The moment Kael's grip tightened on his sword, a brilliant light erupted.
It burst upward like a pillar, piercing the tent and soaring into the sky before spreading across all of Delcra land. A blinding radiance poured over the ruins, touching every soldier, every servant, and every citizen.
But it did not burn.
Instead, the light soothed. Wherever it fell, wounds closed, fever broke, and despair seemed to lift away. Soldiers groaned in disbelief as torn flesh sealed, broken bones mended, and strength returned to their limbs. Citizens wept as pain eased from their bodies. The air filled with cries of shock and joy, a chorus of healing.
Inside the tent, Robert gasped as the warmth enveloped him. His body trembled, but not from weakness—his chest no longer throbbed, his breathing no longer rasped. Slowly, the pallor of his face faded, replaced by a healthy flush. He touched his chest in wonder.
"I… I don't feel pain anymore," he whispered, voice trembling with relief. Then he turned his brightening eyes toward Kael, smiling as though a heavy weight had been lifted from his heart. "Thank you, young master!"
Kael's eyes lingered on him, wide and unreadable. Slowly, he lowered his gaze to the sword in his hands. The faint glow still shimmered along its edge. He knew. It was Licht. His soul had not vanished completely—Licht still lingered, bound within the blade.
Elric's voice broke through the haze of wonder. Her hand pressed lightly to her lips, her eyes wide as she recalled. "This… this is the same as before," she murmured, almost to herself. "Just like when you healed both me and Reinhardt… but stronger, purer."
Her words trailed into silence as the noise from outside swelled. The sound of hundreds of voices rising together in awe and astonishment. She quickly pushed the tent flap aside and stepped out.
Then, after a moment, she turned back in, her lips curved in a soft smile. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was no worry in her expression. "Kael, you need to see this."
Robert, now steady on his feet, hurried to Kael's side. "Lean on me, young master." He gently took Kael's arm, supporting him as he rose from the chair. Though his steps were weak, Kael stood, his presence commanding even in silence.
Together, they walked toward the entrance where Elric waited.
The light outside was dazzling still, painting the ruined castle in hues of silver and gold. And gathered in the courtyard, spilling into the streets, were the citizens of Delcra, soldiers with patched armor, servants with ash-streaked faces—men, women, and children alike.
All eyes turned to him.
The moment Kael appeared, a hush fell over the crowd. For a heartbeat, silence reigned. And then, as though carried by one shared breath, they moved as one—kneeling.
The sight froze Kael in place. Hundreds, no, thousands of them lowered their heads before him, not out of fear, but reverence.
Tears shimmered in the eyes of men who had fought and bled. Mothers clutched their children closer as they bowed, whispering prayers of gratitude. Even the injured, who moments ago had been at death's door, pressed their foreheads to the earth in respect.
Then, a soldier's voice rang out, raw and strong.
"Our true lord—Archduke Michael Einhart Delcra!"
The cry carried, echoing across the ruins. And soon, voices joined in unison, rising higher and higher.
"Archduke Michael Einhart Delcra!"
"Our true lord!"
"Our savior!"
The chant shook the air, a tidal wave of devotion.
Kael stood stunned, his heart heavy as he looked at the sea of kneeling figures. He had never sought this. Never asked for it. Yet the weight of their respect pressed upon him, undeniable, unshakable.
From the far end of the courtyard, Reinhardt stood among the workers. His golden hair caught the glow of the light, his green eyes fixed firmly on Kael. For a moment, he simply watched, silent, as the man he had once sworn to protect stood recognized by all.
There was no jealousy in his gaze—only pride.
A faint smile curved his lips, soft and sure. He lowered his voice, speaking words meant only for himself.
"That's my friend."
And as the cheers roared on, Kael's sword continued to glow faintly in his hand, a reminder that even in this moment of coronation, he was not alone.
-----------------------------------------
The tent was quiet. The only sound was the faint rustle of the canvas and the soft crackle of torches outside.
Kael sat propped against the pillows, his sword resting across his knees. The faint shimmer of its steel seemed to pulse with life. Reinhardt sat beside him, silent and steady as ever, while Robert and Elric sat opposite, waiting.
