The wind atop Valon Castle whipped gently at Charlotte's cloak as she stood before the balcony's stone rail. Below, the city pulsed like a single living creature — hundreds of thousands gathered in silence, waiting for her voice.

She inhaled slowly.

This wasn't the first time Valon had looked at her. But it was the first time she would speak before the world with full intention.

And her mind drifted — not far, just a little more than a year back — to the moment everything began.

To the alleyway.

To him.

To the first time Noel Thorne ever saw her.

The memory came vividly:

A figure smaller than him had rounded the church corner at full speed and smashed straight into his chest. Charlotte had stumbled back and hit the ground, dazed —

And her hood slipped off.

Pink hair spilled over her shoulders like scattered cherry blossoms on white stone.

Noel froze.

"…The Saint?"

Charlotte remembered how her heart nearly stopped. Wide eyes — her own — staring up at him. She didn't know him. He didn't know her. And yet he said it just like that. Like it was obvious.

Before he could say anything else, she had shot to her feet, grabbed his hand, and hissed:

"Come with me."

Noel had barely managed a confused: "What—?"

But she dragged him anyway, weaving between the church walls and the market stalls.

Only when she ducked into a narrow alleyway between two stone buildings did she stop.

And then — gods above — she pushed him gently against the wall.

Charlotte almost covered her face now, remembering how intense she had been.

Noel had stood frozen, staring at her like she'd just conjured a demon.

She remembered their closeness — far too close — her palm on his chest, eyes locked onto his, desperately searching for assurance, safety, anything.

He had looked at her like she was a magical anomaly.

"…Hello?" he'd said eventually. "Can I help you with something?"

It was almost funny now.

But back then?

She had been terrified. Cornered by duty. Running from the priests who intended to announce her as the new Saint that very day.

And Noel — completely innocent Noel — had become the random stranger she begged to hide her.

He didn't. In fact… he delivered her straight to the people looking for her.

For weeks, she secretly called him "Traitor."

But…

Charlotte's gaze softened.

If not for Noel, she never would have been allowed to postpone her role. She wouldn't have lived months as a regular student. She wouldn't have met Elena, Elyra, Selene. She wouldn't have laughed, studied, fought, cried, and grown alongside people she now loved.

She looked to her right.

Noel, Elena, Selene, Elyra — and Noir perched proudly on Noel's shoulder — all waited for her, trusting her, believing in her completely.

Charlotte exhaled.

This time, she wouldn't run. This time, she would stand as the Saint — because she chose to.

She stepped forward as the balcony doors opened.

The world hushed.

It was time.

The balcony doors swung open, and sunlight washed over Charlotte as she stepped out onto the high platform. The roar of the crowd tapered into a unified hush — the kind only given to kings… or saints.

Charlotte stood tall, shoulders steady, hands clasped in front of her. Wind caught strands of her pink hair, lifting them gently like soft banners.

For a moment, she simply looked at them.

At Valon.

Then her voice carried out over the balcony — clear, warm, unwavering:

"People of Valon… and citizens of the Empire."

The resonance of her tone traveled across the plaza, reaching even the furthest edges of the gathered masses.

"You saw the storms of recent months. You felt the uncertainty. You witnessed change in the air… and many of you feared what comes next."

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, but no one interrupted.

Charlotte went on:

"Today, I return to you not as a stranger, nor as someone hiding from her duty… but as the Saint of this generation. Ready to guide our era — with honesty, compassion, and the truth we need to grow."

The people listened — not with blind devotion, but with hope.

Charlotte paused, letting the words sink deep into every heart.

She was about to continue — but Noel had already stepped away from the balcony.

Because someone familiar had caught his eye.

A lone figure leaning carefully on the railing of the interior balcony walkway behind them — tall, black-haired, with eyes that held exhaustion and sharp intelligence all at once.

Nicolas von Aldros.

Noel blinked in surprise.

'What the hell… How is he even standing?'

He glanced once at the girls — all still focused on Charlotte — and silently slipped away from their side.

Elena noticed first. Elyra followed her gaze. Selene's eyes narrowed — then softened when they saw who Noel was approaching.

None of them stopped him.

They understood.

Charlotte continued speaking to the crowd, her voice echoing over Valon…

…but the focus now shifted to Noel.

To the conversation he was about to have with the man who had nearly died for the world.

And the world had no idea.

Noel approached quietly, stopping beside Nicolas.

"Seriously," he muttered. "How are you on your feet? You shouldn't even be here."

