After Duke Blackwood’s declaration, it took nearly five full minutes before the roar of the crowd softened enough for the coronation to continue. Even then, it never truly fell silent—cheers still rolled in waves from the outer streets, and by the time order was restored, several hundred more people had flooded into the square, climbing walls, roofs, and balconies just to witness the moment of coronation.

The traditional rites of Lancephil were simple and old: the swearing of royal oaths, the donning of the crown, and a speech to seal the reign. But Kai had already decided that he would not swear the same oaths Eldric once had—vows that promised obedience to hollow traditions while the kingdom rotted beneath them.

So instead, he let the church step forward.

Archbishop Maurice moved to the front of the stage, the sunlight catching on the polished staff he carried, its head carved with the sigil of the church. When he raised it, the remaining murmurs faded.

“In the name of Goddess Lumaris,” Maurice declared, “I have looked upon the heart of Arzan Kellius.”

His gaze swept briefly across the crowd before returning to Kai.

“I have seen his resolve, his compassion, and the vision he holds for this kingdom and its people. And on behalf of the Church, I stand here to say this clearly—our faith stands with him.”

A ripple moved through the crowd.

“He has shown his righteousness not through empty prayers, but through action,” Maurice continued. “During the civil war, when hunger spread and fear took hold, he fed the people with grain from his own pack. When evil princes tore down the houses of worship, he restored them, not for praise, but because it was right.”

Maurice lifted his staff slightly, his voice rising.

“If that is not faith made manifest, if that is not righteousness given form, then I do not know what is.”

The square erupted at once.

Cheers thundered upward, loud enough to rattle windows and shake banners. Maurice turned just enough to give Kai a firm nod, pride clear on his face. Kai returned it slowly, still faintly surprised by the oratory skills of the man.

Then, Kai moved forward to the centre.

At the same time, two maids approached from the side of the stage, carrying a long, velvet-lined box between them. They stopped before Kai and carefully lifted the lid.

Inside rested the Crown of Lancephil.

It was older than most cities in the kingdom—crafted of dark silver etched with ancient seals, set with a single deep-blue gem at its center that seemed to drink in the light rather than reflect it. It was not ostentatious, nor delicate. It was heavy, solid, and made to endure.

Surprisingly, the crown had not been in the royal castle when it was reduced to rubble. Eldric had taken it with him to Eden City and, in his haste, had never brought it back with him to Hermil. It might have been lost to history if not for Leopold, who had discovered it in Eldric’s room and immediately sent it back once preparations for the coronation began.

Now, Kai gazed down at it as Duke Blackwood lifted the crown from the velvet lining, the cheers of the crowd swelling around them like a tide. For a brief moment, the duke held it just above Kai’s head, his expression grave but proud.

“I hope you serve the kingdom as well as you fight,” Duke Blackwood said.

“I will,” Kai whispered in reply.

The crown settled onto his head.

The response was instant.

The square erupted, the noise crashing down on him in a wave of slogan—Long live the king! and a dozen other shouts rising together until it felt as though the very air vibrated. The volume was sharp enough that Kai instinctively wrapped a thin layer of mana around his ears, steadying himself as he felt the weight of the crown press against his brow and shoulders.

He let his gaze drift across the stage.

The nobles were clapping, some enthusiastically, others stiffly, but he barely spared them a thought. His eyes found the people who mattered.

Killian stood to the side, posture straight, pride clear in his eyes which usually never betrayed emotions. Francis looked as though he might break into tears at any moment, his hands trembling as he applauded. Claire, Amara and Amyra were all smiling. The former was even openly tearing up.

There were others too, allies and supporters who had walked beside him through blood and fire, but Kai could not give each of them more than a fleeting glance.

The cheers continued, but he knew it was time to say his first words as a king.

Kai stepped forward and raised his hand.

Slowly, the roaring crowd began to quiet, the noise fading into an expectant hush. He formed a simple voice-amplifying spell and spoke, his words carrying cleanly across the square.

“First of all,” Kai said, “I want to thank everyone standing here on this stage with me today. Without them, I would not be here. Without them, I would not have survived the war—let alone won it.”

He paused, drawing in a slow breath as he gathered his thoughts.

“From my first days as a baron of Veralt,” Kai continued, “a position I once felt completely unprepared for, I learned something important. A strong will or a righteous heart is not enough to lead. Leadership is about having people beside you, people willing to shoulder responsibility with you when the weight becomes too heavy to bear alone.”

His gaze swept across the stage, then out into the crowd beyond it.

“By the grace of Goddess Lumaris, I was fortunate enough to find more and more people like that. And today, I stand here in a role that would have been impossible without them.”

He paused again, then shook his head slightly.

“But more than that, I stand here because of you all. Because of the farmers who worked day and night to grow grain for my armies. Because of the blacksmiths who forged weapons until their hands bled. Because of the mothers and wives who sent their sons and husbands to fight, not knowing if they would ever return.”