Robert looked healthier now. His pallor had vanished, his chest no longer strained with pain. Yet his hands rested uneasily on his lap, fidgeting as though bracing himself for whatever Kael was about to say.
Kael's eyes lowered to the blade. He exhaled softly, then raised his gaze to the three before him.
"There is something you need to know," he began, his voice low and steady. "I remember who the dragon really is."
The air stilled. Robert blinked, caught off guard, while Elric's lips parted, a question caught on her tongue. Even Reinhardt's eyes shifted slightly, though he remained silent.
Robert tilted his head, confusion flickering in his emerald eyes. "What do you mean? Everyone knows about the dragon. He's always been the Guardian of Delcra."
Kael shook his head slowly. His gaze dropped to the floor, heavy with memory. "…No. You know him as the guardian. But I knew him as Licht. He was my friend… since I was a child."
The weight of the words stunned them into silence. Robert's eyes widened, while Elric's hand covered her mouth. Reinhardt alone remained still, though his gaze sharpened.
Finally, Reinhardt spoke. His voice was quiet but firm. "If he was your friend… then why did he attack you when we first met him?"
Kael's hand tightened faintly on the sword. He kept his eyes lowered. "…He was controlled by the demon army. They gave him false memories—memories of a family he never had, and hatred he never carried. That's why he could not remember me."
He raised a trembling hand and brushed the flat of the blade with his fingers. At his touch, the steel pulsed faintly with light.
"This sword was forged from Licht's tear," Kael whispered. "He gave it to me as a gift… a farewell gift before I left for the palace."
Robert and Elric both stared at the glow, awe and sorrow etched in their faces.
Kael continued, his tone heavier, more distant. "He waited for me until the end. But I never searched for him. And when the demons chained him, he tore away part of his soul… and placed it here." He lifted the blade slightly, letting them see it catch the light. "What you call a miracle—the healing of your wounds—it was not me. It was Licht. His soul remains in this sword. If you must give thanks… then thank him."
The tent fell quiet again. Robert lowered his gaze, guilty tears brimming in his eyes. Elric bit her lip, fighting the tremble in her hands.
Reinhardt finally broke the silence. His expression softened, his voice firm but respectful. "…That is why you wanted the dragon's remains to be buried with honor. Not as a beast defeated in battle, but as a friend laid to rest."
Kael inclined his head faintly. "…Yes."
Reinhardt nodded once. "Then it will be done. I will give the order myself."
A shadow of relief passed through Kael's gaze. "…Thank you."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Elric's voice broke through, cautious but insistent. "Is that all you remember?"
The question hung in the air. Both Robert and Reinhardt turned their eyes toward him, hope glimmering in their faces.
Kael avoided their stares. His shoulders stiffened. Slowly, he gave the smallest of nods. "…That was all."
Silence fell again, heavy and unsatisfying. Disappointment lingered in the air, though none of them dared to press further.
Kael's gaze shifted, catching a glimmer of his reflection in a polished fragment of metal near his bedside. His eyes traced the strands of his hair—white streaked now with black.
His hand lifted, brushing the darker strands between his fingers.
And he remembered. The words in his dream, spoken with tearful eyes and steady voice:
"Please… continue to live as Kael. That is my wish."
His reflection stared back at him, pale and weary, yet carrying a past not entirely his own. Kael's lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. His hand lowered slowly, his gaze falling with quiet sadness.
He said nothing more.
And the tent filled only with silence once again.
-----------------------------------------
The night was quiet, except for the faint sound of soldiers still repairing what the cult had destroyed. A cool breeze brushed past the Delcra tents, carrying the scent of burnt wood and earth.
Reinhardt stepped out from Kael's tent, his cloak shifting in the wind. Elric followed closely behind him, her eyes glancing back once more at the faint glow of the tent where Kael rested.
Reinhardt's face was unreadable, but Elric could tell what was circling in his thoughts. His silence was never empty—always deliberate.
Finally, his low voice broke the quiet.
