Chapter 72: Sylvia’s Crown, Hio’s Oath

“Airlights.”

At the grating, metallic voice, Airlights turned her head.

Emerging from the swirling black mist was Atawolf, known as one of the continent’s strongest.

But his condition didn’t look good at all.

There was a huge hole right in the center of his body, filled with black mist.

“Oh dear, you’re hurt, Atawolf. How pitiful.”

The smile that accompanied her words of pity was strangely alluring.

She was the perfect embodiment of the word ‘flashy’ — Airlights.

Her true identity was the leader of a vast criminal organization spanning the west and south.

More precisely, she was the mastermind who had beguiled countless leaders of various groups into submitting beneath her.

That was how her connection with Atawolf had been forged.

Atawolf spoke to Airlights as if issuing a command.

“Summon all forces to Ba’al Forest. War is coming.”

“With that body? You think you can manage it?”

Airlights asked, pointing at the hole in his body.

But Atawolf showed no sign of hesitation.

His expression remained calm, unruffled — the composure of a true strongman.

“In my domain, no matter who or how many opponents there are, it doesn’t matter. Still don’t get it, Airlights?”

His voice was sharp, clearly testing her nerves.

Yet Airlights’ smile only deepened.

“Fine. I’ll gather them all as you wish. Honestly, I was starting to get bored of being useful. But now, you’ll have to keep your promise, Atawolf.”

“…Hand over Hio Pavlenko?”

“Yes.”

Her smile twisted even further, the corner of her eye curling into a disturbingly sharp crescent.

“I don’t care if you lose limbs. Just keep him alive and hand him over to me.”

“Understood.”

“And one more thing… for a more decisive victory.”

She took a few graceful steps closer to Atawolf, gesturing as if seducing him.

Her steps were elegant.

“Want me to tell you Hio Pavlenko’s weakness?”

The room filled with a deep scarlet aura.

***

Naturally, all remaining Academy schedules were canceled and postponed.

A memorial service was held to mourn the victims, and students and professors alike wore black.

The gentle song that used to flow, the fountain in the central plaza that once splashed, all had stopped, and a heavy air of sorrow settled across all of Imenia.

Claire was no exception.

In a black skirt and tunic, a plain jacket draped over her shoulders, her fiery red hair neatly pinned up.

“Claire.”

“Yeah… let’s go.”

Claire, Ravena, and Roland — who had joined quietly by her side — walked together.

Among the people they passed, not a single person smiled or laughed.

Until a few days ago, these were friends attending classes together, professors teaching lessons — all now lost.

Though bloodstains and gruesome corpses had been swiftly cleared, the oppressive atmosphere only grew heavier with time.

“…We believe You will wipe away all the sorrow and tears we have suffered in this land. All life is like grass…”

The priest’s prayer echoed softly.

After laying a single white flower, they looked up at the tall memorial stone.

Surrounded by countless white flowers and an equally heavy sadness.

People seek somewhere to grieve.

They want comfort alongside their sorrow.

Only then can they move forward.

Pain swallowed alone inevitably sinks, so people gather and weep.

Those tears spread, bursting forth like a wave in no time.

“Even in the dark shadow of death and despair, hold eternal hope and grant everlasting rest to the departed…”

Only when shared does grief become lighter.

They clung to each other, recalling those who were lost.

Not the pitiful figure in their final moments, but the bright, radiant smile from happier times.

Hoping that in memory, that happy image remains forever.

Maybe that’s how it is.

To cry deeply, to grieve deeply.

To miss, to resent.

And then to use that as the driving force to live again.

A driving force.

Claire shifted her gaze to the side and looked at a man.

He wore no elaborate robes or hats for once, just plain black clothes — a surprisingly unfamiliar sight.

Even after two years together, she knew more about him from recent days than the whole time before.

Hio Pavlenko.

She had guessed he was high-born, but never that he was the Guardian Knight of the Emperor.

The only person the Emperor trusted most, the one bestowed with that noble symbol of power.

That was the identity of the man who had sent her to the Academy: Hio Pavlenko.

Along with that, rumors had begun to spread within the Academy itself.

