The road back was quiet.
Not from peace—but from what had been left behind. The towering walls of Aurelian soon came into view, standing as they always had—unchanged, unmoved, as if nothing beyond them had stirred.
The gates opened without question. They were expected. Escorted without delay, the five were led through the capital and into the royal hall.
The doors opened.
The chamber stood vast and silent, lined with towering pillars embedded with steady Aether light. Knights stood along both sides, unmoving, their presence forming a path toward the throne.
At its end, sat the King.
King Darius Viremont
The five stepped forward as one.
Renn at the front.
They stopped.
And without hesitation, the team reported what happened. They spoke of the mission. Explained everything what happened including the incident of Mist Wraiths. They did not spoke of Malveris. The reason? The mission is uncertain from the start so Renn and the others agreed to hide it for now.
"…No casualties."
Silence held the hall. Then—
"…You have done well."
The King's voice was calm. "You were sent into uncertainty, given incomplete knowledge, and yet you returned having fulfilled your objective and preserved your unit."
His gaze passed across them. Then rested—briefly—on Renn.
"I welcome you… as Royal Knights of the Kingdom of Aurelian."
No applause followed.
No ceremony.
Only acknowledgment.
"In two days' time, the capital will bear witness to your induction. You will stand before the people as symbols of this kingdom."
His voice remained steady.
"Prepare yourselves."
The audience ended.
Two days passed.
The capital moved with quiet anticipation. Word had spread beyond the walls of the royal district. The people spoke of the new knights—of those who endured the trials and returned.
And within the inner grounds—
Preparation had already been made.
The five stood within a chamber reserved for the Order.
Before them..
Their uniforms.
"The attire of a Royal Knight is not ornamental. It is functional. Each uniform will be forged with integrated Aether reinforcement—designed to withstand wear, impact, and sustained combat exposure."
"And it will reflect not only your role… but your identity as knights of Aurelian."
Renn stepped forward first.
His attire reflected him without excess.
A fitted black coat, lined with gold along its edges, structured for both command and movement. At the center of the chest rested the crest—a radiant eight-pointed star, subtle, yet unmistakable.
A gold-accented scarf fell behind him, resting lightly across his shoulders.
Twin daggers secured at his sides.
Kael Draven let out a faint scoff before stepping forward.
His uniform carried weight. Black layered with deep crimson, reinforced at the shoulders and arms, built for direct engagement. The structure was heavier, the silhouette sharper—fitting his presence without compromise.
His longsword rested ready at his side.
"Took them long enough," Kael muttered. But he wore it without hesitation.
Lio Vance followed.
His attire was refined—white and silver with subtle red accents, balanced in form and movement. No excess, no weight beyond necessity.
Clean. Precise. Like his blade.
"It fits," Lio said quietly.
Seris Valenne stepped forward next.
Her uniform was light. Dark tones layered with silver and violet, shaped close to her form, allowing silent movement without resistance. A thin mantle rested behind her shoulders, shifting slightly with each step.
Her rapier remained at her side.
Finally—
Taren approached.
His attire was lighter than the others—white with gold accents, designed for movement and speed. The structure followed his frame, allowing freedom rather than restriction.
His spear rested in his grasp.
"…I feel different," Taren admitted quietly.
Renn glanced at the others. For a moment, no one spoke. Then Kael let out a breath.
"…So this is it."
Lio adjusted his sleeve slightly.
"…This is where it begins."
Seris remained still. Watching.
Taren looked between them.
"…We're really doing this, huh…"
Renn stepped forward. Now fully clad. "…We are."
A brief silence followed.
Outside—
The capital was already gathering. The people of Aurelian awaited.
And for the first time— They would be seen. Not as survivors, but as Royal Knights.
The gates of the royal balcony opened.
Light poured into the hall. Beyond it— the capital of Aurelian stood gathered.
The five stepped forward.
A sea of people stretched across the grand square below. Citizens, soldiers, nobles—every eye lifted toward the balcony, anticipation thick in the air.
Then—
A single step echoed behind them.
General Vaelric Thorne moved forward, his presence alone enough to quiet the crowd.
The murmurs faded.
Silence followed.
"People of Aurelian."
His voice carried across the square—clear, controlled, unquestionable.
"You stand here today not to witness the end of a trial, but the beginning of duty. The ones before you are not those who sought victory, but those who endured what others could not."
His gaze shifted slightly, toward the five behind him.
"They were tested beyond strength, beyond skill, beyond certainty. And they stand here… still unbroken."
The words settled.
Then—
He began.
"Lio Vance."
Lio stepped forward.
"Kael Draven."
Kael Draven stepped forward next. A smirk barely visible as the crowd responded louder.
"Seris Valenne."
Seris Valenne moved without sound. Yet the crowd's reaction did not falter.
"Taren Veylor."
Taren stepped forward, a breath leaving him as the noise washed over.
"…Renn Valehart."
Renn Valehart stepped forward last.
The moment he appeared, the crowd surged. Something about him held their attention longer than the others. Even those who did not know why, they felt it.
Vaelric's voice returned.
"These five stand before you as the newest Royal Knights of Aurelian."
A final pause.
"Entrusted with your protection."
Cheers filled the square, echoing against the walls, rising into the sky. For a moment, it was overwhelming.
Taren looked out, stunned. "…That's… a lot of people…"
Kael crossed his arms, unfazed—but his eyes scanned.
Lio stood steady.
Seris remained unreadable.
Renn stood still. Watching...
Then—
Something shifted. Not in the sound. Not in the crowd. But in his focus.
Among the countless faces, one stood still. A man, cloaked. Hooded in black.
He did not cheer. He did not move with the crowd. He simply watched.
Renn's gaze narrowed slightly. For a brief moment, their eyes met.
Then—
The man turned. And began to walk away. Vanishing into the sea of people as if he had never been there.
"…Renn?"
Taren's voice broke the moment.
Renn blinked. The crowd returned. The noise returned. The present returned.
"…It's nothing."
He looked forward again. The celebration continued. But for a moment— something had felt out of place.
And then—
It was gone.