The morning sun cast a golden hue over the vast lands of the former Leaf Kingdom—now a fallen relic renamed the Leaf Dukedom under Clover's dominion. The air was quiet, yet a tension lingered like the final breath before a storm. Sion stood at the highest balcony of the estate, cloaked in his new mantle of responsibility. A title granted in the aftermath of rage, blood, and undeniable resolve—he was now the Duke of Leaf.
The official announcement came quietly, within the estate's war council chamber. King Nathan, with heavy eyes and solemn voice, had appointed Sion Ragnar as the first Duke of the reclaimed territory. His rule would be absolute, under Clover's banner, and his word final within the borders.
"The people need peace," King Nathan had said. "And peace requires a leader they will fear, but follow. There's no one else, Sion."
Sion accepted with a simple nod, his face unreadable. Inside, however, a storm brewed. He wasn't seeking power—he wanted order.
That same day, he began the groundwork.
He summoned Luthor, the head butler of the Presia estate, and a dozen elite advisors. The orders were swift:
"Rebuild roads first. Reopen the granaries. Send healers to every surviving village. No one will be hungry or afraid under my rule."
The former Leaf administrative heads were brought in for evaluation. Many were dismissed or imprisoned—corrupt, complicit in the rot that once poisoned this land. Others, surprisingly loyal to the people, were offered positions under strict oversight.
While this was happening, the royal estate buzzed with new energy. Craftsmen arrived with tools. Builders with stone. Magi skilled in restoration lit up ruins that had stood cold and broken for years.
One evening, as Sion returned from inspecting a border town, he was greeted by Rebecca Esther in the estate gardens. The elven princess had shed her formal armor, wearing a soft robe bearing her royal crest.
"I never knew a human could change the fate of nations with such fury," she said with a smile. "Now I see you changing it with compassion. It's strange, but admirable."
Sion raised an eyebrow. "You flatter too easily."
"Not flattery," she replied, eyes gleaming. "Admiration. True and possibly dangerous."
Their conversation was interrupted as Mary and Janet appeared. Janet was still quiet—recovering, her steps a little hesitant, but her spirit returning slowly. She held Sion's hand tighter than before, and he didn't let go.
In the distance, Sara and Katherine watched silently from the veranda, noting the tension between the elven princess and Sion. They didn't speak, but their gazes told enough.
Later that night, Luthor entered with a sealed report—an intelligence scroll from a loyal informant.
"My lord," he said, bowing. "There are rumors… remnants of the Leaf nobility who survived. They refuse to acknowledge the fall. Some are seeking the Avalon Merchant Group's aid. They may soon resurface."
Sion didn't speak immediately. He stared out at the night, the stars above eerily still.
"Let them gather," he said finally. "This land will heal. But if they come to break what I rebuild… I will remind them why Leaf fell in a single night."
He turned back, eyes blazing softly under the moonlight.
"Start the schools. Hire teachers. And send food to every border village. This is not a kingdom of ashes anymore."
Leaf Dukedom had begun its rebirth—not through war, but through one boy's unbending will.