**October 1st**
A mysterious figure draped in a pitch-black cloak stood in the pre-dawn shadows. Before the sun could crest the horizon, he placed a small black box near the grand fountain, tucked away in a corner where most would overlook it.
He glanced left and right, ensuring the lingering night still shielded his movements. With a silent stride, the figure vanished, leaving the enigmatic object behind.
As the morning of the Festival arrived, the city was awakened by the thunderous peal of bells. This was no ordinary day; it was the Kingdom's most sacred celebration.
The Capital was at its peak of splendor. Streets were adorned with vibrant lanterns and strings of lights stretching between buildings. Small banners and flags—the emblems of the Union of Nations Church—fluttered along every road. Decorative arches framed the Great Gate, and colorful balloons drifted lazily into the sky.
At the highest point in the city stood the Great Tower, the tallest structure in the Kingdom, housing a massive clock and a heavy bell. Atop its spire, the banner of the Union of Nations Church flew high above everything else.
The bell tolled with power, punctuated by the booming roar of fireworks. It was a spectacle of extraordinary proportions.
At the Great Gate, those who hadn't arrived days prior were now disembarking from the "World Train"—the massive black locomotive that had returned to Randor's gates after its seven-day journey across the continent.
Waiting for the distinguished guests was Felix, looking sharp in his black suit despite days without rest. Beside him stood a phalanx of soldiers, their armor gleaming in the morning sun.
Among the prominent arrivals was the representative of a neighboring kingdom, a man named Lebran. He had fierce features, brown hair, and wore a grey suit with square-framed glasses.
Felix opened his arms in welcome. "Mr. Lebran, you look exceptionally elegant today."
Lebran replied with a bright smile, "What a compliment, Mr. Felix! You look far more dashing than I do."
The two moved off, exchanging pleasantries and jests as they headed toward the heart of the festivities.
***
Near the Palace, in a luxurious two-story villa, the blonde-haired Daurana emerged with her retinue following close behind.
"I still don't understand," one of her followers muttered. "Why did we come to this lowly place? There's nothing of interest here. I know a festival like this wouldn't normally tempt you, so why are we here?"
Daurana tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, a faint, cryptic smile on her lips. "I came here to find a member of my family."
Her followers were stunned. Only one man among them watched her with sudden intensity, though his expression remained a mask of stone.
"Which family member are you talking about, Daurana?" one of the girls asked.
"I thought all your relatives were on a different continent," another added. "Who do you mean?"
"I don't know if he is even here," Daurana replied quietly. "But this festival happens every year and draws people from every corner of the realm. There is a sliver of hope that he might be among them."
"But which relative, Daurana? We know them all," a man asked, confused.
Daurana looked up at the fireworks bursting in the distance. "I have never met him... but in the future, he will be a member of my family."
The followers were left in stunned silence, unable to grasp her words.
"Could you clarify that? We don't understand," the girl pressed.
Daurana didn't answer. Instead, she turned to them and asked, "Where is the headquarters of the Royal Knights? I want to confirm something before we head to the Arena."
"My Lady—" a man started, but caught himself. "The headquarters will be empty right now. All the Knights are at the Arena, awaiting the King and Queen."
Daurana's brow arched in irritation. "Didn't I tell you to strike the word 'My Lady' from your vocabulary?"
The man chuckled nervously. "My apologies, Daurana."
She seemed lost in thought for a moment until a particularly loud explosion in the sky snapped her back. "Let's go take a look at them before the festival begins."
***
In the vast Plaza by the Great Fountain, the Royal Knights had assembled in seven ranks, each containing ten men.
Standing before the ranks were seven individuals in pale yellow uniforms, distinct from the dark blue of the standard Knights. These were the Ranks' Captains. At the very front stood Felix, surveying the assembly.
Huge crowds had gathered around the perimeter, watching the display of military might from a respectful distance. From within the crowd, Daurana and her followers emerged.
Felix noticed her, took off his glasses, and barked, "Knights!"
"HAH!" the ranks roared in unison.
"Salute!" Felix commanded.
Every Knight dropped to one knee, hand over heart—except for one. A single figure remained standing at the very back of one of the ranks.
Felix didn't notice him at first, his eyes fixed on Daurana. The crowd gasped at the girl's beauty; even the local women felt their breath hitch at her crystalline elegance.
"She's breathtaking!" voices whispered from the crowd.
"She must be from another kingdom; beauty like that isn't found in these parts."
One man's comment was cut short as a shoe slammed into the back of his head. He turned to find a furious woman thrusting a crying infant into his arms. "Hold your child, you bastard!" she hissed, dragging him away by the ear.
Even the Knights were captivated. "She must be someone of immense importance to have us all kneel."
"But look... one of them isn't kneeling."
"Who is that?"
"It's Maimun... the Soul Reaper. Why is he still standing?"
Maimun stood rigid at the back of the formation, drawing stares from everyone. Daurana's followers noticed him immediately.
"Mr. Felix," one of them remarked snidely, "it seems you haven't trained your subordinates well. Someone appears to be defying your orders."
Felix spun around, his eyes landing on the youth with black hair and cold blue eyes. He grit his teeth. *You bastard... why aren't you saluting?*
Maimun's Captain noticed the tension and looked back, nearly jumping out of his skin when he saw Maimun standing. "You troublemaker!" he hissed.
"Maimun!" Felix shouted. "Why didn't you salute?"
Maimun looked at Felix with an expression void of emotion. "I do not salute the King himself. Why would I salute this girl?"
Daurana clasped her hands together. "Mr. Felix, do not trouble yourself over such things. I only came to ask about someone."
Given Maimun's significant contributions to the Kingdom, Felix decided not to push the matter further in public. "We will speak after the festival," he muttered, before turning back to Daurana. "Who are you looking for?"
"A man called the 'Soul Reaper,'" Daurana said. "I heard he was among the Knights. Is he here?"
Felix blinked in shock, then glanced back at Maimun. "Do you mean that rebellious bastard back there?"
It was Daurana's turn to be surprised. Without a word, she began to walk slowly toward Maimun.
Felix watched her back, wondering, *Did that brat do something to her? If he did, he's as good as dead.*
Chrismore moved to follow her, his face a mask of cold intent, but Daurana raised a hand, and he stopped instantly.
Maimun watched her approach, her eyes searching his face. *What is this girl doing? Does she want something from me?*
Daurana stopped directly in front of him. She didn't speak at first, merely studying his features in silence.
"What is your name?" she finally asked.
"Maimun," he replied flatly.
"Is Maimun your real name?"
After a brief pause, he answered, "Yes. Why?"
Daurana sighed, whispering to herself, "It isn't him. It seems this trip was in vain... but no matter."
She looked up at him. "Never mind. Forget I asked."
She turned and walked back to Felix. "It was a misunderstanding. We shall meet at the Arena."
She departed toward the massive Arena situated next to the Great Tower. At the same time, crowds were pouring into the stadium through its many gates. Despite the thousands already inside, the city streets remained packed to the brim.
***
**The Royal Palace**
Inside the palace, two figures were deep in a whispered, treacherous conversation.
"Is everything ready?" one asked in a commanding tone.
"Yes, sire," the other replied, kneeling. "Our men are blended into the crowd. We are only waiting for your signal."
"Good," the first man said. "But remember: any mistake will cost you your life."
The kneeling man swallowed hard. "Do not worry, Your Highness."
He bowed deeply and hurried out of the room. Something was simmering beneath the surface of the festivities... a storm was about to break.
**End of Chapter**