The morning sun crept weakly over Balmount, illuminating the vast expanse of ruin. Knights, few and weary, combed through the destroyed streets in silence, searching for any trace of life. The wind that swept through the broken city carried with it the scent of ash and sorrow.
Inside the shattered Council Chamber, a sliver of sunlight pierced the wreckage and fell across the massive table that had once held the weight of the realm's decisions. Dust danced lazily in the beam. Thorn sat rigidly in his chair, his one remaining arm resting heavily on the table. His eyes were shadowed, unfocused, the stillness around him heavy with exhaustion.
Beside him, Morganna sitting quietly, her brow furrowed with concern. She knew he had not slept. His battle was not with blades now, but with grief and the crushing responsibility that followed it. She had tried to lead him to rest, to pull him away from the ghosts that lingered here, but he would not move. Losing a friend like Subaru is tearing him apart.
Her hand drifted to her stomach for a brief moment before she caught herself. The secret of her pregnancy pressed against her heart like a second weight. Not yet. He cannot bear it now.
Footsteps echoed softly from the entrance. Two Knights stepped inside, their armor scratched and dulled by battle. They bowed silently before withdrawing to the walls. Thorn did not acknowledge them.
Moments later, the Countess, Lucian, Eryndor, and Cassian entered. Each paused upon seeing their King. The grim intensity in his sleepless eyes left no room for ceremony. They bowed to Morganna, who returned the gesture with quiet grace, and then took their seats.
The air was thick, heavy with unspoken death and the remnants of shadow.
Thorn broke the silence first. His voice was low, stripped of warmth. "How is the situation going on with the people?"
Eryndor, always cautious and formal, instinctively started to rise before Thorn's sharp tone stopped him cold.
"Sit and talk."
Eryndor adjusted in his seat, lowering his gaze respectfully. "The people… some seem fine, Your Majesty, while others are still trying to cope. The memory of death—and the strange return to life—has unsettled many."
Thorn raised an eyebrow, a small but chilling motion that silenced the hall. His gaze shifted toward Morganna. The sharpness in his eyes seemed to pierce straight through her calm composure.
"Why did you not tell me that the people were affected by it?"
Morganna's reply was steady, her tone firm but not defensive. "The only reason I did not tell you was because you were mourning." She saw the argument rising in his eyes and cut him off with quiet authority. "And because I had already handled half of the situation. Those whose minds were strong have begun to recover. But the others…" She paused, her eyes softening. "The others are still damaged. With care and patience, they will heal fully."
Thorn exhaled slowly, the edge of anger fading into fatigue. He turned back to Eryndor. "And the people… what was their reaction to our current situation?"
Eryndor hesitated before answering. "Some were angry, my King. They questioned our ability to protect them, to rule them even. But others mostly did not speak. They understand that we did all that could be done. They grieve in their own ways. With time and resources, I believe we can guide them through these passing days."
Thorn leaned back slightly, resting his chin on his hand. His eyes lowered to the table as he murmured, "I thought it was only those at the battleground who witnessed death. I did not know it reached the whole kingdom…"
A heavy silence filled the chamber. The realization pressed down on him like an iron weight.
"This truly will be painful," he said quietly. "And for those who still question our capability…" He raised his gaze, the faint glint of command returning to his eyes. "What have you done to them? For what we need now is order, not chaos."
Before Eryndor could answer, the Countess raised her hand gracefully, even amid the exhaustion that dulled her usual poise. Thorn gave her a silent nod to speak.
"For those who have been questioning our authority," she began, her tone calm but carrying a sharp edge, "they have been separated from the others. I would have personally dealt with them, but as Eryndor says, everyone grieves in their own way."
Thorn leaned forward slightly, his gaze narrowing. "Is that so?" His voice was laced with quiet suspicion. "And you, Countess... Have you lost anyone, since you are so eager to deal with those who question the Council's power?"
The Countess lowered her eyes, her expression softening. Her voice trembled — just enough to sound sincere. "Yes, I did. One of my own. He died defending us from the beast that broke through the safe house's barriers. He bought us time, but even then... even I would have perished if not for the Sin of Greed."
Thorn's eyes sharpened. "The Sin of Greed? Saved you?"
