The announcer barely gave the room time to breathe.

"In accordance with the statutes of the Hero's Path," he said, "the Gremory Hero Candidate will now present his designated party."

A ripple of anticipation passed through the auditorium.

Fritz hesitated—just for a fraction of a second.

Then Princess Taylor Gremory stepped forward.

The movement alone drew eyes.

She stood beside Fritz, posture straight, hands folded behind her back. The simple act of standing there confirmed everything.

She was a member.

"Our party will consist of four," she said calmly.

She turned, gesturing to her left.

"Lady Amelia Grandal."

Amelia stepped forward without pause.

The reaction was immediate—confusion layered over expectation. Whispers flared and died just as quickly. Some had clearly assumed this was where the announcement would end.

It didn't.

Taylor's gaze shifted.

"Jay Ferris."

The name landed strangely.

No explanation or house titles.

Jay stepped forward stiffly, offering a brief nod to no one in particular. The crowd didn't know what to make of him—most didn't know who he was at all.

Taylor let that discomfort linger.

Then—

"And Ryn Eden Arctis."

Ryn moved at once, stepping forward to join the line.

The murmurs sharpened. Recognition sparked in waves across the auditorium. Most realized he was the other Arctis child.

Taylor took one more step forward.

"These four," she said evenly, "will act as the operational core of the Gremory Hero Party."

A pause.

Just long enough.

"And its Captain—"

Several heads turned toward her.

She didn't acknowledge it.

"—will be Ryn Eden Arctis."

…

The shift was immediate.

Ryn felt it more than he heard it. Whispers flew across the auditorium. Many questioned the Princess' decisions—others called her insane.

Ryn met her gaze for a brief moment.

Taylor smiled sheepishly, knowing what it meant for Ryn.

Then she stepped back into line.

And just like that, the structure was no longer theoretical.

It was public.

Gremory's Hero Candidate was Fritz Calder.

And its Captain—

Was Ryn Eden Arctis.

The announcer did not wait for the noise to settle.

"Let it be recorded," he said, his voice carrying across the hall,

"That by decree of the Five Churches and the assent of the Six Factions,

the Hero's Path now begins."

***

The ceremony did not truly end.

Only that it did for the public.

Officials moved first, guiding Hero Candidates and their parties away from the auditorium while the crowd was still trying to decide how it felt. Applause followed them only halfway down the corridor before giving way to murmurs and speculation.

Ryn walked at the front of Gremory's group without thinking about it.

No one corrected him.

A familiar presence drifted into step beside him.

"Getting a little too comfortable already?" Princess Taylor Gremory asked lightly.

Ryn didn't slow. "Don't even get me started."

They walked in silence for a moment before he spoke again.

"You're testing me, aren't you?"

"Obviously," Taylor said. "If I weren't, this would be irresponsible."

"And if I fail?" Ryn asked.

She tilted her head, considering—then smiled.

"Then I lose nothing."

The words were identical to what he said before, but her tone carried an edge of humor this time.

"You become a misjudgment," she continued.

"An ambitious captain who overreached. A convenient explanation. I'll recover."

Ryn nodded once. "Figured."

"But," Taylor added, her voice brightening just a fraction, "if you succeed…"

She turned her head fully toward him now.

"Then I gain a Hero," she said, "and a wildcard."

Ryn glanced at her. "You're quoting me."

She laughed softly. "You did say it very confidently."

They walked in silence for a few steps.

"You told me," Taylor continued, "that you'd make Fritz Calder the next Hero."

"I meant it," Ryn said.

"I know," she replied. "And something tells me that you might actually do it."

She gestured ahead, where Fritz and the others waited.

"Besides," Taylor went on, "doesn't this role achieve exactly what you wanted?"

"A man's got to stick to his words," she added lightly.

Ryn let out a slow breath.

…She really was in his head.

They stepped into a smaller chamber.

