Divine Protocol: Rise Beyond Mortals

As Hiroshi stepped into the palace alongside Sayuri, he was immediately struck by the sight of the guards at the grand gates bowing their heads in unison, their armor glinting under the soft light filtering through stained glass windows. The gesture puzzled him, a stark contrast to the casual world he knew, but he followed Sayuri inside, his footsteps echoing on the polished marble floor. The deeper they ventured, the more the palace revealed its splendor—towering arches adorned with golden filigree, walls lined with tapestries depicting ancient battles, and chandeliers casting a warm, ethereal glow. The air was thick with the faint scent of sandalwood incense, a fragrance that wrapped around him like a cloak, leaving him awestruck at the opulence unfolding before his eyes.

Suddenly, a guard approached Sayuri with a respectful bow, his voice low and formal. "Princess Sayuri, King Haruto summons you!" The word "princess" hit Hiroshi like a lightning bolt. His ears perked up, his eyes widened slightly, and he stole a quick glance at her, his mind racing with possibilities. She's a princess? If that's true, this could be a game-changer. Having a princess on my side might give me an edge—some real advantages in this strange land! With that thought simmering, he averted his gaze, careful not to reveal his excitement, though his heart beat a little faster.

Sayuri, anticipating a typical reaction—flattery, awkward compliments, or even flirtation from someone learning her status—turned to gauge Hiroshi's response. She expected him to fawn over her, perhaps shower her with praise or attempt to impress her with grand gestures. Instead, she found him standing nonchalantly, his posture relaxed as if princesses were a dime a dozen in his world, unworthy of his attention. A spark of jealousy flared within her, her pride stung. Does he think my beauty is nothing special to him? Anger simmered beneath her calm exterior, but she bit her tongue, mindful of her need for his help. Through gritted teeth, she snapped at the guard, "Leave! Tell my grandfather I'll be delayed!" With that, she stormed ahead, her footsteps sharp against the marble.

The guard and Hiroshi exchanged stunned looks, their mouths agape, but neither spoke. The guard departed to relay her message, while Hiroshi trailed her deeper into the palace's labyrinthine halls. As they wandered, the grandeur only intensified—statues of past heroes lined the corridors, their stone eyes seeming to watch his every move. Breaking the silence, he ventured, "So, you're a princess? I didn't see that coming." Sayuri lifted her chin with pride, her voice carrying a regal lilt. "Yes, I'm the princess of this land!" She studied him closely, adding with a hint of challenge, "Don't you like princesses?" Hiroshi waved dismissively, his tone casual. "They're fine, I suppose. A princess should be impressive, right?"

His offhand remark made Sayuri's head throb with irritation. He's spouting nonsense right in my own palace! Swallowing her frustration, she led him to a room with a golden door, its surface intricately carved with swirling vines and studded with glittering gems that caught the light like stars. The opulence was staggering, a testament to the kingdom's wealth. Two armored guards with spears stood at attention, their chests clad in polished breastplates, bowing as she approached. In her regal tone, she commanded, "Is Grandfather inside? Tell him Princess Sayuri has arrived."

Though her words were bold, Sayuri couldn't keep King Haruto waiting. She also wanted to introduce Hiroshi to him, hoping to bridge their worlds. A guard bowed and entered, returning shortly with a gesture to proceed. Inside, Hiroshi's eyes roamed the vast chamber—more a hall than a room—its high ceilings adorned with frescoes of celestial battles, the floor covered with plush rugs woven with silver threads, and every corner filled with luxurious furniture and priceless artifacts. At its center stood a large, ornate bed draped in silk, beside which sat an old man on a cushioned chair, a thick book in his hands—King Haruto, his presence commanding despite his age.

Hiroshi stood beside Sayuri as she bowed respectfully, her gesture fluid and practiced. Following her lead, he bowed too, honoring the king. Deep down, he respected rulers who protected their people, fought for their land, and sacrificed without hesitation. He also knew that staying in the palace meant free food and shelter—a privilege he couldn't ignore without losing face. Bowing to someone who ensures my survival isn't shameful—it's smart, he thought.