"Yes," she answered, her tone quieter now, "but—"
Lucian's voice cut in, calm but heavy with conviction. "Even I, my King, was saved by him."
The chamber stilled. Thorn's gaze moved between Lucian and the Countess. Morganna remained silent, her expression confirming the truth behind their words. Thorn's thoughts tightened. Why would Greed save them? What purpose does it serve?
"What happened during the time he saved you?" Thorn pressed.
Lucian straightened, his tone precise and practical. "It was during the battle's peak. I was cornered by a minotaur. Before it could strike, its body ruptured from within…a sudden, unseen force. I realized later it was his doing. He saved everyone caught in that part of the battleground. At first, I believed he killed the Knights beside me, but it turned out he had simply forced them into an unconscious state… like a deep sleep."
Thorn exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming faintly on the table. "He must have an agenda."
"My King," Eryndor said carefully, his tone formal but hesitant, "I believe you may be right. However… it was also him who tended to the people last night, and when you were asleep. If not for him — and for Lady Morganna — the kingdom would have fallen into chaos. He was the one who calmed the initial panic, before leaving the rest to the Countess's hands."
Thorn turned toward Morganna, his voice quieter now, though the weight in it remained. "What do you think about the situation?"
Morganna's expression didn't waver. "It may sound absurd, but it is the truth. He helped me calm the people's minds. He was… deeply involved in cleansing the memories of those who suffered."
Thorn's tone hardened. "And you allowed it?"
"I could not have refused," Morganna said plainly, meeting his gaze. "I had already healed those missing limbs, those near death. My strength was nearly gone. When he offered to assist, I accepted…but I stayed to watch. I would not let him twist their minds. From his own words, he said he would not dare attempt such a thing, for it would upset his master."
"This master he speaks of," Thorn murmured, his voice low, thoughtful. "Who does he mean? Kibo… or the DeathGod that resides within him?"
Lucian spoke up immediately, his tone clear and grounded. "The DeathGod is still alive, my King."
Thorn's gaze shifted between the three council members. "You didn't know?"
They exchanged uneasy glances before shaking their heads.
"No, my King," Lucian confirmed, his voice steady but respectful. "Lady Morganna only mentioned that the war was over. We assumed Lord Reaper must have destroyed it… since he died in the end."
Thorn leaned back, exhaling heavily. The air in the chamber thickened with the weight of his next words. "You assumed wrong. I assumed wrong. Subaru died… we all did… and yet we came back. It wasn't until we saw Subaru's grandson…consumed by that same darkness…that we understood. The DeathGod's aura was there, within him, wrapped around him like a shroud."
The Countess pressed a trembling hand to her lips, her eyes wide. Lucian sat frozen, his usual composure cracking. Eryndor shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Thorn's stare.
Lucian finally broke the silence, his voice lower now, almost hesitant. "Then… are we safe?"
Thorn's answer came after a pause. "I don't know."
That admission seemed to chill the room.
The Countess's voice wavered. "My King, wouldn't it be wiser to end the—"
Thorn's eyes lifted sharply. His next words came quietly, but the tone was lethal. "If anybody dares to lay a hand on that boy, I will end them myself."
The Countess's breath hitched, fear flashing across her face. She looked away.
"Do all of you here understand me?" Thorn's gaze swept across the room.
The three answered, slow and subdued. "Yes, my King."
Morganna pressed forward then, her tone soft but firm. "Then what of the other rulers? They will surely hear of this, one way or another."
Thorn's expression darkened. "I know. But they won't hear everything. What matters now is restoring our kingdom's strength…not inviting more turmoil. Dreadholm already lost its ruler. If the other kingdoms discover that Kibo carries the DeathGod, we cannot predict how they will respond."
Eryndor, still hesitant, finally spoke. "What about the boy, my King? Where is he now?"
"In one of the castle's chambers," Thorn replied. "He's sleeping. No one is to see him. Greed should be by his side."
Morganna's concern deepened. "Then shouldn't we tell them about Greed's condition?"
Thorn let out a long, tired sigh before turning to face them again. "Yes. They must know." His voice steadied, regaining its authority. "From what I know, the Sin of Greed is no longer a Sin… but a Demon King."