Nicolas slowly turned his head toward him — and smiled with genuine warmth.

Nicolas let out a quiet breath, the kind that carried both pain and amusement.

"It's been a while, Noel," he said, voice low but steady. "I figured this was… one of your situations."

Noel huffed. "Yeah. Something like that."

Nicolas's eyes softened as he studied him. "You always end up in the middle of the biggest storms. I shouldn't be surprised to find you here."

Noel crossed his arms, leaning against the railing beside him.

"Yeah, well… someone has to deal with this mess. Might as well be me."

Nicolas gave him a knowing look. "Because you care."

Noel didn't answer at first — but he didn't deny it.

His gaze drifted to the city below, where Charlotte's voice rose in steady waves, commanding the attention of hundreds of thousands.

"…I have people who matter to me," Noel said finally. "I can't just sit back and hope things go well. If there's danger, or change, or anything big — I have to be there. Even if it's inconvenient. Even if it's exhausting."

Nicolas chuckled softly. "You haven't changed." Then his expression softened. "And I'm glad you haven't."

Noel shot him a sideways glance. "What about the Academy? Want an update? Anything you're wondering about?"

Nicolas shook his head. "No. Daemar is handling things well. Better than anyone expected. Thanks to you, there won't be a repeat of what happened before."

Noel didn't argue — but he didn't take the credit either.

Nicolas's eyes narrowed slightly. "So then… what's next? After this speech?"

Noel stared straight ahead — toward the endless sea of people, toward the future Charlotte was shaping — and his voice dropped.

"…The Northern Isles."

Nicolas stiffened.

"That place," he whispered. "Dangerous?"

Noel didn't answer with words.

The expression in his eyes — cold, determined, unflinching — was enough.

Nicolas understood immediately.

"…I see," he murmured. "Then be careful, Noel. Don't take unnecessary risks."

Noel exhaled through his nose. "When do I ever?"

Nicolas raised a brow. Noel corrected himself.

"Okay, fine. When do I ever not?"

Nicolas laughed — a quiet, warm laugh that sounded like it hurt his ribs.

At that moment, a thunder of cheers erupted from the plaza below.

Charlotte had just finished speaking.

Nicolas glanced down toward her silhouette on the balcony, then back to Noel.

"It seems your girlfriend handled it flawlessly," he said with a knowing smile. "Though I imagine the rest of them are just as incredible."

Noel's ears warmed. "Yeah… they're amazing. And honestly insane for being with someone like me."

"I'm glad you have them," Nicolas said. "Take care of them, Noel. Not like I did."

The weight behind those words didn't need explanation.

Noel didn't ask about Redna.

He never would.

Instead, he nodded once — firm and sincere.

"I will."

Noel placed a hand on Nicolas's shoulder — careful, gentle, because the man's body still carried the wounds of battles the world didn't even know had happened.

"Try to hold on until everything's over," Noel said quietly. "When we finish this whole mess… we'll celebrate properly."

Nicolas blinked once, then smiled — a small, tired smile that reached his eyes.

Noel straightened a little and added, "And you really should rest. You're not exactly as young as I am."

He lifted his arm and flexed his bicep with a dead-serious expression.

Nicolas snorted. Actually snorted — then burst into a warm laugh that made him clutch his ribs.

"I'm old, not dead," he wheezed. "And stop showing off. My heart can't handle that level of arrogance."

"You started it," Noel shot back.

The two stood there, shoulder to shoulder, watching the last echoes of the crowd's cheers fade into murmurs. Far below, Charlotte stepped back from the podium, rejoining Elena, Elyra, Selene, and Noir. The girls spotted Noel up on the balcony — and Charlotte smiled upward at him.

Thumbs up. Bright and proud.

Noel returned the nod.

Nicolas watched her too. "She did beautifully. You chose well, Noel."

Noel exhaled softly. "More like… they chose me."

"Then cherish them," Nicolas murmured. "And don't face the Northern Isles alone."

Charlotte and the others were coming up the castle's inner stairs now. She met Noel's eyes again, her step light, her smile warmer than the sun over Valon.

"I'll head out," Nicolas said, turning carefully. "You have people waiting for you."

Noel nodded. "Yeah. See you later, Nicolas."

"Stay alive, Noel," Nicolas replied, voice warm but firm. "All of you."

He disappeared back into the castle hallways — leaving Noel with the distant hum of Valon, the weight of the upcoming Northern Isles…

and the sight of Charlotte and his girls approaching.

The world had changed today.

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.