Third Person POV
Aurein tightened his grip around the hilt of his sword.
It felt heavier than he remembered.
Far heavier.
The Solyn warrior standing before him advanced at an unhurried pace, a crooked smile playing on his lips—amused, confident, already convinced of victory. Aurein raised his blade, feet planted too stiffly, shoulders drawn tight. Every movement spoke of training—disciplined, precise—
And painfully unseasoned.
"Alright... first stance," Aurein muttered under his breath, trying to remember. "Guard form. Left foot forward then hilt of the sword at the—"
"Aurein!" Serena snapped. "Stop that! What are you doing? Have you lost your mind? This isn't training—fight now!"
"S-Sorry!" Aurein blurted, panic flashing across his face. "I thought the enemy would follow the proper sequence too!"
The enemy did not.
The Solyn warrior struck.
Aurein barely managed to block in time.
The impact slammed through his arms like a thunderclap, pain jolting sharply through his wrists. He staggered back, breath knocked from his lungs, fingers numbing as the sheer force tore the sword from his grip and fell to the ground.
"Okay," he muttered shakily. "Okay... that hurt a lot more than I expected."
He swallowed hard.
The Solyn warrior raised his sword again, already preparing the next strike.
"Wait!" Aurein suddenly shouted, raising one hand in a frantic signal.
The warrior blinked and tilted his head in confusion.
"I just need to pick up my sword quickly!" Aurein said quickly, pointing down. "It fell! Don't cheat, alright? Be fair!"
Serena dragged a hand down her face, clearly embarrassed and irritated at the same time because of him.
The white-haired man beside her burst out laughing.
"Didn't see that coming," he said, clearly entertained. "But the enemy did wait for him."
"It worked!" Aurein whispered to himself, eyes wide with disbelief. "General Voltaire said they wouldn't stop even if I told them to—but he actually stopped!"
Beaming, Aurein hurriedly snatched his sword from the ground.
Then he swung.
He missed.
The blade cut cleanly through empty air, and the momentum dragged him forward so violently that he nearly tripped over his own boots.
"Oh—no—!"
He flailed, arms windmilling as he barely managed to catch himself.
Behind him, Serena groaned, pressing her palm to her forehead. "Please try not to embarrass yourself, Aurein."
"I am concentrating!" he snapped back, face burning.
The Solyn warrior laughed—and lunged again.
Aurein panicked.
He reacted too fast.
He raised his sword, but his grip slipped—the blade was still too heavy, unfamiliar. Steel collided with steel in a deafening clang, the impact forcing him backward. His heel caught on broken stone.
He fell.
Hard.
"Aurein!" Serena barked.
"I'm fine!" he shouted, scrambling back to his feet. "I meant to do that!"
"You meant to formally introduce yourself to the floor?" she scoffed, then glanced at the white-haired man. "Please excuse him. He's new to this."
"Looks like it," the man replied, grinning. "But hey—he's still standing. That counts." He turned to Aurein. "Want some sword fighting tips, cute boy?"
"Don't call me that!" Aurein snapped. "And don't you know I'm a prince?"
"Alright, alright," the man said, raising both hands and stepping back in surrender. "Sorry, I did know you were a prince. Then, it should be cute Prince boy."
The Solyn warrior advanced again, confidence radiating from every step. To him, Aurein was no longer a threat—just prey.
Aurein swallowed.
"Stop panicking."
General Voltaire's voice echoed in his mind—flat, commanding.
"Do not rush. Feel the weight. Control your breathing."
Aurein inhaled.
Exhaled.
This time, when the enemy struck, Aurein did not swing wildly.
He blocked.
The shock still hurt—but he held.
The Solyn warrior pressed harder, trying to overpower him. Aurein's arms trembled violently, muscles screaming—but he didn't yield.
"Hey!" Serena called while disarming another opponent. "That's better. Less flailing."
"A little encouragement would be nice!" Aurein yelled back.
"Encouragement?" She laughed. "Try not to die—or I'll marry General Voltaire."
"No!" Aurein shouted in horror.
The Solyn warrior overextended.
Aurein saw it.
An opening.
His eyes widened—not with fear this time, but realization.
He stepped in.
Knocked the enemy's blade aside.
And thrust forward.
It wasn't elegant. It wasn't perfect.
But it was true.
His sword struck the warrior square in the chest.
The Solyn warrior collapsed.
For a heartbeat, Aurein simply stood there, frozen.
Then—
"I... I did it?" he whispered, amused.
He stared down at his hands, then at the fallen enemy.
"I actually—Serena! I did it! My first victory!"
Laughing triumphantly, Aurein dropped his sword and clapped like an overexcited child.
Serena glanced over mid-fight, eyebrow lifting. "Well. That was unexpected."
"Did you see that?" Aurein beamed.
"Yes," she said coolly as she cut down another foe. "Very proud. But still sloppy. You need more training."
