The day began before the sun had fully risen. Alaric stirred slowly, the remnants of sleep fading as the cool morning air drifted through the shutters. He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and walked to the ceramic basin in the corner. He splashed cold water onto his face, the shock of it sharpening his senses, before reaching for a towel.

  He dressed efficiently, simple trousers, a sturdy tunic, and his coat preparing for another day of governance.

  Outside, the city was already awake. But as he walked, a heavy thought weighed on his mind.

  Recently, Alaric had fallen into a predicament regarding his own strength.

  He could feel it deep within his soul….a hard, immutable ceiling. No matter how much he exhausted his mana reserves, and no matter how efficiently he regenerated it again and again, his maximum capacity refused to expand.

  I have reached my absolute potential, Alaric realized with a sinking feeling.

  He wasn't sure if this was the absolute limit of the human soul itself or just his own, but he certainly felt the creeping sense of doom. He had seen strong beings in this world, the Demon General, the high-ranking monsters. He had heard myths of entities far stronger.

  If my growth stops here... how am I supposed to fight them?

  It wasn't that he was weak. Far from it, If the average non-mage human possessed about 100 units of mana. A trained mage usually held between 500 and 1,000.

  Alaric possessed an astonishing 60,000.

  It was a reservoir deep enough to drown an army. However, the cost of magic rose exponentially with the tier of the spell. With his current reserves, Alaric calculated that he might be able to cast a single Transcendent-level spell, the highest tier of magic. He hadn’t cast any as he didn’t know such a spell rather no one knows. He just guessed it’s mana cost with how much the cost increased with each tier of spell.

  His knowledge from his past life only went so far. No Sovereign or Transcendent spells were in his arsenal, and he had no idea how to acquire them. And now that his mana reserves had hit their maximum potential, he realized that raw power wouldn't be enough. He needed stronger spells to utilize that power efficiently.

  Alaric shook off the dark thoughts as he arrived at the new construction sector. He was inspecting the foundation of a new warehouse when he heard frantic running.

  "My Lord!"

  Lex came sprinting toward him, breathless, clutching a stack of papers to his chest.

  "My Lord... someone from the Capital has come," Lex wheezed. "They have asked for your presence immediately."

  Alaric froze. "From the Capital?"

  His mind raced. Wait, it can't be Prince Lucian. That’s absurd. He wouldn't send an envoy without an army behind them.

  "Where are they?" Alaric asked sharply.

  "In the Town Hall guest room, sir."

  Alaric hurried back to the center of the city, his mind running through defensive strategies. He threw open the heavy oak doors of the guest room, prepared for a confrontation.

  Instead, he stopped dead in his tracks.

  Standing by the window, looking out at the bustling city, was a figure with flowing silver hair and a light yellow dress that seemed to glow in the morning light.

  It was Lucia.

  Alaric’s mind screamed. Thorne is going to kill me. He explicitly forbade her from coming to my territory!

  But that thought could wait. The sheer relief and joy washing over him were stronger than the fear of her father.

  Lucia turned, seeing him, and her face lit up. Alaric walked forward quickly, taking her hand and bowing low to kiss her knuckles.

  "Saintess," he breathed. "You are supposed to be safe in the Capital."

  Lucia laughed softly and pulled her hand back only to wrap her arms around him in a tight hug. "It is good to see you too, Alaric."

  "How?" Alaric asked, pulling back to look at her face. "Why are you here?"

  "I took a detour," Lucia explained with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. "My father summoned me to Ironhold immediately. The situation in the Capital is... . So I thought, why not come to Alaric's territory first? I can take a boat to Ironhold from here. It is practically on the way."

  Alaric gave her a pained expression. It was definitely not on the way, but he couldn't bring himself to scold her.

  "You really made such a town..." Lucia said, looking past him out the window again. "Inside this desolate forest? It is incredible."

  Alaric gave a dry laugh. "It keeps me busy."

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  After Lucia cleaned up from her journey and they shared a quick lunch, she announced her intentions. Alaric proposed to "show her around the town." She called it a "date."

  By the time they set out, it was late afternoon. The sky was already turning a deep, bruised orange as the winter sun began its descent.

  Alaric walked her through the town square, acting as a tour guide to his own creation.

  "That is the Town Hall," he pointed out. "And over there, the Treasury. We are currently laying the foundation for a Town Library, I want the citizens to be literate."

  He guided her toward a large structure under scaffolding. "And that will be the Church of the Seven Goddesses. It is not finished, but the refugees already pray there."

  "And where do you live?" Lucia asked, looking around for a castle or a keep.

  "Oh," Alaric pointed to a modest, two-story house near the center. "Right there. It has three bedrooms."

  Lucia raised an eyebrow. "You don't have a manor?"

  "I didn't think about it yet," Alaric admitted. "The house is... empty. The other two rooms don't even have beds."

  He quickly turned to Lex, who was trailing them at a respectful distance. "Lex, fix the house. Make preparations for Her Highness so she can at least sleep comfortably tonight."

  They moved on to the Town Market, and the atmosphere shifted.