"Now… most of the people in this land know Kael is still alive." His gaze lifted toward the moon, its silver light tracing the edge of his sharp features.
Elric frowned, unease filling her chest. "Rumors spread faster than fire. If the word of the hero's survival reaches beyond Delcra… What should we do? I don't think you can even control this kind of rumor."
Reinhardt's jaw tightened. He turned toward her, his eyes steady.
"I need to hurry and prepare for his return before this rumor reaches that dog's ears."
She understood instantly—he meant the council, the ministers, and the parasites at court who waited for a chance to drag him down.
Elric's hands tightened around her sleeves. Her worry slipped into her voice.
"You mean… Kael has to return to his true duty?" Her tone trembled slightly. "He's still weak, Reinhardt. You saw him—he can barely stand without help. The cultists will not stop. Once they learn he survived… they'll come for him again. Today they nearly succeeded."
Her words hung heavy between them. Reinhardt didn't respond immediately. His silence was not denial—merely acknowledgment. Deep down, he knew she was right. But he was no longer the coward prince who once hid behind walls and shadows. He was now Emperor. And as Emperor, he could not falter.
At last, his voice came, resolute.
"That's why you are here." He turned fully to her, his tone sharp and commanding. "You must prepare him. Protect him if you can. But remember, Elric…" His gaze hardened, piercing. "I chose you to be his partner—not him."
The words struck deeper than any blade. Elric bit her lip, her chest tightening. Partner. Political partner, not beloved. The reminder stung, though she already knew the truth. Her voice wavered, but she steadied it, refusing to show weakness before him.
"I know. You don't need to remind me."
For a moment, Reinhardt simply studied her, as though gauging her resolve. Then, slowly, his gaze returned to the moonlit sky.
"Our duty never ends, Elric," he murmured. "But our priority must remain ensuring Kael's safety. That… is the most selfish wish we are allowed."
The words carried a weight she could not ignore. Duty chained them both, yet at the center of it all stood Kael—fragile, haunted, and yet the pillar they both swore to protect.
Reinhardt exhaled heavily, his breath fogging slightly in the cold. His voice dropped lower, carrying the tone of both command and concern.
"Before he officially returns, we must prepare. Every step, every whisper, every move must be controlled. And after that—" he paused, reluctant, but firm—"to strengthen his seat in the royal court, he will need to marry you. A true noble."
Elric stiffened. The logic was undeniable. Kael, for all the awe he inspired, was still an orphan by blood—a commoner raised with no noble lineage to anchor him in the ruthless court. Without marriage into nobility, the council would tear him apart the moment he stepped into the palace halls.
But still… to bind him in such a way, while he was still broken, still bleeding inside—her heart twisted at the thought. She lowered her gaze, concealing her emotions.
"…I understand."
Reinhardt's eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, softer now, though his face betrayed nothing. Then he turned once more to the moonlit horizon.
The night stretched on, carrying with it unspoken worries, heavy choices, and the silent weight of what was yet to come.
Inside the tent, Kael's reflection still stared back at him from the small polished metal at his bedside, black strands weaving slowly back into his white hair. His world remained wordless, yet every silence carried the burden of memory, grief, and the fragile thread of a destiny he never asked for.
-----------------------------------------
The world was still dark, the first light of dawn yet to touch the horizon. The camp lay silent, its soldiers and servants still deep in slumber. Only the faint rustle of leaves and the soft hum of the night wind stirred the air.
Elric awoke with unease pressing on her chest. Something was wrong. She glanced toward Kael's bed—empty. Her heart skipped.
She rose quickly, but carefully, unwilling to wake the others. The sky was still dark, and Kael was far from healed. Where could he have gone? Fear gnawed at her—what if his wound reopened? What if the cult had returned?
She searched quietly, her steps soft against the grass. Relief washed over her when she finally spotted him near the castle's ruined garden, seated on a simple chair. His figure was pale against the dark, his posture still but fragile, as though he were caught between life and shadow.
"Kael…" she whispered as she approached, afraid to startle him. He turned slowly at her voice. His eyes reflected the dim light, distant, unreadable.
"What are you doing here, Kael?" she asked softly.