Stone walls enclosed the room on all sides, broken only by a single table of pale marble set at its center. The Five Popes were already seated by the time the Hero Candidates and their parties entered.

Opposite them stood six chairs, arranged neatly—one for each Captain.

Ryn drew in a breath and held it for a moment.

Public, he reminded himself.

An official pulled a chair out for him.

Ryn sat carefully, posture a touch stiff, hands settling in his lap as if he weren't entirely sure where to put them.

No one said anything.

And that, somehow, made it worse.

The other Captains sat down, each and every one of them seemed competent—military strategists, crown advisors, all intellectuals that Ryn doubted had ever smiled a day in their life.

He stood out immediately, exactly what he wanted.

Ryn glanced to the side, noticing the Spirit Party's seats were empty.

Strange.

He set the thought aside. This wasn't the moment.

Silence settled once all five Captains were seated.

Rokhan's Pope leaned forward slightly, folding his hands atop the marble table.

"We will begin with ground rules," he said. "Not explanations."

No one interrupted.

"The Hero's Path will take place across four designated locations," the Pope continued.

"These locations may be visited in any order, at the discretion of each party."

A brief pause followed, just long enough for the implication to sink in.

"The final location, Raias, will always be last."

Ryn's shoulders stiffened almost imperceptibly.

"There will be no exceptions."

Mystia's Pope spoke next, her voice measured.

"There is no fixed schedule. Parties may remain in any location for as long as they deem necessary. Movement between locations is unrestricted."

"Your parties are fixed," Helena's Pope said. "Replacements require Church approval. Losses incurred along the Path are permanent."

Ryn felt a flicker of surprise.

A Church devoted to Life, speaking of loss without hesitation.

Something else had to be going on.

He kept his gaze forward, hands resting still in his lap.

"Direct conflict between Hero Parties is forbidden," the Brandt's Pope said.

That drew a subtle reaction around the table—an intake of breath here, a slight shift there.

"Any party that initiates combat against another will be disqualified immediately."

Then—

"However," the Brandt's Pope continued, "the Path does not prohibit indirect interference."

The silence that followed was heavier than before.

No clarification was offered.

None was needed.

Rhea's Pope spoke at last.

Deep shadows hung beneath his eyes, and every movement carried the weight of exhaustion—as if the years had caught up to him all at once…

Even if he was Maria's older brother, this was too much.

"You probably all have a burning question," he continued.

"Why was the Hero's Ceremony suddenly changed?"

Rhea's Pope let the question hang.

Not for drama, for confirmation.

"Because the circumstances changed," he said.

A murmur stirred at the edges of the room, quickly stilled.

"For the past six months," the Pope continued, "no new Blessing Tomes have manifested."

Ryn's fingers curled.

Blessing Tomes were not rare. They were expected. Their appearance was so constant that most people never questioned it. Entire academies were built around the assumption that new Blessings would continue to emerge.

"That cessation," the Pope said, "has occurred across every territory."

His gaze moved slowly across the assembled Captains.

"Under every god."

Someone shifted in their seat. Another clenched their hands together. The reaction came not from disbelief, but from understanding exactly what those words implied.

"When Blessing Tomes stop appearing, it has only ever been recorded under one circumstance."

The room had gone completely still.

"It is considered a universal omen," he said. "One recognized by every church, regardless of doctrine."

"This time," the Pope said, his voice heavier now, "the gods did not remain silent."

He straightened, exhaustion evident beneath the composure.

"Each of our churches received a message."

Ryn's fingers curled once against his knee.

"The wording," the Pope said, "was identical."

"A Hero is required," the Pope said.

The words landed with finality.

"For the coming calamity."

A heavy silence followed.

Ryn kept his expression carefully neutral, posture unchanged. Around him, murmurs broke across the parties.

But Ryn wasn't listening anymore.

Because he already knew what this meant.

In his past life, this had happened before.

This was the beginning, the signal of only one thing:

The Evernight was coming.

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