"I wish the General had seen that!" Aurein said, eyes shining.
The white-haired man clapped once, amused. "Your first kill always feels and looks like that," he said. "Messy. Terrifying. Memorable. You did great, cute Prince boy."
"I told you not to call me that!" Aurein snapped as he hurriedly picked up his sword—though he laughed breathlessly, adrenaline rushing through him. "I thought I was going to die. Thank you for the kind words—except for the part where Serena's been insulting me nonstop."
"You still might die," Serena added dryly. "Focus. That was only one. We've got plenty more."
And with that, Aurein lifted his sword again—heart pounding, fear still present, but now laced with something new.
Confidence.
For the first time in battle, the prince was no longer just surviving.
He was fighting back.
Another Solyn warrior charged straight at Aurein.
This time, Aurein did not hesitate.
He raised his sword and met the attack head-on—blocked, stepped sideways, and countered in one breathless motion. The clash of steel rang sharp and violent. The enemy's blade grazed the edge of his sleeve, close enough to make his skin prickle, but Aurein pushed through it. His heart thundered, his muscles burned, and his footing wavered—
—but he stayed upright.
He struck back again, driving the warrior into retreat.
"Hey!" Serena called over the clash of weapons. "You're learning."
Aurein's grin returned—smaller now, steadier, edged with confidence. "Don't sound so surprised," he said.
"Oh, I absolutely am," she replied dryly.
The Solyn warrior broke and fled.
Aurein stood still for a moment, chest heaving, sword trembling in his hands—not from fear this time, but from the surge of adrenaline roaring through him.
He let out a soft, breathless laugh.
"I'm surviving," he said in disbelief. "I'm fighting... and this actually feels good."
Serena finally turned fully toward him, her sword resting against her shoulder. "You did," she admitted. "And without screaming or crying."
"High praise," Aurein said proudly.
She smirked. "Next lesson—we work on not falling."
"One step at a time," he replied, rolling his eyes.
Nearby, the white-haired warrior watched them with a knowing smile. "Fighting alongside you two seems fun," he remarked. "Definitely not boring."
This was no longer just survival.
It was the beginning of Aurein's progress.
And then—
The moment Serena wrapped her fingers fully around her sword, the last trace of irritation vanished from her expression.
Her posture shifted—spine straight, shoulders relaxed, eyes sharp and focused. The teasing princess disappeared. What stood in her place was a trained warrior who knew exactly what she was doing.
A Solyn warrior charged her.
Serena stepped forward instead of back.
She parried his strike cleanly, steel screaming as their blades collided. She pivoted smoothly, twisted her wrist, and sent his sword skidding across the ground. Her knee drove into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs, and she sent him crashing flat onto his back.
Even in motion, her hair flowed like silk, framing her movements with an almost unreal elegance. The sight was so mesmerizing that even the Solyn warriors hesitated, watching her in stunned awe.
"It seems you are captivating our enemies, making them pause, bad-tempered lady," the white-haired man teased. "That's an advantage."
"If you don't stop talking," Serena hissed, "you're the next one I strike."
"I suppose both of you hate me," he said, laughing.
Behind Serena—
Clang.
"—Whoa!"
Aurein slipped as his foot caught on loose rubble, barely managing to keep his sword from flying from his grip.
Serena did not even look back.
"Careful, Your Highness," she called calmly while ducking under another attack. "The sword is meant to stay in your hand."
"Serena, now is not the time!" Aurein protested.
"Oh, it absolutely is."
She spun, slashing upward and forcing her opponent to stagger back. Another Solyn warrior rushed her from the side, but Serena anticipated it effortlessly. She stepped into his range, struck once—clean and precise—disarming him, then followed with a sharp kick that sent him crashing into a column.
She exhaled, steady and controlled.
Another enemy lunged.
Serena met him head-on.
Her movements were elegant—almost angelic—but every strike carried lethal intent. She flowed seamlessly from block to strike, strike to spin, her blade flashing like silver light. The warrior barely had time to react before she hooked his sword aside and slammed the pommel into his jaw.
He collapsed instantly.
Behind her—
"Ah—!"
Aurein swung too wide, missed completely, and nearly over-rotated.
Serena finally glanced back, one eyebrow arching. "You know," she said dryly while deflecting another blow without effort, "the enemy is in front of you."
"I'm aware!" Aurein snapped, flustered. "It's just—this sword is heavier than mine! If I had my own, I swear I'd be doing much better! You'll see!"
"Excuses," she said flatly.
She lunged again, faster now, forcing two opponents to retreat at once. One tried to circle her.
A mistake.
Serena spun low, swept his legs out from under him, and brought her blade down—stopping just short of his throat.
"Don't mess with me, hmp!" she said coolly, flipping her hair aside.
The warrior did not hesitate.
As he scrambled away, the white-haired man laughed softly. "You really do fight like an angel," he remarked. "A fierce one.
