The next day
The golden sun had begun to rise over Angelis, casting long shadows across the ruined remnants of the once-proud imperial banquet halls. What should've been a celebration etched into history had instead become a scar across the capital's heart.
Today, the heroes would return home—not in triumph, but in silence.
Noah stood at the edge of the palace courtyard, his gaze fixed on the sky. The scent of ashes still lingered in the air, but it wasn't the smoke that weighed on his chest—it was memory. The screams. The blood. The lives lost under a moonlit ambush.
He took a deep breath. The warmth of the morning couldn't chase away the cold in his soul.
Behind him, the heavy doors of the palace opened with a low groan. A line of attendants waited near the silver-etched carriage.
Scarlett stood to the side, adjusting the hilt of her blade. Lyra leaned against a marble pillar, quietly observing him. Layla was nowhere in sight—but she never let him out of hers for long.
Their bags were packed. The farewell had come.
The Emperor himself had arranged their departure as a gesture of thanks. His pride as ruler had suffered, but he wasn't so arrogant as to deny those who had defended his people. A grander reward would likely come later. For now—he offered respect.
"Are you ready?" Scarlett asked, breaking the silence.
Noah nodded, but didn't speak.
Moments later, a soft pair of footsteps approached from behind.
"Leaving without saying goodbye?" came a calm, familiar voice.
He turned.
Charlotte stood beneath the stone archway, dressed not in royal finery, but in a simple white dress. Her long blonde hair fell loose, and her eyes—those deep, void-like eyes—were unreadable.
Noah's expression didn't change. "You came."
"I always do," she replied softly. "But… not always at the right time."
A long silence stretched between them, filled only by the flutter of flags in the distance.
"Thank you," she said at last.
Noah blinked. "For what?"
"For saving the capital… for protecting me," she whispered. "Even after everything I did—what I said—you still stood up when no one else could."
He didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Charlotte stepped closer, stopping just a few feet away.
"My birthday banquet was supposed to be… something beautiful," she continued. "A new chapter. But instead, people died. Because of me."
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her dress.
"I'll carry that guilt. I won't ask you to forgive me. I know I lost that right long ago."
She reached into her sleeve and pulled out a small velvet box.
"This was your gift. I had it made before the banquet. I know it's meaningless now, but…"
She extended it toward him.
Noah hesitated, then took it.
Inside was a pendant—an obsidian crystal framed by silver, with the symbol of a sword piercing through a star.
"It's my family Insignia," Charlotte explained. "It will grant you any one request directly from the Emperor."
Noah closed the box gently.
"Are you sure about this?" he said quietly.
Charlotte nodded. "Yes."
They stood there, not as lovers, not even as close friends—but as two people bound by the past and reshaped by tragedy.
She stepped back. "May your path be brighter than mine, Noah Von Augustus."
He gave a slight bow—nothing more.
Then turned and walked away.
The carriage wheels rolled through the cracked streets of Angelis. Soldiers lined the roads. Civilians stood quietly on balconies. Some bowed. Some simply watched.
No cheers. No parade.
Just silence.
By the time they crossed the outer gates of the capital, the sun had fully risen, chasing shadows into corners.
Noah didn't look back.
Augustus Estate – That Evening
The estate stood like a stone giant carved into the hills—ancient, noble, untouched by the chaos that swept the capital.
Guards opened the gates with reverence, and servants hurried to greet their young master's return. But there was no celebration, no music.
Only nods. Only respect.
Inside, Noah's mother embraced him tightly, tears threatening to fall but never spilling. His father—stoic as ever—clapped a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You made us proud," he said simply.
Noah gave a small smile. But his mind was elsewhere.
That night, after everyone had retired, he slipped away into the manor's underground training chamber.
It was quiet there. Cold.
He stood in the center of the stone floor, removed his shirt, and stared at the scars still etched into his skin.
The dragon's words echoed again.
"Power without control is just as dangerous as having none at all."
Noah clenched his fist. The air around him shimmered.
Fwoosh—
The Azure Flame ignited in his palm, wild and unruly. Its blue light danced violently, crackling with raw, divine energy.
He tried to contain it.
Tried to mold it.
But it pushed back.
BANG!
The flame exploded outward, knocking him to one knee.
His breath came in ragged gasps. Sweat trickled down his face.
Still too wild…
Still not enough.
He stayed on his knees, head bowed, fist clenched.
"I won't lose control again."
He stood.
"I'll master you."
He raised his hand again.
The flame sparked to life once more—smaller, steadier.
He held it longer this time before it faltered.
And again.
And again.
Long into the night.
To be continued..