It was the morning, three days after Diablo's return.
That was when Youm's party arrived in Eterna.
He came at the perfect time—tonight marked the eve of the grand celebration, and starting tomorrow, after all the preparation and anticipation, the Founding Festival would begin in full.
We gathered in the conference room as usual. Before me stood Youm and his subordinates, lined up in proper formation.
"Your Honor, it's been a while! As promised, I have become a king," Youm declared with a grin.
His attire was different now—elegant and regal—but his rough-edged confidence remained unchanged. That bold attitude of his hadn't faded in the slightest.
I sat at the head of the table, leaning back with composed authority. My gaze met his, unwavering.
"You wear the crown well, Youm," I said, voice calm but carrying weight. "Your rise was expected. From this moment forward, you carry not only your name, but your nation's."
"Haha! That's my line," Youm answered, his grin broadening. "For someone like me to be made king… I owe it to you, Atem. I'll serve you until the very end. I've decided to stake everything on your ambitions. I'm not the type to half-ass something like this."
His conviction didn't waver. And judging by the fire in his eyes, he meant every word.
As promised, Youm had indeed become a king. Thanks to Diablo's relentless work in the shadows, the foundation of the new kingdom had already been firmly laid.
The old Kingdom of Farmus had crumbled, giving way to a new nation: Famenas — a country reborn from danger. Youm, its founding king, had taken the name Youm Famenas.
At his side stood two familiar figures — Myuran and Grucius. With those two watching his back, no harm would reach him easily. Though in Myuran's case, "guardian" wasn't all she was.
"Your Majesty Atem," Myuran said gracefully, stepping forward. "I apologize for the late greeting. I am Myu Famenas, the wife of the King of Famenas, Youm. It is an honor to meet you again."
She curtsied elegantly, her voice calm, refined, queenly. Her beauty commanded the attention of the entire room.
I studied her closely. "Myuran," I said, my tone shifting to one of quiet appraisal, "you carry yourself as a queen should."
Youm laughed, proud. "Right? That's because unlike me, Myuran actually has refinement."
"I may look like this," Myuran added with a faint smile, "but I have experience. Even Clayman, for all his sins, valued manners. His castle was filled with art and luxury. It seems some of that training rubbed off on me."
I nodded once. It was ironic that Clayman's obsession with aristocratic refinement would now serve to strengthen a kingdom born from his ruin. But useful is useful — I never reject an asset.
"So," I said, my voice deepening, "even the cruelties of the past can build pillars for the future. You wear the lesson well."
Youm chuckled, scratching his head. "Yeah, and manners are still a pain. I swear nobles never stop talking. Endless audiences, endless requests for favors. And don't even get me started on idiots picking fights just to gain influence. If it weren't for old man Razen cleaning up after them, I'd have lost my mind by now."
Razen wasn't here. The chief sorcerer was still occupied stabilizing Famenas's internal affairs. For a man of his cunning, betraying us would have been a natural concern—but with Diablo's 'Tempter' binding him, such a betrayal was impossible.
Even the former king had stepped back into the shadows to advise Youm, strengthening the kingdom's political foundation. A clever move.
Then my eyes turned to the other majin—Grucius.
"And I hear," I said, "you've become the chief of knights."
Grucius scratched his cheek, wincing. "That is right, Atem-sama. I refused at first, but this idiot doesn't quit once he makes up his mind."
Youm smirked proudly. He'd forced the position onto Grucius. With his strength and skill, no one in the new kingdom dared to complain.
"Youm saw what others might not," I said calmly. "Wasted strength benefits no one. Famenas needs knights. You were the obvious choice."
Grucius gave a bitter sigh. "I still see myself as a subject of Karion-sama… but I'll look after this idiot for now."
"Shut up, you're the stupid one!" Youm shot back.
Their familiar bickering filled the room with a spark of life. Myuran looked between them, shaking her head. She clearly hadn't changed her tolerance for their antics.
Watching them, I felt a subtle sense of nostalgia — old bonds forged in battle rarely fray.
But then, a sharp voice broke through the air.
"Really! His Majesty Youm and Chief Grucius… this is an act of disrespect toward Lord Atem!"
The one who spoke was a boy, no older than ten. Handsome, intelligent-looking, and serious — a stark contrast to the two men he was chastising.
"Edgar," Youm groaned. "You're way too stiff."
"Hmph. If the people see how quick-witted I am, they'll understand I'm the most qualified successor to the throne," Edgar shot back, chin lifted proudly.
"Chief Grucius!" Edgar turned on him sharply. "Your jokes will cause political chaos. I'm working hard to make His Majesty a great king!"
His voice cracked slightly from youthful emotion, but his spirit didn't falter.
Edgar was the son of the former king, Edmalis. Though only ten, he spoke with clarity and conviction. It was clear he'd already been carrying the weight of leadership on small shoulders.
Youm and Grucius might tease him relentlessly, but their glances at him carried something else beneath the surface — genuine affection.
Although I would have liked to continue this heartwarming conversation, there were more pressing matters to attend to. Youm's party had just arrived after a long journey, and other high-status guests would soon be coming for the eve of the grand festival.
After a few more exchanges, I rose from my seat and gave him a firm nod.
"Youm, we'll share a drink later—once the formalities are over."
His face brightened. "Of course, Atem. I'll hold you to that."
I turned slightly, my cloak shifting with a subtle weight of command. "Diablo."
Before I could even finish the call, Diablo was already stepping forward from the shadows, as if he had been waiting for my signal.
"Yes, Atem-sama. I believe this is what you intended."
He presented a finely sealed document with a respectful bow. I took it and handed it to Youm without hesitation.
Youm blinked, caught off guard. "Your Honor, this is…?"
He still wasn't fully confident in reading formal documents, so he passed it quickly to Edgar, his loyal attendant. Edgar's eyes swept over the words, and his expression hardened into disbelief.
"I–I shall void the remaining balance for the reparations… Is that what this means?" he asked, almost breathless.
I looked at him directly. My voice carried the weight of an undeniable decree.
"That's right. The matter is finished. Youm now rules as king—there's no reason to chain the people of Falmouth to the past. Their debt to Eterna ends here."
Diablo stood silently behind me, his presence making the statement even heavier.
Youm scratched his head, looking both shocked and thrilled. "Haha, I don't quite get all the details, but if Atem says it's settled, then it's settled. Right, Edgar?"
Edgar stared at the document as though it were a miracle. "This is… an enormous act of mercy. It will change how the entire kingdom views you, Your Majesty."
I let a faint, unreadable smile cross my lips. This wasn't about mercy. It was about stability—about reshaping the world as I willed it.
The entire room seemed to recognize the weight of what had just happened. To have reparations erased by me—the Pharaoh of Eterna—was not some symbolic gesture. It was a command carved into reality itself.
Youm, now fully understanding, dropped to one knee and lowered his head. "I won't waste this, Atem. I swear it."
"Good," I replied simply, my tone final. "Then prove it with your reign."
The faint sound of his gauntlets clinking as he rose echoed softly in the hall.
Taking the still-baffled Edgar with him, Youm left the chamber, the air heavy with the realization of what had just been granted.