his hand through the air and managed to re-direct the foul magic towards him instead of Athanasia, and there was a voice in his head before everything went black. 

"You decided to give your life for hers, but what do you choose? Death? Or perhaps something more trivial- all your memories of your daughter?"

Claude grimaced and of course, he had to live, otherwise, how would he protect Athanasia otherwise? 

He could find his memories again- he wasn't called the strongest for nothing- and worst possible scenario, he could remake the memories from Felix or even from Athanasia using a memory gem. 

But- he had to live in order to do all that. So Claude de Alger Obelia surrendered himself to the magic, and shut himself out from Athanasia's life.

There was that girl again, the one who has his mana inside him. Claude gritted his teeth, how did that bitch manage to get a hold of the one thing I can call my own? 

His killing intent surges inside him, bloodlust raging forward towards that girl. Then he calms himself, stalking towards the blonde head facing the roses.

They face each other, two pairs of the same magnetic jeweled cerulean eyes that make the bloodline of the Obelian empire. 

Claude couldn't hear anything, couldn't see anything but that face-that annoying face that had agonized visions through his few days awake. 

A prick of magic stuns him in his tracks, a thin line of blood forming on his cheek. His own magic dared to turn against the owner to protect this thing in front of him? Very well. He'd take back this magic of his, and replace it with death.

Golden circles of magic arc around the girl, symbols striking against each other, swirling in the rhythm of protection for which they were placed upon. Claude narrowed his eyes at the strength, he had actually placed the highest amount of protection for this annoyance? 

It wasn't just one in front of her, they shielded her at all sides, invisible until he had let go of the calm and unleashed the storm inside. 

The magic slashed at his fingers, trying to prevent him from breaking through the shields that were still holding firm against his piercing grasp. The magic must have an upgrade system intact, because they form double layers of symbols, matching with each other to create a wall against Claude's fury.

And yet, in all this, the girl never cried out. Neither for her life, for mercy, for anything. She stood still, as if placed there by someone, the same jeweled eyes as him, staring right at him, unabashedly full of sorrow. 

Claude couldn't understand why he had spared her life that time in the throne room, perhaps for the spectators? No. 

That wasn't it.

Something- something in his head had held him back from doing so. In the past, he hadn't spared the eyes of the people, if he had so wished, he had killed in front of them, showing off body parts, or heads floating in the air with a pool of blood accompanying them.