The sun, high in the sky, let its rays gently fall on the citizens of Caelwyn. The grey clouds that previously hung in the sky had all moved away, revealing the bright blue skies above.
It was almost as if the sky itself had joined in the celebration of the humans below.
The heavy gates of the kingdom raised open, allowing the heroes of this war to walk through.
First came the standard bearers, the flags of Caelwyn fluttering against the wind. They were deep blue silk with silver edges, each one marked by the golden sunburst of the Goddess Elaria.
The crowd erupted into cheers as the banners passed, this was their presence, their symbol of victory, of survival.
Behind them marched the knights—armor gleaming, weapons sheathed and they carried wounds that would be considered fatal to any normal human but their faces were lifted in pride.
How could they not be?
Today was the day they made their Kingdom proud, the day they achieved what couldn't be achieved for multiple human generations, a task not even the greatest heroes could accomplish.
They had finally slain the demon king and brought an end to the war between demons and humans.
Behind the proud knights came the war priests, cloaked in white and gold, chanting hymns of Elaria as they sprinkled blessed water on the cobblestone path.
And finally, the cheers of the crowd reached its peak as the hero of this war walked through.
His armor, once glimmering silver was now filled with scorch marks and cracks, a testament to his battle.
A greater testament to the battle was his left arm—or rather, the absence of it.
This was a wound that would be considered fatal to even magic Knights, but Leon Castiel was anything but a normal magic Knight.
Blessed by the goddess herself, Leon was capable of feats impossible to even magic Knights, so a missing arm was nothing but a slight bigger, slightly annoying scratch.
Sheathed on his back was Solbrand, a holy sword capable of reducing demons to nothing but ash.
Even with all the battles Leon had been through, the holy sword's crystal like structure still held the same golden glow as the day it chose him.
But the attention of all who stood around was drawn to his right hand—or more precisely, to what he held in it. Clutched in his bloodstained gauntlet was the severed head of the Demon King.
Malphas
He was a demon who, due to the ageless nature of his kind, had terrorized humanity and the other races for centuries.
Hearing that the Demon King was dead and seeing proof of it were two entirely different things.
The head in Leon's hand was proof that the demon king was nothing more than a nightmare of the past.
"He really did it."
"By the Goddess... it's over."
"The monster is dead."
"Long live Leon the hero of light."
It was unknown who started the cheer, but soon after, the entire Caelwyn rang with one chant,
"Long live Leon, the hero of light."
Hearing their cheering, Leon turned to the crowd and offered them a smile. A smile which caused the hearts of the young madiens in the crowd to flutter.
Even with all his battle scars and missing arm, there was still the undeniable fact that Leon was extremely handsome.
His black hair was not uncommon, but the way it caught the light made it seem regal. As if no one else deserved a head of black hair if they were not him.
Loose strands fell across his brow, just enough to soften the sharp lines of his face, though nothing could hide the battle-worn exhaustion in his silver eyes.
So it was understandable why the single and even some married women turned as red as a tomato as soon as he showed them that smile.
A smile that a certain royal maiden didn't appreciate being shown to someone else that wasn't her.
From the marble balcony overlooking the courtyard, Princess Seraphina Aldred, younger sister of King Aldred watched, her blue eyes narrowed as Leon basked in the adoration of the people below.
Her golden gown shimmered under the sun, creating a perfect contrast to her long, silver-blonde hair that cascaded down her back.
A circlet of sunstone sat upon her brow, a symbol of her divine lineage as a direct descendant of Elaria's chosen bloodline. She stood as the very image of nobility, grace, and restraint.
But grace did little to hide the subtle twitch at the corner of her lips.
Her fingers gripped the edge of the balcony just a bit too tightly.
It wasn't jealousy. Of course not. That would be undignified.
It was... annoyance. Yes, Irritation.
How could he smile like that at random peasant girls? That smile was only meant for her and her alone.
She didn't want to admit it, but she had waited for this moment, waited for his triumphant return. Waited to be the first to greet him with pride in her heart and warmth in her voice.
And instead, he was down there grinning like a fool while half the city melted into puddles at his feet.
"Your Highness," came a soft voice beside her.
It was Lady Veina, her handmaid and most trusted confidant. She'd known Seraphina since childhood, and knew the signs well.
"He just returned from war," Veina offered gently. "Let him have this moment."
Seraphina immediately blushed, realizing her not-so-well-hidden jealousy had been noticed.
A fact she seemed to forget, however, was that Veina knew her better than anyone—perhaps too well.
"Well he could have at least looked up," she muttered under her breath.
"He hasn't even reached the steps yet." Viena reminded causing her to pout.
"Still." She added.
Down below, Leon continued forward, ascending the steps toward the King's dais.
As he approached, the royal guards parted to make way. The fanfare slowed to a stop.
King Alexander Aldred raised his hands, and the crowd obeyed, falling into respectful silence.
King Aldred, like Seraphina had a head full of silver blonde hair and blue gem like eyes, one that seem to hold only pride for his soldiers.
Leon bowed respectfully, placing the head of the demon king before the King.
The king rose from his throne and slowly approached the bowing Leon. Stopping a few inches, he looked at the bloody trophy presented before him.
Then, slowly, Aldred looked up at Leon. His expression was unreadable for a moment. And then he smiled.
"You have done what generations before you could not," Aldred said, his voice enhanced by magic, so that all in the square could hear. "You have gifted us peace from a neverending war."
A round of respectful applause followed. Aldred then gestured to the priests beside him.
"Let this day be recorded as a holy day of light. Let the deeds of Leon Castiel be etched into our tomes, sung by our minstrels, and praised in the temples of Elaria herself."
The priests nodded and one of them, an elder man with a long beard and long white robes, stepped forward with a golden medallion encrusted with the sunstone. He presented it on a velvet cushion.
"In recognition of your divine valor," the king continued, "you shall bear the title Radiant Champion of the Crown, protector of Caelwyn and her people."
Taking the medallion from the cushion, Aldred ordered Leon to rise before he stepped forward and pinned it to his chest, just above his heart.
"In your honor, and in the honor of all who bled and endured for this victory," the king proclaimed, in a deep voice "tonight, all of Caelwyn shall celebrate this victory."
The crowd burst into cheers once again, this time louder and a lot more unrestrained.
"The palace shall hold a ball tomorrow night!" King Aldred declared, his voice booming with joy. "A feast to honor the fallen, a dance to celebrate the living, and a night of light to mark the dawn of a new era."