The Next Morning.
Everyone had gathered at the castle gates.
News of Lucien’s departure to the capital had already spread.
It’s thanks to Aldren and Roneth who had let it slip the night before. The two were still sound asleep in their cozy inn, blissfully unaware of the unease their words had sparked.
Despite the bright morning light, a heavy silence hung in the air.
An uneasy thought stirred within many of them.
Will the Young Lord return?
Is he abandoning us?
Did we disappoint him...?
The weight of those doubts bore down on their hearts.
Those thoughts were, in so ways, unavoidable.
Aldren and Roneth hadn’t exactly helped.
They had let slip that Lucien was leaving for the capital but they hadn’t shared the full context.
They didn’t ntion the upcoming Grand Celebration.
One of the subjects finally broke the silence.
"Maybe... the Young Lord is disappointed with us. We’re not talented after all. I’ve only reached Tier 4 even after everything he’s done for us..."
That single comnt echoed through the group like a cold wind.
It struck deep because many of them were thinking the sa thing.
After all, they were just commoners.
Untalented.
Unremarkable.
The average Tier among them was only Tier 4. It felt like they hadn’t done enough.
But...
If anyone from the capital... or even soone with a shred of common sense... had heard them, they would’ve laughed, cried, or... collapsed into existential despair.
Because if you looked at it objectively, their progress was nothing short of extraordinary.
These people had only been training for twenty-five days.
anwhile, the so-called "geniuses" of the capital...
Those born into noble families.
Those who trained since childhood.
...barely reached Tier 5 by the age of fifteen even with expensive elixers and high-tier mana-circulation technique.
That comparison alone spoke volus.
But they didn’t know that.
They hadn’t left their borders.
They hadn’t seen the wider world.
To them, the capital might as well have been another planet.
So in their eyes, their best still felt inadequate.
They simply didn’t realize...
Just how far they’d co.
Even Clara who was supposed to have the most common sense among them, having traveled to many places... fell silent.
Despite receiving Lucien’s blessings, even she... still felt inadequate.
Standing in place, she found herself wondering if she had done enough. She sotis questioned if she was worthy of his faith.
Just then, Cecil stepped forward.
"Everyone! How could you doubt our Lord?" he said with his voice louder and steadier than usual.
The crowd turned to him in surprise.
It was Cecil who let strange thoughts and wild theories get the better of him.
But now, his voice carried sothing different.
Conviction.
"Think about it," he continued. "The Lord’s probably heading to the capital to secretly challenge the King to a duel! For better rights for us!"
He raised a finger dramatically.
"Once he wins, the King will have no choice but to reward him. Maybe even make him a Duke! And then... we’ll all be dukelings or sothing!"
There was a beat of silence.
Then laughter broke out.
’Cecil hasn’t changed one bit,’ they thought. Still full of wild imagination.
And yet... they welcod the thought.
Because sohow... despite its absurdity, it ward their hearts.
And just like that, their heavy hearts began to feel lighter.
Lukas stepped forward with a grin.
"Haha! If that’s true, then we should give our Lord a proper send-off," he said. "Defense Division! Stand tall and form up! Let’s show him the best farewell we can!"
At once, the Defense Division snapped to action. Their movents were sharp and practiced.
They quickly assembled at the gate, forming a proud formation like a knightly entourage. Down the center, they left a clear path.
Next was Green.
"Alright, everyone! Bring out the flowers we’ve been growing," he called to his team. "Let’s decorate the path. The Young Lord will definitely appreciate them!"
Across the grounds, the Sustenance Division mbers hurried to gather fresh blooms.
Bright.
Vibrant.
Full of care.
Then ca Stone’s voice.
"Bring out the statues we made of our Lord!" he bellowed. "And soone get up there and fetch the Banner of the Untainted. We’ll do this properly!"
Excitent stirred in the crowd as the preparations continued.
Then Elk stepped forward.
"Everyone... it’s finally ti. Let’s use "that" talisman for this occasion."
Her team turned toward her with knowing smiles.
They all knew what she ant.
It wasn’t just any talisman.
It had started as a basic fireball scroll but they had altered it. Inspired by the dazzling display Lucien once showed them, they had spent weeks experinting and fine-tuning.
And now... they had created their own version.
A proper firework talisman.
This mont was the perfect chance to use it.
Their Lord was leaving and they would send him off with pride, color and light.
Then Clara stepped forward.
"Everyone, it’s our ti to shine. Take your positions. Let’s begin."
The mbers of the Spiritual Division moved with quiet grace, forming a choir-like formation.
They wore robes woven from Sun Thread. They are part of the rewards granted by Lucien the night before.
The fabric shimred faintly in the morning light, casting a soft golden glow. They looked like priestly guardians of sothing sacred.
Then, on Clara’s cue, a low hum began to rise from their ranks.
It wasn’t just a sound... it was magic.
Clara gently cast her light magic, weaving it into the harmonics of the choir. The hum deepened, amplified by the spell. It wasn’t loud but it was powerful.
The lody wrapped around everyone present, calming their hearts and lifting their spirits.
What had started as anxiety and doubt had now transford into sothing else. Sothing warr.
The air felt lighter.
The mood brighter.
By the ti the last preparations were done, the entire gate had transford.
A path lined with flowers. Statues standing proudly. The Banner of the Untainted waving.
Fireworks ready.
Music in the air.
And at the center of it all... unity.
Just then...
Lucien finally arrived at the gate, flanked by Maxim and Sebas.
The mont they stepped into view, they froze.
Before them stood the entire territory.
Everyone was in formation.
The pathway ahead was adorned with vibrant flowers, lovingly arranged.
