Duke Capone stood on the deck, quietly watching the waves crash against the ship's hull. His eyes, bloodshot from many sleepless nights, held a chaotic blend of fatigue, determination, and pride.
Gentle waves, faint mist, and pale morning sunlight spreading over the horizon painted a picture of serene beauty.
Capone turned his gaze toward the fleet sailing smoothly alongside. Though these were rely improved magic ships designed by Leonardo, they sailed flawlessly.
At this mont, Duke Capone breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that Charles V had finally awakened.
'His Majesty is a wise man. Resolving the aftermath won't be difficult for him.'
Charles V had ascended the throne at a young age, overcoming nurous political enemies to lead Lania into prosperity. Though he'd made an unfortunate choice in his queen, he was far from a fool at his core.
Capone's gaze shifted to Drake, who stood holding the helm, puffing thoughtfully on his cigar.
Earlier, Drake's brief yet powerful words at the harbor still echoed in his mind:
—"It's all over. His Highness Michael told to inform you that after he finishes matters here, he'll head directly to Lania."
To Duke Capone, who had anxiously awaited Michael and Alfred's return, those words felt like rain during a drought.
Soon after receiving Drake's ssage, Duke Capone, Duke Ronald, and the remaining knights departed from the Holy Kingdom. Those with magical beasts took to the skies, while the rest traveled by ship.
Their voyage continued steadily onward.
The wind-filled sails remained taut, and magical propulsion devices pushed the ships swiftly forward.
Capone's eyes suddenly narrowed, catching sight of a griffin rapidly approaching from the horizon.
"Stop! Halt! Cease your approach and identify yourself!"
A gargoyle knight escorting the fleet signaled sharply, raising a flag.
Soon, the griffin rider quickly landed on the deck. The knight wore silver armor engraved with Lania's royal crest.
The griffin hesitated briefly, sensing the presence of dragons and sphinxes aboard the ships, but soon settled down. Recognizing the familiar knight, Duke Capone approached imdiately.
"Oh, it's you. Do you have new information?"
The knight saluted crisply, then quickly handed over a letter—a personal ssage from Charles V himself.
As Duke Capone read, tears glistened faintly at the corners of his eyes.
My dear friend, Duke Capone,
Heaven, it seems, is not yet ready to claim this old body, thus allowing to convey these words to you.
When I awoke on my sickbed, I remained stunned for so ti, uncertain whether to grieve or rejoice.
My silence, my absence... I wondered how heavy a burden they must have placed upon Astrid's shoulders. Yet despite that, she achieved far more than I could have imagined.
That was when I understood clearly: I am no longer fit to bear the crown. My body now requires others' assistance even to move; rely writing a single letter exhausts . How could I possibly rule and care for the people in this state?
Thus, I have decided to relinquish all authority and retire quietly with the queen to a secluded palace.
A new era will now open—and perhaps it is for the best.
Astrid and Michael, I trust they will guide us well. Above all, through this union, Lania will rise as an empire—a glorious outco indeed.
Do not mourn; please remain by their side and support them. King Dominic of Xerx has wholeheartedly approved this arrangent.
As soon as Michael returns, we shall hold his wedding ceremony with Astrid, followed by a joint coronation.
The two kingdoms will unite, and my grandchild, inheriting my blood, shall beco emperor.
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Though short, the letter carried trendous weight. Charles made no ntion of bla, though Capone knew he could easily have been accused of betraying his lifelong friend. It was typical of Charles to hold no bitterness.
Capone carefully folded the letter and tucked it away safely, then gazed out toward the distant sky.
'Now, a new era begins.'
Sunset cast long shadows over the ruins of the Holy Kingdom. Once the continent's most prosperous nation, now it lay covered in the stench of decay.
Red twilight touched the golden spires of temples and stretched deep shadows across the broken stones of empty squares.
Antonio raised his head silently to gaze upward. The once-brilliant ideals of the Holy Kingdom had collapsed, exposing to the world the hidden blood, greed, falsehoods, and sins beneath.
He stood in silence for a long ti.
'Now… has it truly ended?'
Deep down, Antonio had known this outco was inevitable. Perhaps he sensed the eventual downfall of Gwanghwi and the kingdom earlier than anyone.
Yet he felt a profound emptiness in his heart, an unexplainable sorrow that brought tears to his eyes—inevitable bonds ford through his long life as a human.
Alfred's reprimands ca vividly to mind, as did Gwanghwi's persuasive speeches and sweet promises. Everything Antonio had done in the na of justice was now exposed as a lie.
He quietly gazed at the distant sky, now dyed by familiar power.
He recalled how the path begun in the na of justice had gradually turned into one stained by power, war, corruption, and violence.
'I must atone… and set things right.'
Antonio lowered his gaze once more. Before him stood a crowd of starving citizens—impoverished, sick, trembling with fear as they stared at him.
These people, who once knelt before him in the na of a god, now sought his help.
Antonio slowly stepped forward and gently touched the head of a child standing closest. Dirty cheeks, cracked lips, and frail shoulders—this innocent life had nearly been sacrificed under the priests' orders.
