The capital of Warduica, Emuferp, was alive.
Banners bearing the sigil of the empire hung from every house and wall. Tall watchtowers were covered in sheets of golden cloth that shimmered brilliantly under the sun. Every rooftop and balcony overflowed with people leaning forward eagerly. Every road was crammed with citizens waiting, buzzing with anticipation.
The air trembled with voices—
voices of excitement, laughter, the clang of ceremonial bells ringing from the Six Grand Churches.
Merchants had stopped their usual price calls and instead shouted blessings. Bakers handed out warm bread to passing children. Performers in vibrant costumes danced along the streets.
The main avenue, Starfall Road, was packed shoulder to shoulder.
Old men, fathers and mothers lifting their kids. soldiers standing tall in polished armor, knights in disciplined formation… even they couldn't hide the faint sparkle of excitement in their eyes today.
For today was no ordinary festival.
Today, the Rising Star candidates arrived—six prodigies, one chosen from each great dukedom.
The first sound was hooves.
Then, a heartbeat later, the cheering exploded.
Carriages rolled down the avenue one by one. Flags waved wildly. Children ran alongside them, laughing.
Above the crowd, on the balcony of the Emperor's Palace, the golden curtains parted. The people screamed in awe.
Today, the Emperor would speak.
The carriages stopped at the designated point—each belonging to a different dukedom.
—
Orynneya Dukedom
The carriage of the Orynneya Dukedom arrived first.
When Duke Castorik Orynneya stepped out, the street erupted.
Castorik, dressed in an immaculate black-and-gold suit, his hair perfectly styled. His smile was warm as he waved around.
The crowd screamed:
"PLEASE MARRY ME!!!"
"DUKEEE, YOU ARE SO HANDSOME!!"
"OH MY GOD, DUKE, LOOK OVER HERE!!"
Castorik waved elegantly, thinking,
How nice. They still flock to me.
He flashed a soft smile at the shrieking fans.
—
Dansal Dukedom
Another carriage halted beside Castorik's.
Out stepped Duke Dansal, a tall, broad-shouldered man with a neatly trimmed beard and hazel-green eyes. His attire was simple compared to Castorik's—dark armor polished to a shine, marking him clearly as a warrior duke.
He smirked at Castorik.
Castorik returned the smile. "Hello, Duke Dansal."
The crowd erupted again:
"DUKKEE, SO HANDSOME!!"
"Aye woman, you called Duke Castorik beautiful as well—choose a single man!"
"MARRY ME, DUKE!!"
"YOU TOO!!!"
"THEY LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER!!"
"Duke Dansal is married!" someone shouted.
Dansal ignored the chaos and instead stepped closer to Castorik, his smirk widening.
"You look skinny. You sick?"
"Thank you for your concern," Castorik replied. "But I'm quite alright, you see."
—
Oceleon Dukedom
The next carriage rolled forward, this one deep black with silver embroidery.
A woman stepped out—Duchess Theresea Oceleon—wearing an elegant black dress that shimmered with tiny gemstones. Her dark hair curled perfectly around her shoulders, and she carried herself with the calm confidence of someone who is adored.
The male side of the crowd exploded.
"WOAAHH, SHE'S HERE!!"
"LADY THERESEA, MARRY ME!!"
"No—why you?! She should marry us!"
"SHE IS SO CUTE I WISH SHE STEPPED ON ME!!"
"What the hell?!"
Duchess Theresea rolled her eyes. "I'm not marrying any of you monkeys."
The crowd squealed.
"KYAA! SHE CALLED US MONKEYS—SHE'S SO COOL!!"
She approached Castorik and Dansal with graceful steps.
Dansal bowed politely and kissed her hand.
"It's good to see you two doing well."
She nodded. "Today seems like a good day."
Castorik smiled. "Exactly what I thought."
Both Theresea and Dansal turned to him, eyebrows raised.
"Oh? Why don't you tell us about it?" they asked in unison.
Castorik's smile stiffened. "Hell no."
—
Instiden Dukedom
A simple, understated carriage rolled up next.
Out stepped Duke Instiden, the oldest of the six—a man in his late seventies with a straight spine, silver hair tied neatly, and sharp eyes. Despite his age, he carried an air of dignity.
"He actually came!" one citizen whispered.
"How the hell is he alive?!"
Instiden simply nodded toward the other dukes and took his place.
—
Afuner Dukedom
The next to arrive was Duke Afuner, His eyebrows were thick, his beard unkempt, and his clothes practical rather than decorative.
The crowd quieted slightly.
"Is he… smiling?" someone whispered.
"No."
"Is he frowning?"
"I dunno?."
Duke Afuner grumbled, "These events are too loud."
Castorik smiled politely. "Good to see you too."
