CHAPTER 277: A MOMENT OF REVERENCE

The sun’s last golden rays stretched across the kingdom, gradually blending with the soft, monochrome twilight that began to seep into the sky, painting the streets and buildings below in a surreal mix of light and shadow. Adyr hovered silently above, wings outstretched, his gaze sweeping across the scene.

Below him, a vast square lay open at the kingdom’s heart. Countless Velari had gathered, civilians mingling with knights clad in gleaming armor and polished helmets. The air vibrated with energy and relief, a quiet celebration replacing the tension that had gripped the city just moments ago.

"They look fine," Adyr murmured to himself. Word of Collossith’s defeat had clearly spread; the chaos had subsided, giving way to cautious jubilation.

As his eyes searched the crowd for the King, a familiar voice called out.

"Brother."

Malrik approached on his massive Frost Wyvern, gliding effortlessly, a warm smile brightening his face.

"Brother," Adyr replied, returning the smile. "Everything seems fine here."

Malrik’s grin deepened, his voice softening as he spoke. "Yes, I already informed them of the news. They’ve begun celebrating." He drew closer, laughter rolling from him like a comforting wave. "You are the reason for this celebration. Lady Liora defeated the Spark thanks to you, and no one in the kingdom was harmed because of your ability."

It was evident Malrik had relayed the full story to the citizens, ensuring Adyr’s contribution was recognized. Even Malrik himself felt the impact of Adyr’s intervention, the divine healing light at the critical moment, preserving everyone and leaving a lasting impression on him.

From this moment on, Adyr would not be remembered as just another Practitioner. Among the people, he would stand alongside Liora Virel, recognized as a true Protector.

"I see," Adyr said, exhaling with quiet satisfaction. "I’m glad no civilians were hurt."

Malrik regarded him for a moment, eyes soft yet calculating, before a flicker of curiosity surfaced. "I saw Collossith moving earlier. Lady Liora and the others—did they head to the marketplace?"

"Yes, they’ve already departed. Lady Liora wanted to make a grand entrance with her new Spark," Adyr said with a hint of amusement.

"I see." Malrik laughed, the sound light and approving, just as he would have expected from Liora. "Then we should join them as well."

Adyr inclined his head. "Go ahead. I have a matter to discuss with the King. I’ll catch up with you later."

"Understood, brother. Don’t linger too long; you know something far greater still awaits us," Malrik said, a subtle reference to the Legacy Domain, before steering his Frost Wyvern into the darkening sky, following the path Collossith had taken.

After watching Malrik disappear into the distance, Adyr refocused his gaze on the center of the crowd, spotting the King’s silhouette among the civilians.

He didn’t descend directly. Instead, he spread his arms wide, and his transparent energy slowly extended along his limbs until two distinct figures emerged.

"Whoa..." Isolde and Veyla screamed instinctively, feeling as if they were falling through the sky. Relief washed over them the moment they realized strong hands had gripped them firmly at the waist.

"Sorry for this," Adyr said, laughing apologetically.

Since he was about to meet the King, he did not want to summon the two women from his Sanctuary in front of him. Doing so would have created an awkward and difficult-to-explain scenario.

The image of a Practitioner carrying his friends as if in his pocket would not have been appropriate. It was far more natural to say that he had found them along a path near the kingdom and brought them with him. No one would question it, and if rumors circulated among the public, this explanation would make them far more acceptable.

"Are those people Velari?" Veyla asked, suppressing the panic that came from their height and peering down. Despite the altitude, her second-generation mutant eyes allowed her to see far better than a normal human. Her glasses were also not for vision correction but for enhanced optical technology.

"They look like they’re celebrating something," Isolde murmured, noting the unusual scene below.

They had expected to find themselves inside a palace, anticipating a private audience with the King. Seeing a bustling city square filled with cheering citizens left them momentarily confused.

"The kingdom faced a threat for a while, which has only just been resolved. That’s why they’re celebrating. And the mine I mentioned before is connected to this," Adyr explained briefly, giving them only the details they needed while leaving other details for them to discover in time.