His voice did not rise, but it carried weight.

“More than me, and more than my subordinates, you have sacrificed the most.”

For a moment, the crowd seemed stunned. The cheers did not fade, but they changed—less wild, more shaken, as if many did not quite know how to react. A king speaking this way, openly acknowledging the common populace, was almost unheard of in this era. He knew it very well, therefore, he kept speaking.

“Despite what some of you may believe,” he said, his tone growing heavier, “I also have blood on my hands. Not only the blood of those who tried to tear this kingdom apart, but the blood of those who trusted me. Those who fought believing in my ways, my decisions, and my vision for this kingdom.”

His jaw tightened.

“Every soldier who fell may have died to an enemy’s blade, but the responsibility does not end there. I share that guilt. I will carry it for the rest of my life, and even beyond that, as nothing more than a soul standing beneath the light of the goddess.”

The cheers slowly died down at his words, fading into a hush so complete that Kai’s voice became the only sound echoing across the square.

He lifted a hand and rested it against the crown upon his head, his fingers brushing the cold metal.

“Hence,” he continued, “this crown is not merely proof of victory. It is a burden.

“A burden to ensure that the deaths of every single person—whether by blade, by famine, or by sickness—are never meaningless. A burden to make sure that their sacrifices become the foundation of something better, not just another chapter of suffering.

“I swear to Veralt, and to every corner of this kingdom, that I will strive to make this land as close to heaven as a mortal world can be. And I also swear this—”

His hand tightened briefly against the crown.

“—that I will never cast aside this guilt. I will carry it with me for as long as I rule. It will remind me of why I must do better, why I must think beyond power, beyond pride, and beyond myself.”

He straightened.

“I will lead the Kingdom of Lancephil into a golden era. An era not defined by endless wars, but by magic, innovation, and knowledge—an era where strength exists to protect creation, not to destroy it.”

Those final words were not just for the crowd. They were for himself.

Kai knew he had already altered history by preventing Eldric and Regina from ever ruling the kingdom. But this was also a crossroad. If the first golden era of magic was destined to arrive, then this time it would not be born from blood and ruin. It would be built through understanding, progress, and restraint. And he would bring it.

For a heartbeat, the square was silent.

Then the world seemed to explode.

The cheers surged back with a force that felt almost physical, rolling through the city like a living tide. People shouted his name, raised their fists, wept openly, and clutched one another in disbelief. They were not cheering for a conqueror. They were cheering a king who had spoken to them by placing himself among them.

Kai exhaled slowly.

Duke Blackwood stepped closer and gave him a firm pat on the shoulder, leaning in just enough to murmur, “You did well.”

But even as the praise reached him, Kai knew the coronation was far from over.

He had no intention of laying out his full vision for the kingdom here—it would take hours, if not days. However, there was something that could not wait.

Those who had stood beside him from the very beginning. Those who had followed without demanding reward.

This was the moment to acknowledge them.

Kai raised his hand once more, and though the cheers resisted, they gradually quieted under his presence.

“Although I have already achieved what I set out to do by ending the civil war,” he said evenly, “there are many who worked just as hard—if not harder—to make that victory possible. I see no better place than this, before the people of the kingdom, to ensure they receive what they deserve.”

He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the stage and the crowd beyond it.

“Today, I will be making several announcements.”

A ripple of anticipation ran through the square.

“First,” Kai continued, “there is a man who held an entire region together while I was away at war.”

His eyes shifted toward the nobles gathered at the side.

“Francis.”

At the sound of his name, Francis stiffened. For a heartbeat, he looked as if he was processing what was happening, but then he stepped forward from the group, the crowd immediately taking notice of the familiar face now moving toward the king.

Kai’s voice carried clearly.

“While I was absent, Francis oversaw the Sylvan Enclave in its entirety. He coordinated supply lines, maintained order, prevented unrest, and ensured that Veralt never once fell into chaos. He worked day and night, not for recognition, but because he believed in the future of this city and the kingdom. From day one, he believed that the city could prosper and it did.”

Francis stopped a few steps before him.

“He has been way more than a subordinate,” Kai said. “He has been a pillar.”

Following custom, Francis lowered himself to one knee.

Kai stepped forward and placed a firm hand on the man’s shoulder.

“As the ruler of this land,” Kai declared, his voice resonating across the square, “I grant you the title of Count of Lancephil.”

The crowd erupted instantly.

But Kai was not finished.

“And further,” he continued, “I appoint you Grand Chancellor of the Kingdom.”

This time, even the nobles reacted.

A wave of whispers swept through the ranks on the stage. Several heads snapped up. Others exchanged sharp glances. The title had not existed for centuries.