A collective gasp filled the chamber. The Countess's hand tightened on the edge of the table. Eryndor blinked rapidly, disbelief flickering across his normally composed face. Lucian, ever the practical one, was the first to find his words.
"A Demon King…" he repeated, his tone unsteady for the first time. "How is that possible? What—"
"I do not know, and I do not wish to think further on it," Thorn said, cutting Lucian short. His tone was heavy but controlled. "From his patterns, and from what you have all said, he would not act against the will of his master."
The Countess folded her hands on the table, her voice soft but probing. "DeathGod or Kibo, my King? Which is the master?"
Thorn's silence lingered before he answered quietly, "I do not know." His eyes drifted toward the ruined window where the weak sunlight filtered through dust. "But the news of us knowing about the Demon King should remain between us. Let the other rulers find out on their own. We cannot afford another storm of panic."
A long silence stretched between them, thick and uneasy.
Then a voice broke through the stillness. "Forgive the interruption."
Bram stood by the doorway, held back by the two Knights on guard.
Thorn straightened in his seat. "Bram, what is it? Has something happened?"
The Knights stepped aside to let him through. Bram approached with measured steps, his face solemn. "No trouble, Thorn. Only a message." He reached into his pocket and drew out a faintly glowing orb, clear as water. "Old Man Wu wishes to speak with you."
Thorn blinked in mild surprise, the fatigue in his eyes softening for the first time. "Old Man Wu…" He leaned back, a distant ache tugging at his voice.
Bram placed the orb before him. Thorn hesitated for a moment, then lifted it in his hand. "Old Man Wu, are you there?"
A pulse of light rippled across the orb, and a rough yet warm voice crackled through. "Ah, Thorn. You sound tired. I heard about everything. How are you holding up?"
Thorn hesitated, taken aback by the genuine concern. "Everything is… slowly coming back into order."
A long exhale echoed faintly from the other side. "Hmm. If that is what you say, then I'll believe it for now. Listen, by evening there will be a burial ceremony for Subaru. I'll need your help in opening a portal. Until then, we must speak…about what needs to be done to mend your kingdom. It was one of Subaru's last wishes."
Thorn froze, his heart tightening. Subaru's last wish? He knew he was going to die?
Wu's voice seemed to cut through his thoughts, sharp yet calm. "Don't dwell on that now. I will explain everything to you later, and you may ask whatever questions you have. Until then, Bram will tell you when to open the portal to my workshop."
The light within the orb dimmed slowly until it faded entirely. Thorn sat still for a moment, the faint echo of Wu's voice lingering in his mind. He exhaled deeply and passed the orb back to Bram.
Eryndor broke the silence first, his voice careful. "What next, my King?"
"For now," Thorn said, regaining his composure, "the people come first. Once I have spoken with Old Man Wu, I will give you your orders." He paused, then continued with quiet authority. "Deploy the Knights. I want every trace of those covenant remnants purged from the kingdom. And as for Varian…from what your Queen has told me you already know…he must be found. If he is not, then we can only assume he has left the kingdom."
Eryndor bowed his head respectfully. "Understood, my King."
Thorn motioned with his hand, signaling dismissal. The three council members rose from their seats, each bowing before departing.
Morganna stood as well. "I would also like to be excused, my King."
Thorn gave a faint nod. Morganna bowed gracefully and turned to leave. At the doorway, she stopped and looked back. "Countess, follow me."
The Countess hesitated briefly, then obeyed. The two Knights followed behind them, their footsteps echoing softly through the ruined chamber until silence returned.
Now, only Thorn and Bram remained.
Bram took a slow seat across from him. "Thorn, how are you holding up, truly?"
Thorn lowered his head until his forehead rested against the cold table. His voice came muffled, raw. "Barely. But what else can I do… except keep moving?"
Bram's expression softened. "I know it's hard. Morganna says you haven't rested at all. I know you're in pain, Thorn. We all are. Even I—"
"Please, Bram." Thorn's voice cracked slightly. "Just… leave me alone for now. I need to think. I need to think."
Bram rose slowly, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. "I understand. If you ever wish to speak, you know where to find me. I'll always be here."
Thorn gave no reply, and Bram quietly exited the chamber.