Serena scoffed as she blocked another strike and countered with a brutal slash. "Angels like me are the dangerous ones."
Clang.
Behind her, Aurein slipped again—but this time, he recovered. Gritting his teeth, he swung and landed a shaky but successful hit, knocking his opponent backward.
Serena heard it.
She smirked.
"Well done," she called without turning around. "I see improvement."
Aurein's face lit up. "Really?"
"Don't get cocky," she added instantly. "You still nearly stabbed the ground instead of the enemy."
The final Solyn warrior she faced hesitated—then fled.
Serena lowered her blade, breathing steady, not a hint of exhaustion on her face. She flicked the blood from her sword and turned toward Aurein.
"Next time," she said, eyes glinting with mischief, "try not to trip over yourself. You're a prince—not a performance artist."
Aurein huffed, half embarrassed, half proud. "At least I didn't scream."
She smiled—just a little.
And nearby, the white-haired warrior watched them both with open amusement, clearly entertained by the chaos they created together.
The Solyn warriors regrouped.
Five of them this time—tight formation, disciplined, unmistakably experienced. They shifted with calculated precision, blades angled, boots sliding into position.
Their attention no longer lingered on Aurein or Serena.
Every pair of eyes locked onto the white-haired man.
He noticed immediately.
Tilting his head slightly, he loosened his shoulders, a faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "Oh," he murmured. "That look. I know that look."
He stepped forward.
No dramatic stance. No challenge shouted into the night.
Just movement.
The first Solyn warrior lunged.
The stranger did not block.
He sidestepped—so smoothly it almost looked lazy—and let the blade slice through the space where his neck had been a heartbeat earlier. In the same fluid motion, he hooked the attacker's wrist, twisted sharply, and redirected the man's own momentum into the ground.
The warrior hit hard.
He did not get back up.
"Wow..." Aurein breathed, stunned. "He fights so effortlessly. Like this is just a boring exercise to him."
The second warrior attacked from behind.
The stranger heard him.
Without turning, he lifted his sword just enough to deflect the strike, then drove his elbow backward into the man's ribs with bone-crushing precision. He spun once—blade flashing—
—and the warrior fell.
Aurein stared. "...He didn't even look at him," he whispered.
Serena said nothing. She was watching too closely, lips curved with quiet amusement.
Two Solyn warriors rushed together, attempting to overwhelm him with numbers.
The stranger laughed softly. "Now that's better. I don't have to deal with them one at a time."
He moved into their attack instead of away from it.
Steel rang sharply as he parried one blade, ducked beneath the other, and stepped between them. A sharp kick sent one warrior stumbling into the other, breaking their formation. Before either could recover, his sword snapped upward—clean, controlled, merciless.
Both fell.
The final Solyn warrior hesitated.
The stranger noticed at once.
"Run," he suggested kindly.
The man did not need encouragement.
As the warrior fled, the stranger did not pursue. He merely watched him disappear, then exhaled slowly, rolling his neck as though loosening mild tension.
"Honestly," he muttered, "I didn't enjoy that. I enjoyed watching you two bicker more." He glanced at Aurein. "And you—watching you fight is fun, cute prince boy."
Aurein blinked. "That was—"
"Arrogant?" Serena supplied.
The stranger grinned. "I was joking."
Aurein laughed despite himself. "Alright. I'll admit it. You're actually very good at fighting."
"If you want," the stranger said lightly, "I can offer you sword training. It comes with a fee, though."
"What? No!" Aurein protested. "I already have a trainer!"
"Two is better than one," the man replied with a smirk. "And I offer free massages as part of my service. I bet your trainer doesn't do that."
"Stop that!" Aurein snapped, flustered. Because in his mind, it was just more than a massage that Voltaire gives to him.
The Solyn warrior who had circled wide struck.
The stranger turned just in time.
He caught the blade with his bare hand—clapping his palm against the steel and stopping it inches from his chest.
Aurein gasped. "Are you okay—!"
Too late.
The stranger twisted, yanked the warrior forward, snapped his wrist, and struck him down with a single decisive motion.
Silence fell.
The stranger wiped his blade clean, movements calm and unhurried—as if he had not just dismantled a group of trained soldiers alone.
Serena crossed her arms. "You fight like someone who's done this far too many times."
He smiled faintly. "Not that many."
Aurein hesitated. "You really are nobody? Where are you from? I don't see any crest or symbol on your gear."
"I really am nobody," the stranger said lightly, eyes sharp but warm. "If I were somebody, you'd already be in much bigger trouble."
"What do you mean?" Aurein asked, scratching his head.
From a distance, the clash of steel carried across the field.
General Voltaire heard it.
He turned sharply and moved toward the sound, Ton-Ton, Asper, and Dante following close behind.
The stranger's expression shifted—not fear, but alertness.
"Looks like your friends are about to arrive," he said casually. "You might want to look innocent."
