The capital of Grandora, known as the Crown, woke with the first light of dawn.
Streets filled with merchants shouting prices, noble carriages clattering over stone roads, and soldiers in purple-and-gold uniforms marching in formation.
Servants hurried between grand manors while commoners opened shops under the watchful eyes of imperial tax collectors.
The hierarchy was clear — the Vossarian bloodline ruled from the towering palace at the city’s heart, and every citizen knew their place beneath it.
In one of the city’s most prestigious inns, the Golden Griffin, the hero party gathered for breakfast.
The inn was a luxurious three-story building of polished white stone and dark wood, with crystal chandeliers and velvet seating.
Morning sun streamed through tall windows, illuminating tables laden with fresh bread, roasted meats, fruits, and steaming herbal tea.
Royal guards stood outside the private room, while shadow assassins watched unseen from the dark corners.
Aurora sat eating a piece of fresh bread in silence.
Opposite her were Charlotte and Morgana.
Astrid sat right beside her.
Charlotte broke the quiet first.
“So… what important news were you talking about, Princess?”
Aurora looked up at everyone.
She took a slow breath and revealed everything her mother had said in the private study — the cold plan to use Kael until the hero was fully cured, then quietly send him to the afterlife.
For a second, silence fell over the table.
Morgana’s eyes widened.
Then she let out a heavy, amused laugh.
“She wants to murder her grand-nephew once he’s no longer useful?”
Astrid’s hand slammed onto the table, making the cups rattle.
“So the Empress intends to use that trash and then dispose of him like garbage? After he… after he touches all of us?”
Aurora nodded, voice barely audible.
“Yes.”
Charlotte’s pointed ears twitched.
Her usual calm cracked.
“Everyone knew she despised him for being born mana-less… but this? To use him as a tool and then kill him in secret?” She rubbed her temple, voice tight.
“This isn’t justice. This is cold-blooded.”
Aurora’s fists clenched tighter.
“We should keep this secret from the hero. We don’t know how he’ll react… he’s already breaking.”
Morgana let out a short, dark laugh again, but there was no humor in it.
“Guilty? He’ll feel more than guilty. He’ll blame himself for every single one of us having to spread our legs for that worm. Keeping him in the dark might be the only mercy we can give him right now.”
The table fell deathly quiet.
No one touched their food anymore.
The Crown stretched endlessly under the morning sun — a vast sea of white stone spires, crowded markets, and golden banners fluttering from every tower.
Elarion walked alone through the Silver Row District, the bustling merchant quarter where he had spent his childhood.
A plain hooded cloak hid his golden armor and masked his face.
He moved like a ghost among the crowds.
Young boys, no older than ten or eleven, hauled heavy crates and swept shop fronts with tired eyes.
The sight stopped him cold.
Just like me…
He had been born to a modest merchant family.
His father spent his days buying cheap goods from the border regions and selling them here in the capital for a small profit.
Elarion remembered tagging along as a child, full of excitement.
While his father haggled with customers, he would sneak off to roam the streets, rebellious and curious.
“You’ll get yourself killed one day, boy.”
But one afternoon, during one of those secret adventures, he had spotted a royal carriage passing through the district.
Through the window, he saw her — young Princess Aurora, smiling softly at the crowd.
In that moment, he was smitten, like so many other young hearts.
He dreamed of marrying the princess one day, though he knew it was nothing more than a childish fantasy.
Then the holy sword chose him.
Everything changed overnight.
He was summoned by the empire.
The Church of Ellaria crowned him their holy son.
The people hailed him as the Hero.
Prestige, immense power, and the very woman he once thought he could only admire from afar were suddenly promised to him as his future wife.
Now it all felt like a cruel joke.
The same Goddess who had given him hope.
The same Emperor who had promised him his daughter.
Elarion stopped in the middle of the crowded street, fists clenched inside his cloak.
A bitter laugh escaped him, quiet and broken.
“What a farce,” he whispered to no one.
The hero who once believed he could have everything now walked alone, masked and hollow, while the women he loved were being taken by the one person he hated most.
