The Laughing Tiger Tavern, nestled in the vibrant heart of Eryndor, was far more than a mere nighttime gathering spot.
A soft glow emanated from floating crystals — low-level enchantments lazily spinning above the tables. Their amber and lavender hues bathed the faces of patrons in a subtle, welcoming warmth.
The air was thick with the dense scent of mead, grilled meat, and rare spices.
The clinking of mugs and hoarse voices singing folk songs filled the space with life, while in the background, the distant echo of a lute being tuned by a dreamy bard lingered.
At the round central table, marked with ancient carvings on its surface, sat Rick and Cirius.
Their simple linen clothes — stained with dirt, sweat, and freedom — betrayed no status.
Yet their aura was undeniable.
Even in common garb, they carried the latent tension of colossal forces restrained within, like legendary swords sheathed in rustic scabbards.
Rick slammed his mug against the wood, laughing with half-closed eyes as he leaned back, balancing the intoxication and the raw joy of being alive.
"You've got a dragon stuck up your ass" he exclaimed, bursting into laughter. "How did you get so strong? What's the secret"
Cirius smiled like an unsolvable riddle.
His golden eyes reflected the fireplace's light like captive suns.
"Destiny chose me, Rick. I am the final boss of this world. Accept it."
The reply triggered another laugh, louder than the first.
Rick nearly fell from his chair, clutching his belly and infecting a nearby table of young soldiers with overflowing joy.
The happiness was real.
The camaraderie genuine.
Rick raised his mug once more in a toast.
"To the monsters that tried to destroy us... and those who will!"
Cirius mirrored the gesture, narrowing his eyes.
"And to us, who will remind them why mortals should be feared."
Between sips and laughter, they shared a bond forged in battle but tempered by something rarer: mutual respect.
They knew their growth meant not just power, but responsibility.
The gears of Destiny already surrounded them, even as they joked about dragons and Qi sweets.
Patrons whispered as they recognized them.
An old cultivator in worn robes murmured:
"They are the sparks of a new era" — and no one disagreed.
Cirius set down his mug, fingers tracing the table's carved edges.
His serene gaze swept the tavern.
"Sometimes I think we should disappear for months. Train. Meditate. Or just wander. But... something always pulls us back, doesn't it"
Rick nodded, oddly solemn.
The playful tone vanished.
"Those who carry the fire can't drop the torch."
"'Even when it burns'" Cirius whispered in reply.
They both fell silent, listening to the soft melody of the lute.
Time seemed to pause around them.
Far from the City Lights...
In a forgotten corner of the world, where maps dissolved into the void and winds whispered ancient secrets, lay the forest.
At its deepest heart, beneath a tree whose trunk shimmered with silver threads, sat Kaelion Desthiran.
He meditated lotus-style atop a moss-covered stone, his body still as crystal and wind.
Silent.
Yet overflowing with pure, infinite energy.
The tree's roots curled beneath his feet as if supporting him.
Nature held its breath.
Mist-forged butterflies landed on his shoulders.
A white stag lay beside him.
Leaves danced gently in the windless air.
Kaelion meditated to understand the world.
When his ice-blue eyes opened briefly, they reflected more than the sky — possible futures, unrealized destinies, choices yet unmade.
He saw destiny flow like a visible river.
"Everyone wishes to change the future" he mused calmly. "But few accept the price of knowing what's to come."
The forest breathed with him.
His home — carved from living stone and blossoming wood — rose camouflaged behind him, etched with runes of protection, circles of silence, and anti-disturbance amulets.
Kaelion chose voluntary exile not from arrogance, but clarity.
His presence altered events.
His knowledge could change civilizations.
So he remained silent.
The River of Destiny whispered.
And Kaelion listened.
The Reborn City
As laughter and toasts echoed through the capital's taverns, another sound spread through Eryndor's streets: reconstruction.
Hammers struck in sync with workers' chants.
Children ran through rebuilt markets.
Priests traced protective runes on doors with silent prayers.
Since Emperor Orion's Rejuvenation Ritual, the empire itself seemed rewoven with threads of hope.
A veil lifted from its people's eyes, revealing the future with stunning clarity.
Generations raised in ancestral shadows now raised flags with pride.
New talents emerged among revitalized youth — gifts once seen only over centuries.
Children awakened abilities early, forcing the masters of the Celestial Academy to rewrite their teachings.
Squares filled with crowds.
Cultivators taught meditation outdoors.
Vendors sold spirit fruits, blessed amulets, and ancient scrolls like sweets.
And behind this silent revolution lingered something more — a subtle scent of eternity.
As if the empire breathed anew.
As if Eryndor was finally more than hope.
It was a reborn civilization.
"This is no longer the city I feared to lose" thought an old counselor, watching the crowd from a temple balcony.
"It is the new seed of the world."
On the Southern Coast, where cliffs curved over the sea like sleeping colossi, a small town rested between salt and silence.
Here, far from politics and armor, Orion found peace.
Seated beneath a rustic wooden pergola floating by the shore, he watched the ocean beside Lyra.
The salty breeze stirred the golden threads of his cloak.
His eyes caught only the ebb and flow of the tide.
The coffee cooled slowly.
Its bitter aroma mixed with seagulls' cries and waves breaking on stones.
Lyra stared at the horizon, a closed book resting on her lap.
Here, suspended between realms, the emperor seemed just a man.
Until the world stopped.
『DING』
Lyra lifted her eyes.
Orion's fingers tightened around the cup.
『Eryndor Empire confirmed: Stable Ascension』
『Innate Realm Cultivators: 1,547』
『Active Prodigies: 300』
『...』
『Rewards Granted...』
The air shifted.
The pergola trembled lightly.
The sky seemed to peel back, revealing a light not from the sun.
『Rewards Awarded』
『• Legendary Title: Eternal Emperor
• Divine Skill: Absolute Authority
• Celestial Artifact: Imperial Core Celestial Crown
• Rare Item: Eternal Dragon Core
• Special Power: Blessing of Infinite Prosperity
• Passive Skill: Vision of the Omnipotent Ruler
• Divine Resource: Governance Crystal Nexus
• Army Bonus: Eternal Light Army
• Special Item: Universal Destiny Map』
Reality itself acknowledged Eryndor not as a kingdom, but as the world's future throne.
Orion remained silent.
His eyes fixed on the horizon where sea met sky at an impossible point.
He absorbed the moment like a warrior breathing after a long battle — knowing more was coming, but savoring the victory.
Lyra gently touched his hand.
"What was that" she asked.
He smiled — not the public, ceremonial smile, but a quiet, almost sad one.
Like watching a child's first steps toward a long journey.
"Destiny still smiles on us" he murmured softer than the wind.
"Eryndor has only just begun to awaken."
For a moment, they hung suspended.
The sea deepened.
The sky grew higher.
Time slowed.
And the world... shrank.
The breeze carried a hidden meaning, as if the stars bore witness and recorded it:
the empire had begun to touch infinity.