Leading the way down the hallway where the torches had not yet been extinguished, Thesaya suddenly looked back over her shoulder and smiled.

"You’re probably the only lord who doesn’t even know what his castle looks like, Ian."

Having no real rebuttal, Ian merely clicked his tongue and kept walking.

The castle interior was quiet, both from the barely breaking dawn and the lingering exhaustion of the days-long festival. It was, in truth, exactly the situation Ian had wanted.

As they rounded the corner of the hallway toward the entrance, Thesaya’s lips curled upward. "As expected, things move quickly with Prosthetic joining in."

Ian nodded lightly.

Beyond the hallway, a carriage stood waiting by the entrance, ready for immediate departure. Nasser and Miguel had left their rooms barely thirty minutes earlier, yet everything was already perfectly prepared.

"Guess that’s the mercenary background. At least he’s efficient at—hmm?" Thesaya tilted her head.

Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly. Outside the entrance, along the side out of sight from the hallway, he could sense presence waiting.

"I have nothing to do with this, Ian," Thesaya whispered quickly, slowing her steps and slipping subtly behind him.

Who said you did?

"You’ve come, Archduke. Elder... Sir."

As expected, it was Seras waiting for them. Behind her stood Phaden, looking somewhat weary, and Asme, as expressionless as ever. Miguel was there as well, likely having been roped in since he was near the driver’s seat.

"I thought yesterday’s farewell was sufficient." Ian stopped beside the carriage and turned to her.

Thesaya and Mev, who had come to stand at his side, gave slight bows.

"When the Archduke is departing, how could his representative remain asleep?" Seras bent her knees lightly in return, then looked back up at Ian. "Especially after receiving such a valuable parting gift."

She clearly meant the spellcasters of the Red Magic Tower. Ian had practically wrapped them up and handed them over.

He shrugged. "I trust you’ll make good use of them."

"I’ll do my utmost to live up to your expectations." Seras’s eyes curved with a smile.

Judging by Thesaya’s chuckle, the two of them had undoubtedly schemed together the previous night.

They would dangle seats and funding like bait and squeeze the spellcasters dry.

"Once you leave, it will feel rather empty. A little frightening, even. As though the strongest wall protecting us has vanished."

At her added words, Ian suppressed a snort.

Exaggerating already,

"You’ll find it far more comfortable without me. Perhaps not immediately, but it won’t take long," said Ian.

"Will I? Well, perhaps the councilors and retainers might feel that way. I would be easier to approach than you, Archduke."

Ian’s mouth quivered upward. "You sound as though you’re hoping for that."

"Oh dear. Caught again," Seras answered in a near whisper, a smile on her lips.

Clearly, she intended to secure her hold over the council in a manner befitting royalty. Ian watched the life gleaming in her red eyes for a moment, then gave a small nod.

"That puts my mind at ease. Do well."

"You place such trust in my abilities that I hardly know where to stand. I shall take it as a reminder not to treat lightly the weight of the crown you’ve lent me." Seras inclined her head slightly, the steel circlet upon her brow catching the dim morning light.

Ian let out a faint laugh and shrugged. "Well, if you find yourself unwilling to return it, you may keep wearing it."

"To treat a crown as though it were a burden—you’re the only one on the entire continent who would." Seras let out a chuckle. It was clear she now understood that he meant it sincerely.

Meeting her smile once more, Ian bent his knees in a slight bow.

"Then I’ll leave that burden in your care."

"I will do my utmost, Archduke." Seras bent her knees once more in a formal bow. Though she was smiling, her eyes were solemn as they held Ian’s.

Straightening, she lowered her voice. "I know well what you expect of me. I will prepare and wait for the right moment."

‘"I’ll wait for your message. And this time, pay attention to the allocation of pages." Ian added it with a small nod.

Seras let out a soft laugh. Just then, Phaden stepped forward and opened the carriage door.

Ian approached and paused, looking down at him as the knight held it steady with lowered head. "Apologies for leaving you behind in the cold, Sir."

"It’s nothing. Thank you for granting me the opportunity, Your Grace. I wish you fortune in battle."

Phaden’s voice did not sound merely dutiful.

Seems something’s shifted in him.

