The flourishing of old Verna did not remain a local story for long.
What had once been called a dying land had now become the very symbol of recovery in the kingdom. The fields of Verna were green again, its merchants had returned, and its harvests had begun feeding not only its own people but also the neighboring baronies.
Even the capital spoke of it.
The nobles called it a miracle.
The merchants called it profit.
The common people called it hope.
And eventually—
The news reached the royal palace.
Thus, Henry, Baron of Verna, was summoned by the King himself.
Not for questioning.
But for recognition.
—
The morning of departure was quieter than expected.
Henry stood outside his parents' house as the royal carriage waited nearby, pulled by a powerful mountain mecha build for long-distance travel.
His mother adjusted his coat for the third time.
"Mom," Henry said helplessly, "don't worry. I'll be back soon."
She ignored him and fixed his collar again.
His father stood nearby, trying and failing to look less emotional.
"Dad, take care of yourself."
His father scoffed.
"You say that like I'm the one constantly getting dragged into pirate wars and royal trouble."
Henry smiled.
Then turned.
"Let's go, Nabu."
Nearby, Nabu was already giving instructions.
"Take care of things, Stella."
Standing beside him was Stella—the new assistant Henry's father had personally chosen to help manage part of Verna's growing administrative burden.
She was sharp, practical, and far less dramatic than Nabu, which immediately made Henry trust her more.
Henry added,
"And Stella, don't forget to treat the guest properly. Also, provide her with the seeds."
Stella gave a small nod.
And so—
Henry left Verna once again.
But this time—
Not as a lost traveler.
As its lord.
—
The journey to the capital was smooth.
The roads were safer now, trade routes stronger, and Henry found himself noticing how much the kingdom itself had begun changing.
Verna had not only saved itself.
It had influenced everything around it.
When they finally arrived at the capital, the royal palace stood as imposing as ever.
Tall white stone.
Massive gates.
And enough nobles to make breathing feel political.
Henry entered the royal hall dressed not as an adventurer, not as a wandering survivor—
But as a baron.
The court was gathered.
Ministers.
Nobles.
Military leaders.
The royal family.
And at the center—
The King.
The old ruler's voice carried clearly through the chamber.
"By the authority of the crown, and in recognition of extraordinary service to the kingdom…"
Silence filled the hall.
"Henceforth, the Barony of Tecka shall be established."
Murmurs immediately spread.
The King continued.
"Henry shall be recognized as its ruling Baron and is provided with the name of Tecka"
The hall grew louder.
Tecka was no small reward.
It included not only Verna, but also the surrounding forests and the Deckra Mountains.
Its territory made it the third largest noble domain in the kingdom—surpassed only by the capital itself and the great Dukedom of Sven.
That was no ordinary promotion.
It was a new Barony in map.
It was power.
Real power.
Some nobles clearly disliked it.
Others whispered openly.
But none could deny the reason.
The harvests from Verna had ended hunger across multiple regions.
The relief supplies sent from Henry's lands had saved countless people.
And most importantly—
The land-cleansing artifact had changed the kingdom's fight against demonic miasma itself.
Not only Verna suffered from corrupted lands.
Now there was hope for all of them.
Even resentment had limits against undeniable results.
The title was accepted.
Henry bowed.
But inwardly—
He was mostly wondering how much more paperwork this would create.
—
After the formal gathering ended, Henry barely had time to breathe before two familiar people found him.
Mark.
And Irene.
Mark immediately grabbed his shoulders.
"I am so happy for you! How did you even manage this?"
Henry gave him a tired look.
"Mostly suffering."
"That sounds correct."
Irene stepped forward.
"So, Mark, can I have him now?"
Mark raised both hands dramatically.
"I surrender him to your royal harassment."
Irene ignored him and turned toward Henry.
She smiled.
It was dangerous.
"Congratulations."
Then she leaned slightly closer.
"I honestly didn't think you would come this far."
She said it exactly the way she always did—too close, too calm, and just flirtatious enough to make Henry forget how language worked.
Henry cleared his throat.
"Your confidence in me is inspiring."
"I know."
As the three of them talked, the sharp sound of high heels echoed across the marble floor.
Everyone turned.
She walked like someone the world naturally made space for.
Princess Irwin.
The First Princess.
There was pride in every step, but not arrogance—something heavier.