Rumors of civil war.

No one had cared much about Princess Sylvia Verden before.

Yet rumors circulated of a single mage who stood by the princess alone, convincing the Eastern Alliance and defeating the armies of the first and second princes, ending the civil war.

A mage who had forced the powerless princess to ascend above the Emperor himself.

Even without hearing the name, everyone knew who it was.

Claire gazed at Hio for a while longer before turning away.

They lived in different worlds.

While she proudly moved ahead among her peers at the Academy, look at the achievements of Hio Pavlenko.

His status and power put him in a completely different realm.

His perspective was different.

So it was natural that someone like her was too far below to even be seen.

She had to become stronger.

Just looking forward and running was not enough.

Even if she tried her hardest, she couldn’t be sure she could reach him.

Stronger than now.

Stronger, stronger, stronger, stronger, stronger, stronger, stronger, stronger.

***

The joint funeral and memorial service proceeded swiftly.

Thanks to the state’s full support.

When the news spread, the people of the Empire were outraged, and families who lost loved ones burned with anger.

They would send troops to the war against the Abyss without hesitation.

“I wanted to see your face, but it’s hard to get a good look.”

Meanwhile, Hio was preparing to leave the Academy.

“Is it puberty?”

Since it was hard to see Claire, and no one knew when they would meet again, he said that.

“You’re long past puberty. You tend to see Claire as too young.”

Sirbert replied.

“Is that so?”

“Anyway, I’m done with the palace. Handle things as you see fit.”

Sirbert’s original plan was to make the princess the Emperor and seize real power for himself.

But the variable was Sylvia’s abilities.

Though he didn’t know the details, all the nobles in the city had fully sided with her.

The attitude of every noble who had been in contact with him gradually changed.

Perhaps they had even leaked all conversations and plans…

“You destroyed all means of communication?”

“Yes, as soon as Airlights’ betrayal was discovered.”

“Then I’ll need to find another way to contact you.”

“There’s the Point Shop, but the price for no distance or time limits is steep. Could you buy it for me?”

“I have no Points either.”

“…That’s really a careless lie. Anyway, come back once your business is done. If the Abyss raid moves past the early stages, we’ll need to start preparing.”

“Got it. You prepare well, and take good care of Claire too.”

With that, their conversations ended, and the Academy schedule wrapped up.

He met with Sirbert as planned and shared many discussions.

He advanced to the 3rd Circle as planned.

Then met Atawolf unexpectedly.

And the unexpected tragedy happened.

But in that, he confirmed the power of a true strongman.

He glimpsed the path forward.

So now, all that remained was to move forward again.

***

The undisputed victor of the continent: the coronation of the Verden Empire’s Emperor.

The grand scale was beyond words, and the capital bustled with visitors from various countries and crowds eager to witness the event.

Not just the capital.

The Imperial Palace itself was chaotic with guests from every visiting nation.

The most notable were the commerce-driven Akaia Kingdom, the sacred Holy Kingdom of Hibernia of the Liphyue Order, and several smaller kingdoms bordering the Empire, all flocking to the capital.

For them, who became the Emperor and what kind of temperament he had mattered immensely.

In a game where the first prince ascended to the throne, many smaller nations were completely devastated right after the coronation.

“Interesting costumes.”

It was coronation day, and with envoys from many nations, just walking through the palace provided plenty to see.

The world of Ventair Online was Empire-centric.

The Akaia Kingdom and Holy Kingdom of Hibernia were familiar to Hio, but the continent was vast, and the game hadn’t rendered all of it.

Many countries were known only by name and never seen firsthand.

For example, the desert kingdom of Sir.

“Those must be the envoys from Sir Kingdom.”

Though never seen in the game, their features were distinct and memorable.

Tanned skin, cool clothing, thick eyebrows, and lavish jewelry.

They looked fiery — someone fun to get to know.

“…Then over there is Fioria.”

The kingdom of Fioria, covered in ice and snow.

Often described as beautiful, Claire had been curious, but it never appeared in the game.

Costumes were the only way to identify them for now; the rest would require conversation.

