Ron's reading lasted through the night. The candles burned low, their wax melting into silent pools as dawn painted the sky gold.
At Sunrise
In his chamber, King Alberto knelt in prayer. His voice was low, trembling with devotion and fear.
"The True Black Sorcerer… I have found a vessel for you. He is the one the Old Man sought to meet—the same old man you warned me about."
He closed his eyes and imagined Ron.
The candle flames before him flared, shifting from orange to deep purple.
"Thank you… for your help with our empire," he whispered, as the air thickened with a strange heat.
Meanwhile
Iris, Princess of the Song Empire, had spent the night with Prince Henry of the Recroun Empire.
They had been secretly in love for years.
As dawn broke, the two walked through the royal gardens, the air filled with the scent of dew and roses.
"Henry," Iris said softly. "There's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time."
Henry brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Tell me. Since you arrived, your mind seems elsewhere."
Iris hesitated, her eyes glistening.
"My father… my brother… even my elder brother, the crown prince. They're all planning to destroy this kingdom."
Henry stopped in shock.
"What?"
Iris continued, her voice shaking.
"They're preparing to summon an ancient being. According to my father, it was that being who granted our ancestors the power to build our empire."
Henry frowned.
"And what does this summoning have to do with our kingdom?"
"I don't know. But my father said the Old Man is too powerful. The ancient being, once awakened, could destroy him. That's what they believe."
Henry's expression hardened.
"Why are you telling me this now? Why not before?"
Iris dropped to her knees, tears spilling.
"I never wanted to lie to you. I was afraid of that being. But now that I've spoken… my father will know. They're all loyal to—"
Before she could finish, Henry knelt and pulled her into his arms.
"You have me. Stay with me. I'll protect you. I'm not weak—I've mastered fire and wind."
Iris clung to him tightly, crying into his chest.
After a long silence, they stood. Together, they ran to King Charles, determined to reveal everything.
Elsewhere
In the bustling heart of the city, Ron sat at a familiar ramen stall. Steam rose from his bowl as he ate quietly.
"One bowl, please," came a deep voice.
Ron looked up — and froze.
It was King Alberto himself.
The people nearby bowed instantly, whispering and staring, but Ron remained seated, glaring up at the king.
King Alberto met his gaze silently.
The tension broke when Ron slurped his noodles.
Without a word, Alberto sat beside him.
"One bowl for me as well," Ron said.
Moments later, both were served. They began to eat — fast, fierce, relentless.
The crowd gathered, astonished, as the king and the mysterious wanderer battled in bowls.
Five bowls later, both dropped their chopsticks at the same time.
Ron chuckled.
"You're tougher than you look."
King Alberto smiled faintly.
"And I didn't expect anyone to push me this far."
The crowd erupted in laughter and cheers as the two sat there, panting and smiling — two men on opposite sides of fate, sharing breakfast at sunrise. After the ramen battle, as Ron stood up to leave, King Alberto called to him,
"Hey, kid. I want to talk to you." King Alberto's voice cut through the hum of the street.
"Nah, I'll pass." He turned to leave.
The crowd gasped.
Someone whispered, "He just rejected the King…"
"I am the King of the Song Empire," Alberto said sharply. "There is something important I wish to discuss with you."
Ron stopped mid-step, then slowly turned around. "Sure," he said casually. "Why not."
They sat across from each other at a quiet café nearby. The tension was thick as fog.
"So, King of the... single empire, was it?" Ron asked with a faint smirk.
"It's Song Empire," Alberto corrected, his tone icy.
"My mistake, Your Majesty."
"I'll get straight to the point." Alberto leaned forward. "Join me."
"No thanks," Ron replied without hesitation.
Alberto blinked. "Pardon? You should at least think for a second. How much is King Charles paying you? I'll triple it. You'll live well—be my right-hand man. And then—"
"—you'll use me as a vessel for that True Black Sorcerer or whatever his name is?" Ron interrupted, voice suddenly cold.
The air froze. The café went silent. Even the breeze outside seemed to stop.
"You... know?" Alberto whispered.
A Few Hours Earlier
Knock. Knock.
"Ron, it's me. Open the door—it's urgent."
No response.
The Old Man kicked the door open. Ron jolted awake, blinking. "Who are—oh, Old Man. You scared me. What's going on?"
"Listen carefully, Ron." The Old Man's expression was grave. "King Alberto plans to use you as a vessel for the True Black Sorcerer."
Ron's eyes widened.
"Once that being awakens, nothing can stop him," the Old Man continued. "Not even all the Beyonders combined. The only chance we have is to stop the one trying to revive him."
The Old man looked at Ron, he was sleeping.
"Ron" He roared, it jolted Ron awake. "Did you here what I said?"
"Yes, King Alberto wants to revive a sorcerer and you are his vessel. That's it by goodnight." Ron says and fell on the bed. The Old man takes a few steps and pulls his cane on Ron's head.