The heavy oak doors creaked open as Kai, Killian, and Francis entered the main office. The walls were lined with towering shelves of scrolls and records, yet the fourth man following them seemed more interested in the décor than its contents. His eyes flicked from tapestry to crest with an almost childlike curiosity, though he kept his hands respectfully clasped in front of him.
Kai sat behind the broad desk, the worn wood familiar under his fingers. Killian and Francis remained standing, silent pillars of attention at his sides. The man— who had introduced himself as a herald— lowered his head, bowing deeply before speaking.
"I am Teran Hale, royal herald of His Majesty King Sullivan," he began, his voice steady, but reverent. "By the decree of our sovereign, I bear tidings for Lord Arzan Kellius."
Kai blinked once, his brow barely lifting as Teran retrieved a parchment from his pouch, unrolling it with an expert flick of his wrist. The herald’s voice rang out in the chamber, clear and formal as he read the words of the decree.
"By order of King Sullivan, Lord FArzan Kellius is hereby granted dominion over the city of Veridis of Sylvan enclave and its surrounding territories for his unparalleled bravery in defending against the beast wave. Henceforth, he shall be named Count Arzan of Veralt."
Count?
Kai’s fingers tightened on the armrests of his chair, a slight twitch betraying his calm facade. He expected recognition, sure, perhaps some land. But a title— an actual countship? That was no small gift. Countships were scarce, each one a cornerstone of the kingdom’s power structure.
A new count meant the balance was shifting.
Teran continued, unaware of Kai’s quiet shock.
"In addition to the city of Verdis, His Majesty bestows upon you a blade forged from Valon steel—crafted by the finest hands in the realm—and a sum of twenty-five thousand gold crowns for your continued service."
Kai leaned back, trying to suppress the flood of thoughts. A sword made from Valon steel... and that much gold? His mind raced. He had expected a reward for the beast wave victory, but nothing this grand.
Only a dozen counts existed in the entire Lancephil kingdom. To be named one so swiftly meant this wasn’t just recognition— it was political. Was it for him to aid one of his sons? Was it something else? Maybe, it was because Kai was starting to make a case for himself as a Mage? Or the capital had already heard of his mana cannons and wanted a part in it? Possibilities were endless.
But he knew one thing— King Sullivan, whom Kai had dismissed as idle, must have been more cunning than he’d assumed.
Kai glanced at Killian and Francis, their stoic expressions beginning to shift as they processed Teran’s words. Meanwhile, the herald folded the parchment back with precision, still standing straight, awaiting acknowledgement.
A title, a city, and enough wealth to recover from the beast wave easily. But at what cost?
Kai couldn’t help but let his mind wander about what was about to come. The room felt heavier somehow, but before he could process further, Francis and Killian moved forward. They bowed low, their voices steady but touched with pride.
"Lord Arzan," Francis said with a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "We knew this day would come. Your strength has always been beyond that of others, and now your leadership will shape this territory and the others for the better."
Killian, less prone to compliments, gave a respectful nod. "Verdis will prosper under your rule just as Veralt, Count Arzan. There’s no doubt about that. As your Knight, it’s my honour to serve and protect you."
Kai nodded, muttering a quick, "Thanks." But his thoughts remained tangled in the complexity of the moment.
Verdis was his now— not just in title, but in all its weight and responsibility. He knew of the city because of its proximity to Veralt and because he had sent a letter asking for help in the beast wave. No reply had come back, so he had simply assumed the leadership there was with Lucian, but now, the city was his.
Kai’s expression softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. "Let’s ensure this marks the beginning of something new for Veralt. No missteps."
***
Princess Amara sat in front of the grand vanity, the gentle touch of her maid, Anya weaving through her hair as she gazed absentmindedly at the mirror. The glow of the setting sun bathed the room in gold, but her thoughts were elsewhere.
"Baron Arzan is becoming a count," Amara said, her voice low but steady.
Anya nodded as she combed through Amara’s dark locks. "Yes, Your Highness. That’s what everyone’s saying, though only in hushed whispers. I heard it clearly. They say he survived the beast wave and defeated them, so King Sullivan is rewarding him generously."
Amara frowned slightly, her reflection showing the ripple of concern she usually hid so well. "That will upset my mother terribly," she murmured, her fingers lightly tracing the wooden edge of the vanity. "Especially because my brother let him go and acted poorly with him."
Amara knew Anya was always careful with her words, and gave another nod, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "I’ve heard the same, Your Highness. The first prince is already trying to stay away from the palace to avoid the queen’s wrath."
"I don’t think running away will work, but I can’t blame my brother. I understand why he’s doing it." She sighed, her gaze dropping, not wanting to dwell on her mother any longer. Instead, her thoughts drifted, and she instinctively touched her chest, where the pain had once been unbearable but now, thankfully, was gone.
Her mind lingered on the man who had healed her—Arzan. A slight ache suddenly permeated her chest. He had warned her there might be more pain to endure and that this bliss was temporary. "I’ve started feeling a little discomfort in my heart again," she confessed to her maid, her voice tinged with unease. "Arzan mentioned I might need more surgery."
Anya’s hands paused briefly as she listened, then continued gently. "Do you plan to write to him again, Your Highness? Your last letter wasn’t answered."
"I should," Amara replied, her fingers tracing idle patterns on her lap. "And he was busy with the beast wave. I doubt he had time to answer back. I’ll write to him soon, perhaps even mention that I plan to visit for his count ceremony."
The maid stopped, raising her brow in surprise. "Your Highness, I doubt you’ll be able to reach Veralt in time for the ceremony."
Amara waved off the concern with a calm smile. "So be it. But I’m going to his city. Veralt. I need to get fully healed. If anyone can make it happen, it’s him."
"But what about your brother?" Anya asked cautiously. "He’ll ask about your absence."
"I don’t care," Amara said firmly. "It’s hard enough maintaining the facade of illness when I’m not even sick anymore. My brother will be occupied with my mother for a while, and that gives me enough time to slip away."
"This is my chance to see the wider world and meet this... intriguing man who saved me. I have a good feeling about it."
When Amara looked at herself in the mirror, she saw her eyes glint with a sense of determination— something that she hadn’t felt in a really long time. Though she felt a pang of pain coming from her heart, when she thought of travelling outside the castle to explore what was beyond, the pain disappeared into the air, just like that.
This was what she needed.
Anya sighed at her in the mirror and finished doing her hair.
***
A/N - A request. Those who are interested in xianxia and haven’t checked out my new book, please do so. I’m at Rising stars rank 3 right now and new readers and followers will help a lot. And please only do it if you are interested in the premise. No force!