“Stop mumbling so much. Have you forgotten your dignity as the Empire’s Guardian Knight?”

Vitalianus quietly scolded Hio, who was distractedly looking around.

More and more people were now glancing at Hio.

They wondered, ‘Who is that guy in the weird hat and with a staff standing beside the Sword Saint?’

In the end, Hio wore his hat and carried his staff even at the coronation.

Though he reluctantly donned the uniform because of a weeping attendant, he still wore his robe on top, making the uniform useless.

Rumors quietly spread that the attendant had burst into tears and fled.

Hio didn’t care.

It probably looked ridiculous now, unfamiliar as it was.

If so, he would just make it familiar.

He had promised his first master.

He had vowed at that grave.

To complete the ultimate magic.

To change how magic was perceived, so no one would ever mock it again.

Now, everyone would know.

That mages were not foolish beings.

Not empty or delusional.

Even if he were the last mage, it was a heavy responsibility that came with being the last.

Everything.

“It’s starting. Get ready, mage.”

With the Sword Saint’s words, the orchestra began to play.

Majestic music echoed throughout the hall.

The dignitaries from all nations fell silent, focusing their attention.

The heavy doors slowly opened, and a commanding voice announced the Emperor’s entrance.

In stepped Sylvia Verden, adorned in dazzling, majestic attire.

Her beautiful silver hair framed by a matching cloak.

Behind her, Teordo appeared.

Though clad in full armor from head to toe, he stood proudly beside Sylvia without fear.

The Emperor of the Empire and her Guardian Knight were no longer in a position to worry about others’ scrutiny.

“Go.”

***

As Sylvia entered, Hio and Vitalianus followed closely behind.

The Guardian Knight and Sword Saint flanked the new Emperor, projecting authority.

Ten Royal Knights raised their swords, forming a path.

At the end stood an elderly priest dressed all in white — the Pope himself.

The Pope of the Liphyue Order had come all the way for this coronation.

Sylvia and the Pope faced each other for a brief oath.

Then the Pope’s blessing followed.

A rare sight, filled with divine power, left the crowd mesmerized by the sacred moment.

After the short blessing, the coronation proceeded — the placing of the crown symbolizing the Emperor’s authority.

As the Pope placed the crown on Sylvia’s head,

Hio’s staff moved lightly.

「Skill – ‘Shield’ activated」

A golden miracle poured from the sky.

As if to prove it, the form of a goddess appeared in the heavens.

Her divine hand embraced the newly crowned Emperor.

“Ahhh…”

The devout kneeled in awe.

Both inside the hall and outside where crowds had gathered to see the Emperor, the miraculous scene was witnessed.

They marveled and cheered.

The goddess herself blessed the new Emperor, bringing tears of joy.

Sylvia, crowned, turned toward the outside.

On the terrace, as she raised her hand high, the assembled palace knights drew their swords in unison, pledging loyalty.

The sharp sound cut through the crowd’s cheers.

Hundreds of blades gleamed in the sunlight.

There stood the new Emperor, Sylvia Verden, in all her glory.

The thunderous cheers of the Empire’s citizens.

At that moment, Hio’s staff moved once more.

He cast a shout spell directly on Sylvia.

Knowing this, Sylvia opened her mouth.

The Emperor’s voice echoed throughout the vast space.

Her vow at the moment of ascension was clear:

Declaration of war against the Abyss.

The complete annihilation of the evil cult eating away at the Empire and the continent.

Every word resonated with souls.

The crowd, moved by the strength in her voice, wept and cheered wildly.

This was the power of Sylvia Verden.

A voice that stirred the soul directly.

Blessed by the goddess herself, her speech would be recorded as the most perfect coronation in history.

One never seen before, nor to be seen again.

And amid all the commotion,

“…Do you feel it?”

Hio’s gaze wasn’t on Sylvia, but fixed intently on a corner of the grand hall.

“Yes…”

Because he had spotted someone in the vast crowd.

“That is…”

A strange, unfamiliar face.

But the feeling it gave was unmistakable.

“…A Circle.”

A magical Circle.

The symbol of a mage.