Capillata lowered his golden head, half kneeling on the ground, his expression hidden beneath his hair adorned with petals and spices. Whether it was the hair cut short enough to cover only the fair back of the neck, or his position in the triumphal procession, both conveyed to Vasili that the scene he witnessed at the end of the Battle of Anganar was not an illusion - the manifestation of the three-winged angels.
"I, Capillata, a legion’s servant, fortunate to receive the assistance of Flamma Varmah under the protection of the ancestors, have been able to fulfill my duty and contribute to the victory of the Empire, not letting the divine fire down with my utmost efforts."
he spoke as if still unfamiliar with his new identity, reciting the rehearsed lines with a slight trembling in his voice. However, it didn't mean that he rejected power and glory; it was just that he needed to adapt to being the center of attention.
"Now that the flame has been unified, and peace has returned, I have no reason to hold onto the divine fire. Therefore, I request to return the accidentally acquired flame to you, esteemed King Constanz, and I humbly request leniency for my unauthorized actions."
Capillata presented the orange flame he obtained from the Holy Serpent with both hands. Constanz looked down at him while he lowered his head. The entire audience of soldiers ceased their cheers, and silence fell.
A distance away, Vasili squinted his eyes. He knew that the more moving the prepared lines were, the further they were from the speaker's true thoughts. Even now, after several months had passed, he still remembered Capillata's confession on a moonless night on the straw bed. The golden-haired youth believed that Vasili, who repeatedly gave up the attained divine fire, was a fool and vowed that he would never fall in love with the feeling of disillusionment like him...
And now, the young triumphant one trembled all over, his outstretched arms and stiff fingers shaking intensely. To hide his expression, he even buried his face in his arms. Even Vasili, who was a distance away, could see it clearly, so it was impossible for Constanz standing in front of him not to notice. The question was, what action would the aged fingers, pointing downwards, take?
Under the gaze of everyone, the old commander might fulfill his promise ahead of time, allowing the one who achieved great merit to keep the divine fire - this was surely what Capillata had contemplated.
However, even though the flame had almost consumed his humanity when he transformed into a fire dragon, the remaining traces of humanity couldn't nourish such a massive flame - after all, the divine fire was alluring.
If Constanz couldn't restrain the surging temptation, and touched the dangling fruit in Capillata's palm like a trap, another battle would likely erupt, and this time, no one would be able to escape from the hell ignited by the two fire bearers.
A low-pressure vortex rapidly formed, and it was too late to escape. The surrounding soldiers could only take a half step back, even Vasili's arms, folded across his chest, raised goosebumps.
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However, the old and withered claws enveloped the young and smooth hand, bringing Capillata’s five fingers together, and causing him to tightly grasp the divine fire once again.
"I cannot accept it, Capillata," Constanz said slowly and firmly. Then he raised his head, announcing to the crowd with a resounding voice, as if the roar of a dragon had not completely vanished from his tone, "As you all see, I am gradually aging, and what could showcase the arrival of a new dawn better than a servant becoming the first bearer of the flame?" He lowered his gaze and spoke softly to the youth, who raised his head in disbelief, "I admire those who defy fate, but what sets you apart is that perhaps you can truly overcome it." Then, he leaned close to the young man's ear and whispered, shielded from Sandra standing behind him, "Besides, I must thank you. If it weren't for you stepping forward, the maiden would have likely fallen victim to the flames."
The youth could hardly contain tears of joy. Constanz once again announced to the entire army, "He will no longer be a servant but the first of the torch! And he will no longer be Capillata. From now on, you must call him 'Vitulus' - as he desires." He drew his longsword and raised it high towards the sky, "Any violation will be seen as a defilement of our triumph tonight."
The camp instantly erupted in cheers and jubilation. The shouts of "Hail Vitulus!" and "Hail the first torch!" echoed ceaselessly. In the eyes of the crowd, Vitulus was no longer just a human, but a symbol of a brilliant future. They swarmed around, lifting the youth high and carrying him towards a night of revelry. As the procession passed, Vitulus and Vasili locked eyes. Before the exultant triumphant one could register the melancholy in Vasili's gaze, he proactively averted his gaze, taking turns looking at his comrades who surrounded him from below.
"What do you think, Sandra?" Constanz asked the maiden beside him, watching the receding procession. "Do you feel proud?"
"I feel relieved," Sandra replied, ignoring the sarcasm in the conversation, her voice as cold as ever. "Because I see that even the most heinous faults can still be redeemed." After the initial chill dissipated, her tone softened slightly. "I want to thank you for giving that child a fair chance, with loyalty and wisdom."
Silence descended upon them like a curtain falling over the night sky. Constanz shrugged his shoulders and sighed, as if wanting to say something but hesitating.
"You don't need to thank me because I didn't give him any chance," he finally spoke. He caught a glimpse of Sandra raising her delicate eyebrows, the icy mask that never showed any flaws on the battlefield seemed to crack at this moment. "'Weak as you are, unworthy of stepping onto the battlefield.' That was what I told him."
Sandra watched the youth being lifted high in the distance, her emerald eyes shimmering with an glow of disbelief.
"But he...," she murmured absentmindedly.
"He seized the way to shine through brute force. Your bloodline is truely awe-inspiring," Constanz continued, his rough voice trembling slightly. "That power is tens... no, hundreds of times stronger than mine, beyond my comparison. That 'motherless' child can accomplish anything if he so desires; only you, as the maiden, can stop him."
The cold wind of the Luceda Strait seemed to blow away all the words, leaving only the sound of breathing and heartbeats in the silence.
"Do not favor him," Constanz said coldly, the dragon never truly leaving his body. "If necessary, combine the strength of all to balance him."
Sandra took a step forward, looking into Constanz' upright pupils. "Thank you for your advice, brave warrior. I will fulfill my duty as the maiden, with loyalty and wisdom." She put on her icy expression once again, but from her lips flowed words filled with sadness. "But I also hope that you treat him fairly, Constanz." She walked away, returning to the depths of the military camp and her tent.