Aurein stared around at the fallen Solyn warriors. "Innocent? With...this?"
The stranger chuckled and stepped backward into the shadows. "I'll see you both around—cute prince boy, bad-tempered lady."
"Wait!" Aurein called. "We don't even know your name!"
The man paused, glancing back over his shoulder as moonlight caught in his white hair.
"Names," he said with a smile, "are for people who plan to stay. I told you—I'm just nobody. Until we meet again. And if you change your mind, we can discuss the sword training fee and don't forget the massage."
And with that—
He was gone.
Leaving behind silence, fallen enemies... and far more questions than answers.
Aurein exhaled. "Who was that guy? Was he related to you, Serena? You have the same hair color."
"Aurein," Serena snapped, irritation flaring, "not everyone with the same hair color as me is related to me."
He winced. "Right. Fair point."
But the unease lingered.
Because nobody fought like that.
And nobody vanished so easily.
General Voltaire halted mid-stride.
"Aurein? Serena?" he said sharply, disbelief flashing across his face as his gaze swept over them. "What are you doing here?"
His eyes dropped at once—to the swords clutched in their hands, to the Solyn warriors sprawled unconscious at their feet, armor dented, bodies unmoving.
A pause.
Then his jaw tightened.
"Don't tell me," Voltaire said slowly, "that you defeated these warriors yourselves."
Aurein opened his mouth, already flustered. "Um... actually, we still have another—"
"Yes!" Serena cut in immediately, stepping forward with unmistakable pride. "And Aurein did well. He slipped a lot and missed a strike, but his training paid off. The two of us fought them." She lifted her chin. "You should be impressed."
Voltaire's brows drew together.
Aurein winced. "I know... you are angry that we left the chamber" he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. We just wanted to see you fight. I wanted to be inspired." His eyes lit up despite himself. "And I saw Dante, Ton-Ton, and Asper too. You were incredible—all of you. I watched everything."
Ton-Ton beamed proudly.
Asper smirked.
Dante smiled, gentle and unreadable.
Voltaire exhaled sharply. "An order is an order," he said sternly. "Why did you leave the chamber? What if something had happened to you?"
Serena crossed her arms. "Relax, General. Do we look harmed?" She gestured toward the fallen enemies. "They're the ones who should be worried. They underestimated us. And we couldn't just sit inside a chamber and do nothing."
Voltaire closed his eyes briefly, then turned to Serena, studying her with new scrutiny.
"You know how to fight?" he asked.
She sighed. "Fine. Yes. I admit it." Her voice softened, but her spine stayed straight. "I pretended I didn't know how to wield a sword. I am a princess—but I am a warrior at heart."
Voltaire nodded slowly, though his expression remained severe. "Even so," he said, turning back to Aurein, "you will receive a punishment from me. And more laps for you for tomorrow's training."
Aurein blinked. "Wait—training? After all this? After a war?"
"And why not?" Voltaire replied evenly. "Training does not stop. Not even for war."
Serena smirked. "You need it, Aurein. So you don't slip and fall next time."
"I suppose..." Aurein muttered, releasing a breath.
Then Voltaire stepped closer.
Without warning, he rested a hand on Aurein's head and gave it a firm, reassuring pat.
"But I am proud of you," he said quietly. "You did well." His gaze shifted to Serena. "Both of you did. Even without seeing it myself, I can tell."
Serena smiled. "As expected."
Voltaire straightened. "Now, we finish this. Let's end the Solyn warriors."
Aurein hesitated, then asked, "Can we fight beside you?"
Voltaire's lips curved faintly. "Stay close to me. It's time the other generals see what you can do."
Serena pointed her sword at Aurein. "Please, Aurein, don't embarrass yourself—or the General. And don't drop your sword this time."
"It's heavy," Aurein protested. Then he glanced around. "May I retrieve my own sword from your hut first, General?"
Voltaire nodded. "Of course. Let's go."
And with that, they moved.
* * *
The palace's main gate had become a storm of steel.
Torches burned fiercely along the towering stone walls, flames whipping in the wind as Solyn warriors surged forward in relentless waves. The massive gates loomed behind Voltaire's forces—scarred, battered, but still standing.
And now—
They were no longer fighting alone.
"Form up," Voltaire commanded, his voice slicing through the chaos.
The battlefield shifted the moment he stepped forward.
Voltaire moved with merciless precision, his blade flashing as he cut down the first enemy who dared approach. His presence alone was enough to make warriors hesitate—and hesitation was fatal.
At his side—
Aurein drew his own sword.
This time, his stance and movement was different. He's more composed now that he can carry his sword with ease.
Feet grounded. Shoulders steady. Grip firm. More solid.
No trembling.
No panic.
A Solyn warrior lunged.
Aurein blocked cleanly.
Steel rang as the impact echoed through his arms. He slid back half a step—but held. He pivoted exactly as Voltaire had taught him, blade angled, eyes locked forward.
