The royal capital of Alarion was grand, majestic—and drenched in hidden venom. Its white marble towers rose proudly beneath a golden sky, banners of the Five Great Houses fluttering in a rare moment of peace. But beneath the polished surface, nobles whispered, plotting behind fans and goblets of wine.
For Rael, it was just another battlefield.
---
Arrival at the Capital Hero Division
The Capital Hero Division Headquarters was unlike anything Eris had ever seen—even she paused.
Built like a cathedral, the entrance rose three stories high, adorned with statues of former heroes, their gazes eternal and judgmental. A vast open plaza greeted them, filled with young heroes deep in training. But as Rael and Eris passed, silence followed them like a shadow.
"That's the commoner," someone hissed.
"He beat Eris? Impossible."
"Did he cheat…?"
Rael ignored them. He had no interest in the opinions of the unremarkable.
Eris, walking just behind him, shot a glare at the whispers but said nothing. Her thoughts, however, were louder than any words.
> They'll see. He's more than they can ever comprehend.
---
Royal Hall – The Duke's Demand
Inside the Crystal Hall of Judgment, Duke Margrave stood before the throne of King Alarion IV. His silver robes were immaculate, but the fury beneath them simmered.
"My son, Lionhart Margrave. Dead. In the middle of a forest—near that school," he growled. "And this… peasant, Rael… he walks free? Crowned as a hero?"
The King, seated on a throne of blackstone and sun-forged gold, watched him with eyes sharp and ancient. His beard was trimmed, his presence regal and still.
"By all reports, your son was killed cleanly. By a monster," the King replied. "And the boy you accuse not only survived… he excelled."
"I demand justice," the Duke snapped.
"You may investigate," the King said, his voice like iron drawn slow. "But touch him without proof... and I'll strip your rank and burn your lands to ash."
The Duke bowed, but hatred burned in his eyes.
---
The Hero Presentation Ceremony
Three days later, thousands gathered in the Grand Plaza of Light as the King prepared to announce the newly chosen heroes.
Trumpets blared across the skies. Magicians hovered midair, casting illusions for the masses. A giant image of the royal balcony shimmered above.
King Alarion IV stepped forward, flanked by the High Priests of Solastra and the Five Chosen.
"The time has come," the King declared, his voice enchanted to reach every soul in the city.
"The Saints of the Sacred Blade have foreseen a terrible vision. The Firstborn of the Demon Lord Lucien… will rise. And he will end the world before salvation can come to pass."
A gasp rippled through the plaza.
King Alarion raised his arm.
"We present our Five Valiant Heroes!"
He called their names in order:
"Orion Azure! Swordmaster, Expert Rank!"
A tall youth with silver hair and a confident smirk bowed gracefully.
"Rael Elowen! Master Swordsman… Common-born!"
A hush. Then murmurs. Then an uproar.
"A what?"
"Master Swordsman?"
"Impossible!"
Rael stood still, unmoved. His eyes swept the crowd like a blade. The nobles recoiled.
"Eris von Valemont! Ice Witch, Fourth-Circle Mage!"
Her pale blue dress shimmered with frost. Her gaze was unreadable.
"Cassian Stoneheart! Spear Hero, Expert Rank!"
A broad-shouldered youth grinned and flexed, raising his weapon high.
"Lyra Starlight! Healer, Fourth-Circle Mage!"
A gentle girl in white robes bowed with soft grace.
The King's voice darkened.
"These five shall bear the fate of the world. They will kill Lucien's Firstborn… before the future is lost."
---
Whispers of Doubt
As the crowds dispersed, nobles in silken finery whispered behind their fans.
"Rael Elowen… who trained him?"
"Is he from the Northern Clans? A secret weapon of the Church?"
"Or something worse…?"
Later, inside the palace banquet hall, the heroes were offered food and wine—but no one dared approach Rael. Except one.
Eris.
She stood beside him, raising a glass.
"To survival," she said simply.
Rael tilted his cup.
"To advantage."
When a minor noble sneered, "Your sword must be fake if it let you win by luck," Eris stepped forward.
"Say that again," she said coldly, frost blooming at her fingertips. "And I'll freeze your blood in your mouth."
The hall fell silent.
Eris took Rael's arm and led him away, ignoring the murmurs.
"She's defending him…?"
"Maybe she likes him…"
"I thought her heart was like her magic—super cold…"
Rael glanced at her.
> She's falling faster than expected. But just according to plan.
---
Midnight – Royal Sword Grounds
Only those above Expert level were permitted in the Royal Sword Grounds—an ancient place where swords from forgotten wars still floated, half-buried in sacred stone.
Rael stood shirtless under the moonlight, training in silence. His sword forms flowed like poetry written in blood.
"Echo of the Afterlife – Form Four: Bloodshade."
Twenty illusionary clones burst from him, moving in perfect sync—ghosts of death and precision.
Commander Kael, a scarred veteran now assigned to monitor the heroes, watched from the shadows. His one eye narrowed.
"…That's not swordsmanship. That's art… mixed with death."
He turned to leave—but paused.
> If that boy keeps growing… even the Demon Lord's child might bleed.
---
In the Shadows
In a dark alley near the Noble District, a cloaked figure knelt before a floating sigil of light.
"Begin watching Rael. Don't engage."
The figure grinned.
"And if he moves against the Duke?"
The Duke's voice echoed through the magic seal.
"Then cut his throat… and erase his bones."