As Noceron's body slowly faded away, Lusian felt the tension leaving his chest.
But the relief did not last long.
Concern about what would come next struck him again.
If the gods could bless heroes and push them beyond the limits of humanity...
What would happen the day they turned their eyes toward him?
That victory did not mean much.
It was merely preparation for a conflict that, sooner or later, might come.
Although his goal remained avoiding a war, nothing guaranteed that he would succeed.
Lusian slowly lowered his gaze toward Noceron's corpse.
He had won.
But it had been too close.
Not because he did not know the battle.
But because he had trusted too much in what he thought he remembered.
The sequence works.
Almost.
It was practically the same battle he had played hundreds of times.
The same attacks.
The same patterns.
The same transformation.
The same final attack.
But there were differences.
Small ones.
Small enough to go unnoticed.
And important enough to have cost him his life.
I can't keep treating this like it's the game.
Lusian slowly exhaled.
The tension began to leave his shoulders.
The valley fell silent.
Noceron's residual mana slowly dispersed into the air, leaving behind a heavy and uncomfortable calm.
Dainslein was still in his hand.
Lusian lowered his gaze toward the blade.
Darkness was still slowly coursing across its surface.
For several seconds, he remembered that sensation.
The ease with which it had pierced the light.
The way Noceron's defense had yielded.
And, above all, that strange feeling that the sword had responded on its own.
He frowned.
Maybe it was my affinity.
He could find no other explanation.
Not yet.
He descended to the ground with difficulty.
His muscles trembled from exhaustion and the brutal surge of mana his body had endured.
Then he heard footsteps.
Sophia slowly approached.
Her eyes traveled over her son's body from head to toe, almost instinctively checking that he was still in one piece.
Her heart was still pounding.
Throughout the entire battle, she had been prepared to intervene with her three magical beasts if Lusian fell.
But it had never been necessary.
Over the past four months, since his return from the capital, he had changed.
He had trained until exhaustion.
Hunted.
Learned to control his mana.
He had grown.
And she had been there to watch it happen.
Sophia gently took him by the arm.
Only then did she allow some of the tension to leave her face.
"Are you all right... son?"
Lusian slowly let out a breath.
"Yes, Mother. I'm fine."
He smiled, although his exhaustion was obvious.
"I only did what you taught me."
Sophia gently shook her head as she adjusted some of his hair.
"You've fought enough for today. Now it's my turn to worry about you."
Lusian let out a small, tired laugh.
"I suppose even warriors need to rest."
"And you need to do it more often," she replied, brushing his cheek.
Lusian did not answer.
He simply let her guide him.
Minutes later, he was leaning beside the warm water of the river, washing away the blood and dirt accumulated during the battle.
Steam slowly rose around his body.
"Does it hurt?" Sophia asked from the riverbank, carefully examining each wound.
"It's nothing," Lusian lied with a half-smile. "I just needed this."
Sophia remained silent for a few seconds.
Then she spoke.
"Promise me something."
Lusian barely raised his gaze.
"What?"
"Don't fight as if you're alone."
Lusian remained silent.
Sophia continued.
"This duchy exists to protect you. There are people willing to fight and die for you."
Those words caused Lusian's expression to change slightly.
That was precisely what worried him.
That someone else would end up dying because of him.
He was not sure he could live with that.
The silence between them lasted for a few moments.
Finally, Lusian slowly nodded.
"I promise."
Sophia smiled.
The valley had returned to calm.
But neither of them mistook that stillness for peace.
Lusian continued toward the duchy.
The sun was beginning to descend when the first lands belonging to House Douglas appeared on the horizon.
But at first glance, there seemed to be nothing there.
There were no flags flying above the walls.
No columns of soldiers.
Not even the watchtowers could be seen.
Lusian narrowed his eyes.
"Where are...?"
He continued forward.
Then he saw them.
A tower.
Almost completely covered in vegetation.
Vines had climbed the stone walls and covered much of the structure. From a distance, it looked like a natural formation in the terrain.
Lusian smiled faintly.
"They're still doing that."
As he drew closer, more began to appear.
Towers hidden among the trees.
Small fortifications integrated into the hills.
Watch posts built in such a way that they could barely be distinguished from the road.
It was not that the duchy had no defenses.
It simply had no need to flaunt them.
As he crossed the first roads, the difference from the capital became obvious.
There were fewer people.
But there was no chaos.
The fields were still being worked.
The warehouses remained stocked.
Carts transported sacks of grain, meat, and other supplies between the cities.
The markets were open.
There was no abundance.
But there was no hunger either.
Lusian watched the farmers working, then looked toward the walls.
With everything that's happening... they're still functioning.
It was not perfect.
There were wounded soldiers.
Houses that needed repairs.
Some roads were damaged.
But the duchy continued moving forward.
Orderly.
As if the entire region had learned to survive long before the rest of the kingdom realized it needed to.
Lusian continued along the road.
Then he remembered something.
The night.
He looked up at the sky.
The sun was about to disappear.
And little by little, the first shadows began spreading across the territory.
That was when he noticed movement along the walls.
Soldiers.
There were not many.
They carried no torches.
They made no noise.
They simply disappeared into the shadows.
Lusian watched them for several seconds.
One figure walked to the edge of a tower.
Darkness covered his body.
And he disappeared.
Lusian blinked.
"Ah..."
A smile appeared on his face.
"The hunts."
For years, House Douglas had taken advantage of one of its greatest advantages.
Darkness.
While other territories avoided venturing outside at night, the duchy's troops did exactly the opposite.
They went hunting.
Monsters approaching settlements were tracked before they could reach the cities.
Hunting parties traveled through forests, mountains, and plains for hours.
And when they found a creature...
the night became their ally.
Their bodies disappeared among the shadows.
Their footsteps became silent.
The monsters rarely knew what had attacked them.
Lusian watched as another group quietly left through one of the gates.
There were no shouts.
No ostentatious formations.
Only discipline.
So that's how they've maintained it.
It was not a perfect solution.
Monsters continued to appear.
Crops remained vulnerable.
And every night, some soldiers failed to return.
But while other territories lost entire cities trying to contain the creatures, House Douglas had found a way to turn them into resources.
Meat.
Hides.
Materials.
Everything that could be used was brought back.
That was why the warehouses remained full.
That was why the cities did not go hungry.
Lusian continued watching the distant lights of the duchy.
The capital seemed to have been devoured by chaos.
His territory, on the other hand, continued to breathe.
Not because it was safe.
But because everyone there had learned to live with danger.
Lusian slowly exhaled.
"Not bad."
And he continued toward home.
Unaware that, from one of those towers covered in vegetation, several eyes had already recognized him.
The news would not take long to spread.
The duke had returned.