Son of the Hero King

Chapter 762: Wedding (2)

The chapel of the Church of Castitas fell into stunned silence as Medea appeared at the doors. Guiding her forward was an illustrious demigod, her mother Ambrosia.

The moment he laid his eyes on her, Sol’s breathing stopped for a short moment.

Medea had changed. By an absurdly astounding degree, in fact. It was as though she had suddenly gone through a growth spurt overnight and had a few years of growth all at once.

She stood taller now, her figure refined, elegant, and overall fuller, every movement carrying quiet confidence. Though still not as tall as Sol, her height and bearing gave her a commanding grace.

Her long silver hair spilled in smooth waves down her back, gleaming under the chapel light like threads of moonlight. What drew everyone’s gaze, however, were her eyes— one a deep, burning red, the other a luminous gold. Together, they carried both danger and allure, as though they held two worlds within them.

All hesitation, fear, and worries that were gnawing at Sol’s mind had vanished in an instant. In their place, all that was left was a young man mesmerized by the first love of his life at her wedding dress.

For as long as anyone remembered, Medea had worn black robes, dresses, veils, and shadowy silhouettes clinging to her form like armor. Today, however, clothed in white, her beauty struck even harder than he could have ever anticipated.

The dress Medea was wearing seemed simple at first glance, yet its craftsmanship and the materials used on it were in no way inferior to Sol’s robe.

White silk flowed around her in intricately layered waves, each fold catching the sunlight and breaking it into a mixture of faint, kaleidoscopic colors.

The bodice fit close, trimmed with pale blue lace that traced her neckline and shoulders, soft against her skin but precise in detail. A satin ribbon of the same blue tied neatly at her waist, holding the shape of the gown as the skirt spread outward, wide and full, moving with each step like ripples across water.

In her hands, she carried a bouquet of pastel flowers bound with silk.

The veil framed her face in soft shades of light, the gown flowing like water around her graceful, nigh ethereal form. Nobles who once whispered doubts now held their breath, struck by her beauty.

In such an enchanting atmosphere, under the stunned gazes of the assembly, she reached the altar, and Ambrosia released her hand before taking a few steps back.

Medea stopped beside Sol, and when their eyes met through the veil, the world shrank for both to accommodate only the pair, the presence of everything and everyone else fading out. Only the two of them understood how many obstacles, internal and external, they had to face before they were able to stand side by side in this place.

Medea in particular still felt befuddled with it all. Deep down, she still wondered if she had been trapped in some blissful dream or nightmarish illusion that could break at any moment and elevate her eternal torture. Many dreadful scenarios passed through her mind. Perhaps she was still sleeping deep down in the Tower, wallowing in misery with nothing else to do.

However, no matter what depressing thoughts might be fleeting through her brain, this was ultimately the reality. A reality that not even her wildest dream could have ever conjured.

Sol was not faring much better than Medea.

His hand twitched slightly at his side, an unconscious urge to reach out for her and wrap her in his embrace, trying his best to mold their bodies into one. He forced it still, but the weight in his chest only grew heavier.

He had faced goddesses without blinking, threatened country leaders, and even fought on a battlefield full of demigods… But now, with Medea standing beside him, his throat felt unspeakably dry.

Camelia’s voice cut through the hush, breaking the pair out of their world.

“The bride has arrived. Let all present here bear witness.”

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Camelia lowered her staff, her blind eyes resting on them both. A quiet feeling of happiness filled her heart. Though she was not standing at Sol’s side, it was trivial to her and in no way diminished the feelings she bore in her heart.

“One thousand years ago, Witches and Humans, once allies, were separated. A thousand years of bloodshed, a thousand years of hatred, and a thousand years of persecution will now be put to an end here and now with the union of the two people standing here.”

Her tone was solemn, unyielding.

“Before the Goddess, before this assembly, vows shall be spoken. Sol Dragona Luxuria. Crown Prince of Lustburg and the Dragon Emperor, step forward and speak.”

As though performed off a script, all eyes turned to Sol at once. The air seemed to grow heavier, but not from his aura this time around. It was the pressure of expectation, of history, of countless voices waiting to hear what he would declare.