“You will be granted lands befitting your rank,” Kai said calmly, “and entrusted with the authority to oversee the administration of the realm. I expect you to advise me honestly, govern wisely, and serve the kingdom as faithfully as you have served Veralt.”

The cheers grew louder, drowning out the murmurs among the nobles.

Francis’s shoulders trembled.

When he lifted his head, his eyes were wet.

The Grand Chancellor was more than a noble title. It was the equivalent of a prime minister—a position that carried real authority. The power to draft laws, manage ministries, coordinate noble territories, and keep the kingdom functioning when the king was absent.

For centuries, the throne had hoarded that power.

Kai had just given it away.

And by doing so, he made one thing clear to everyone watching: He did not intend to rule alone.

Slowly, Francis straightened and spoke, his voice steady despite the tears still clinging to his eyes.

“I accept this position and its responsibility.”

Kai looked directly at him.

“Will you work for the people, the land, and the future of this kingdom with honesty and integrity?” he asked.

Francis did not hesitate. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Kai continued, his tone solemn. “Do you swear this in the name of Goddess Lumaris?”

Francis placed a hand over his chest and nodded. “I swear it on my faith in Goddess Lumaris.”

With that, the old man rose to his feet. His eyes were still wet, but his posture was firm. He met Kai’s gaze once more, and Kai gave him a single approving nod. Francis then turned toward the roaring crowd, bowed deeply, and stepped back into the ranks, the cheers following him all the way.

When the noise settled, Kai faced the crowd again.

“Our victory,” he said, “did not come only from men like Francis. It also came from warriors who fought for this land even when those in power had wronged them in the past.”

His gaze shifted.

“The Lombards are warriors like that.”

At those words, a stir ran through the square. He had expected it.

“Today,” Kai continued, “I will grant them what I promised. Chieftain Yafgar.”

Yafgar stepped forward at once. Without hesitation, the massive man lowered himself to one knee. A few years ago, such a sight would have been unthinkable. Lombards kneeling to a Lancephilian ruler had once been impossible. Now, it was done willingly.

Kai looked down at him.

“As the ruler of this land,” he declared, “I grant you the title of Viscount of Lancephil.”

The crowd reacted immediately, voices rising in surprise.

“You and your people will be granted land within the Sylvan Enclave,” Kai continued, “and with it, the right to settle, govern, and live as citizens of this kingdom.”

The murmurs grew louder.

“And further,” Kai said evenly, “I appoint you Commander of the region of Sylvan Enclave.”

This time, even the cheering faltered into stunned whispers.

To many, the Lombards were still seen as outsiders. Granting a foreign chieftain command over an entire regional army was no small thing. It was unprecedented.

But Kai did not waver.

He knew exactly what he was doing. There was no one better suited for the role.

This was also a way for Kai to ensure that the Lombards would slowly begin teaching their combat techniques to the kingdom’s army, strengthening it from within.

Chieftain Yafgar lifted his head and spoke in a firm, resonant voice.

“I accept the title and the position. I swear to work day and night for it.”

Kai nodded once, then asked, “Will you train and lead the army, and make it strong enough that any invader will tremble at the sight of it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Yafgar answered without hesitation.

Kai continued, “Do you swear this on your faith?”

Yafgar placed a hand over his chest. “I swear on the elements my tribe has worshipped for decades. My people and I will work for the betterment of this kingdom, as long as this kingdom takes care of us.”

Kai inclined his head in approval.

“With that,” he said, “rise.”

Yafgar stood. A rare smile crossed his face as he met Kai’s gaze, then he turned toward the nobles. Some of them still looked uneasy, their expressions tight, but at least Duchess Vaessa appeared openly pleased. She gave Yafgar a small nod of acknowledgment as he returned to his place.

With that, Kai had rewarded two of his greatest supporters so far. Yet there were still many left.

And among them was one man Kai had wanted to elevate to a ducal seat, only for him to refuse it outright.

Still, Kai had prepared something special.

“Knight Killian,” he said clearly, “please come forward.”

At once, Killian stepped out from the line. Before Kai could say anything more, Killian went down on one knee and looked up at him. His face was composed, but his eyes betrayed a storm of emotion.

Kai drew a breath and spoke, his voice carrying across the square.

“Honestly, there is no title that could fully repay what you have done for me and for this kingdom,” he said. “But I hope my next words will be enough, at least in part.”

He paused, letting the weight of the moment settle.

“As the ruler of this land,” Kai declared, “I hereby grant you the title of Count of Lancephil, along with lands befitting that rank.”

A few nobles looked surprised, but others nodded as if they had expected it.

“But more than that,” Kai continued and his voice deepened with all the emotions he tried to hide. “From this day onward, you will be known as the First Sword of the King.”

Killian’s eyes widened slightly.

“And you will also serve as the head of the newly founded Enforcer Academy, tasked with training the future shield and swords of this kingdom.”

***

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