Chapter 70 – The Echo That Did Not Fade
Even after he was gone, the air did not move.
The throne room remained suspended in a silence that felt too heavy, too wide. As if something divine had walked through it—and left the shape of its absence behind.
No one spoke first.
Not even the Empress.
The nobles sat stiffly, some with eyes lowered, others still staring at the doors Sirius von Ross had passed through. The Emperor had returned to his seat, but his fingers—usually still—tapped once against the arm of the throne.
A beat of thought.
A rhythm of consideration.
Then—
"He's changed," whispered Duchess Heliane of Esth.
Count Marvian, seated beside her, let out a breath. "That wasn't a man. That was something else."
"You think he's still loyal?"
"He just gave up power. In this court? That's loyalty. Or madness."
"…or freedom."
The Crown Prince remained standing. One hand rested on the gilded edge of the nearest pillar, his knuckles white. His face, though unreadable to most, had lost its usual confidence. He looked toward the doors, jaw set.
"He didn't even look at me," he said under his breath.
Beside him, the Court Mage adjusted her robes, her sharp violet eyes narrowed.
"Because he no longer sees us as peers."
The Empress, ever regal, had closed her fan. She held it between two fingers now, unmoving. But her gaze was fixed not on the door… but on the Grand Duchess.
On the mother whom Sirius had passed like a stranger.
Who now stood in silence, back straight, expression unreadable. And yet… her shoulders had tensed. Just slightly. As if holding up pride by force alone.
The Empress's eyes narrowed.
She would not forget that.
And the nobles would not forget what they'd seen either.
He had ignored his own mother. Embraced his father. Returned power without hesitation. And made the Emperor—the Emperor—smile.
The ripple effect was already beginning.
Elsewhere, Later That Evening
"He's no longer human," someone whispered in the marble baths of the noble quarters.
"You think he found something?"
"He didn't just train. No one becomes that just from swinging a sword."
"Did you see his eyes? They weren't just red. They glowed. Like they could see through you."
"Magic can't do that."
"…Then what can?"
In the Palace Gardens – The Princess
Princess Alarine stared at the koi pond, silent, her reflection broken by the ripples of fish below. She had been seated during the return—elegant, proper, ever a royal. But her hands had clenched so tightly in her lap that her gloves bore creases.
Her ladies-in-waiting chattered around her, nervous laughter masking awe.
"I heard he reached the peak of magic and swordsmanship."
"Then why leave?"
"Because there's more," Alarine whispered.
The ladies fell silent.
She turned slightly toward them, white gloves laced.
"He wouldn't return if he hadn't found something."
Among the Pillars
"You felt it too," said the White Iron General, voice low, speaking to the Flame Commander.
The latter nodded once.
"His presence. It bent the mana in the room."
"He wasn't just stronger. He commanded the space. Like a king without a crown."
"…Or a king who doesn't need one."
Inside the Ross Estate
The Grand Duke sat in his study.
The fire was low. The tea on the side table untouched.
He had not spoken since returning from the court.
He simply stood there, a hand still raised to his chest—where Sirius had embraced him. His expression was unreadable. But there was a shine in his eyes that age had not dulled.
He would tell no one what that moment meant.
He didn't need to.
He had received what no title could give.
And the Grand Duchess
She sat in the receiving room alone, the door shut, the light dim.
No one had approached her. Not even her closest ladies.
Not after seeing what had happened.
Not after seeing her son treat her as air.
Her fingers, clasped in her lap, trembled.
Not with rage.
But with something worse.
Defeat.
And Beyond the Palace Walls…
The news spread like wildfire.
Through streets. Inns. Taverns. Outposts. Markets.
"Sirius von Ross has returned."
"Changed. Taller. Stronger. The same, but not."
"No longer human, they say."
"He gave up his seat. Said the Empire can't help him grow anymore."
"What's he looking for?"
"What comes next," someone answered in a quiet, reverent tone. "After the peak."
"Does something come after that?"
No one knew.
But everyone was listening.
And in the far corners of the continent…
Others began to move.
For when the strongest man alive stepped down from his throne—
The world could not help but shudder.