The aroma of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air like a silent invitation to contemplation. Bitter notes mingled with the salty sea breeze drifting through the open balcony, carrying the serene sound of waves lapping against distant rocks.
Seated at a hand-carved oak table, Orion silently watched golden holograms hovering before him. The divine rewards still pulsed with energy as they rotated slowly in the air.
He observed them only briefly. No awe lit his eyes. No ambition tightened his features. A simple nod was his only acknowledgment. To him, these were not achievements—but reflections.
Everything displayed had been built with more than strength. Rewards didn't define his journey; the steps taken and those who walked beside him did.
His gaze left the holograms and settled on Lyra.
She sat facing the sea, twirling a loose strand of hair. Her fingers moved lightly, but her eyes... those eyes were distant. Soft melancholy clung to them like the final chord of an unfinished song. She too wandered through memories.
Orion smiled—a disarmed, unguarded smile stripped of crowns and cloaks. Just a man.
"'And now?'" he asked, voice softened by gentle exhaustion. "'We've explored so much... the world feels small'"
Lyra looked up, playful light sharpening her gaze—the rare kind that preceded calculated chaos.
"How about another auction?"
Her accompanying smile could slice through plans yet sweeten the path to the world's end.
"Who knows?" she added, stretching like someone shaking off afternoon lethargy. "We might find another Destiny Capsule. That last chaos was epic. I'll never forget those desperate immortal cultivators... chasing what was already in our bag"
Orion laughed—pure, weightless.
"That temple elder nearly pissed himself when you said the artifact was cursed"
Lyra tilted her head, feigning modesty.
"He couldn't look at me afterward" she smiled. "And to think we escaped three rival sects with just charm, improvisation... and a pinch of luck"
"The Scarlet Desert battle was better" Orion raised an eyebrow. "You convinced an elemental dragon we were heaven-sent envoys"
"Dragons are like giant cats" Lyra shrugged. "Flatter them, and they'll be your best friends. Though... that one just seemed lonely"
"And the Temple of Eternal Night?"
"Ah, the Mirror of Shadows..." she sighed theatrically. "Disguising myself as the High Priestess was my finest role. I nearly exploded holding back laughter"
Laughter filled the balcony, weaving with sea sounds and coffee scent—light, unburdened.
Orion leaned back, setting his cup down slowly. His eyes no longer sought the sea. They sought time. Memories. The paths that led him here... and the duty calling him back.
"Time to return" he murmured, almost to himself. "I've been away from the empire too long"
Lyra didn't answer immediately. Wind lifted her hair gently. When she spoke, her voice was softer, intimate.
"Must you go?"
Orion turned slowly, gaze locking with hers. Golden dusk light painted his face in honey and amber.
"This isn't about leaving or staying Lyra. It's duty. They need me"
She looked away. For a heartbeat, her strength vanished. Only the woman behind the strategies, flawless lies, and perfect disguises remained—smaller before this farewell.
"So... this is it?"
Orion didn't answer. He walked to her. His steps lacked an emperor's firmness—hesitant, unwilling. He stopped before her, breathed deeply.
"What if... you came with me?"
Lyra blinked, startled. Time froze. The sea stilled. The sun hesitated.
She didn't speak at once. But her eyes said everything—shining as they only did before a "yes."
"Let me think..." she said, a contained smile forming. "I'll tell you later"
Orion already knew. Her eyes held the answer.
Days Later
Silence over Eryndor's eternal fields broke as two travelers walked side by side. Grass danced in wide waves, as if the world itself celebrated their return from distant lands. Hills rolled under a cloudless gold sky—jade seas swaying to an ancient world's breeze.
Orion's eyes stayed fixed on the horizon, where the capital's towers rose like sentinels against time. To his left, Lyra walked quietly, wind lifting her loose hair, gaze tracing the sky. Neither spoke, but the silence wasn't empty—it brimmed with unspoken promises, shared memories, and all yet to come.
"'Last time I saw these gates... I felt different'" Orion said, eyes unwavering. "'Will the empire be the same?'"
Lyra answered with her signature lightness.
"Do you want it to be?"
He hesitated.
"'Perhaps not. Perhaps I'm the one who must change'"
The word hung between them like subtle perfume: Change. Always a weight and blessing for emperors. Change too much, lose respect. Change too little, the empire rots.
As they approached, patrols emerged. First two scouts, eyes widening in recognition. Then trumpets echoed. Then drums.
When Orion crossed the gates, soldiers knelt. Guards hesitated before speaking. Citizens paused mid-step. Slowly, the capital vibrated.
But among all watching faces, Orion sought only one: hers.
And Lyra stood there. Always one step beside him—never behind.
Imperial Palace
The main hall doors opened with contained thunder. Advisors stood in flawless formation—reports, forecasts, and recommendations organized on enchanted scrolls.
Gaius spoke first.
"Harvests overflow Majesty" he bowed. "Thanks to the divine ability granted to us"
Immediately, a soft chime echoed in Orion's mind:
『Ability: Absolute Authority
•5-year climate control. Stability guaranteed.』
He remained calm. Outwardly listening. Inwardly reflecting:
'Five years without drought, plagues, cruel winters... time to consolidate our foundation'
Feroz presented trade growth charts. The diplomatic adviser proposed new alliances. The military commander detailed army maneuvers. Security reported suspicious border movements. The political strategist outlined gold-flow routes. The civil adviser warned of population growth and cultural tensions in newly integrated provinces.
Orion listened to all. His eyes showed no haste—only depth.
"You've done well" he finally said. "But the work has only begun. This empire... has only awakened"
The words echoed as decree and prophecy.
Under the Starlight
In the palace's inner garden—among silver-leaved trees and fountains whispering ancient songs—Lyra walked alone. No adornments. No formal robes. Just her—raw and true as the emotions swirling within.
Orion found her there. In silence. As if he knew she waited.
"You don't have to stay if you don't want to"
She turned, serene.
"I came for you. Not the empire. My choice is made"
He approached, taking her hand.
"This empire may be my duty. But being with you... is my choice"
Here, the emperor wasn't distant. Just a man returned—not for glory, but for love.
Next Morning
The council chamber stood emptier. Quieter. Only Orion and Ankar remained.
"I wish to prepare a wedding ceremony" Orion stated firmly. "I want Lyra as my empress"
Ankar's eyebrows arched.
"Majesty... this is significant"
"I know"
"She's intelligent, loyal... immensely capable. But what makes her worthy of the throne beside you?"
Orion thought long. Answered calmly.
"She is strength in silence. Courage without arrogance. With her... I'm not the emperor. I'm myself"
Ankar watched him. In years of service, he'd never seen Orion so certain—and so human.
"She completes you"
"She gives me peace"
The counselor smiled, moved.
"Then she'll be the empress this empire deserves. Leave the rest to us Majesty. We'll create a ceremony worthy of the love you've described"
Orion nodded. His eyes turned toward the window—where city towers touched the sky.
"Thank you Ankar. This time... it's for me. And for her"