"Good," Voltaire said without turning. "Keep going."
Another enemy attacked.
Aurein stepped in, parried, and countered. The strike wasn't perfect—but it was controlled. The Solyn warrior staggered, startled.
Aurein didn't hesitate.
He followed through, knocking the blade aside and striking decisively.
The enemy fell.
Aurein inhaled sharply—but he did not freeze.
He moved forward.
"Well done," Voltaire said as he smirked. "You're improving. Make sure you focus on the enemy's blind spot."
Aurein huffed. "Why does it feel like you're using a real war as my training ground?"
"Because I am," Voltaire replied, smiling.
From the walls above, other generals watched in stunned silence.
"...Is that the prince?" General Almiro asked.
"He's fighting," General Lysandra said quietly. "And properly."
Nearby, Serena was already deep in battle.
She moved like a tempest—graceful, relentless, merciless. Her sword flowed through the air, every strike precise, every movement fluid. She disarmed one enemy, spun, and drove her blade into another without breaking rhythm.
"Eyes up, Aurein," she called. "You're improving—but don't get arrogant."
"I'm not!" Aurein shouted, blocking another attack. "I'm just confident!"
"Well, watch this." she replied dryly, cutting down an opponent.
Behind them—
"TON-TON, STOP EATING AND HIT SOMETHING!" Asper yelled.
"I AM HUNGRY!" Ton-Ton shouted back, chewing an apple he had somehow found.
Then he charged, swinging his massive axe with terrifying enthusiasm, smashing through Solyn warriors like a living battering ram.
Asper darted through the chaos, swift and lethal. "Left side, Dante!"
Dante moved instantly, blade flashing in seamless coordination, his expression calm—almost innocent—as another enemy fell at his feet.
The battlefield roared.
And for the first time—it could be the greatest team in the making...
The future of Ardentia, fought at the front lines.
From above, where the archers held their line, General Hector let out a disbelieving laugh.
"They fight as if they've been doing this together for years," he said.
General Hans smirked beside him. "That prince," he replied, eyes narrowing. "He's become Voltaire's shadow. He had improved a lot."
Below, Aurein heard nothing. Unaware of the praises.
No cheers. No commands.
Only his own breath—ragged, steadying, real.
Another Solyn warrior charged.
Aurein moved.
Not hurried. Not reckless.
He sidestepped cleanly this time, redirected the strike, and countered in one fluid motion. His blade struck true, forcing the enemy back just as Voltaire stepped in and ended the fight with a single, decisive blow.
Voltaire glanced at Aurein.
A small nod and a soft smile.
Approval.
It struck Aurein harder than any shouted praise which made his heart flutter.
Then the final wave surged forward.
Voltaire raised his sword.
"Together," he said. "We end this now!"
They moved as one.
Steel crashed against steel. Sparks burst into the night. Enemies fell beneath coordinated strikes, driven back by precision and unity.
At Aurein's flank, Serena fought fiercely, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"Guard higher."
"Don't overreach."
Aurein listened.
Adjusted.
Improved.
Each movement sharper than the last.
* * *
When the final Solyn warrior fled beyond the shattered gates, silence descended upon the battlefield—broken only by heavy breathing and the crackle of burning torches.
For a single heartbeat—
Nothing.
Then—
The palace erupted.
Steel slammed against shields as warriors struck their weapons together, the thunder-like echoing through the grounds. Shouts burst from every direction—raw, victorious, unrestrained.
"We held them!"
"They're retreating!"
"SOLYN IS FALLING BACK!"
"We won!"
Laughter followed—breathless, incredulous laughter from warriors who moments ago had stood on the edge of death. Some dropped to one knee in exhaustion. Others raised their swords high, roaring triumph into the night.
Along the walls, generals pounded their fists against stone.
General Fredrein laughed sharply. "It was fun battling alongside everyone."
General Zavier shook his head slowly. "No," he said. "Don't be too happy. It means we have to get stronger now because of what Voltaire and his army showed us."
Eyes turned as one.
Toward the main gate.
Toward General Voltaire.
Toward the prince standing at his side.
Murmurs spread like wildfire.
"That was Aurein..."
"He didn't hide in his chamber."
"He fought with us."
"With sword and courage."
"And Princess Serena—she can fight too."
"That's our future King and Queen?"
"Then Ardentia will be unstoppable."
"Our kingdom will be in good hands!"
Warriors stared openly now—wide-eyed, stunned, reverent.
A young soldier whispered, "He didn't hesitate."
Another grinned. "That stance—General Voltaire trained him, for sure."
Near the front line, Ton-Ton lifted his weapon triumphantly. "Finally! Our first war was a success!"
Asper smirked, wiping blood from his sleeve. "I had so much fun! I'm ready for the next war!"
Dante merely smiled, calm as ever, his gaze flicking briefly toward Voltaire—measured, thoughtful.