"No one will cage you again. From now on, let's live as ourselves, freely."
Antonio knelt to et the child's eyes. His forr title, his supposed holiness, now ant nothing to him.
Now, as rely one man, a sinner, he would slowly repay the heavy debt of guilt he carried.
'From now on, I will devote the rest of my life to these people. This is the only path of redemption I can choose.'
Antonio rose once more.
In the distance, amid the ruins, people were cooking soup and sharing bread. Tiny sparks of warmth, gentle laughter, and traces of ordinary life were slowly returning.
Antonio walked forward slowly, turning to quietly speak to his longti comrades.
"Let's rebuild this land. Water for the children, dicine for the elderly, bread for all. Tell them that divinity dwells within each person's heart. It is ti for us to be reborn."
People began to follow him.
Antonio, the forr Paladin who once served as Gwanghwi's right-hand man, now stepped forward onto the ruins, determined to inscribe true faith and compassion.
In a corner of Xerx's royal palace, within Clara and Henry's chambers—
Henry stood frozen, staring blankly at the familiar face that had appeared before him unexpectedly.
"But… Father, who exactly is this person…?"
He couldn't trust his own eyes. Standing before him was the image of his mother, who he believed had passed away long ago, appearing exactly as she had in her youth.
'Could it be… that Father has brought ho a new wife who resembles Mother?'
He quickly dismissed the absurd thought, shaking his head. The woman's presence was unmistakably familiar—her playful smile, twinkling eyes, even her scent stirred deep mories within him.
Unconsciously, Henry took a step closer to Arabella. Arabella, facing her grown-up son, stepped forward as well.
"You've grown so much… If I saw you in the street, I wouldn't even recognize you."
After hearing the entire story, Henry, his hands trembling, gently embraced Arabella's slender shoulders. Soon, mother and son hugged each other tightly, facing each other with tearful smiles. Long-sealed mories flooded back.
The bond between mother and child was sothing even the passage of countless eons couldn't break.
"Let's never be separated again, Mother…"
Arabella laughed teasingly, winking playfully.
"What nonsense are you saying? Your father and I plan to travel around together. Besides, you'll soon have a new family of your own."
Henry's eyes widened in surprise.
His gaze shifted quickly to Clara, who blushed shyly and spoke softly.
"After Anita treated , my health improved significantly. It's still early, so I planned to share the news once things were certain…"
They had previously been told they could never have children. Filled with sudden joy, Henry quickly grasped Clara's hand.
Arabella and Alfred watched the happy couple warmly. After Michael's wedding and coronation, they planned to start traveling across the continent—occasionally digging up useful corpses to help their grandson, of course.
Inside a warm, sunny greenhouse—
Elizabeth was carefully cutting roses to place in her bedroom. Behind her stood Sigmund, following like a shadow as usual.
Elizabeth gracefully trimd the rose stems, then handed the fresh blooms to Sigmund. He accepted them with a delighted smile, placing each flower carefully into a basket he held.
Jas, Sigmund's loyal knight, wore an expression of complete resignation. Watching the emperor grin foolishly, he wondered whether this person was really the proud emperor he'd once served.
'Is this truly the power of love…?'
Jas's gaze shifted toward Princess Elizabeth. Certainly, she lacked nothing. She was a legitimate princess, backed by Michael's strong influence, and Xerx itself was fad for its wealth.
A union between the erging powerhouse Xerx Kingdom and the Serest Empire was undeniably advantageous for both nations.
More importantly, Elizabeth seed uniquely capable of soothing the emperor's famously volatile temperant.
Elizabeth carefully selected a particularly lovely pink rose, offering Sigmund a radiant smile.
'He might not be my usual type… but at least he's handso.'
In the warmth of Xerx's palace greenhouse, a new love was blossoming, spreading a sweet fragrance.
Astrid paced nervously around the drawing room, her anxiety clearly visible.
Having received a letter stating Michael would soon arrive, her heart raced uncontrollably. Noticing Astrid continuously glancing toward the door, a maid quietly giggled behind her hand.
Seeing the maid's reaction, Astrid's ears turned bright red.
Though soon to be crowned queen, Astrid couldn't help her natural shyness. As she anxiously shifted her gaze between the window and the door, her expression suddenly brightened.
Beyond the castle walls, the crimson wings she'd long awaited finally appeared.
Stepping down from Marcus's broad back, Michael glanced around proudly.
The fleet led by Drake and Duke Capone had yet to arrive. Marcus and Miaomiao, dragged hastily along by Michael, began yawning loudly. Unable to wait patiently aboard the slower magical ships, Michael had hurriedly urged Marcus to fly them straight to the palace.
Michael's gaze traveled upward toward a particular palace window. He saw a familiar face there—a woman with flowing platinum-blonde hair, soft porcelain cheeks, and ruby-red lips.
It was her.
Michael straightened his clothes, then stepped forward, each step deliberate.
'Is happiness all that remains now?'
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