Page 192 of The White King's Favorite

In a timely manner, the old lady finally stopped in front of another pair of large doors. Then, she pulled out a long chain necklace from under her clothes, and quickly took one of the many keys out that were secretly hanging there. Cessilia was surprised. She had been walking three feet away from that woman for a long while, and she hadn’t suspected she was wearing a set of keys at all... This kind of necklace should have made some noise, yet somehow, there had been absolutely nothing. She exchanged a quick glance with Darsan, who was also staring at it with a confused expression. Elder Olea was probably very well respected for reasons other than her age...

She opened the large doors with that key, and suddenly, they were all blinded by the vivid colored lights that shone from within.

“Holy... By a dragon’s b–”

Darsan coughed a bit, but he couldn’t stop staring at the vision in front of them. Cessilia was just as stunned.

An armory. They were standing at the doorway of a unique and very impressive armory. There were exactly twelve sets of armor, each of a different but vibrant color, presented with twice as many matching weapons around them, and other various pieces of equipment for battle. The most impressive thing about the armor, though, wasn’t the handicraft, how well-maintained they looked, or how effective they seemed. What had blinded them upon entering the room was actually the gorgeous, shining colors of a myriad of little beads covering them. Six sets of the armor were made for women, and the other six for men, all in different sizes. They were obviously bound by metallic or leather structures, but most of the armor, shields, and weapons’ magnificent colored parts were actually made of something unlike anything they had ever seen before.

Darsan screamed like an excited child and ran right into it, immediately going for the largest sword in store, amazed. He hadn’t even blinked once since the doors had been opened.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said, a wide smile stuck across his face. “Is that a freaking dragon claw? Look at the size of that beauty!”

He grabbed the sword and held it with both hands. The blade was so thick and large that although he held it with his hands in front of his belt, the tip of the sword was higher than his head. He swung the weapon for a test trial, and the simple gush of wind that went their way spoke volumes about the destructive force of that thing, paired with Darsan’s strength.

“Several of them, actually,” said Elder Olea. “That blade was created several decades ago by our ancestors, with the claws of a deceased dragon, like everything else in this room. All of these items are sacred to our people. We have never used them, and instead, we waited for the right people to come and use them.”

“It’s amazing...” muttered Naptunie.

Cessilia thought so too. She and Naptunie had naturally approached the two sets of armor closest to them. The one in front of Cessilia was clearly made for a woman, and what she had thought to be little beads were actually very small scales of a gorgeous gray-blue color. They were obviously polished and covered with some sort of shiny varnish, but it was the perfect alignment of hundreds of small scales that truly made that armor shine like a dragon’s skin under the sun.

“Are these... s-scales from a baby d-dragon?” asked Cessilia, confused.

“Oh, no,” said Elder Olea. “They come from an adult one, but we broke them down and reshaped them so we could create them into such armor. I say we, but I really mean our ancestors, who had found the techniques to use the scales, claws, and fangs of deceased dragons to create this precious armor. Those who still lived with the heirs of the Earth Dragon, before they moved to the west to conquer the present Dragon Empire. It has been centuries since the last piece here was produced. With the dragons gone, we could only treasure and keep them here. Our ancestors believed that there would come a day like this, when the true Dragon Masters would come back and need our help. I doubt they believed it would unfold in such a way, but the day has come indeed.”

“Why didn’t you use them for yourself?” asked Nana.

“Try to carry one,” chuckled Aglithia.

Nana frowned, a bit confused, but she tried to grab a piece that seemed to be an arm guard. Immediately, her expression changed, and she dropped the thing right away.

“It’s so heavy!”

“It is. Only someone as strong as a Dragon Master has the strength to carry such a weapon or piece of armor. Of course, our people could have done it too with a lot of training, but since there are so few of them, we chose to keep them for when the Dragon Masters would truly need it, and not risk damaging the precious, priceless pieces ourselves.”

“So... everything in here are weapons your ancestors m-made?”

“Yes, Princess Cessilia. All of it is here, in this room. It may not be much, but in times of war, this–”

“This is awesome!” suddenly shouted Darsan.

Right as they turned to look, they heard a terrible ruckus. Naptunie even jumped behind Cessilia, protecting her ears and hiding a bit. Cessilia, though, who was more used to this, sighed and looked at the mess.

Darsan was standing there with his eyes open wide, the sword still in his hands, and a pile of collapsed weapons, shattered bricks from the wall, and at least three or four of the precious sets of armor broken apart at his feet. There was a layer of dust still hanging in the air around him, and a round shield spinning, until it collapsed, loudly falling flat. An embarrassed silence followed.

“...I’m... very sorry about that.”

“Darsan...” sighed Cessilia.

She turned to Elder Olea, who looked like she was about to pass out from the shock.

“...Our precious armor!” shouted Aglithia.

“Can it be fixed?” asked Darsan, grimacing. “I promise I’ll find all the, uh... broken pieces...”

Cessilia rubbed her temples, embarrassed as well. Her brother was a walking disaster in confined spaces like this... This was precisely why he was banned from more rooms than he was allowed in at home. He was way too strong and couldn’t handle his strength well at times, especially when his enthusiasm got the better of him.

“I-... It’s fine,” grumbled Elder Olea, clearly still very upset. “Those are precious... They were meant for your family anyway, but please don’t break anymore!”

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