"Thank you, General Voltaire." He said calmly as he smiled.
"Mm." He uttered and nodded once.
Serena lowered her sword with practiced ease and straightened, chin lifted as the cheers rolled past her like a tide.
"At least, it's done now." she muttered, though pride shone unmistakably in her eyes.
Then General Voltaire stepped forward.
The battlefield slowly quieted—not completely, but enough.
He turned toward Aurein and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Once again," Voltaire announced, his voice carrying across the palace grounds, "the Kingdom of Ardentia has won!"
The response was instant.
The cheers swelled—louder, fiercer.
Not polite applause.
Not ceremonial acknowledgment.
A roar.
"For the Prince and Princess!" someone shouted.
"For every warrior who fought with pride and bravery!"
"For Ardentia!"
Swords rose. Shields rang. Boots thundered against stone.
Aurein's breath caught.
He looked around—at warriors who had bled beside him, at generals who had once doubted, at Ton-Ton, Asper, and Dante smiling proudly, at Serena smirking knowingly, at Voltaire standing tall and unshaken.
He swallowed. Tears started to form in the corner of his eyes but he tried to wiped it with his hands quickly.
This was no longer mere survival.
This was recognition.
He had stepped forward when it mattered.
He had refused to remain behind.
And he knew—without doubt—that it was Serena who had pulled him from his hesitation, who had forced him beyond comfort, who had helped him become brave enough to stand where he belonged.
At the front.
As Ardentia's future.
* * *
Aurein's POV
After that nerve-shredding war finally ended, my body gave up all at once. I collapsed onto the cold stone floor, staring at the night sky above, and only then did I truly feel how exhausted I was—how every breath felt heavier than the last.
"Aurein, can you still stand?" General Voltaire asked.
"I can't feel my legs anymore," I said.
Before I could even process what was happening, he turned his back to me and lifted me effortlessly, hoisting me up as if I weighed nothing at all. I yelped in surprise, instinctively clinging to him.
"Just hold on tight," General Voltaire said.
Moments later, the remaining generals approached us, their armor stained with soot and blood, their expressions a mixture of relief and awe.
"Once again, you've proven that you're still as mighty as ever, General Voltaire," General Almiro said. "You dismantled Solyn's rear formation as if it were nothing."
"Well, it was a combined effort," Voltaire replied calmly. "You held the front line. I took the back."
"But what truly surprised us," General Fredrein said, turning toward me with an amused smile, "was you, our dear little prince. You proved today that you can fight."
Heat rushed to my face, and I couldn't stop myself from smiling.
"To be honest, it wasn't even my best," I said, scratching the back of my head. "You just didn't see it—but I tripped a lot and missed more strikes than I'd like to admit. I still need much more practice."
"We honestly didn't expect that," General Hans said. "We thought you'd lock yourself inside your chamber and wait for the war to end."
"Well, he 'was' supposed to stay locked inside," General Voltaire added. "That was my order—as his general." He shot a sideways glance at Serena and me. "But apparently, you can never contain a restless prince and a princess."
"But Prince Aurein wasn't the only one who shocked us," General Lysandra said, turning to Serena. "You were remarkable, Princess Serena. A warrior at heart. You've given us pride—proof that women can fight and stand just as powerfully as men."
"Oh, that was nothing," Serena said lightly, flipping her hair.
"I had no idea you could fight," General Lysandra continued enthusiastically. "Why don't you join my army sometimes? Just like Prince Aurein trains under General Voltaire, you could train with my female warriors."
"Um... thank you," Serena said with a polite smile. "But I have other plans for now. Maybe next time. I'd be happy to visit when I get the chance."
"It would be an honor, Princess," General Lysandra said, bowing respectfully.
"Also," General Hector added, turning to Voltaire, "your army showed exceptional skill and teamwork. They fight as one. We underestimated warriors without battlefield experience—but their very first war proved they'll be even stronger in the battles to come."
"Thank you, General Hector," Ton-Ton, Asper, and Dante said in unison.
"Tch. Don't get too proud," General Zavier cut in, unimpressed as he cleaned his sword. "This is only the beginning. You still have a lot to prove."
I shot him an annoyed look.
"My warriors did their part as well," he continued smugly. "If it weren't for us, Solyn would've breached the palace."
Serena and I exchanged a look. We didn't need words—we were thinking the same thing. "This man is unbearable."
"But I'll give credit where it's due, General Voltaire," General Zavier went on. "The official competition hasn't even begun, yet you've already shown us what it'll feel like to face you. Don't think we'll go easy anymore. We'll train harder to surpass you. And you too, Prince Aurein—don't expect mercy. I'll make sure you crawl through the eye of a needle before you succeed."
With that, he turned and walked away.
"...Was he trying to intimidate me or insult me?" I muttered.
"He was testing you," General Fredrein said calmly. "That's just how General Zavier is. He wants to be certain that the future king we serve will be worthy. He has a huge ego, you know that."