Ian inclined his head and stepped into the carriage.

"Until we meet again, Your Highness."

"May the blessings of heaven be with you, Elder."

Thesaya, having exchanged farewells with Seras, followed him inside.

No sooner had Ian settled into the cushioned seat and glanced to the side than his eyes narrowed slightly.

Seras’s profile, seen through the open doorway, had taken on a curious expression. It was not hard to guess she was looking at Mev.

Click.

Just as she seemed about to say something, Phaden shut the door. The sounds from outside vanished at once.

Soundproofing isn’t always a blessing.

Ian clicked his tongue.

A low exclamation came from across the carriage. "She packed the liquor tightly. As expected, Her Highness is thoughtful."

Of course, it was Thesaya. She had already begun rummaging through the storage compartment beneath the seat.

Inside were not only bottles but also neatly stacked preserved rations. At a glance, there was enough for the entire group to eat comfortably for a month.

"We’re setting off," said Miguel, having opened the small sliding window to the driver’s seat.

Before Ian could respond, it shut again, and the carriage began to move.

"You’d think I’d grow tired of it by now, but whenever it’s time to depart on a journey, my heart still races," said Thesaya as she settled into the seat opposite him, pulling the cork from a bottle.

She took a swallow, brushed her silver hair back from her face, and looked at him. "Maybe we’re just not meant to settle in one place."

"That’s the saddest part," Ian answered flatly, leaning back against their seat. His gaze drifted up to the ceiling.

What looked like intricate patterns were in fact dense spell circuits woven across the interior. Even with all the shutters closed, the carriage was softly lit because of them.

"Is it, though? You’re the one who never intends to settle, Ian."

Thesaya extended the bottle toward him.

"Even when there’s a chance to stay somewhere comfortably, you’re always thinking about the next destination. Maybe we all just caught your wanderer’s disease."

"Thank you for making it even sadder, Thesa," Ian said with a wry tone.

Thesaya grinned, showing her teeth, and shrugged. "Don’t mention it. I’ve told you before—I don’t mind. Compared to being locked away at my family estate and drowning in obligations, this life feels a hundred, no, a thousand times more alive."

Of course it does.

Letting out a long sigh through his nose, Ian lifted the bottle to his lips.

There was relief in shedding the unwanted crown and the suffocating attention that came with it. However, returning to a life of wandering did not fill him with joy.

At moments like this, he still found himself aching for the tiny studio apartment he once had—small, cramped, but containing everything he needed.

Ian swallowed his wine with faint bitterness.

Thesaya then spoke almost casually. "They’re going to reinforce and preserve the graves of the fallen."

When he shifted his gaze toward her, she tilted her head. "In Calbrook. We buried so many inside, remember? And planted the weapons that lost their owners in place of headstones. The council’s first agenda item is to designate it the Sanctuary of the Guardians."

"That’s an excellent first move," Ian replied.

Seras herself had stood on that battlefield. Public sentiment would swing in her favor almost instantly.

Thesaya nodded. "Exactly. Mercy outwardly, tight reins inwardly. She’s sharper than she looks. Then again..." She met his eyes with a faint smile. "That’s precisely why you trusted her with that seat."

"Don’t worry about that side of things." Ian tossed the bottle back to her with his Willful Grasp. "Let’s focus on completing our plan safely. It won’t be easy."

"What is there for me to think about?" Thesaya caught the bottle and shrugged. "We don’t even know what’s inside. And you’re the only one who knows how to get in."

"True." Resting his chin on his hand, Ian turned his gaze aside.

He alone knew what was happening within the Gray Magic Tower. And since he couldn’t reveal how he knew, the burden of that knowledge remained his alone.

Time has passed. It’s probably worse now than I remember.

He did not dwell long on those fading memories.

A knock sounded against the closed door beside them. Ian slid open the small window set into it, revealing Nasser’s ever-smirking eyes.

"My lord. I believe you’ll need to switch places with me for a moment."

"Why?"

"I’m afraid I can’t tell you the reason just yet." Though his brow tightened slightly, Ian shut the window without further comment.

Thesaya, sipping her wine, watched him with a knowing smile. "It seems the princess wasn’t the only one who came to see you off."

