Read Novel Full Chapter 491: Miracle
Chapter 491: Miracle
It took barely ten minutes before the entire main road stretching through Silver City had been completely cleared. The efficiency of the B-4 Units was almost frightening to witness. Hundreds of B-4 soldiers moved with perfect coordination, not wasting a single movement. Fallen stone, shattered wood, broken wagons, scattered weapons, and every piece of rubble that blocked the road disappeared one after another as if the destruction itself was being erased. Some worked separately without ever getting in each other’s way. Some cleared debris, some secured buildings that looked ready to collapse, while others carefully carried bodies from every street, alley, rooftop, and ruined home they could reach. There were no shouted orders, no confusion, no panic. Everything happened in complete discipline, as though every soldier already knew exactly what every other soldier was doing. In manners as if they were absolute professionals at doing everything.
The civilians were quietly instructed to stand along both sides of the road. Nobody was pushed roughly or threatened unnecessarily. The soldiers simply pointed where they were to stand, and somehow almost everyone obeyed. The calmness of the soldiers itself forced obedience. Their expressions never changed. Their eyes remained cold and focused, constantly scanning their surroundings.
They neither comforted nor argued with anyone. They simply performed their duty. Slowly, one after another, the bodies of the dead were brought forward and laid carefully upon the cleared road. Every corpse was placed respectfully in long, perfectly straight rows. No body was thrown aside carelessly. Every movement was efficient yet strangely dignified, as though even death deserved order.
The civilians watched everything unfold in complete confusion. At first, many couldn’t understand why every dead body in the city was being gathered into one place. Curious whispers spread through the crowd as people stretched their necks to look farther ahead. Then curiosity slowly turned into something much heavier.
Some recognized familiar faces among the growing rows of corpses. An old woman suddenly covered her mouth before breaking into tears after spotting her grandson lying motionless beneath a torn blanket. A little boy screamed and tried running toward the body of his father before two soldiers calmly stepped into his path, gently stopping him without saying a single unnecessary word. A young wife collapsed onto her knees the moment she recognized her husband, crying so hard that even those around her lowered their heads. Others simply stood frozen, unable to believe what they were seeing. Some silently whispered prayers. Some closed their eyes. Others stared without blinking, refusing to accept the truth before them. The air grew heavier with every passing minute.
A few desperate family members tried pushing through the lines, wanting only one last look at those they had lost. Some wanted to hold a hand one final time. Others wanted to see whether their loved ones were truly gone. Yet every attempt was calmly stopped by the soldiers maintaining the perimeter. They never raised their voices.
They never struck anyone. A simple raised hand, a firm gesture, or one emotionless look from beneath their helmets was enough. There was something unsettling about them. They carried themselves with such absolute discipline that even the most grief-stricken civilians instinctively stepped back. It wasn’t fear born from cruelty. It was the feeling that these soldiers simply could not be moved by emotion while carrying out their orders. Their eyes were empty of hesitation, filled only with duty of command.
The presence of the kingdom’s highest nobles helped maintain what little order remained. Lord Draven stood silently with his hands behind his back, his weathered face darker than usual. Lord Kharvek remained beside him, jaw tightly clenched as his eyes swept across the endless rows of the dead. Lady Veyra stood with folded arms, unusually quiet, her earlier confidence completely absent. Beside them stood Queen Grace herself.
Every civilian noticed them. Even in grief, commoners understood the difference between themselves and the nobility. They lowered their voices. Those who had nearly lost control gradually composed themselves. No matter how desperate the situation became, generations of habit taught them not to create chaos before the rulers of the kingdom.
Several more minutes passed before the last body was finally brought forward. The soldiers stepped back in perfect formation, leaving behind a sight so horrifying that silence itself seemed to descend over the city. Long rows of corpses stretched as far as the eye could see. Some bodies were almost peaceful, as though asleep. Others had been crushed beneath collapsing buildings. Some were missing limbs. Some had deep wounds carved across their chests. Others were barely recognizable beneath dried blood, ash, and dust. Torn clothing fluttered gently in the wind. The smell of blood mixed with smoke hung heavily over the road.
A few civilians could no longer bear the sight and turned away, covering their mouths. Others buried their faces into the shoulders of family members. Many openly wept. The entire city felt as though it had forgotten how to breathe.
Queen Grace slowly lowered her eyes. Her lips pressed together so tightly they almost turned white. The sorrow on her face was impossible to hide. These weren’t merely citizens to her. They were her people. Every corpse lying before her felt like a failure she could never erase.