  The street was lined with stalls on both sides. The ground floors of the new stone buildings had been converted into shops, restaurants, bars, and inns. The air smelled of spices and sizzling fat.

  Alaric had spent months trying to recreate the cuisine of his past life. He had given half-baked recipes from his memories to the local chefs and shop owners, and they had created fascinating hybrid dishes.

  "What is that?" Lucia asked, pointing to a spinning stack of meat.

  "Sharma," Alaric said. "Try it."

  She took a bite. Her eyes widened. "It is delicious." She handed the rest of the wrap to Alaric.

  Next was a stall selling sweet crepes. Lucia took one bite of the strawberry filling, hummed in delight, and handed the rest to Alaric.

  Then came flour-based fried meats. Then spicy noodles. Then chicken curry with rice. Then cakes and pastries. Finally, a cone of something cold and sweet, ice cream.

  Alaric gave a dry laugh as he accepted yet another half-eaten portion. His stomach was getting full, but he ate everything she handed him without complaint.

  At every stall, the shopkeepers refused to take his money.

  "Please, My Lord! It is on the house!"

  "Take it," Alaric insisted, forcing coins into their hands.

  Lucia watched these interactions with a soft smile. She saw how they looked at him not with fear, but with genuine gratitude and love.

  As the day ended, Alaric took her to a special place. They climbed the stairs of the Watchtower atop the Town Hall.

  It wasn't a skyscraper, only five or six stories high but in the flat expanse of one-two storied houses, it was the tallest point for miles.

  The wind blew gently, ruffling Lucia's silver hair. Below them, the magical lights of the city began to flicker on.

  "I come here whenever I feel tired of everything," Alaric said softly, leaning against the railing. "I see the view of the city... the lights, the movement. It gives me hope. It reminds me that I am working so hard for these people."

  Lucia moved closer to him, her shoulder brushing his.

  "I have seen them," she whispered. "The townspeople... they really love you."

  She turned to face him, her violet eyes reflecting the starlight.

  "Why wouldn't they?" she said, her voice dropping to a hush. "Even I... couldn't stop myself from falling for you."

  Alaric froze. He looked at her, stunned by the confession. He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile.

  Lucia, looking at him, slowly closed the distance. Alaric did the same. Their eyes fluttered shut, and their lips touched.

  It was a soft, tender moment above a city built on hope, a moment Alaric wished could last forever.

  They didn't have dinner; Alaric was stuffed with junk food, and Lucia was full of emotions. They went straight to Alaric's house.

  Alaric bade her goodnight and collapsed into his bed, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to him. He was just drifting off when a soft knock came at the door.

  Knock. Knock.

  Alaric blinked. "Lucia?"

  The door creaked open, and Lucia’s head peeked out. She was holding a pillow.

  "Can I... sleep with you?" she asked, her voice small.

  Alaric shot up, the fear of God and Duke Thorne striking him instantly. "Lucia! We—I can't!!"

  "Hey, don't think of something weird!" Lucia blushed furiously. "I just want to sleep. I miss you, that's all. It’s scary being alone in a strange room."

  Alaric looked at her pleading eyes. He thought for a moment, then sighed, giving in.

  "Fine, but on the other side"

  Lucia climbed into the bed. She didn't stay on her side. She curled up against him instantly, hugging him tight.

  "I missed you so much," she whispered into his chest. "I am always worried for you, Alaric. Every single day."

  Alaric wrapped an arm around her, resting his chin on her head. "I missed you too. And I worry just as much."

  He tightened his hold slightly. "I promise you, Lucia... after the Kingdom's affairs are finally finished... after this war... I will definitely finalize our relationship. We won't have to hide."

  Lucia, thinking about that future, smiled brightly against his tunic. They cuddled closer, drifting off into a sleep deep in their own private world.

  The peace was shattered the next morning.

  CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

  The emergency bell in the watchtower, the same one they had stood upon hours ago began to ring violently. It was the signal for catastrophic danger.

  Alaric’s eyes snapped open. Lucia sat up, clutching the sheets.

  "Stay put," Alaric ordered, leaping out of bed and grabbing his coat. "I need to understand what is happening."

  "No," Lucia said, grabbing her staff from the corner. "I will help."

  There was no time to argue. They ran outside.

  The streets were chaotic. Construction workers were sprinting toward the Town Hall, screaming.

  "Dragon! It's a Sky Dragon!"

  Alaric stopped in the middle of the street and looked up.

  There it was.

  It was a nightmare made of flesh. Its wings spanned twenty meters, casting a terrifying shadow over the district. Its scales were not the blue of the one he had heard of in stories, but a deep, metallic red that looked sharper and harder than plate armor.

  It roared, and the sound created a visible shockwave that shattered the windows of the nearby buildings.

  BOOM.

  The mana emanating from the beast washed over the city. It was heavy, suffocating, and malicious.

  Alaric’s blood ran cold. The pressure... it surpassed even the Demon General he had fought before.

  He stood there, hand gripping his sword, as he laid his eyes on the first S-Rank beast of his life.