King Haruto set his book down with a soft thud, his gaze settling on Sayuri with a hint of irritation creasing his weathered face. "How many times have I told you? Don't wander out alone—these are dangerous times! But no, you never listen, you mischievous girl!" Sayuri's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the heat rising to her ears. Deflecting, she chirped, "Never mind that, Grandfather. Meet him—his name's Hiroshi, and he's a tailor!"

The king's eyes shifted to Hiroshi, scanning him from head to toe with a critical eye. His expression soured, a frown deepening the lines on his face. "You look frail, boy—barely at the first stage of the Charioteer level." He shook his head in disappointment, the motion slow and deliberate. Hiroshi felt a pang of shame, his shoulders slumping slightly under the scrutiny. The king continued, his voice tinged with reluctance, "You're decent-looking, though your clothes are odd. No matter—you're a tailor, I suppose. But a tailor's earnings are modest, and you don't seem from royalty. I can overlook that, but your power is too weak. If you were at the first stage of the Great Charioteer level, I'd marry you to Sayuri. As it stands, you're unfit. Prove yourself worthy, or forget her."

The room fell into a stunned silence, the weight of his words hanging heavy. Hiroshi's voice caught in his throat, his mind reeling, while Sayuri's thoughts spiraled into chaos. The king's frown deepened, his voice booming with authority. "Do you dare oppose my decision?" He assumed their silence meant attraction, a romance blossoming. He'd wanted to pass his duties to a suitor for Sayuri, but not a weakling like Hiroshi—enemies would invade the moment he ascended, dooming the kingdom. His logic clashed with their shock, his mind already calculating the political fallout.

Sayuri regained her composure, her voice trembling but firm. "Grandfather, you're wrong—" He cut her off, his tone unyielding. "I'm not wrong! You'll obey!" His piercing gaze bore into Hiroshi, unleashing a crushing pressure that felt like the weight of the world. Hiroshi collapsed to his knees, the force pinning him to the ground, his breath ragged. The pressure didn't relent, testing his limits.

Seeing Hiroshi struggle, the king's face twisted with disdain, his lips curling slightly. Sayuri shouted, her voice cracking with urgency, "Grandfather, stop! He's only at the Charioteer level—I brought him to design Shivani's wedding outfit!" The king flinched, lifting the pressure with a wave of his hand. Hiroshi, drenched in sweat, felt as if a hundred elephants had pinned him down. Aoi's words echoed in his mind: You must grow stronger, or all is lost. As he processed this, a hand rested on his shoulder—King Haruto's—channeling a surge of spiritual energy into him, the king's face flushed with embarrassment for his earlier harshness.

Energy coursed through Hiroshi's veins, a vortex of power forming around him, the air crackling with intensity. The king and Sayuri stepped back, their eyes wide with astonishment. Sayuri whispered, "Grandfather, what's happening?" He replied, his voice steady but curious, "It seems his power level is rising." She gasped, "But how? He didn't take a pill or train!" The king explained, "When I pressured him, he pushed his limits to resist. When I released it, his energies wandered, lost. I guided them with my spiritual power—mine is a thousand times stronger, giving his a massive boost."

Relieved yet amazed, Sayuri watched as nine-colored lights—red, green, blue, yellow, pink, orange, black, purple, brown—radiated from Hiroshi, each hue swirling like a living flame. Before she could speak, the king's voice trembled, "How is this possible?" His eyes bulged, sweat poured down his forehead, and his body shook violently. Sayuri panicked, her voice rising. "What's wrong, Grandfather? Are you okay?" Her repeated calls went unanswered as his heart raced, the room spinning, and he collapsed to the floor. "Grandfather!" she screamed, rushing to his side.

What shocked King Haruto seeing the nine-colored lights from Hiroshi? Is there a great secret hidden within them? Will the king become a threat to Hiroshi? To which power level is Hiroshi ascending?