As Queen, she had sworn to protect this kingdom, yet today thousands lay dead beneath the open sky. A painful thought quietly settled inside her heart. If only... if only she had been stronger. If only she had possessed even a fraction of the strength her father once held. Perhaps so many innocent lives would still be alive today. The weight of that thought settled upon her shoulders like iron.
The three Lords lowered their heads slightly. Even the soldiers of Denver Kingdom standing nearby could no longer maintain their little relieved expressions on war being over. Shame mixed with grief filled every face now. No victory could erase what had been lost today. The war had ended, but the price of that war stull lay before them in silence. The entire atmosphere became unbearably heavy. It wasn’t simply sadness anymore. It was mourning shared by an entire kingdom.
Then suddenly Razeal stepped forward.
His footsteps were calm, yet somehow every eye naturally turned toward him. He stopped before the countless rows of the dead and quietly looked over them for several long seconds. His crimson eyes reflected nothing that anyone could understand. When he finally spoke, his voice carried clearly across the silent road.
"This..." he said calmly, "...will be the first greeting from your new King." Confusion immediately spread through the crowd. Nobody understood what he meant.
Before anyone could ask, Razeal calmly raised his right hand toward his mouth. Without hesitation.. He bit deeply into his own palm.
Dark crimson blood immediately flowed from the wound, dripping between his fingers before running down his wrist. He didn’t even flinch. His expression never changed.
Then, with one smooth motion, he swung his bleeding hand through the air.
The blood scattered outward.
Hundreds...
No... Thousands of tiny crimson droplets spread across the sky like countless shining rubies caught beneath the afternoon sunlight. Instead of falling to the ground, every single drop suddenly stopped in midair.
The entire road fell into absolute silence.
The floating droplets glimmered quietly above the corpses. Nobody understood what they were witnessing.
Everyone standing behind him frowned deeply in confusion?
The civilians watched with confusion aswell.
Then... suddenly at razeal control.. Every single droplet moved. Without warning, the floating blood shot forward in thousands of different directions.
The crimson streaks crossed through the air like countless tiny comets.
Each drop found a body.
Some struck gently against the forehead of the dead. Others entered through broken skulls where no forehead remained.
Some disappeared into shattered chests.
Others entered bodies so mangled they were barely human anymore. The dark crimson blood sank quietly into every corpse.
Then... It vanished. As though the bodies themselves had absorbed it.
The moment that happened, he activated the true ability that had gained after his Killing Dao reached S Rank.
True Killing Revival. A terrifying ability that granted him the power to return to life anyone who had died within the last twenty-four hours.
[-1 Killing Point]
[-1 Killing Point]
[-1 Killing Point]
The familiar notifications immediately began echoing inside his mind one after another.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
They continued without pause as thousands of lives were selected by the skill. With every notification, another Killing Point disappeared. Razeal quietly felt the power inside his Killing Dao being consumed bit by bit. It wasn’t a painful feeling. It simply felt as though a tiny portion of the endless killing intent he carried was being drawn away to fuel the skill. Under normal circumstances, such consumption might have been noticeable, but compared to the unimaginable amount of Killing Points he possessed after everything he had experienced, the decrease was almost meaningless. If he hadn’t been paying attention to the process itself, he probably wouldn’t have even realized the points were disappearing. Even so, he calmly continued the activation without the slightest hesitation.
Then... The skill finally began taking effect.
The change was so sudden that every person watching unconsciously stopped breathing.
The countless corpses lying silently across the road suddenly trembled.
At first it was only a faint movement. A finger twitched. A shoulder jerked slightly. A foot shifted almost invisibly.
Then every body that had absorbed Razeal’s blood began radiating an extremely faint glow.
It wasn’t bright.
It wasn’t holy.
It wasn’t dark either.
It was simply... life.
A thin, strange vitality slowly spread through every corpse like water flowing through dry earth. The lifeless bodies that had only moments ago been cold and empty suddenly began recovering right before everyone’s eyes.
Broken bones slowly moved back into place.
Deep cuts started closing.
Blood stopped flowing.
Torn flesh began reconnecting itself.
Crushed muscles slowly rebuilt themselves.
Where arms had been torn away... New flesh slowly began growing. Where legs had been lost... Bone stretched outward before muscles, veins, and skin rapidly formed around it.
Even shattered faces slowly reconstructed themselves piece by piece until they returned to their original appearance.
The process wasn’t instant. But It was happening.. That too right before everyone’s eyes.