Authority.
Even Irene straightened.
Henry immediately bowed.
"Greetings, Your Highness."
Mark and Irene followed.
"Hi, sister," they said.
Irwin's gaze moved toward Henry.
For a moment, the pressure in the air felt greater than standing before the King himself.
Then she simply said—
"Good work."
And walked away.
That was all.
Yet Henry somehow felt like he had just survived an exam.
After she left, he finally exhaled.
"The King is less intimidating."
Mark laughed.
"That is a common conclusion."
Henry turned to them.
"You once said she was the best candidate for the crown. Why?"
Irene immediately looked away.
Clearly, she did not want that conversation.
Mark answered instead.
"Because she truly was."
His tone changed.
"She was kind. Not just polite—kind. She remembered servants' names. She visited villages without ceremony. People loved her."
He paused.
"She treated the people like they were her own children."
Henry listened quietly.
Mark continued.
"Then… a few years ago, her son died."
Silence.
"Prince Lucian."
His voice lowered.
"After that, everything changed."
"She became distant. She withdrew from politics. She barely spoke to anyone."
He looked toward the hallway where she had disappeared.
"And then one day, she returned and declared she would compete for the crown again."
He shook his head.
"I still don't know why."
His voice cracked slightly.
"Why Lucian had to die… I don't know."
Even Irene looked quieter now.
"She was like a mother to us," Mark said softly.
No one spoke for a moment.
Then Irene cleared her throat dramatically.
"Well, that became sad. Let's go eat before I start feeling emotions."
And like that—
The moment passed.
—
That evening, Henry attended the royal feast.
The dining hall was enormous, the table stretching almost absurdly long beneath golden chandeliers.
At the far northern end sat the King.
To his left sat Max, the First Prince, beside his wife.
Next sat the wife of the Second Prince, Mike, who was absent due to important work.
To the King's right sat Princess Irwin, followed by Mark, Irene—
And finally, Henry.
Then the children of Max and Mike.
A placement that made him deeply uncomfortable.
The feast began.
Max immediately took charge of conversation.
He was warm, talkative, and far more approachable than Henry expected.
He congratulated Henry repeatedly and asked detailed questions about Verna.
His wife eventually sighed.
"Please stop interrogating the guest and let the man eat."
Mike's wife apologized politely for her husband's absence.
"He truly wished to attend. Unfortunately, duty won."
As for Princess Irwin and Mark—
They mostly ate in silence.
Irene, however, had chosen violence.
She enthusiastically told everyone every embarrassing detail she could remember about Henry.
How he delayed a simple package delivery.
How he somehow kept getting dragged into disasters.
How he once looked terrified of royal paperwork.
The First Prince laughed.
His wife laughed.
Even the King became interested.
Henry considered fleeing through a window.
But strangely—
It felt warm.
Not political.
Not formal.
Almost like family.
And perhaps that was more dangerous.
The feast ended peacefully.
The King granted Henry permission to stay in the royal guest house, since he did not yet possess a noble residence in the capital.
Irene personally escorted him there.
The walk was quieter than usual.
At the door, Henry gave a small smile.
"Good night."
She looked at him for a second longer than normal.
Then smiled back.
"Try not to become more important while sleeping."
"No promises."
She left.
Henry entered the room and finally allowed himself to relax.
As he lay down, exhaustion hit all at once.
He stared at the ceiling.
"I hope everything at home is okay…"
A pause.
"How long are you going to take to come back, Night…"
And slowly—
He slipped into sleep.
Nabu had gone to visit his family.
He had chosen to stay with his family in the city.
Elsewhere in the capital—
In a dark hall hidden far from the palace lights, four voices spoke in low tones.
No faces could be clearly seen.
Only shadows.
One voice spoke first.
"We should have dealt with him from the start."
Another answered immediately.
"Didn't I say that in the beginning?"
A third voice—
"What happened to the beasts we sent to Verna?"
"They were dealt with."
Silence.
Then—
"What?"
The tension sharpened.
"What should we do now?"
The fourth voice, calm and cold, finally spoke.
"Do not worry."
A pause.
"Everything will be dealt with… on that day."
Another voice asked—
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes."
Silence again.
Heavy.
Waiting.
Then the final words came—
"The day is near."
And somewhere in the darkness—
Something far bigger than Henry knew had already begun.