Statues of Lucien stood at intervals...slightly exaggerated and a bit ridiculous... but unmistakably made with care.
At the front, Stone held the Banner of the Untainted. Its cloth rippled in the breeze, instilling pride in all who saw it.
Lucien took it all in.
His chest tightened. Not from pressure but from warmth.
He instinctively rubbed the tip of his nose and looked away.
Beside him, Maxim and Sebas exchanged smiles.
Without a word, they moved to prepare the Wind Chariot and ready the wyvern.
Lucien stepped forward slowly, walking the flower-lined path.
Then he heard it.
The soft humming of the Spiritual Division.
It resonated through the air like a sacred hymn. Clara’s light magic weaved through the sound.
It wasn’t loud... but it was felt.
Lucien breathed in.
The scent of flowers.
The harmony of magic,
The devotion in every small detail...
And all of it...
Was for him.
Lucien approached the crowd.
He stopped a few paces in front of them with his hands behind his back and asked with a soft smile,
"Everyone... why are you all gathered at the gate?"
Lukas stepped forward.
"Young Lord, we wanted to give you a proper send-off. For a safe journey to the capital."
Behind him, the entire Defense Division straightened and gave a crisp salute.
Lucien looked at them and let out a small chuckle.
They had co a long way.
The posture, the discipline, the unity... It was real. And it made him proud.
Then... Whoosh!
A sudden burst lit the sky.
The Crafting Division had launched the Fireworks Talisman.
Brilliant trails of color danced across the daylight sky. Not as striking as they would have been at night but still beautiful in their own way.
Lucien smiled as he watched them fade.
They weren’t perfect.
But they were full of effort.
And to him... that mattered more than perfection.
"Everyone," he said sincerely, "I truly appreciate this."
Just then, Sebas and Maxim returned...
One leading the floating Wind Chariot, the other guiding the wyvern.
Lucien turned to see them then faced the crowd again.
His gaze swept over each of them, his voice steady.
"I may be away for a while... but I won’t be gone completely... I will still be with you... in another form."
Just then... Lucien raised his hand.
A faint pulse of energy rippled around him.
"Split Body."
In an instant, his body was enveloped in a radiant light.
The glow intensified then shot downward like a streak of magic.
It hit the ground in front of the crowd.
Everyone shielded their eyes from the brightness.
And then... it faded.
Standing in the spot where the light had landed was a smaller figure.
A miniature Lucien.
Identical features.
Sa clothes.
Sa expression.
Just... palm-sized.
The tiny version of Lucien raised a hand and gave a little wave.
Silence.
Complete and total silence.
Maxim’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. His jaw dropped so far open, it looked like he’d forgotten how to close it.
Sebas looked ridiculous. Stone blinked rapidly. Green rubbed his eyes. Elk looked ready to faint. Lukas fell out of the formation. Cecil was writing rapidly in a notebook with glowing eyes. Clara was her usual...
No one spoke. No one moved.
They were all stuck sowhere between awe and total disbelief.
Lucien scratched his cheek, awkwardly.
"Ahem... yeah. So... this little guy will act as my stand-in while I’m away."
He glanced at the stunned crowd.
"I can still communicate through him. So don’t get any ideas about slacking off."
His eyes narrowed just slightly. Half stern, half amused.
"I’ll be expecting regular reports. Sebas, Green, Stone, Lukas, Cecil, Elk, Clara. You’ll be my eyes and ears here."
The mini version of Lucien strolled confidently toward Sebas then leapt with surprising agility... landing neatly on his shoulder.
"I’ll leave things to you, Sebas," the real Lucien said. "I’m heading out now."
With that, he turned and stepped onto the Wind Chariot.
But as he took his seat, sothing caught his eye and he couldn’t help but chuckle.
Maxim who was at the front...
Still has his mouth wide open.
Completely motionless except for the reins he held, guiding the chariot forward like muscle mory had taken over.
They previously thought they were used to surprises by now...
But Split Body? That, they didn’t see coming.
Behind them, the crowd remained frozen, their minds still trying to process everything.
Not a single cheer or goodbye had been shouted... just stunned silence trailing in their wake.
Lucien walked to the front of the chariot and gently patted the wyvern’s neck.
"We’re counting on you, buddy."
The wyvern let out a rumbling growl... almost like a proud reply.
Traveling through the skies was surprisingly pleasant.
Though only a short ti had passed, they had already soared far from the territory.
The Wind Chariot glided smoothly, stabilized by layered enchantnts.
The air pressure that would have battered an ordinary rider simply rolled off the barrier like wind against glass.
Lucien sat down and leaned back.
The chariot was more spacious than it looked roomy enough for two passengers with smooth-cushioned seats and protective runes etched along the rails.
And above all, it felt safe.
The wyvern didn’t even need to be led. It knew the route instinctively as if it had flown this path countless tis before.
Lucien turned his head toward the front of the chariot where Maxim sat steering.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at the man’s expression.
’He’s really changed,’ Lucien thought.
This wasn’t the sa Maxim he rembered from before.
Back then, Maxim had been a man worn down by life.
Mild. Quiet. Just drifting through the days.
But now?
Now, he was lively. Engaged. Even talkative.
It was as if the fire of his youth had been rekindled.
Lucien smiled.
’He can even make expressions like that now...’
But then... Maxim’s face suddenly shifted.
The lighthearted air evaporated.
His expression hardened.
Lucien’s instincts flared.
He straightened in his seat.
"Nephew," Maxim said firmly with his eyes locked ahead. "Get down and fetch the weapon in the back. There’s a monster coming."
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