Instead of answering, Ian let out a long sigh through his nose. He had suspected as much.

"Looks like some people stayed up all night..."

Quite the stamina for the last day.

He pulled open the carriage door on the left.

Walking abreast of the carriage as if shielding the view was Nila. Nasser stood on one stirrup, facing him.

"Don’t look around. Just come this way. And if you can, smile broadly," said Nasser.

Ian snorted and leaned out. "Stop talking nonsense and move."

Nasser hopped down from the footrest beside the carriage. The moment Ian set his foot in Nila’s stirrup, Nasser slipped inside the carriage and shut the door behind him.

"Long live the Northern Demigod—Archduke Ian Hope!"

The thunderous cry rang out just as Ian settled into the saddle.

"Long live the Archduke!"

"Golden Demigod!"

"Oooooo!"

Cheers erupted from all sides.

Ian, who had paused in surprise, finally took in the sight beyond the carriage and Nila.

Under a sky steadily brightening with dawn, the broad avenue stretched ahead, its sides packed shoulder to shoulder with the people of the city.

Even through the haze of drink and exhaustion, they were shouting his many names at the top of their lungs. There was no need to point out that barbarian warriors and soldiers of the garrison were thoroughly mixed in the crowd.

However, that wasn’t why Ian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

That... surely that isn’t...

Tall flagpoles rising across the city had caught his eye. Long white banners hung from them, each bearing an unfamiliar emblem.

A golden circle, flanked by yellow wings on either side, with a red ring set within.

As I thought. It’s mine.

As Ian looked around at the other banners marked with the same design, a hollow laugh finally slipped from his lips. The white field stood for the North. The golden ring and the wings symbolized the Agent of the Saint and the Golden Demigod. And the red circle within could only represent Karha’s Great Warrior.

A new banner of the North had been born.

When in the world did they even...

As the roaring cheers echoed like a resonance in his chest, Ian’s gaze drifted back toward the carriage. Miguel, seated at the driver’s bench, was grinning at him. And beyond the roof, on the opposite side, riding alongside, Mev wore much the same expression.

Whether they were all co-conspirators or simply enjoying the spectacle, he couldn’t tell.

Meeting his gaze, Mev subtly jerked her chin forward.

There was no need to think too hard about what she meant. Smacking his lips, Ian turned back to the main road. After a brief hesitation, he raised his right arm. It was easier than forcing a smile.

"Oooooo!"

"Demigod of the North!"

"Return safely! Great Warrior!"

That alone was enough to send the cheers surging even louder.

The cries that filled the city from early morning did not fade even after Ian passed through the gates.

"Looks like they won’t stop until they can’t hear you anymore," Miguel muttered at last, glancing sidelong between the soldiers on the walls waving flagpoles and Ian’s faintly uncomfortable expression.

"Just so we’re clear, in case you’re wondering...."

It was then that Thesaya’s voice drifted out from a carriage window that had quietly slid open.

She pushed it wider and held a bottle out as she added, "I didn’t do anything, Ian."

"The flags?" Ian shot back flatly.

Thesaya’s arm froze midair. Meeting his eyes, she hurried to explain. "I didn’t make them. It was a group decision."

"We need a rallying point to unite every faction," Mev added calmly.

Looking back at Ian over the carriage roof, she gave him a faint smile. "Before long, everyone who’s joined hands with you will recognize one another by that emblem."

Nice excuse.

Clicking his tongue inwardly as he looked at her, Ian drew the bottle to his hand with the Willful Grasp.

"So now we just cut across the frontier and head down, is that it?" asked Miguel just as Ian lifted the bottle to his lips.

Before he could answer, Thesaya cut in quickly, "That’s right. So just keep going, Prosthetic. You know the road already, don’t you?"

"Of course I do. It’s been a while since I left the North. It feels exciting. Heh." With a chuckle, Miguel turned his head forward again.

Ian lowered the bottle and stared at Thesaya.

Wearing a mischievous grin, she opened the carriage door and whispered, "Just give me one day, Ian."

So she’s determined to have fun.

Ian stepped up into the stirrup without complaint.

The cheers still faintly echoed behind him as he cast one last look over Travelga, now draped in its new banners.