Slow enough for every single person present to witness death itself being undone.
A heavy silence swept across the road.
Then fear followed.
The civilians instinctively took several steps backward. Many covered their mouths.
Some grabbed their children tightly. Others stared with faces completely drained of color.
Nobody understood what they were witnessing.
Even Maria and Sofia unconsciously took two quick steps forward instead of backward. Unlike the others, both of them had already guessed what Razeal intended to do when he ordered every corpse to be gathered together. But guessing and actually witnessing it were two completely different things.
Their beautiful eyes widened to their limits. Both slowly turned toward Razeal.
Neither of them spoke.
Neither of them could.
Shock completely filled their faces.
Even after everything they had already witnessed him accomplish today...
This... This still shattered every expectation they had.
Behind them, Lord Draven slowly clenched his fists.
Lord Kharvek completely forgot to breathe.
Queen Grace stared ahead without blinking.
Lady Veyra looked as though the world itself had stopped making sense.
Nancy silently covered her lips.
The soldiers of Denver Kingdom looked between the corpses and Razeal again and again, completely unable to process what they were seeing.
Some people initially thought he was performing some dark ritual upon the dead.
Some even believed he was violating the bodies for some unknown experiment.
But before those thoughts could fully settle...The impossible happened.
One corpse... Opened its eyes.
Then another.
Then another.
Then dozens.
Then hundreds.
Then thousands until all..
One after another, the dead slowly inhaled their first breath.
Some suddenly sat upright in confusion.
Others pushed themselves onto trembling arms before looking around blankly.
Many stared at their own hands. Some instinctively touched their chests where fatal wounds had existed only moments earlier.
Others looked down at missing limbs that had somehow returned. Every single revived person wore the same confused expression.
The last thing they remembered... Was dying.
The scene became even more terrifying than before. Thousands of people were literally rising from death together.
The entire road suddenly erupted into complete chaos.
"W-What...?"
"W-What is happening?!"
"T-They’re moving!"
"The dead...!"
"The dead are alive!"
"They... they came back!"
Cries of disbelief spread everywhere. Some civilians screamed and stumbled backward in fear.
Others fell onto the ground.
A few started crying even harder than before.
Some people dropped to their knees, believing they were witnessing some miracle sent by the gods or something.
Others genuinely thought ghosts had returned to haunt the city.
Parents tightly hugged their children.
Children buried their faces into their mothers’ clothes.
Several old men began praying with trembling voices.
The soldiers maintaining order remained at their positions, though even a few of them couldn’t completely hide the astonishment in their eyes.
The revived people themselves were no less frightened.
One middle-aged man slowly looked down at his own hands.
His fingers trembled.
He remembered...
He clearly remembered a massive stone crushing his body. He remembered the unbearable pain. He remembered darkness swallowing everything.
Yet now...
He felt no pain? Slowly, he touched his own chest.
No wound. He looked at his blood-soaked clothes.
The dried blood was still there. The torn fabric remained.
Everything proved he had died.
"W-Wasn’t..." His voice shook.
"...Wasn’t I dead?"
Not far away, a young woman frantically touched her own face before grabbing her legs.
She remembered both of them being crushed beneath debris.
Yet now they moved perfectly. She suddenly burst into tears.
Nearby, a little girl who had died beside her mother slowly opened her eyes before seeing the same mother crying while hugging her tightly.
The woman’s scream echoed throughout the entire road as she embraced her daughter with both arms, refusing to let go again.
Scenes like that began appearing everywhere.
Families reunited.
Children cried.
Parents laughed and sobbed together.
Brothers embraced brothers.
Husbands held wives they had believed lost forever.
The entire city became filled with crying, laughter, disbelief, confusion, prayers, screams, and countless emotions all blending together into one overwhelming sound.
Nobody knew whether they should celebrate...
Or fear the person who had made such a thing possible.
Lady Veyra finally snapped out of her shock.
Her breathing had become uneven.
Her heartbeat pounded loudly inside her ears. She slowly turned toward Razeal. Her eyes remained impossibly wide.
Her lips trembled. For several seconds, no words came out.
Finally...
"You..." Her voice almost broke.
"...You..." She swallowed hard, still unable to believe what stood before her.
"What..."
"What did you do...?"
Razeal though completely ignored Lady Veyra’s question. It was as though he hadn’t even heard her. His crimson eyes remained fixed ahead as he slowly rose into the air, ascending higher and higher until he floated above the ruined streets of Silver City. There was no burst of mana or dramatic display of power. He simply lifted himself into the sky with effortless calm. It was enough. Every pair of eyes in the city getting naturally drawn toward him.