Elarion kept walking through the crowded Silver Row District, hood low over his face.
A gruff shout suddenly cut through the noise.
“You little thief! Stop right there! Someone stop her!”
A heavy man in a chief’s uniform was chasing a young girl no older than ten.
She clutched a piece of stolen bread tightly to her chest, bare feet slapping against the stone street as she ran desperately.
Citizens glanced over but kept walking.
No one moved to help.
Elarion narrowed his eyes but stayed still.
Just a small scuffle, he told himself.
The girl darted past him — only for a heavy hand to snatch the back of her ragged dress, yanking her to a halt.
The bread tumbled from her grasp and hit the dirty ground.
A man in leather armor grinned down at her, sword hanging at his waist.
His eyes gleamed with amusement.
“What do we have here?” he sneered.
The girl cried as the bread lay ruined in the dirt.
The chief stopped, gasping for breath, face tense.
“Sir Vek… many thanks for stopping this little thief. Please hand her over to me. I’ll turn her over to the authorities.”
Vek looked at the chief with clear annoyance.
“Oy, fatty. Take your bread and fuck off. I’m taking this girl.”
He glanced down at the terrified child.
“She can be sold for a good penny.”
The girl cried louder.
The chief sweated, stepping forward.
“But Sir Vek, she’s just a little thief. Please… I can’t sleep knowing a child was sold into slavery because of me—”
“Fuck off before you irritate me,” Vek snapped.
“I caught this prey. She’s mine.”
Passersby slowed down.
Some whispered in pity.
Others laughed, calling it an interesting show.
He moved closer.
“Sir V—”
Before he could finish, Vek’s fist flew straight toward his face.
The chief shrieked and closed his eyes.
The impact never came.
He opened his eyes slowly.
A tall hooded man stood in front of him, one hand gripping Vek’s fist mid-air, stopping the punch cold.
Vek twitched, trying to pull his arm back, but the hooded stranger’s grip didn’t budge; his face twisted in anger.
“Who the fuck do you think you are, hooded rat? Let go before I—”
Elarion didn’t let him finish.
With a sharp twist of his wrist, he bent Vek’s arm behind his back in one fluid motion.
AHHH, the man yelped in pain as his shoulder popped.
“You caught a child stealing bread,” Elarion said quietly, voice low and cold beneath the hood.
“And your first thought was to sell her into slavery?”
He shoved Vek forward hard.
The bully stumbled and crashed into a nearby stall, knocking over crates of fruit.
Apples rolled across the dirty street.
The crowd froze, watching.
Vek scrambled up, drawing his sword with a snarl.
“I’ll gut you, you bastard—”
Elarion stepped forward once.
That was all it took.
His hand shot out, faster than the eye could follow, and clamped around Vek’s wrist.
The sword clattered to the ground.
A single, brutal squeeze made the bones creak.
Vek’s face went white with pain.
“Touch her again,” Elarion whispered, leaning close so only Vek could hear, “and I’ll break every bone in your body. Slowly.”
He released the man.
Vek stumbled back, clutching his wrist, eyes wide with fear and rage.
He didn’t dare pick up the sword.
Elarion turned to the little girl.
He gently dusted off her dirty clothes and picked up the fallen piece of bread from the ground.
“Why did you steal it, little one?” he asked softly.
“If you’re hungry, you can get food at the temple, no?”
The girl clutched her small hands tightly, tears welling in her eyes.
“They won’t give it to me,” she cried, wiping her tears with dirty sleeves.
“The kind sisters also curse me… they say I’m a demon who killed my villagers… But I’m not! I’m just Lilli… I’m not that scary demon…”
Elarion sighed deeply.
He stood up, took out a silver coin, and pressed it into the chief’s hand.
The man tried to refuse, but Elarion insisted until he accepted.
“Thank you, good sir,” the chief muttered.
Elarion then gave another silver coin to the owner of the apple stall as compensation.
Without another word, he took Lilli’s small hand in his and walked away with her through the crowded street.
Behind him, Vek grumbled curses under his breath and slunk away.