Afuner only grunted.
—
Cranis Dukedom
The final carriage burst with bright colors and blowing trumpets.
Duke Cranis, the youngest duke, jumped out with a cheerful grin. His golden-brown hair bounced as he waved energetically to the crowd.
"So how is everyone!?" he shouted.
The crowd cheered wildly—his enthusiasm was contagious.
Children especially adored him, waving excitedly.
"DUKE CRAANIS!!"
"HE'S SO COOL!!"
Cranis beamed and ran up to join the others.
"You all look so tense," he laughed. "Smile a little!"
Afuner glared at him.
Cranis only grinned wider.
Just then, a deep horn blasted through the air.
A soldier on the palace steps shouted at the top of his lungs.
"THE EMPEROR IS HERE!!"
Instant silence swallowed Emuferp.
The emperor stepped onto the balcony.
He looked older now—younger than Instiden, yet weaker, his hair thinning. Still, his smile was warm, gentle, almost grandfatherly.
He raised a hand.
"My people of Warduica… Today is the Rising Star Festival, as you all know. Heroes, chosen by dukes from different regions, will choose their faith today. The six churches… among them, the heroes will choose one that suits them most, and then serve the empire with the blessings."
A calm voice, steady and familiar.
"I am in good spirits to witness it. So I hope you are as well. As the greatest nation in the world… let us see the heroes."
Excitement ignited instantly.
"LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!!
LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!!"
The cheering shook the stones beneath their feet.
Just then, the carriage doors of the dukes and duchess opened once more.
Six figures stepped out—each one the chosen Rising Star of their dukedom. Their faces were hidden beneath ceremonial white veils that covered their heads entirely. None could be unveiled until they chose their faith.
The crowd went wild.
The six stood beside their respective dukedoms, then began walking along Starfall Road toward the palace—a procession accompanied by roaring applause.
The Faith Choosing Festival would happen in the evening.
For now, they were to assemble inside the Imperial Castle.
The castle itself towered at the center of the capital, marble pillars rising like white spears toward the sky.
—
They entered the grand meeting hall—a massive chamber with a long polished table carved from ancient oak. Murals of past emperors lined the walls.
The Rising Stars were in the other room, as the meeting was only for the dukes and the emperor.
When the emperor entered, everyone rose and bowed.
He raised his hand again.
"Please, sit."
As they took their seats, he smiled.
"It is great to be here today… but first, I think we should check on each region, right?"
He gestured.
The reports began.
—
Duke Dansal's Report—
Dansal rose next, armor clinking.
"Your Majesty, the Dansal region is stable. Monster activity in the northern forests increased last month, but we handled it. Also, my wife wants to remind Your Majesty that the wine Your Majesty liked last winter has been bottled again."
The emperor smiled warmly.
"Ah, wonderful. I'm very thankful to Miss Leila for always looking out for me."
Dansal smirked at Castorik.
—
Duchess Theresea's Report—
Theresea stood elegantly.
"In the Oceleon region, everything is perfectly under control. Crime is down. Productivity is up. No rebellions. Frankly speaking, it's boring."
The emperor laughed. "Boring is good, Duchess Oceleon. Though I really am impressed by you, Theresea. You transformed one of the most troublesome regions of criminals into a proper city."
Theresea smiled. "Thank you, Your Highness."
—
Duke Instiden's Report—
The elderly Duke Instiden slowly stood. Even the other dukes quieted respectfully.
"Your Majesty… my region is peaceful, as always. The harvest was bountiful. The scholars continue their research. And the Everline Community has made groundbreaking achievements this year."
He nodded firmly.
"Most pleasant to hear." The emperor smiled. "Thank you for your work, Duke Instiden."
—
Duke Afuner's Report—
Afuner pushed back his chair with a grunt.
"Hrm. Emperor. My region is fine.
The people are loud.
The weather is too hot.
The weather is also too cold.
My advisors are incompetent.
But nothing is on fire.
So it is acceptable."
Silence.
Theresea blinked.
Cranis stifled a laugh.
The emperor nodded slowly.
"…I'm glad nothing is on fire."
Afuner sat down again with a thud.
—
Duke Cranis's Report—
Cranis leapt to his feet.
"Your Majesty! Everything is amazing! The children are happy, the markets are booming, the adventurers are in high spirits, and we even built a giant wooden statue of my pet chicken!"
The entire table stared at him.
Afuner looked bewildered as he questioned, "…Why?"
Cranis looked at him, replying, "Because she's a hero."
"A chicken?" Dansal asked again.
"A very brave chicken, Duke Dansal."
The emperor smiled like a tired father.
"Well… continue the good work, Duke Cranis."
"YES, YOUR MAJESTY!"
