Her gaze softened, almost maternal, as she stepped closer, the silk of her gown rustling softly. "I am truly grateful, not just as the Queen, but as a mother," she said, voice trembling slightly. "Thank you… for saving my children… my family… and this city."

Nolan bowed slightly, calm and modest, though his aura still radiated quiet power. "There's no need for that. I just did what I was supposed to do," he said, his tone even yet carrying the weight of all he had endured. The faint lines of exhaustion around his eyes told a story of battles fought and dangers faced, but he didn't linger on them.

The Queen turned to the King, curiosity flickering across her face like sunlight through a cloud. "Darling… did you accept the offer?"

"No," the King replied calmly, his voice steady, betraying nothing. "He declined."

The Queen's brow furrowed slightly as she thought for a moment. Wow… he truly declined, she reflected silently. To work here was such an honorable job, a position of immense responsibility and they were prepared to pay him handsomely. She shook her head, almost in disbelief at his resolve.

"Well…" Nolan's voice broke the quiet, soft but carrying a warmth that seemed to fill the space, "I'm still going to decline." He offered a gentle smile, almost shy, but there was no mistaking the firmness beneath it.

The Queen's eyes widened slightly, curiosity sharpening. "Okay… but you're not joining the Hero Party? Or do you want to?"

Nolan shook his head firmly, the subtle intensity in his gaze leaving no room for doubt. "No, I'm not."

The Queen nodded, a trace of understanding in her expression. Her hand brushed lightly against the side of her face, as if processing the weight of his decision. "Ah… so you truly don't want anything to do with the Empire," she said, her voice quiet, reflective. "Then… I want to ask you this. I also want to know the details of what happened. Where… did this all start?"

Nolan straightened slightly, his expression sharpening with focus, the faint glow of determination in his eyes contrasting the soft lamplight in the room. "Okay… I'll tell you. Luthar, the champion of the Empire, whom you all think highly of, he's the one behind the cult. And not only that, he has killed countless people and forced them to join the cult," he said, voice even but heavy with truth, each word slicing through the still air.

The room fell into a stunned silence, as if the walls themselves were listening. The only sound was the faint crackle of the fireplace and the quiet hum of the city outside.

The King's voice finally broke the quiet, low and grave. "Wow… that's so evil. I didn't actually expect that. But…" He paused, his brow furrowing in thought, "I always knew something was fishy about him. There were rumors, whispers, that never quite made sense until now."

The Queen's lips pressed together, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Indeed," she said softly, almost to herself. "His ambition… it reached far beyond what anyone imagined. He wasn't satisfied with just strength or power. He craved control, influence, fear… everything."

Nolan's gaze flicked between them, steady, but his mind wandered briefly to the battles he had endured, the lives he had saved, and the countless innocent faces he had seen twisted by fear. The weight of their expressions, the shock, the worry, the awe, made the silence heavy, thick with unspoken emotions.

The Queen stepped closer again, lowering her voice, almost conspiratorial. "And this cult… it stretches further than we realized? He's infiltrated cities, towns… even some of our own advisers?"

Nolan's jaw tightened slightly. "Yes. He's clever, dangerous, and relentless. He doesn't act like a normal villain. He plans, manipulates, and leaves chaos in his wake. And if we're not careful, he could rebuild even from defeat."

The King's hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles white. "Then we must act quickly. And… we must trust you, Nolan. I can see now that it wasn't just skill or strength. There's something more in you. Something that sets you apart."

Nolan gave a small nod, eyes calm but thoughtful. "It's not about me. It's about stopping him, protecting people, making sure this doesn't happen again. That's all I'm concerned with."

The Queen's eyes glimmered with a mixture of pride and relief, almost tears forming. "You truly are… extraordinary," she whispered. "Both as a warrior and as a protector."

The room fell silent once more, the weight of the revelation settling like a heavy cloak. Outside, the wind rustled through the palace gardens, carrying the distant sounds of the city recovering, unaware of how close it had come to ruin.

"Thank you for saving us," the King said, reclining slightly on the sofa, his shoulders tense with relief and exhaustion. "That cell… it will be reinforced beyond anything we've ever built. Luthar is not just dangerous. He is a threat that cannot escape. I'll order the royal knights to sweep the city. Every assassin, every last remnant of his cult, will be hunted down. No one slips through our hands after what he's done."

Nolan's eyes remained calm, his presence still commanding. "Luthar didn't just fight for power. He dragged his wife, Cynthia, into this nightmare. And their daughter… he used her as a sacrifice in the cult's ritual. Their plan wasn't just murder or theft of power. They wanted to destroy this world entirely."

The King's hand gripped the sofa's arm tightly, knuckles white. "That… that monster… I can't believe he could sink so low. But… you fought the demon, didn't you? And defeated it? The ritual… it's over?"

Nolan inclined his head slowly, expression unreadable, his voice steady. "Yes. I ended it. The ritual is finished. The demon won't harm anyone ever again. Its power is gone."

The King exhaled sharply, the tension leaving his body in a long, shuddering breath. "It's… it's a relief. Truly. But even so… Luthar's evil runs deep. We can't underestimate him, nor the cult. They've already caused enough chaos."

Nolan's gaze swept over the room, assessing every shadow, every hidden corner, as if even this quiet space might hide danger. "They've been weakened, but not destroyed. There are still those who hide in the dark, waiting for the right moment. You must stay vigilant. And the royal knights… make sure they are ready. Leave nothing to chance."

The King nodded solemnly, eyes meeting Nolan's with a mixture of gratitude, awe, and lingering worry. "You've done more than we could have imagined. You've saved not only my family, but this city… perhaps even the Empire itself."

Nolan's voice lowered, calm but unwavering. "I did what had to be done. That's all. The rest… is up to you."

Nolan stood up, straightening his posture. "And Celia and Linda…" He paused, glancing at them with a faint smile.

"Wait, wait before you go," the King interjected, leaning slightly forward from his sofa. "Before my guards take you to your rooms… are you not going to meet my daughters, the princesses?"

Nolan shook his head gently. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay, it's fine," the King said, waving his hand. "You don't need to rush. You've been through a lot already. Rest first if you want."

The Queen's voice cut through softly, warm but commanding. "Guardian, show our guests to their rooms. Please ensure they are comfortable."

The royal guardian bowed deeply, his cloak brushing the floor, before turning to lead the way. Nolan followed, the soft tap of their boots echoing against the polished floors of the palace. Celia and Linda flanked him quietly, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and awe, each taking in the vast halls, the banners, and the golden light spilling from the sconces on the walls.

"This isn't normal," Nolan muttered under his breath, eyes scanning the corridors with a careful, measured calm. "Even now, there's something… unusual in the air."

As they reached his room, the King spoke once more, his voice carrying over the polished stone. "When you reach your room, you'll find a reward waiting. One hundred million gold coins… all in a bag. It's for winning the tournament."

Nolan nodded slightly, his expression unreadable but appreciative. "I understand."

Lyra and Damian, walking just behind him, exchanged glances, their eyes sparkling with excitement. "Finally," Lyra whispered, "a bit of peace after everything that happened."

"Don't relax too much," Damian replied, a smirk on his face. "Knowing Nolan, something tells me the calm won't last long."

The royal guardian led them down a long hallway, tapestries fluttering slightly in the warm draft from the open windows. They passed by statues of past heroes, their stone eyes seemingly following the group as they moved. Each step Nolan took seemed to carry weight, as though even the palace itself recognized the battles he had endured.

Finally, they arrived at their rooms—each one a masterful display of royal craftsmanship.

"Here you are," the guardian announced, bowing once more. "Rest well, and may your stay be peaceful."

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