[POV: Ren Takashi]
[Location: The Grand Ballroom - The High Dais]
The music had stopped.
The floating violins lowered their bows. The chatter of the nobles died down, replaced by a reverent silence as King Alaric stood up from his golden throne.
Ren stood at the base of the stairs, flanked by his friends. He felt a sudden, cold sweat prickle the back of his neck. Beside him, Rika's hand was gripping his sleeve tightly—a silent signal that something was wrong.
"My people," King Alaric's voice boomed, amplified by wind magic. "Tonight, we celebrate a victory. But a King must always look to the tomorrow."
He smiled down at Ren. It was the smile of a predator looking at a very expensive meal.
"The Hero, Ren Takashi, has proven his strength. But strength must be anchored. It must be woven into the very fabric of Altherion to ensure that even when the darkness comes, the light remains."
The King extended a hand toward his daughter. Princess Elara stood up. She was glowing, her violet eyes fixed on Ren with that terrifying, worshipful intensity.
"Therefore," the King announced, "it is my great joy to announce the betrothal of the Hero, Ren Takashi, to my daughter, the First Princess Elara."
The room exploded.
Applause thundered against the vaulted ceiling. Nobles cheered. Ladies wept. It was a perfect, storybook ending. The Hero marries the Princess. The Kingdom is saved.
But in the center of the noise, there was a vacuum of silence.
Daigo dropped his goblet. It shattered on the marble floor.
Toru choked on a shrimp.
Rika went rigid. Her nails dug through Ren's velvet jacket and into his skin. She didn't breathe. She didn't blink. She just stared at the Princess with a look of pure, unadulterated devastation.
Ren felt the world tilt.
Marry?
Me?
I'm seventeen.
He looked at Elara. She was beaming, curtsying deeply to the crowd. She knew. She had known this whole time. That's why she held his hand in the courtyard. That's why she looked at him with "hope."
He wasn't a person to her. He was a husband-shaped solution to an apocalypse.
"Ren!" Daigo hissed. "Dude! Say something!"
"I..." Ren's throat was dry.
He looked at the King, who was raising a glass for a toast. He looked at the nobles, who were already looking at him with envy and calculation.
Then he looked at Rika.
She was pale. Her eyes were wide, filled with a panic he had never seen, not even against the Basilisk. She looked like she was watching him fall off a cliff.
You promised we'd go home together, she had whispered on the balcony.
Something hot and fierce rose in Ren's chest. It wasn't the [Divine Aura]. It was anger.
"No," Ren said.
The amplification magic hadn't been turned off. His voice, though quiet, cut through the applause like a knife.
The clapping died instantly.
King Alaric froze, his goblet halfway to his lips. "Excuse me, Hero?"
Ren stepped forward. He didn't bow. He didn't kneel. He stood straight, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.
"I said no," Ren repeated, his voice shaking but growing louder. "I cannot accept this honor, Your Majesty."
A gasp rippled through the crowd. A commoner rejecting the Princess? It was unheard of. It was treason.
"Ren," the King's smile didn't waver, but his eyes turned to ice. "Perhaps the excitement has addled your senses. This is the highest honor Altherion can bestow. You refuse the hand of the Royal Family?"
"I refuse a marriage without love," Ren said clearly.
He looked at Elara. Her smile faltered. She looked confused, like a doll that had been dropped.
"Princess Elara is... beautiful," Ren said, trying to be diplomatic. "And kind. But she is a stranger to me. I am a human being, Your Majesty. Not a prize to be awarded."
Ren took a deep breath. He turned slightly, his gaze locking onto Rika.
"And..." Ren's voice softened. "There is already someone. Someone I care for. Someone who has fought beside me in the dark when there was no applause."
Rika's breath hitched. A flush of color returned to her pale cheeks. She stared at him, her lips parting in shock.
"My heart is taken," Ren declared to the silent room. "I will give my sword to this Kingdom. I will give my blood to this war. But my heart? That is mine to give. And I will not trade it for a crown."
Silence. Absolute, suffocating silence.
The nobles looked at the King, waiting for the execution order.
King Alaric stared at Ren. For a second, the mask slipped. The "Benevolent Father" vanished, replaced by a frustrated warlord who had just been told his favorite siege engine had an opinion.
But he was a politician. He saw the way the students—Daigo, Toru, Reiji—were stepping closer to Ren, forming a protective wall. He saw the way Ren's hand drifted to his sword hilt.
To arrest the Hero now would be to lose the war before it started.
"Hah!" King Alaric let out a booming, forced laugh. "A romantic! Truly, a Hero of passion!"
The King lowered his glass.
"I apologize, Ren. In my eagerness to secure the future, I forgot the fiery heart of youth. We shall not speak of binding contracts tonight."
He waved his hand dismissively.
"Let the music play! Let the Heroes celebrate!"
The music started again, but it was strained. The nobles returned to their conversations, but their eyes were darting toward Ren, whispering.
He rejected the King.
He has a lover? The Rogue girl?
Foolish boy.
"Come," a Royal Guard stepped up to Ren. "His Majesty requests a private audience. Immediately."
Ren nodded. He grabbed Rika's hand.
"She comes with me," Ren said.
"And me," Itsuki stepped up, adjusting his glasses. "As the party's strategist."
"And me," Reiji added, his face grim. "As the Vanguard Commander."
The Guard hesitated, then nodded. "Follow me."
[Location: The Royal Drawing Room - Private Quarters]
The heavy oak doors slammed shut, cutting off the music of the party.