The silence that followed was immense. Thorn remained still, his head still resting on the table. He closed his eyes, the weight of the world pressing on his chest.
"Subaru…" he whispered into the emptiness. "If it were you… what would you have done?"
~~~~~~~
Bram walked through the ruined hallway, his footsteps echoing softly against the cracked stone. His mind was heavy — not with thoughts of politics or order, but of Thorn, who was breaking in silence behind a king's face.
He reached the door to the room where the children rested and pushed it open gently.
Inside, the faint light of dawn filtered through the broken window. Lily and Syl sat close beside Kibo's bed, their faces pale from exhaustion. Kibo lay still, his breathing slow and steady, his body wrapped in faint threads of light that flickered every so often — remnants of the healing Morganna had left behind.
Across the room, Greed sat in the corner, his form half hidden in shadow. His eyes reflected the dim light, calm yet impossible to read. The air in the room felt heavy, as though even it grieved.
When Bram entered, both girls looked up at him. Their eyes were red from crying, their voices hoarse.
Bram spoke softly. "He still hasn't woken up?"
Lily shook her head, her small voice barely audible. "No… not yet."
Bram's gaze moved from Kibo to Greed, his expression hardening. "Do you know what's wrong with him?"
Greed tilted his head slightly, that same small smile curving his lips. "No, I do not. What Master needs is rest. He will wake when his spirit allows him to."
The way he said Master made something tighten in Bram's chest. There was no mockery in Greed's tone — only certainty, the kind that carried both reverence and danger. Bram studied him a moment longer, then exhaled quietly. He didn't trust the demon king, but right now there was nothing he could do.
He turned to the girls again. "Where is Sora?"
Lily's voice trembled as she answered. "She's with Grandpa."
Bram nodded faintly. He knew what that meant. Sora had always carried herself like steel — cold, guarded, trying to be unshakable. But when it came to Subaru, that wall was fragile glass. He looked once more at Kibo's still form, then quietly stepped out, closing the door behind him.
The corridor outside was dim and silent. His boots clicked softly on the cracked floor as he made his way toward the special chamber — the place where Subaru's body rested.
As he neared, he heard a sound. A small, broken whisper carried through the door.
"Granduncle… do you remember the time when you were with me and Ayaka? You tried your best to make us happy when Yami bullied us… You said you would always be with us… so why aren't you here now?"
Bram's chest tightened. He slowly pushed the door open.
Inside, the light was faint — a single candle flickered beside Subaru's body, its flame dancing weakly in the still air. Sora sat beside him; her hand wrapped around his cold one. Her shoulders shook, her head bowed. The sight tore something deep inside Bram.
"Why did you leave us, Granduncle?" she whispered again, her voice cracking.
Bram stepped closer, his steps slow and measured, not wanting to startle her.
When she turned her head toward him, he saw her face — eyes swollen from tears, her usual sharpness gone. She looked like a child who had lost her entire world.
"Sora," he said quietly. Her name felt heavy on his tongue.
She tried to speak, but her voice broke before words could form.
Bram knelt beside her and gently pulled her into his arms. For a heartbeat she was still — then all at once, she collapsed against him, the sobs breaking free.
"Uncle Bram… Granduncle is truly gone… What are we going to do?" Her words came in bursts, muffled against his shoulder. "He promised… he said he'd stay with us no matter what…"
Bram held her tightly, one hand on her back, his own throat burning. "I know," he murmured, his voice low and trembling. "I know, Sora. We'll find a way through this. I promise you, we will."
But his words only made her cry harder. It wasn't comfort she wanted — it was the voice she would never hear again. The laugh that filled every quiet space. The warmth that made even fear seem small.
Bram could feel her pain in every trembling breath. He looked past her to Subaru's still form — peaceful, pale, unyielding to the world that still moved without him.
He tightened his hold around Sora, his eyes stinging. Subaru… wherever you are, please… watch over them. They still need you.
The candle flickered once more, the small flame bending as if in answer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the quiet hallway of the castle, Mael walked with clenched fists. His steps were heavy, his breathing uneven. The silence around him pressed against his thoughts, feeding the frustration he could no longer contain.
Why, Takashi… why now?