Sol inhaled slowly, the edges of his nervousness softening as he looked at Medea’s gorgeous countenance once more. Her presence anchored him. At that moment, the grand hall, the nobles, all of it receded.

All that was left was the woman he loved. The first love of his life.

“Medea. Do you remember how this all started? Back then, not so long ago in fact, I was but an immature young man. No power to speak of and only hopeless bravado. I told you then that, though I could not understand your pain, I would help you with all of my being.”

He gave a gentle smile and endearingly called her,

“Back then, you told me that you hated your cowardly self and that you were an empty person.”

Medea’s ears reddened at the reminder of her dark past. Memories of that day came back to her mind in droves. A time that was indeed not so distant. Less than a year, in fact. For long-lived species like her, one year was not even a blip in their existence. Barely enough for a light nap. But for Medea, that one year was worth more than the preceding 999 years of her grueling existence.

It was amazing how much had changed in so little time.

“All I could say then was that I loved you despite all your possible faults. Let me change the declaration now.”

He looked down, eyes softening with infinite love for her,

“Be it then or now, you are the greatest person in this world for me. You are not flawless. You make mistakes, you can act clumsily, and you are sometimes very scatterbrained. All those small flaws constitute the woman I love.”

His smile grew… wider, gentler, infinitely loving.

“The Medea I know and love is not worthless, nor is she selfish. She is a gentle, sometimes awkward, woman. She was the guiding light in my life, and now she is the light I wish would shine beside me for my whole existence.”

Sol could see Medea’s eyes redden at his solemn declaration.

“I love you. Always had, always will, and not even Death can do us apart. This, I can promise with my immortal soul on the line.”

Medea lowered her head slightly, her veil trembling with the faintest motion. The red and gold of her eyes shimmered, blurred by the tears she desperately struggled to hold back.

For someone who had carried centuries of bitterness in silence, to hear such words spoken so openly before all… Those words, the feelings, they pierced deeper than any blade ever could. In a good way.

The chapel remained utterly still. Even the most cynical nobles could not scoff, not with the weight in Sol’s voice. His vow had not been lofty rhetoric about kingdoms or duty. It was raw and disarmingly human.

The words of a man madly in love with his beloved.

Camelia raised her staff again, her expression unreadable, though a faint smile could be seen tugging at her lips if observed closely enough. She turned slightly toward Medea.

“Medea Asmodeus, Witch Queen and Tutor of the Crown. Speak your vows.”

Medea’s fingers tightened around her bouquet, her chest rising and falling as she steadied herself. For most of her life, she had worn her armor in the form of silence and distance.

After being betrayed by the man she once loved, she fell into a swamp of negativity and depression.

Words had never been her strength. Still, before Sol, she found them far too easily to justify her awkwardness with speech.

When she spoke, her voice was soft but clear, carrying through the entirety of the hushed chapel.

“Sol… When you first discovered the Gate to my hidden space, you brought with you a new wind of change. My own pitiful and cowardly self slowly withered, and now I stand before you a changed woman.”

Her lips curved in the faintest smile as she continued, eyes shining with love and adoration behind the veil.

“I was empty when you found me. Hollowed by guilt, fear, and shame. But you… You filled that void. With your recklessness, your laughter, your stubbornness, and above all— your relentless, passionate love. You gave me back the right to dream once again and to correct the mistakes of the past.”

Her hand loosened on the bouquet. She was now finding her confidence again. She knew how much Sol loved her. Still feeling fear at this point would be nothing but an insult to him and his emotions. Insult to everything they’ve been through to reach this point.

“You say I am the greatest person for you. But for me, you are far more than that. You are my Sun. My Hero.”

She looked up, doing her best to hold back the tears that threatened to let loose and never stop. The depth of the emotions swirling in those blurry eyes bore a weight that no one could deny.

“So I vow to walk beside you, even into fire. To bear your burdens when you falter. To share in your light, and to give you mine when darkness surrounds you.”

At the end of her words, Medea lost the battle, and a tear slipped past her veil, glittering in the chapel’s light.

“I love you, Sol. And I always will, until the End of all things and beyond.”