Ryo stood on the marble balcony just outside the palace armory, turning in place as the weight of his new attire settled over him. Gone were the stiff, royal silks. In their place, he wore a sleek crimson battle suit made of fire-resistant cloth—tight-fitting and flexible. The outfit was clearly inspired by martial arts uniforms, but it carried the mark of nobility in its golden embroidery and phoenix emblems etched across the chest and sleeves. Black straps ran diagonally across his torso to secure the scabbard of his massive new greatsword, which gleamed in the afternoon sun. Its blade was wider than his own torso, its edge jagged like fire given form.
He twisted his torso once. "This… feels right."
Kiel sauntered out from the dressing chamber, adjusting the high collar of his brand-new combat jacket. It was an homage to Kazuma Kuwabara, no doubt—with its long hem, deep cerulean hue, and squared shoulders—but tailored to his slimmer frame. Sleek fingerless gloves and shin-guarded boots completed the look. On his belt hung a single dagger, its blade curved like a serpent's fang, with a faint glow tracing the edge.
"I feel like I should pick a fight just to break this in," Kiel said, flashing a grin.
Ryo scoffed. "You look like a delinquent with good taste."
"You look like a kung fu movie exploded on you," Kiel shot back.
Before either could respond further, Ardyn appeared behind them in a gentle sweep of crimson silk robes, his usual layers untouched by practicality or sense. Despite the earlier offer from the royal blacksmiths, he carried no weapon at all.
"No sword?" Ryo asked with a raised brow.
"I am the weapon," Ardyn replied smoothly, brushing past them.
Kiel rolled his eyes. "One of those guys."
Soon after, a groom led three royal steeds into the courtyard—magnificent beasts bred for war, each fitted with intricate saddles and enchanted reins. There was one problem: only three horses.
"What—where's mine?" Ryo asked, frowning.
"Ah," came Theodosia's voice as she approached in elegant travel armor, cape billowing. "Did no one tell you? We're sharing."
Ryo blinked. "We're what now?"
"Ride sharing," she said with a smirk. "Efficient and... intimate."
"I'm not a damn taxi," Ryo muttered.
She was already hoisting herself onto the stallion. "You are now."
Ryo let out a defeated groan before climbing on behind her. "You better not be one of those people who talks the entire ride."
"Oh no," she said sweetly. "I'm much worse."
Meanwhile, Kiel was struggling with a different problem. Lysa stood beside her designated horse, arms crossed.
"You're riding with me," she said flatly.
Kiel held up his hands. "I don't ride with anyone. Especially not hot-headed royalty with control issues."
"You do now."
Before he could protest again, she grabbed the collar of his coat and yanked him up behind her.
"You're lucky I don't mind backseat drivers," she muttered.
Kiel groaned, slumping dramatically. "This day just keeps getting better."
Ardyn, of course, chose the largest and most regal of the steeds. With practiced ease, he mounted it—Ophelia already seated in front of him. The two looked like a painting come to life, ethereal and untouchable.
With the sun dipping low and the road stretching out before them, the group was called back into the palace's grand dining hall for their departure banquet.
---
It was a table like none Ryo and Kiel had ever seen—twenty feet long, carved from moonstone and laced with golden veins. Platters upon platters of food were laid out: roast basilisk glazed with honey-crystal sauce, dragonfruit pies, steaming loaves of sweetroot bread, fire-salt oysters, and bowls of mystic broth that shimmered with spellwork. The air smelled like dreams and spice.
Ryo's eyes went wide.
He didn't wait for anyone. He devoured everything in sight. Chicken legs, bread rolls, desserts—he didn't even bother with utensils after the first few bites.
Kiel watched, a mix of horror and admiration on his face. "How… how are you still alive if you haven't eaten in three weeks?"
Ryo, mouth full, mumbled, "Pain is a great distraction."
Theodosia arched a brow from across the table. "You're going to make yourself sick."
"I'll die happy."
Ardyn delicately cut a piece of roast and tasted it like a wine connoisseur evaluating vintage. "Watching him eat is like witnessing an ancient beast awaken."
Ophelia stifled a giggle behind her hand. "He's passionate. I admire that."
By the time dessert was served—skyberries soaked in starlight syrup—Ryo leaned back in his chair, bloated and satisfied, letting out a sigh of victory.
"I can feel my soul healing."
Theodosia handed him a napkin. "Wipe your face, you animal."
---
As the moon rose, the group gathered in the courtyard once more. Horses saddled. Weapons secured. Firelight danced across their new garments and steel, a flickering omen of the road ahead.
"Your mission," King Varron said solemnly from the palace stairs, "is not just one of protection. It is of influence. Show the Eastern Divide that unity is not weakness. And if war comes… show them fire."
They all bowed in response.
As they set off, Ryo sighed under his breath as Theodosia shifted in the saddle in front of him.
"This is going to be a long ride."
Theodosia glanced back, smirking. "Oh, you have no idea."
And with that, the group galloped into the night—toward conflict, legacy, and the unspoken truth: the fire inside them was only just beginning to burn.