"Okay, we’re descending now. I don’t have much time. I’ll introduce you to the King, and I will leave immediately afterward. Keep that in mind." Adyr flapped his wings slowly, guiding the two women gently down toward the city square.

Isolde and Veyla swallowed nervously as they approached the crowd. Tension tightened their chests, yet neither could find a word to object. The situation was far beyond anything they had imagined, but their only choice was to follow instructions and trust that everything would unfold as intended.

As they descended, becoming visible to the crowd below, a palpable shift rippled through the plaza.

"What are they doing?" Isolde murmured, her voice tinged with bewilderment and curiosity.

At first, the citizens pointed skyward, eyes following them with awe, fingers tracing their flight through the air. Voices rose, a sudden swell of murmurs and exclamations echoing across the square.

Then, almost instinctively, the crowd began to part, flowing aside as if moved by an invisible hand, creating a wide corridor that led toward the center of the plaza.

Heavy, deliberate footsteps soon followed. Knights in polished armor, helmets gleaming in the last rays of sunlight, advanced through the divided crowd. Each step struck with disciplined precision, forming imposing ranks along the plaza’s edges. The glint of steel caught the fading light, casting reflections like vigilant sentinels frozen in ceremonial motion.

As Adyr descended further, the ambient sounds—the murmur of voices, the shuffle of feet, even the whisper of the wind—dropped into sudden silence.

The kingdom seemed to hold its breath. The air itself grew thick with anticipation, every gaze fixed, every heartbeat measured against the weight of expectation.

Isolde and Veyla froze, momentarily overwhelmed. The sheer number of Velari staring upward, awaiting the moment when Adyr would touch the ground, pressed upon them like gravity.

Then, with the authority of practiced control, Adyr’s massive wings beat once, stirring the air in a resonant sweep. His feet met the cobblestones with deliberate force, a muted impact that seemed to command the plaza itself to respect his arrival.

He released the two women from his arms, steadying them gently as they regained their balance.

In that uncanny hush, a voice cut through—sharp, commanding, and perfectly synchronized, as all captains of the knight squads shouted in unison:

"Attention!"

Immediately, the response of the full knightly formation followed—a thunderous chorus of disciplined power, a roar that rattled stones and resonated across the kingdom.

"Halt and heed! Lord Adyr arrives!"

The combined voice surged through the plaza, each word imbued with authority, respect, and the unmistakable weight of someone whose presence equaled the highest echelons of power.

Veyla and Isolde stared in stunned silence, their gazes turned to Adyr.

He stood tall, composed, as if the grand reception around him neither surprised nor impressed him. His wings, now folded neatly behind his back, gave him an aura of controlled power. The very air seemed to pulse with recognition, declaring unmistakably that the figure beside them was no ordinary visitor.

What does this all mean? Veyla wondered silently, her eyes sweeping over the crowd.

Rows of knights fell into a rigid silence, their heads held high, one fist pressed to their chests in a gesture that combined pride with reverence.

Citizens lowered their heads almost instinctively, a clear display of unspoken respect. Not a single brow twitched; every person present seemed bound to the moment, suspended in disciplined anticipation.

She knew from the reports that Practitioners were regarded as beings of immense stature in this world, their presence considered equal to or even higher than that of kings and rulers. Yet what she was witnessing now went far beyond a mere formal greeting.

As she scanned the faces surrounding them, she realized that each gaze held something deeper. They looked at him as though he were their son, their father, their lover, or their kin. But one emotion shone through most clearly on every face: absolute, unreserved reverence. No expectation, no hesitation—only recognition of greatness.

Her contemplation was interrupted by hurried footsteps breaking the silence. From the center of the knight formation, a small group approached with deliberate haste.

A dozen men and women emerged, their posture and attire marking them unmistakably as individuals of high status—lords and ladies moving with authority and purpose.

A single figure drew every eye at the forefront of the group: a short, white-haired man in ceremonial gold armor, his crimson half-cape trailing behind him as he advanced swiftly, each step purposeful and urgent, commanding immediate attention across the open space.

"Is he the King?" Veyla whispered, her voice caught between awe and disbelief, as recognition finally settled in.