I nodded, smiling faintly.
"Yes," General Almiro added. "This war has raised everyone's standards for the competition. It's now the foundation of how we'll shape our armies—to defeat you."
"Oh, how unfortunate," Voltaire said dryly. "I shouldn't have let my warriors shine too much. Now you've discovered my secret."
"Don't tease them, General Voltaire," General Lysandra said with a grin. "I know how proud you are right now."
As laughter spread among us, a familiar presence suddenly stepped forward.
My father.
"King Lucen!" everyone exclaimed, bowing in respect.
"Thank you, all of you," my father said warmly. "I witnessed how the battle unfolded. Though I couldn't fight beside you, seeing how each of you defended the palace filled my heart with pride. Every army fought relentlessly. And for that, I am grateful."
Then he turned to me, his smile radiant.
"And you, my son—you've proven yourself worthy of being king. I watched you fight. If only you knew, I dragged your mother along just to watch you. She was gripping my arms so tightly every time you clashed with an enemy that I thought she'd break my arm already," he added with a laugh.
"Thank you, Father," I said. "But this is thanks to General Voltaire's training—and to Ton-Ton, Asper, and Dante, whose teamwork inspired me. And of course, Princess Serena, who helped me immensely... even if she spent most of the time teasing me for being terrible."
"And you, my dear Princess Serena," my father continued proudly, "Queen Crysta and I were astonished. She said it felt like watching her younger self fight beside me once more. She was in tears when she saw you fighting alongside Aurein. You are truly worthy of becoming a powerful queen of Ardentia. It was no doubt a rightful choice to pass it on to you."
"I am deeply honored," Serena said earnestly. "I never intended for anyone to know I could fight. But I realized I must step forward too—not just Aurein. We want everyone to see that we are not rulers meant only to sit on thrones and hide behind palace walls. We will fight alongside our people."
"Well said," my father replied. "You and Aurein have proven exactly that."
"Ah—there's someone else I'd like to mention," I said suddenly. "I don't know his name, or which army he belongs to, but he helped Serena and me fight several Solyn warriors."
"Oh?" my father asked. "What does he look like?"
"He had a striking face and a strong build, with—" I began, only to feel General Voltaire pinch my leg discreetly.
Jealous. Definitely jealous.
"I mean—what stood out was his white, silky hair," I corrected quickly. "Like Serena's. Shoulder-length. He fought effortlessly, almost lazily. Possibly around the same age as General Voltaire. Do any of you know him?"
The generals exchanged uneasy glances.
"A man with white hair?" my father murmured.
Ton-Ton looked puzzled. Asper stared upward, thinking hard. Dante narrowed his eyes, his head tilting slightly.
"White hair like that is rare, especially for a guy," my father said slowly. "I recall someone—but I don't think it's him."
"Maybe it's the same person," I suggested.
"No," my father said quietly. "The guy I knew is already dead. He was a just a kid when he died. So, it's out of the question."
I nodded.
"Well, maybe we'll see him again," I said lightly. "He even offered to train me—though he said it wouldn't be free."
Voltaire shot me a sharp look.
"I train you without charging anything," he whispered angrily.
"He said free massage included," I whispered back.
"I give you more than that," he hissed.
"He also called me 'cute prince boy'," I added.
"Grrr..." he growled under his breath.
I laughed softly, leaning against his back. Watching General Voltaire get jealous over a man he'd never even seen was—unexpectedly—one of the most entertaining victories of the night.
"Well then," my father said, his voice carrying across the quiet aftermath of battle, "since all the generals are present—except General Zavier, to whom I will send a messenger—I want everyone here, generals, warriors, Princess Serena, and Aurein, to prepare for a ceremony tomorrow evening. It will be held to honor and reward every warrior and general who fought bravely tonight."
"Yes! Will there be lots of food, King Lucen?" Ton-Ton blurted out without hesitation.
Every head snapped toward him.
"Ton-Ton! Have some shame!" Asper hissed, elbowing him hard in the stomach. "You can talk like that with Prince Aurein, but not with the king!"
Instead of anger, my father burst into loud, hearty laughter.
"Yes," he said, still amused. "There will be food. And I can see that you enjoy eating quite a lot. Very well—I shall give you a banquet of your own."
Ton-Ton's eyes lit up as if he'd just been knighted.
"Really? That would be an honor!" he said, practically glowing.
"Yes," my father replied, smiling—then his expression darkened without warning. "But you must finish every single dish served to you. If you fail, I will give you a punishment you will not enjoy."
Ton-Ton stiffened instantly.
"I... I suddenly don't know if I like King Lucen's offer," he whispered to us, pale with fear. Then he turned back to my father. "M-maybe I'll just eat normally."
My father laughed again, waving a hand dismissively.
"I was joking. You will still receive your banquet, and there will be no added rules."