He had searched all night — the gardens, the courtyards, the battlements — but there was no sign of him. After losing their captain, after everything they had survived together, Takashi had vanished without a word. The thought made Mael's jaw tighten, his heart burning with helpless anger.
He stopped before a door — the room where Nina and Astrid were resting. For a moment he hesitated, his hand hovering near the handle. Then he took a slow breath and pushed it open.
Inside, the air was still and dim. Nina sat on the bed beside Astrid, her shoulders trembling as tears streamed down her face. Astrid sat close, her expression calm but shadowed with quiet sorrow. Beside her, the Moonbind Cord lay coiled neatly — a symbol of her power and her resolve.
Mael's voice broke the silence, raw and tense. "What's wrong?" He took a step forward, his tone thick with emotion. "Nina, why are you crying?"
Nina wiped her eyes, but the tears only kept coming. "Astrid is leaving us," she whispered.
The words hit Mael like a spark in dry grass. "What?" His voice rose sharply. "You're leaving?"
He stormed toward Astrid, his eyes burning. "Why do you want to leave? You want to run off just like Takashi?!"
Astrid did not flinch. Her voice was calm, steady, like a river against a storm. "I have to, Mael."
Her composure only enraged him further. "Why do you have to?!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. "What is wrong with both of you? We are meant to stay together! We are supposed to be together! We should be going back to the Eastern Province, back home!"
Astrid's eyes met his, soft but unwavering. "I am not going back there."
Mael froze. "What?"
"I can't return," she said quietly. "I've already done what I was meant to do. My duty there is finished." She paused, her gaze falling to Nina, whose tears had not stopped. Gently, Astrid reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "But listen to me…I advise both of you not to return to the Eastern Province. Stay here. Be part of Balmount."
Mael's expression hardened, anger flickering again. "No. We are Paladin Knights!"
Astrid looked at him sadly. "Knights, yes… but not Paladin."
The correction struck deep.
"You both joined because of Captain Mira," she continued softly. "You followed her because you believed in her light. But she's gone now. And deep down, both of you know… you don't have a path to follow anymore."
The words were like ice in Mael's chest. His anger faltered, leaving something emptier behind. She's right....
His fists loosened. The fire in his voice dulled into confusion. "If you're right," he murmured, "then what next? What are Nina and I supposed to do here? We have no place in this kingdom."
Astrid's expression softened. "You do. You just haven't seen it yet." She stood, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Stay with Lady Morganna. She was once a Paladin Knight herself. She will understand your hearts better than anyone. She will know what to do."
Her tone carried quiet conviction — not as an order, but as a plea born from care.
Nina's voice was small and trembling, like a thread of sound that could break at any moment. "Are you going back home?"
Astrid looked at her, and a gentle smile touched her lips, warm but tinged with sorrow. "Yes. I have to. There are things waiting for me… things I must address. Everything isn't over yet."
Her calm voice only made Nina's heart ache more. She threw her arms around Astrid, holding her tightly, as if afraid that if she let go, Astrid would vanish forever. "Can we come to visit?"
Astrid closed her eyes, her own arms wrapping around Nina with quiet tenderness. "Always," she whispered. "My home is yours."
For a moment, neither of them moved. The silence between them carried everything they didn't know how to say — gratitude, love, and the quiet pain of goodbye.
When Nina finally loosened her grip, Astrid brushed a tear from her cheek and turned to Mael. Her voice softened. "I am sorry, Mael."
Mael looked away, his jaw tight. "You don't have to be." His tone was flat, but beneath it was the raw edge of hurt he didn't know how to hide.
Astrid didn't argue. She only gave him that same small, knowing smile — the kind that said she understood him far better than he wanted her to. She rose to her feet and picked up her Moonbind Cord, tucking it carefully at her side, the faint shimmer of its magic fading as it settled against her hip.
"I will stay in contact with both of you," she said, her voice steady again. "As for Takashi…" she paused, a faint glint of amusement in her tired eyes, "I am sure he's fine."
Mael frowned. "And how would you know that?"
Astrid tilted her head slightly, that mysterious smile returning. "Old age, I guess."
He wanted to argue, but something in her calm stopped him. Instead, he just exhaled slowly, saying nothing.
Astrid turned toward the door, her steps light but deliberate. When she left, the room felt emptier — as though her quiet strength had been holding it together.