The countless civilians, soldiers, nobles, and even the thousands who had only moments ago returned from death slowly looked up at the young man standing alone against the gray sky. At that moment, he was impossible to ignore. He had become the center of every gaze in that crowd right now.
Below him, Silver City was still drowning in chaos. The streets echoed with cries of relief and disbelief. Some people laughed while tears streamed down their faces. Others held their loved ones so tightly it seemed they were afraid they would disappear again. Many of those who had just been revived simply stood where they were, repeatedly touching their faces, arms, and chests before staring down at their blood-soaked clothes with empty expressions. They remembered dying.
They remembered the pain. Yet now they were alive. Their minds simply couldn’t understand it. Parents kept checking whether their children were truly breathing. Husbands held wives. Brothers embraced sisters. The entire city was overwhelmed by emotions that words could hardly describe.
Razeal quietly looked over the broken capital. His crimson eyes slowly swept across the countless faces staring back at him. He waited just long enough for more people to notice him before finally opening his mouth.
"Calm yourselves." His voice wasn’t loud, yet the moment he spoke it spread throughout the entire city as though carried by the wind itself. Every street, every rooftop, every ruined building echoed with his words in perfect clarity. It reached even those standing far away who couldn’t see him clearly. One by one, conversations stopped. The crying slowly quieted. The shouting gradually faded. Thousands of heads turned toward the sky until almost the entire city was looking only at him.
"This..." he said calmly, "...is my first gift to this kingdom."
No one interrupted.
"I have returned to life every person who died during this unnecessary war."
The silence immediately shattered into countless whispers. People instinctively looked toward the loved ones standing beside them.
Some covered their mouths.
Others lowered themselves onto their knees.
Many who had already guessed the truth still couldn’t believe it after hearing the words spoken aloud.
Razeal simply waited until the whispers settled again before continuing.
"As for why..."
"There is no special reason."
"It was simply something that I was able to give."
He paused only briefly before continuing.
"My name... is Razeal Vilious." His voice remained calm.
"I am your new King."
"I protected this kingdom."
"I destroyed your enemy."
"And I safeguarded every life that I could."
He spoke without pride. Without arrogance. Without trying to impress anyone.
His expression remained completely indifferent, as though he were simply stating ordinary facts that required no explanation. Yet somehow, that calmness carried even greater weight than any proud declaration could have.
Far below, Maria quietly stared upward, unable to hide the admiration in her eyes. Sofia stood beside her with a small smile, her ocean-blue eyes never leaving him for even a second. Nancy folded her arms silently while watching him with an expression that had become impossible to read. Queen Grace, Lord Draven, Lord Kharvek, Lady Veyra, and every noble present simply looked up in silence. None of them felt the need to interrupt. At this moment, the entire city belonged to his voice alone.
Razeal slowly looked across the broken streets once more.
"So..."
"There is no need for panic."
"The battle is over."
"The enemy is dead."
"And you all are safe now."
Those words spread through the city like a warm breeze after a violent storm.
Many people unconsciously released the breath they had been holding. For the first time since the invasion had begun...
They finally believed they had survived.
"But..." His voice became serious once more.
"This city still has suffered severe damage."
He slowly looked toward the collapsed buildings, broken homes, burning streets, and shattered walls surrounding every district.
"Many of your homes no longer exist."
"Many families have lost everything."
"That is why..."
"My first order as your King is..."
He spoke each sentence clearly so every citizen could hear.
"Do not create unnecessary disorder."
"Remain calm."
"Follow every instruction given to you by the soldiers stationed throughout the city."
"They will guide you."
"They are here to protect you."
"If your home still stands..."
"Return to it immediately and remain there peacefully."
"And your home has been destroyed... Temporary camps will be established."
"You will remain there until further instructions."
"Food..."
"Water..."
"Medical treatment..."
"Shelter... And every necessity required for your survival..."
"...will be provided by the city’s authorities."
Razeal continued without changing his expression.
"Do not interfere with the soldiers carrying out their duties."
"They are working to save lives."
"They are working to restore this city."
"If you truly wish to help..."
"...then cooperate."
His crimson eyes slowly swept across the sea of people one final time.
"Maintain order."
"At a time like this... discipline will save far more lives than panic ever will."
Silence settled over Silver City.