He did not speak. Instead, his gaze shifted back toward the flowers ahead. With one hand, he lifted a finger slightly, pointing toward a small group of butterflies dancing above the blossoms. Their fragile wings glimmered faintly in the moonlight.
Elric's breath eased. She walked closer and settled herself on the chair beside him. "You can't sleep?"
Kael nodded once. His silence carried a weight that pressed heavily between them.
"You need to rest properly," she said gently. "We'll prepare to leave for the Vaelthorn mansion this afternoon."
Still, he did not look at her. His eyes remained locked on the butterflies, as though searching for something hidden within their fragile wings. Deep in his heart, he searched for crimson among them—the butterfly that had once come to him in his dreams. Searching for Licht.
The silence between them grew heavy, almost unbearable. Then Kael's low voice broke it, quiet as the wind.
"…Licht. At first, he appeared in my dream as a butterfly."
Elric's eyes widened slightly, her heart tightening at the rare sound of his voice. She turned toward him, listening.
"When I kept having nightmares," he continued softly, "he was always there… as if he protected me, even in my dream."
Something in her chest ached at those words. Without hesitation, she shifted closer, dragging her seat until her shoulder nearly brushed his. Her hand reached for his, wrapping gently around his cold fingers.
"Do you miss him?" she asked, almost in a whisper.
Kael stared at her hand for a long time. His lips trembled faintly. His silence stretched, then finally—
"…I… don't know." His eyes turned toward her, red glinting faintly in the dim. "…I don't understand. This feeling… I don't know why I'm sad."
Tears welled and slid down his pale cheeks, his voice breaking into silence again.
Elric's throat tightened. Carefully, she lifted her hand to brush away his tears, her touch delicate, almost reverent. "Why don't you understand? Is it… because you don't remember him?"
Kael slowly nodded, a small movement filled with weight.
Elric's lips curved into a tender, aching smile. "Do you want to know something, Kael?"
He stared at her, wordless, yet his silence invited her to go on.
"When you were in a coma… I waited for you." Her voice trembled, but no tears fell. "But one day, I realized I was starting to forget. I couldn't remember the sound of your voice… or the way your smile looked." Her grip on his hand tightened as if to anchor herself.
"I was afraid, Kael. Every day, when I came into your room, I prayed—over and over—that one day, I would hear your voice again."
Her eyes glistened in the dark, but her lips held a soft, trembling smile.
"My prayers were answered. You're here… beside me once again. But when the cultist's blade pierced your chest—when your heart stopped in front of me…" Her voice cracked, though she steadied it with a fragile smile. "…I thought I had lost you forever. I thought I would lose my mind."
Kael's eyes faltered. For the first time, his lips moved in a question, faint and raw.
"…Why?"
The single word struck deep into Elric's chest. Her breath hitched. For a moment, she could not answer—for Kael's heart was still shut away, bound in grief and shadows. But she would not turn from him.
Her hands closed over both of his, holding tightly, desperately. Her voice softened, but her conviction rang clear.
"Because you're the most important person in my life."
Kael blinked, the words sinking into him like ripples in still water.
Slowly, Elric leaned forward, her movements careful, measured, giving him every chance to pull away. Her hands brushed against his cheeks, thumbs stroking away the tears. Their faces drew closer, her breath mingling with his.
"…Can you call my name?" she whispered, her voice trembling.
Kael's fingers rose, clutching her wrist gently. His lips parted, a breath escaping.
"…Elric."
The sound of her name—his voice whispering it for the first time—shattered the restraint in her chest. Her lips curved faintly, her breath hitching, and then—slowly, carefully—her lips met his.
The kiss was gentle, trembling, fragile like the wings of a butterfly. Kael closed his eyes, receiving her touch without resistance. He did not return it, yet he did not withdraw. He could feel the tremor in her lips against his, the unspoken fear, the desperate hope, the prayer hidden in her kiss.
His hand tightened faintly around her wrist, anchoring her as if afraid she might vanish.
And in that still, hushed moment—under the dark sky and fluttering wings—Kael allowed her warmth to reach him.