The room was opulent, filled with velvet chairs and portraits of ancestors. King Alaric stood by the fireplace, his back to them. Queen Valerica sat stiffly on a sofa. Princess Elara was standing by the window, looking out, her back turned.
And Prince Valerius was leaning against a desk, cleaning his glasses.
"That," the King turned around, his face red with suppressed rage, "was a spectacular display of insolence, boy."
"I spoke the truth," Ren held his ground, squeezing Rika's hand. Rika squeezed back so hard it hurt.
"Truth?" Prince Valerius scoffed softly. He put his glasses back on. "Truth is a luxury for peacetime. We are at war."
Valerius walked over to them. He looked at Ren, then at Rika.
"You think this is a fairytale, Ren Takashi? You think the King offered you his daughter because he thought you would make a cute couple?"
"I think he wants to control me," Ren said.
"He wants to secure you," Valerius corrected coldl. "The 'Hero' class is not just a title. It is a biological anomaly. Your mana capacity, your stat growth, your [Divine Skills]... they are genetic assets."
Rika stiffened. "Genetic assets?"
"If Ren dies tomorrow," Valerius said bluntly, "Altherion loses its only weapon against the Demon Lord. But if he has an heir... a child with his bloodline... then the hope survives."
Valerius gestured to Elara.
"The First Wife must be of Royal Blood to ensure the child has a claim to the throne. That is non-negotiable. Altherion must control the Hero's lineage to prevent civil war."
"First... wife?" Ren blinked.
"Did you think you would only have one?" Valerius raised an eyebrow. "You are a Hero. Your duty is to populate the next generation of warriors. The High Priestess has already selected three other candidates from the noble houses. High mana potential. Optimal traits."
Ren felt sick. He looked at Rika. She looked like she was about to vomit.
"You want to turn him into a stud horse," Rika whispered, her voice trembling with fury. "You don't want a Hero. You want a breeding program."
"We want survival!" King Alaric roared, slamming his fist on the mantelpiece. "Do you know what is coming? The Demon Lord isn't a fairytale dragon! It is a force that wiped out the last three civilizations! We need power! We need insurance!"
"I am right here!" Ren shouted back. "I am fighting! Isn't that enough?"
"It is enough for today," the Queen spoke for the first time. Her voice was icy. "But what about ten years from now? What about when you are old, or crippled, or dead?"
Princess Elara turned from the window. Her face was tear-stained, but her eyes were hard.
"I accept it," Elara said softly.
Ren looked at her. "What?"
"I accept my duty," Elara walked toward him. She didn't look lovestruck anymore. She looked like a soldier marching to a suicide mission. "I do not know you, Ren. I do not love you. But I love my people. If bearing your children ensures their safety... I will do it. Gladly."
She looked at Rika.
"You love him," Elara said. "That is sweet. You can be his mistress. Or his second wife, if your mana aptitude is high enough. The Kingdom does not forbid affection. Only the bloodline matters."
Rika let go of Ren's hand. She took a step back, looking at them—the King, the Prince, the Princess—like they were monsters worse than the Basilisk.
"You people are sick," Rika hissed. "You're actually sick."
"We are pragmatic," Valerius said. "And you, Rogue, are a variable. You distract the Asset."
Valerius looked at Ren.
"Think about it, Hero. You rejected the King tonight. We will let it slide as 'youthful ignorance.' But the offer stands. It must stand."
"I need time," Ren said, his voice hollow. He felt trapped. The walls of the luxurious room felt like the bars of a cage. "I can't... I can't process this right now."
"Take the night," King Alaric waved his hand wearily. "Go to your quarters. But remember, Ren Takashi... you belong to the world now. And the world takes what it needs."
[Location: Hero's Quarters - Ren's Room]
Ren sat on the edge of his massive, four-poster bed. The silk sheets felt like cobwebs.
The room was dark. Reiji and Itsuki had gone to their own rooms, silent and grim. Rika had refused to leave him at the door until he promised he was okay, but the look in her eyes—the fear that he might eventually agree—haunted him.
First Wife. Second Wife. Breeding program.
He looked at his hands.
Is this what it means to be a Hero? To be a tool?
He remembered Sora's words on the balcony.
'The banquet is fake. The hardtack is real.'
"You were right, Sora," Ren whispered to the empty room. "God, you were right."
He lay back, staring at the painted ceiling depicting angels fighting demons.
He felt a profound sense of isolation. Even with Rika's love, even with his friends... he was alone in this cage. The system, the Kingdom, the Royals—they were all gears in a machine designed to crush him into a diamond.
He closed his eyes, but sleep didn't come. Only the image of Elara's tear-stained, determined face, and Rika's horrified eyes.
The Basilisk had been easier. You could just stab the Basilisk.
You couldn't stab a Kingdom.
[Location: The Rusty Tankard Inn - Room 4]
Miles away, in a room that smelled of mildew and cold water, Sora Amano lay on a straw mattress.
He was staring at the cracked ceiling.
He didn't know about the marriage proposal. He didn't know about the eugenics program. But as he lay there, fingering the hilt of his machete under the pillow, he felt a strange chill.
"Something's wrong," Sora muttered.
He turned over, pulling the thin blanket up.
Tomorrow was the Guild Exam. Tomorrow, he started his climb.
While the Hero lay awake in a palace worrying about the fate of his bloodline, the Rat fell asleep in a slum, dreaming of nothing but the next coin.
The divide had never been wider.