"Thank you, King Lucen!" Ton-Ton said, almost tearful with joy.
My father lifted his gaze to the sky, where the moon hung high and brilliant.
"This war did not even last a full day," he said. "Excellent work, everyone. News of this will spread to other kingdoms, and they will think twice before daring to invade Ardentia again." His eyes softened. "Rest well and prepare for tomorrow's ceremony. Wear proper attire. This occasion is for you—my warriors."
With that, every general and warrior straightened and bowed deeply in respect.
And then, just like that, my father left.
So did everyone else.
Until it was just us.
"You all need to rest," General Voltaire said firmly to Ton-Ton, Asper, and Dante. "Tell the others as well. We still have training tomorrow."
"...Are you serious?" I asked in horror. "Can we please take a break tomorrow and just rest?"
"Oh?" he hissed at me. "Or do you simply want to train with that man you keep mentioning?"
"N-no! I never said that!" I protested quickly. "Though, to be fair, he did look good. His chest was practically bursting out of his training gear—"
"Aurein," General Voltaire said coldly, "do you want me to cripple you right now so you can never walk again outside of your chamber?"
"You're absurdly jealous, General Voltaire!" I laughed.
"I don't want you looking at other men," he snapped.
"If girls end up liking you and I get all jealous about it, I guess it's only fair this time—now you're the one who has to get jealous of all the guys who'll end up liking me," I teased, grinning.
"This isn't funny, Aurein."
"Alright, alright. I was just joking," I said, smiling. And since I was still on his back, I wrapped my arms around him in a subtle back hug, careful not to draw attention.
"Ugh. Enough of your flirting," Serena groaned. "I'm going to rest. I need proper sleep as expects me to look beautiful tomorrow after fighting like that." She flipped her hair dramatically and began to walk away—
—only to stop when someone came running toward us, sword in hand, eyes wild.
"Where are they?! The enemies?!" Rowan shouted, scanning the area frantically.
"You're late," Serena said irritably. "The battle ended a long time ago. Why are you only showing up now?"
"I thought I was dreaming," Rowan said defensively. "I woke up and everyone was already fighting! I was still in my sleeping clothes—I had to prepare!"
"Oh, so you prepared for so long that the war ended," Serena scoffed. "Thanks for your 'effort'." Then she turned on her heel. "I'm leaving."
We watched her go, her white silky hair swaying confidently with every step.
Then Rowan suddenly turned toward us—and froze.
His eyes widened as he pointed straight at General Voltaire.
"Put Aurein down at once, General Voltaire!" he shouted. "This is inappropriate! I will tell the king!"
"Go ahead," Voltaire replied lazily. "Report me. I'll even walk you there."
"I'll tell him myself!" Rowan said, pointing furiously. "You will be punished for this!"
He turned and ran.
General Voltaire sighed deeply.
"I suspect he will be the one reprimanded," he said, shaking his head. Then his expression hardened once more. "Go to sleep, everyone. Training resumes tomorrow."
"General! I thought you'd forget!" I complained.
"I never forget," he said flatly.
"We'll head out first, General," Asper said.
Voltaire nodded. Just as they turned away, he spoke again.
"You three—just keep surprising me," he said. "I'm proud of you."
They turned back, eyes glistening. Praise from General Voltaire was rarer than gold.
"We will, General Voltaire," Ton-Ton said earnestly. "You'll be more proud of us."
Asper couldn't speak anymore as he broke into tears and Ton-Ton patted his head to comfort him.
"I won't disappoint you," Dante said with conviction.
General Voltaire studied him for a brief moment—long enough to make my chest tighten—then spoke quietly.
"I hope not only me," he said, "but do not disappoint your friends as well. Do not betray the trust they give you. They are your friends. Look after one another."
Dante bit his lower lip and nodded quickly, fighting back tears.
The three of them slung their arms around each other and walked off, singing loudly and terribly out of tune.
Then—
"And now," General Voltaire said calmly, "it is time for your punishment."
"...P-Punishment?" I asked.
"For disobeying my command," he said. "I ordered you to stay in your chamber. You did not. I don't care that you fought bravely or that everyone praises you. A rule is a rule. And you know how I am as a general. I always stick to my word."
My stomach dropped.
"W-what kind of punishment is waiting for me?" I asked, mortified.
He turned his head toward me.
And smirked.
"G-General—whatever you're thinking, I don't think I'll like it," I stammered.
"A punishment befitting a disobedient prince like you," he murmured, his voice low. "I'm going to tie you up... so you won't be able to move easily."
I swallowed hard.
"A-and?" I whispered.
"And tonight, you will drown in the horse's gift, helpless," he said. "I won't stop—even if you beg."
My eyes widened.
"If that is my punishment," I whispered, leaning close to his ear, "then I accept it gladly... wholeheartedly."
I bit his ear gently.
"My King Voltaire."
End of Chapter 35