After the Gentle Goddess descended, a tense and solemn mood hung over the city of Elphael.
Knights hurried through the streets, changing shifts across the city and strengthening its defenses.
Their figures appeared again and again along the walls, as if they meant to guard every corner without the slightest gap.
Everyone in the city knew that the Saintess's ascension to godhood had to remain secret for now. The outside world could not be allowed to learn of it, least of all Leyndell's Golden Nobles.
The legitimacy of the Golden Goddess was the foundation of their rule. The appearance of a new Goddess would not bring hope. It would only stir up unrest and shatter the hard-won peace.
And the best way to restore peace was naturally to erase the source of that unrest, to send the heretical Goddess to the gallows or burn her to ash upon a pyre.
To avoid driving those people into a corner and making them turn their spears on the Haligtree, the people chose to seal their lips and keep the secret locked away.
The soldiers, meanwhile, kept their eyes wide open, watching their surroundings with vigilance and refusing to miss even the slightest suspicious sign.
The Holy City of Elphael, once secluded from the world, was now truly cut off from it.
The city gates were shut tight, ships were forbidden to sail, and all contact between inside and outside had been severed. The soldiers stood ready, determined not to let even a single fly in or out.
The Haligtree Army sealed off every possible passage, ensuring that no news could leak out.
The knights worked at a relentless pace. The return of the Gentle Goddess had immediately raised the city's defenses by an entire level.
Time passed swiftly, and in the blink of an eye, the next day had arrived.
The astonished cries that had greeted the Lord's return had almost completely vanished.
In their place came faint snores, as if the city had recovered from its excitement and drifted into a peaceful sleep.
The crackling of firewood in the hearth sounded especially clear in the quiet, like the breathing of the sleeping city.
This city worshiped the Empyrean with extraordinary devotion. The arrival of a Lord could certainly inspire its people, but even that was only for Miquella and Trina's sake.
Leda, Captain of the Golden Needle Knights, kept looking toward the small house among the tree roots. As the Empyrean's acknowledged most loyal guardian, she naturally cared deeply about what was happening inside the Saintess's private chamber.
Early that morning, she had seen Trina pull Miquella into the room. To her surprise, they were also carrying a Claymore far too large for their frames.
The Claymore had a distinctive shape, long and sharp like a golden needle.
Leda knew this was something Trina had asked Nolan for. It was said to be a weapon once wielded by a sublime being.
The Claymore looked somewhat out of place in the gentle Goddess's hands, but the aura it gave off was impossible to ignore.
Leda wondered silently what kind of life could be called sublime by a Goddess.
But that question did not seem to matter much to her.
After all, as a Golden Needle Knight, her duty was to protect the Empyrean she believed in. Everything else was insignificant.
At the other end of the corridor, a group of monks hurried in.
Their expressions were solemn as they carefully carried a sword, as if it were an incomparably precious treasure.
To take this sword from the Haligtree's treasury, the monks had gone through countless tedious procedures and spent the entire morning.
It was the Promised Claymore, the treasure Trina had given to Nolan. It held the combined power of the Empyrean and the Saintess, and the Saintess's longing for the departed Lord had left it behind in the Haligtree.
Now that Lord had returned from the dead, standing alive before everyone. Only the two strands of golden light in his eyes were gone, while the sword itself had long gone unused.
Nolan stood at the balcony, watching from afar as the monks carried the sword into the room, then slowly came back out and gently closed the door.
His face was bright with anticipation. "I wonder what kind of gift Trina will give me. I'm really looking forward to it."
Seeing this, Leda could not help feeling puzzled. She looked at Nolan's excited expression and asked curiously, "Is it really that hard to guess?"
"It's not hard to guess, but I still have to keep the anticipation alive. Otherwise, it'll be hard to make the right expression when I receive the gift." Nolan smiled.
"No wonder everyone says you'll be a good father." Leda glanced at Messmer in the distance. A good parent was someone who could answer a child's feelings properly.
That Demigod was preparing to leave the inner city and drill the troops. He had clearly not returned for a holiday, but to be ready to offer his life to his father at any moment.
"After you defeat Lady Malenia..." Leda said softly, "what does Your Majesty intend to do next?"
"I'm still not used to you suddenly addressing me so formally." Nolan spread his hands. "But from your tone, it sounds like you don't think I'll lose at all."
"I see no trace of a loser in Your Majesty. In fact, Your Majesty's expression seems to say that you are invincible now," Leda said with a sigh.
"Do I really look that arrogant?" Nolan could not help rubbing his chin. "All right, I admit I'm very confident."
"To be honest, I don't understand what meaning there is in Your Majesty accepting this challenge. With Princess Miquella and Princess Trina here, Princess Malenia will submit sooner or later." Leda lowered her voice even further.
"But she is an unstoppable blade. If I don't hold the hilt, wouldn't it be easy to cut my hand?" Nolan said, raising his head.
The golden light of the Erdtree spilling through the clouds suddenly seemed to dim, and Leda froze. Did this man intend to replace Princess Miquella as the one who held the sword?
No. Perhaps she was overthinking it. Maybe he simply did not want to hurt himself. Having a powerful Demigod under him who refused to obey was indeed dangerous.
Leda fell silent, while Nolan slowly walked to the edge of the balcony and gazed at the dark-clouded sky outside.
The sky was gloomy, as if covered by a heavy gray curtain, and an endless downpour fell in urgent sheets.
Raindrops struck the ground with a sharp patter, splashing water everywhere. The storm had come fiercely, with no sign of stopping.
The time had not yet come. Malenia had only just awakened from a long sleep, and both her body and mind needed time to adjust.
Barring any surprises, that blade was sharpening herself now.
But amid the rain, a deep rumble suddenly echoed.
The knights raised their heads one after another, looking toward the sky as they tried to find the source of the sound.
It was not the roar of thunder, but something lower, heavier, and far more terrifying.
Within the clouds, the shape of some enormous creature could faintly be seen roaring in the dark sky.
This was clearly no ordinary beast, but a colossal, violent, and dangerous monster.
Bitter ice and snow pierced the darkness in an instant, as if the world had passed from autumn into winter in the span of a single breath.
The winged beast revealed a vast shadow in the sky. Shrouded in a sea of cloud and mist, the massive thing sped over Elphael at astonishing speed.
"...A Flying Dragon!?" The knights frowned. The first thing they did was turn and roar to everyone, "It's too fast. This isn't an ordinary Flying Dragon! Ready the bolts!"