A very long and heavy silence
But it was not the silence of celebration. It was the silence of thousands of minds failing to understand what they had just witnessed. No cheers rose from the streets. No applause echoed through the broken city. Instead, people simply stood where they were, staring at the young man floating above them as though they feared that blinking would shatter whatever strange dream they had fallen into. Mothers still held children they had buried only moments before. Husbands kept touching the faces of wives they had watched die. Friends gripped each other’s shoulders with trembling hands, whispering the same question over and over again. "How?" No one had an answer.
Some of the people who had returned from death looked down at their own bodies with pale faces, touching healed wounds through blood-soaked clothes. Others looked at the corpses beside them that had not belonged to family but had also risen again. It was impossible.
They all knew it was impossible. Magic could heal. Magic could destroy. Magic could create fire, storms, and mountains of ice. But death... death was absolute. That was what every child in the world had been taught. Yet today, before the eyes of the entire city, someone had casually reached into that absolute truth and broken it apart.
Even those who had heard Razeal introduce himself barely reacted. Some had heard every word. Others had only caught pieces of it. Many were still too overwhelmed to even think about who he was. A few quietly repeated his name under their breath, trying to remember whether they had heard it before. Some whispered that perhaps he was a god. Others immediately denied it, insisting gods did not walk among men. An old priest simply stood frozen, his lips moving soundlessly as though every prayer he had ever learned had suddenly become meaningless. Not one person stepped forward to question him. Not one dared to interrupt. They were simply... confused. Deeply, utterly confused.
Razeal looked across the city one final time before speaking again, his expression no different from before, as calm as if he were discussing tomorrow’s weather instead of addressing tens of thousands of people whose understanding of the world had just collapsed.
"And.. One more thing." His voice carried across every street with perfect clarity, causing countless wandering thoughts to halt once more.
"If anyone attempts to take advantage of this situation..."
"If anyone commits violence..."
"If anyone chooses to rob, assault, murder, or spread disorder while this city is recovering..."
"They will be held accountable." His crimson eyes slowly swept across the ruined capital.
"The soldiers standing among you have been assigned temporary authority over Silver City."
"They are responsible for protecting every civilian."
"They are responsible for maintaining order."
"Until this city has recovered... the entire capital will remain under emergency administration."
"So yes.. Behave Yourselves."
His words were neither loud nor passionate. They carried no attempt to inspire. He simply spoke as someone issuing practical instructions after a battle had ended. Perhaps that was why people listened. There was no arrogance in his voice. No demand that they praise him. No declaration that they kneel. He simply gave orders that made sense.
Again, nobody answered.
Queen Grace stood quietly with her hands folded before her, her thoughts still scattered beyond words. Lord Draven slowly let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Lord Kharvek’s usually stern face had completely lost its composure. Lady Veyra simply stared at Razeal as though seeing him for the first time. Even Maria, Sofia, Nancy, and the others found themselves saying nothing. There simply wasn’t anything they could say after witnessing thousands of dead people return to life.
Receiving no response, Razeal gave a faint nod.
"That will be all."
He did not wait for approval.
He did not wait for gratitude.
Without another glance toward the crowd, he slowly descended from the sky until his boots touched the broken stone road with barely a sound.
The moment he landed, every pair of eyes nearby shifted toward him. Sofia looked at him quietly. Maria remained unusually silent. Queen Grace and the gathered lords continued watching him as though trying to understand what kind of man stood before them. Yet Razeal ignored every gaze. Their thoughts were their own concern.
He turned toward the temporary commander of the B-2 Unit temporary Unit Leader."
The woman immediately straightened.
"Commander."
"Contact every active unit."
"Escort all civilians to better designated safe areas."
"Continue following every instruction i just issued aswell."
The woman listened without moving a single muscle.
"Understood." She touched two fingers lightly against the communication device beside her temple.
A faint electronic tone sounded.
Within seconds, encrypted orders had already been transmitted to every B-2 Unit operating throughout Silver City.
She lowered her hand.
"Command successfully distributed."
"Awaiting further orders, Commander."
Her expression remained exactly the same.
Calm.
Precise.
Emotionless.
"No."
"That will be all."
"Understood." She nodded as kept
Standing there silently then.
After that Razeal turn toward Lady Veyra.
"Who is responsible for governing this city?"
Lady Veyra blinked.
"H-Huh...?"
It took her several moments to realize he had spoken to her.
She still wasn’t fully present.
Truthfully, almost no one was.