—
Duke Castorik Orynneya's Report—
Castorik stood gracefully.
"The Orynneya Dukedom is flourishing, Your Majesty. Trade from the southern ports has increased by twelve percent. Our roads have been expanded."
He flashed a charming smile.
"And the raid of this month was certainly amazing... It was most surprising, my lord."
Dansal groaned quietly. Theresea rolled her eyes.
The emperor chuckled.
"How come you are so excited?"
Castorik continued, clearing his throat. "This year, the raid was a goblin raid with a ruda… must I say, it was hard. A surprise attack was launched, but we defended it with minimum casualties."
"HAH! A GOBLIN? CASUALTIES? REALLY, CASTORIK? THAT WAS YOUR AMAZING MONTH?" Dansal laughed loudly, slamming his hand on the table.
The emperor raised a hand, silencing him immediately, before turning back to Castorik.
"I see, Duke. But how come it is amazing?"
Castorik bowed slightly. "My Highness, I'll tell that to you personally. It's not something I should discuss here."
The others sighed and booed dramatically, some smirking amongst themselves. The emperor, however, smiled faintly.
"It's alright, Duke. Also—how is the five-star quest going? In the Ulcaster Islands?"
Castorik froze. His jaw tightened before he lowered his gaze. "My lord… I don't think it's going well. From the letters I have received, it seems worse than expected…"
The emperor's expression dimmed. "I see… should we send manpower?"
Castorik glanced sideways at the dukes. 'Manpower? So these mongrels can mock me?'
He could almost feel their anticipation—waiting for him to slip, waiting for a failure to stain his record. He straightened his back and smiled.
"Not at all, my lord. I'm sure we can handle it. After all, you sent us the guilds of the entire country. No way they will lose."
The emperor sighed softly. "I understand, Castorik. I'll wait for good news."
The other dukes exchanged glances—some disappointed they couldn't tease him more—as the meeting continued with some breakfast being presented.
—
The atmosphere was completely different. The six new heroes sat scattered around the lounge-like chamber, veils still covering their heads.
"So… what's your name, sweetheart?"
A tall man leaned back lazily on his chair, long brown hair tied in a loose ponytail. His shoulders were broad, and he wore a confident smile. Even through the veil, it was noticeable.
The girl beside him ignored him coldly.
He chuckled. "I'm Giroyo. If you don't mind, why don't we go on a date?"
The woman finally turned her head. Her voice was sharp. "No thanks."
Her veil covered her face, but her body—her body told everything to Giroyo. An attractive woman. A faint pin on her chest had her name: Serin.
Across the room, another man sat by the window. He was slim, almost frail-looking, with long fingers that tapped the glass absentmindedly. His dull, exhausted eyes watched the courtyard below.
He had murmured his name when someone asked earlier: Tavion.
A kid—clearly the youngest of them—sat happily snacking on pastries. His legs dangled off the chair, not even reaching the floor.
His veil bobbed as he ate. "Mm… I'm Alfeus!" he had introduced himself proudly.
Morgan stood near the corner, veil draped over him, silent. He clicked his tongue at the noise. Another girl approached him.
She leaned in slightly. "My, you look handsome here…" A small badge near her shoulder with her name: Irelle.
Morgan didn't move.
Irelle's lips curled in mild annoyance as she leaned closer to Morgan, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.
"Hey, handsome. You single?"
Morgan turned his head slightly, his voice flat and cold. "I'm not interested. Don't touch me."
She chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "My my… someone's playing hard to get."
Before Morgan could respond, footsteps approached. Tavion walked over—his usual distant, hollow gaze now sharpened with focus. Even through the veil, the tension in his posture was clear.
He stopped in front of Irelle.
"You… why are you showing hostility?" he asked quietly.
Irelle's eyes widened behind the veil. Morgan looked at Tavion, surprised that the dull-eyed, quiet man had noticed something he himself didn't notice.
Irelle tilted her head. "Whatever you mean."
The room grew silent. The other candidates turned to watch, sensing something had shifted. Even the young Alfeus paused mid-bite. Giroyo smirked, amused, while Serin's fingers hovered near the small dagger hidden at her belt.
Irelle and Tavion locked eyes. Her posture softened for a moment—then she smiled.
She slowly raised her hand.
A small orb of light formed in her palm.
Tavion's eyes widened beneath the veil.
Morgan's hand moved instinctively.
But he was too late.
—
BOOOOOOMMMM—
A deafening explosion erupted from deep within the castle—shaking the entire capital.
Outside, every citizen of Emuferp froze. Heads whipped toward the towering structure at the center of the city as dust and fractured stone burst outward in a plume.
The festival's cheers turned into gasps.
As a fight had occurred.