Ei'en's royal palace was considered one of the greatest structures in all the Kuro Empire, if not the known world. But this was more than just a palace; it was a fortress, carved into the mountains that loomed behind the city, giving the royal family a bird's-eye view of Ei'en and the lands stretching for hundreds of miles in every direction. The city itself was a sprawling expanse, home to countless millions, rivaling even the Empire’s major port cities to the east. Though mountainous, the climate here was hot and humid, a stark contrast to the cooler, northern reaches of the empire.
Ryohei stood on a balcony high above the city, taking in the vibrant sea of rooftops and winding streets. As he looked over the city, Ryohei’s lips curled into a rare smile. The arena promised a good show today—perhaps even a few recruits worthy of his personal guard. Grabbing his katana, he turned and made his way to his palanquin. It was a far more peaceful way to travel, sparing him the usual swarm of young girls who didn't realize he was old enough to be their grandfather.
The curse of looking eternally youthful due to cultivation came with many benefits, but the constant attention of infatuated youths was not one of them. Ryohei, perhaps twenty years ago, might have entertained a night of indulgence, but those days were behind him. Romance held little allure at this stage of his life; his wife and two concubines kept him more than content. Even if the concubines were initially political arrangements, he'd grown fond of them, and they rarely fought out of jealousy—though he wasn't blind to their subtle competition for their children's advancement in his favor.
The palanquin jostled as it moved through the crowded streets of Ei'en. In the heart of the city, especially around the arena, the atmosphere was alive with energy. The crowds were denser here, drawn by the promise of today's fights. Despite the chaos, Ryohei found the hustle and bustle comforting. The war with the Kalaminra Alliance had reached a stalemate after years of brutal fighting. The economy was strained, lives lost beyond count. Though both sides had retreated to uneasy borders, minor skirmishes flared occasionally. Morale was low, and he knew that the people needed a distraction—something to lift their spirits, even if only for a day.
As the palanquin came to a halt, the carriers gently set it down. “Let me out at the entrance,” Ryohei instructed. “It’s good for the people to see their prince in public now and then.”
"As you wish, milord," came the response, followed by the soft click of the palanquin’s window being closed.
Stepping out, Ryohei was immediately greeted by the cheers of a small crowd that had gathered.
"It's the Crown Prince!"
"He's so handsome!"
"Isn't he supposed to be an old man?"
"Do you think he's here for the arena today?"
The chatter washed over him like a wave. He gave the crowd a courteous smile and a wave. As he made his way through the bustling throng, the sound of laughter drew his attention. A small child had tripped, sprawling face-first into the dirt. The crowd around the boy went silent, a ripple of fear passing through them. Whispers spread like wildfire—stories of the Crown Prince’s harshness in his younger days still lingered.
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But Ryohei was no longer the ruthless man he had once been. Without hesitation, he knelt down, lifting the child gently to his feet. “Are you alright, little one?” he asked, his tone warm and reassuring.
The child’s wide eyes filled with awe, but he nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.”
Ryohei smiled and placed a hand on the child’s head, closing his eyes in a silent prayer to Saisei, the goddess of renewal. A soft, golden light emanated from his palm, leaving a faint phoenix mark on the child’s forehead before fading away. “May Saisei’s blessing be with you,” he said.
The child's mother rushed forward, tears in her eyes as she bowed low. “Thank you, Crown Prince, for your kindness and blessing.”
“Raise your head,” Ryohei said gently. “It’s the duty of those with power to care for those without.” He handed the child back to her, giving a final nod before continuing toward the towering arena that dominated the district skyline.
Walking through the crowd became easier as his six guards formed a protective perimeter around him. They were not just for show; each was a formidable warrior, capable of handling nearly any threat. Yet, Ryohei didn’t mind the people pressing in—he took comfort in observing them closely. His eyes roved over the faces, each one a glimpse into a life far removed from the empire’s political intrigues.
"It must be nice to be so carefree," he murmured, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.
Then, he saw her.
Time seemed to slow. The noise of the crowd faded to a distant murmur. His heartbeat quickened, a drum in his ears. Standing just ahead, beside a tall woman dressed in the elegant robes of a Phoenix Academy master, was a girl no older than fourteen with piercing blue eyes. Eyes that mirrored those of the girl he had condemned half a century ago.
'This isn't possible,' Ryohei thought, panic tightening his throat. 'Is this her ghost? Or has some deity sent a reincarnation to mock me?' He blinked several times, willing the vision to vanish, but the girl remained. There was no mistaking it; she was the very image of the one he had once known—the one he had allowed to be executed for defying orders.
A flash of memory gripped him, pulling him back to that fateful day. He could hear the creaking of wood, the murmurs of a horrified crowd. Then, the sudden snap of the rope. Her body had jerked once, then gone still, swinging lifelessly. His stomach twisted at the memory, the old guilt rising like bile in his throat.
“Lord Ryohei?” one of his guards spoke, his voice tinged with concern. “Is something the matter, milord? You look... unsettled.”
Ryohei tore his gaze away from the girl, forcing himself to regain his composure. “Send someone to fetch Kuronuma,” he ordered, his voice hoarse. “Tell him to meet me at the observation platform in the arena. Immediately.”
The guard hesitated, worry etched into his features. “Milord, is everything alright? Shall I accompany you?”
“No,” Ryohei snapped, the sharpness of his tone causing the guard to flinch. He softened his voice, trying to mask the turmoil within him. “Just do as I say.”
With a quick bow, the guard sprinted toward the main entrance. Ryohei turned back to where he had seen the girl, but she was gone, lost in the crowd. His hands trembled as he clenched them into fists.