Only the B-2 Units continued functioning normally, their artificial minds untouched by disbelief or emotion. Every human present remained trapped somewhere between astonishment and reality.
Resurrection.
Real resurrection? Such a thing simply did not belong in this world.
Throughout history, there were ancient tales claiming that one or two gods had once returned a single soul to life. Those stories had survived precisely because they were considered miracles beyond mortal reach. Entire religions had been built upon legends far smaller than what had just happened.
Yet today...
Razeal had restored more than ten thousand lives as though it were simply another spell.
How was anyone supposed to process that?
Lady Veyra finally opened her mouth.
"The City Lord is.. Umm?" Her mind wasn’t yet processing.
Razeal raised one hand, stopping her.
"No."
"Forget it."
"Simply deliver my orders to whoever currently governs Silver City."
"He is to immediately assume responsibility for reconstruction."
"Mobilize every available worker."
"Distribute food, water, medicine, and shelter."
"Repair roads."
"Restore essential buildings."
"And begin rebuilding the city without delay."
He ordered without any hesitation..
Lady Veyra almost spoke.
The words reached the back of her throat before stopping there.
The City Lord couldn’t possibly handle something on this scale. Half the capital had been reduced to rubble. Roads had collapsed. Entire districts would need to be rebuilt from their foundations. Thousands had lost their homes. Food, medicine, timber, stone, labor... everything would require an enormous amount of respect. Far more than the city’s treasury could ever provide. That responsibility belonged to the royal treasury. Only the kingdom itself possessed the wealth to recover from a disaster of this size.
For a brief moment, she turned her eyes toward Queen Grace.
The Queen met her gaze immediately.
Nothing needed to be said.
Grace understood exactly what Veyra had been thinking.
After a moment, she gave the faintest nod. Obiously the royal treasury would bear the burden.
Veyra quietly drew a slow breath before looking back at Razeal.
"Very well."
"Your orders will be delivered."
There was no point arguing over finances now. Whether Razeal had spoken those orders or not, rebuilding the city had always been their first responsibility once the battle ended. The work simply could not be avoided. Silver City was the border of the kingdom. Leaving it in ruins was never an option.
The cost... They would worry about the cost later.
One problem at a time.
Her eyes drifted toward the countless people still gathered throughout the streets.
Many had finally begun moving under the guidance of the B-2 soldiers. Some were helping elderly family members walk. Others carried frightened children in their arms. Though confusion still filled every face, panic had noticeably begun to fade. Order, however fragile, was slowly returning.
Her gaze unconsciously returned to Razeal.
Not once... Not a single person standing here had asked him how he had done it.
Not Queen Grace.
Not the Lords.
Not Sofia.
Not Maria.
Not even Nancy.
It wasn’t because they weren’t curious.
If anything, every one of them wanted an answer more than anything else.
But some questions simply weren’t asked.
Not when the question well.. is too big to be questioned.
Resurrection...
True resurrection...?
That wasn’t merely another powerful spell.
It was something kingdoms would wage wars over.
Religions would collapse for.
Even.. Emperors would kill for.
Every person present understood that much.
If Razeal wished to explain it, he would.
If he did not... No one intended to force the question.
Some secrets were better left untouched.
Some doors, once opened, could never be closed again.
Veyra slowly looked away before turning toward one of the assembled nobles.
Her eyes settled upon Lord Kharvek.
She gave him a small, meaningful nod.
Nothing more.
It was enough.
Kharvek understood immediately.
He stepped forward and inclined his head respectfully.
"I will inform the City Lord at once."
His voice was calm, though the events of the day had clearly left their mark. Even now, part of him still struggled to believe everything he had witnessed.
He turned toward Razeal.
After a brief pause, he lowered his head once.
"My King."
The words came naturally this time.
Not out of blind loyalty.
Nor fear. Simply because, after today, denying reality served no purpose. Whether the kingdom accepted it today or months from now...
Everything had already changed.
Razeal merely looked at him for a moment before giving a slight nod.
He neither thanked him nor offered further instructions.
There was no need.
Kharvek understood.
Without wasting another moment, he leaped into the air, aura gathering beneath his feet before carrying him across the ruined skyline toward the center of Silver City, where the City Lord and the remaining administrative officials would undoubtedly already be trying to make sense of the catastrophe that had unfolded.
His figure disappeared between the damaged towers within moments.
Silence lingered behind him once more.
Not the uncomfortable silence from before...
But the quiet that followed when everyone already knew what had to be done.
The battle was over.
Now the work began.
——