After Jester vanished—
The chamber remained silent for a few moments.
Then—
Xenovar gave a few final instructions.
Short.
Precise.
The meeting was dismissed soon after.
—
Now—
Only four remained inside the royal chamber.
Xenovar.
Fiona.
William.
And Ragnar.
Ragnar stood by the window.
Looking out at the kingdom below.
For once—
There was no smile.
"…So Enzo is dead."
His voice was low.
Solemn.
He turned.
Facing Xenovar.
"My condolences."
A brief pause.
"…I should've been there."
Xenovar shook his head.
"It's fine, Ragnar."
His voice was calm.
But colder than before.
"I just hope Enzo finds peace."
A beat.
Then—
"I'll kill that clown myself."
Ragnar smiled faintly.
Not mocking.
Not amused.
Just… familiar.
His old friend hadn't changed.
His gaze shifted to the others.
Fiona crossed her arms lightly.
"With your presence, Ragnar… Paradox wouldn't dare move."
"That's true."
Ragnar nodded once.
"But I'll be gone again for a while."
William frowned immediately.
"What?"
"You just came out of seclusion and you're leaving again?"
Ragnar let out a small laugh.
"Relax."
"This time won't be like before."
He stepped forward slowly.
"I won't be gone long."
Then—
His eyes drifted.
North.
Far beyond the kingdom.
"There's… an old friend I need to meet."
Fiona sighed softly.
"…I figured as much."
Ragnar waved lightly as he began walking toward the exit.
"I'll be back soon."
"Don't worry."
Just as he reached the doors—
Xenovar spoke.
"Ragnar."
He stopped.
Slightly.
"…Are you not going to meet them?"
The room stilled.
Fiona and William exchanged brief glances.
Confused.
Ragnar didn't turn.
For a moment—
He said nothing.
Then—
He looked up slightly.
"…I want to."
A faint pause.
"…I want to see how much those two have grown."
Silence.
"…But maybe later."
He continued walking.
And left the chamber.
Xenovar watched the closed doors.
A small, knowing smile forming.
'…So you still haven't forgiven yourself.'
'After all these years.'
'For what happened ten years ago…'
The room fell quiet once more.
But this time—
It wasn't tension.
It was something heavier.
Unresolved.
__
Soon—
Ragnar stepped out of the royal palace.
—
A massive crowd had gathered.
Far larger than before.
Word had already spread.
To humanity—
Ragnar wasn't just strong.
He was their pillar.
Their Shield.
Their Sword.
Someone they believed in.
The moment he appeared—
The crowd erupted.
Cheers.
Shouts.
His name echoed across the palace grounds.
"RAGNAR—!"
"The Sword King—!"
Ragnar paused for a moment.
Looking at them.
All of them.
And he smiled.
Not arrogantly.
Not proudly.
But simply—
Acknowledging them.
—
Then—
Without another word—
He stepped forward.
And vanished upward.
A shockwave of wind followed as he shot into the sky at a blazing speed, tearing through the clouds as he headed north.
Toward the Dragonic Kingdom.
The crowd watched.
Eyes filled with awe.
With hope.
Because as long as Ragnar Zephyr stood—
Humanity believed—
They would never fall.
__
The scene shifted back—
To the academy.
To Chrono's room.
—
The TV still played in the background.
Ragnar's figure fading from the broadcast.
Yelena suddenly grabbed the remote.
Click.
The screen went black.
—
"…That damn bastard."
Her voice trembled.
Irritated.
Furious.
"And after six years…"
"He doesn't even come to see us?"
Her grip tightened around the remote.
"How dare he."
A step forward.
"I swear—next time I see him…"
"I'll beat the shit out of him."
Chrono blinked.
Surprised.
He had never seen her like this before.
So… emotional.
So… open.
But what caught his attention wasn't the anger.
It was what lay beneath it.
Not hatred.
Not disdain.
Concern.
Sadness.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
'…What is their relationship?'
In the novel—
Ragnar Zephyr was a cold, distant figure.
A man who showed no affection.
And Yelena—
She had despised him.
Clearly.
Openly.
But this—
This wasn't that.
Chrono leaned back slightly.
His thoughts spiraling.
'Why did he adopt us?'
'Who are my real parents?'
A pause.
His expression darkened.
'…No.'
'That's not the real question.'
His gaze hardened.
'Who… am I?'
—
Silence filled the room.
Heavy.
Unanswered.
Too many questions.
Too many inconsistencies.
Too many things that didn't match the novel.
But one thing was clear.
If he wanted answers—
He needed power.
Status.
A position where he couldn't be ignored.
His mind settled.
Sharp.
Focused.
'Leon Ardent.'
Rank 1.
Chrono's eyes grew cold.
A quiet determination settling deep within him.
'That's the first step.'