CHAPTER 39 — Embers of Authority
Evening descended gently upon the town of Sito, painting the sky in warm hues of amber and violet. Lanterns flickered to life one after another, their soft glow reflecting off newly laid stone paths and half-finished buildings. The town felt alive—more alive than it ever had in recent memory.
It had been three days since their savior left.
Three days since the man the people whispered about in equal parts fear and reverence—the Elemental Devil—had walked out through the town gates without looking back.
And yet, his presence lingered everywhere.
Hammers rang against wood and stone. The scent of fresh lumber mixed with dust and mortar filled the air. Laughter echoed from newly opened stalls. Children ran freely through the streets without fear of monsters lurking beyond the walls. Traders called out to customers, their voices no longer tight with desperation but filled with confidence and hope.
Sito was changing.
At the center of it all walked Julius Rieapaca.
The townsfolk now called him **Lord Julius**, a title that still felt strange on his tongue when he heard it spoken aloud. He moved through the streets at an unhurried pace, hands clasped behind his back, observing everything with careful eyes. His attire reflected his new station—neat, refined, and noble in design. A deep red long-sleeved shirt hugged his frame, paired with fitted trousers and polished black shoes. Thin-framed glasses rested on his nose, catching the lantern light as he turned his head.
But despite the fine clothing, there was nothing arrogant about the way he carried himself.
Only resolve.
As he walked, memories surfaced unbidden.
Not long ago, he had been mocked openly in these same streets.
Back then, the so-called **Council of Sito**—a group of wealthy traders and opportunists—had treated him like a nuisance rather than a leader. They had whispered behind his back, laughed at his inexperience, and threatened him outright. Their power over the town's finances had emboldened them, and they had tried to force him into handing over control of Sito.
*Give us the town,* they had said.
*Or we will strangle it slowly.*
Julius clenched his jaw at the memory.
He had been young. Unproven. Still grieving his father.
But he had not yielded.
He remembered the day his father died—the weight of responsibility falling on his shoulders like a mountain. The illeaum mines had already been closed by then, overrun by monsters and deemed too dangerous. The town's primary source of income vanished overnight. Able-bodied men lost their work. Families struggled. Desperation crept in like rot.
That was when the traders moved.
They offered "help," but it was nothing more than a leash.
Julius had refused.
And for that refusal, the town had suffered.
Until *he* arrived.
The Elemental Devil.
Julius slowed his steps as he reached the town square. At its center, workers were finishing the foundation of a large stone fountain. Clear water already flowed from its spouts, catching the light and scattering it in shimmering arcs. Nearby, a new inn was nearing completion—its sign freshly painted, its doors wide open in welcome to travelers.
Children ran past him, chasing one another, their laughter ringing like bells.
"Good evening, Lord Julius," a woman said as she passed him, balancing a basket of vegetables on her hip.
He inclined his head politely. "Good evening."
A group of children spotted him and immediately stopped what they were doing. They knelt awkwardly, clearly mimicking what they had seen adults do.
"Good evening, Lord Julius!" they chorused.
Julius couldn't help but smile. "You don't need to kneel," he said gently. "Go on. Play while you still can."
The children grinned and scattered, their energy infectious.
He watched them go, his chest tightening—not with pride, but with determination.
*This is what he protected,* Julius thought.
*This is what he gave us.*
The Elemental Devil had never asked for gratitude. Never demanded recognition. He had walked into Sito wounded, fought monsters that should have wiped the town from the map, and then left as quietly as he arrived.
Yet because of him, the illeaum mine was open again.
That single fact had changed everything.
Julius turned his gaze toward the distant hills, where the mine lay hidden. When word spread that the monsters were gone—*truly gone*—men who had once worked those tunnels returned in droves. Old miners, their hands calloused and their backs bent with age, had laughed like children when they saw the crystal shards scattered freely in the cave.
There had been no need to dig.
The illeaum lay there, untouched for years, waiting.
They worked through the night. Through exhaustion. Through disbelief.
And when Julius contacted his late father's former trade partners—merchants who had once valued honesty over greed—the response had been immediate. Caravans arrived within days. Coin flowed back into the town. Supplies followed.
Sito was reborn almost overnight.
Which was why the sound of metal clanking through the streets felt so wrong.
Julius stopped.
The rhythm was unmistakable—boots in formation, armor shifting in perfect sync.
His smile faded.
From the main road, a column of knights entered the town, their armor gleaming under the lantern light. Their banners bore the crest of the capital. Conversations died instantly. Workers stopped mid-swing. Mothers pulled children closer.
The atmosphere shifted.
The knights halted in formation, splitting cleanly into two lines.
Then she stepped forward.
Princess Mira of Sundara.
Her presence alone seemed to drain warmth from the air. Her red hair cascaded down her back like fire, her crimson eyes sharp and appraising. Her armor was ornate, clearly ceremonial rather than practical—designed to command attention. Parts of her shoulders and chest were exposed, not out of necessity but vanity.
She looked around the town slowly, deliberately.
And then she smiled.
It was not a kind smile.
It was the smile of someone who had found something she intended to take.
"Who is the lord of this land?" Mira called out, her voice clear and commanding.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Julius stepped forward calmly. "That would be me."
Her eyes snapped to him, surprise flickering across her face before being replaced with amusement.
"So young," she said lightly. "Interesting."
"Lord Julius Rieapaca, at your service," he replied, bowing slightly.
Mira scoffed.
"It doesn't matter who you are," she said dismissively.
She extended her hand. A knight immediately stepped forward, placing a scroll into her grasp. She unfurled it dramatically, ensuring everyone could see the royal seal.
"By order of His Majesty, the King of Sundara," she announced loudly, "this town of Sito is hereby placed under the authority of the great Fire Hero—Conqueror of Flames—Sir Aiden!"
The knights dropped to one knee in unison.
From between their ranks emerged a tall figure clad in red armor, a crimson cape billowing behind him. His steps were slow, deliberate, heavy with arrogance. Sir Aiden removed his helmet, revealing sharp features and eyes filled with self-satisfaction.
Mira beamed at him.
Julius felt the weight of every eye turn toward him.
"Effective immediately," Mira continued, "new regulations will be enforced. Fifty silver to enter—"
"Excuse me, my lady," Julius interrupted calmly.
Gasps echoed around them.
Mira's head snapped toward him, fury blazing in her eyes. "How dare a peasant interrupt me!"
Knights shifted, hands moving toward their weapons.
Julius did not flinch.
"With respect," he said evenly, "that is not how things are done here."
Aiden chuckled, stepping forward. "You don't seem happy with the new arrangement."
Julius met his gaze, his voice steady. "This town already has a lord."
Aiden's smile widened—but it was sharp, dangerous.
"No worries," he said. "I'll take care of this."
He stepped closer, towering over Julius.