Mael sighed and sat beside Nina. Neither spoke for a while. The silence was heavy, but not unbearable. Then Nina reached out and gently took his hand.
He looked at her, and though her eyes were still red from crying, she gave him a small, hopeful smile. "We're still together… aren't we?"
Mael's expression softened. He squeezed her hand, his voice low but certain. "Always."
Outside the door, Astrid lingered in the hallway, her back against the wall. She had not gone far. She listened to their voices — their grief, their promise — and smiled faintly, though her eyes shimmered with quiet tears.
They'll be fine, she told herself. They have to be.
She took a deep breath and began her walk down the long corridor. Her footsteps echoed softly through the ruined halls of the castle. The journey home would be long, and her communication orb had been shattered in the last battle. Her only hope now rested with King Thorn.
As she walked, fragments of her conversation with Lady Morganna from the previous night returned to her mind — how she had revealed her true identity, how Morganna had listened with her usual composed grace before offering help. Thorn, she had said, would open a portal for her when the time came.
Now, that time had come.
When Astrid reached the Council Chamber, she stopped at the doorway. Thorn was inside, his head resting on the large table. His shoulders sagged, the weight of leadership pressing visibly upon him.
Astrid hesitated, unsure if she should disturb him.
But before she could decide, his voice cut through the silence — tired, but alert. "Who is it?"
She straightened immediately and bowed deeply. "King Thorn, I greet you."
He raised his head slowly, recognition flickering in his weary eyes. "I remember you. Raise your head."
She did so and stepped forward as he gestured for her to approach.
"What is the problem?" Thorn asked, his voice steady but tired.
Astrid stepped forward slowly, choosing her words with care. Up close, she could see the stiffness in his left arm, his severed limb. His composure was that of a king, but his weariness was plain for anyone who truly looked.
"I am sorry for disturbing your peace, King Thorn," she said softly, lowering her head. "But please… I would like to make a request."
Thorn leaned back slightly, watching her with calm curiosity. "Go on."
"It's about me returning to the Elven Kingdom," she said after a brief pause. "For that, I would need your assistance."
Thorn's brow lifted. His tone grew measured, carrying the sharp edge of authority. "And what business do you have with them?"
Astrid hesitated. Then, with quiet resolve, she lifted her gaze. "It is me… Helianthra."
For a moment, Thorn did not move. His eyes widened faintly, recognition dawning in them. "Vaelorian's daughter?" His voice dropped, almost in disbelief. "How come?"
Astrid reached up, brushing a lock of hair from her face. As she released the subtle enchantment, her human disguise melted away — her ears elongating into the elegant, pointed shape of her kin. A faint light shimmered around her for a moment before fading.
"I wanted to explore the world," she said softly. "To live among humans, to understand how the Paladin Knights function…and to see if their ways were as noble as I had heard."
Thorn's expression eased into something gentler. A quiet chuckle escaped him, low and tired but genuine. "If that was your choice, then so be it. The world could use more souls who seek understanding rather than power."
He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers. Mana surged through the chamber like a deep breath, and a shimmering portal bloomed into being beside her. Its light rippled like liquid glass, the air humming softly with power.
"The portal will lead you home," Thorn said simply.
Astrid's eyes softened. She bowed deeply, her voice carrying both gratitude and sympathy. "Thank you, King Thorn. And… I am truly sorry for your loss. My Papa often told me how close you and Lord Reaper once were."
Thorn's gaze drifted toward the far wall, as if his mind wandered to a place far beyond the room. A small smile ghosted across his face. "He did say that. Tell your old man he had better be ready to accept my advances when next we meet."
Astrid chuckled quietly, the sound like a faint bell — warm, yet wistful. She understood the teasing fondness between the two leaders. "I will tell him," she promised.
She turned to face the portal, the light reflecting across her hair. Then she looked back one last time and gave a small wave. "Until we meet again."
Thorn raised his hand slightly in farewell, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
The light swallowed her figure, and the portal snapped shut with a gentle hum, leaving behind nothing but stillness.
For a moment, Thorn sat there, the silence pressing in on him. Then he exhaled softly and sank back into his chair, the warmth of the brief encounter fading like the last spark of a dying flame.