"Thank you, Your Majesty," Nolan replied. "But I'll handle it myself. It's my kingdom now, and I intend to build it with my own hands."

The Queen smiled kindly. "Then I wish you luck, Nolan. May your new kingdom prosper."

Nolan bowed again. "I appreciate it."

The morning sun bathed the castle courtyard in golden light. The soft rustle of leaves and the distant chatter of the city below mixed with the occasional clink of armor as royal guards adjusted their positions.

The King stepped forward, his voice calm but curious. "So tell me, before your departure, is there anything you want to ask for?"

Nolan's gaze swept across the courtyard, thoughtful for a moment. Then he spoke. "Oh yes… there is. Where is that kid named Israel? Is he still in the other part of the mansion, where the participants usually stay?"

The King nodded, recalling the arrangements. "Even if he was disqualified, you are correct. Some participants, who had nowhere else to go, were allowed to stay temporarily. But no one mentioned him specifically…"

Nolan's expression hardened with quiet determination. "Oh yes… that young boy. He's about the age of fourteen or fifteen, correct?"

"Yes," the King confirmed, his voice steady. "He is still there. Go ahead. You have permission to meet him."

"Good," Nolan said simply. "Do I have to go meet him right now?"

"It's not a problem," the King replied with a small smile. "There's no rush, but he will be glad to see you."

Nolan nodded, turning slightly to glance at the Queen. "Was there anything else you wanted to ask for?"

The King shook his head, smiling. "No. I think that's enough."

Nolan returned the gesture with a nod, then turned toward the castle gates. The Queen's eyes were soft, filled with warmth as she watched him go. Both she and the King shared a look, a quiet understanding passing between them.

Outside, Celia, Linda, Lyra, and Damien waited patiently. The wind gently ruffled their hair as they watched Nolan adjust the heavy bag of gold coins slung over his shoulder.

"Oh, this bag of gold coins…" Celia said, reaching toward it.

"Just hold it for me," Nolan replied calmly. "I'll be back soon."

The group began moving toward the castle's participant quarters. Inside, a maid hurried along the corridor, her steps echoing softly.

Nolan's gaze fell upon her. "Excuse me," he said, his tone polite but commanding. "Please, go call Israel."

The maid bowed and scurried off to carry out his request. Nolan turned slightly, his expression softening as the footsteps of someone approaching echoed down the hallway.

There he was, Israel, stepping forward cautiously, curiosity in his eyes. "Is it you? You called for me?"

"Yes," Nolan said simply, his voice calm.

"What is it? Do you… have a problem with me?" Israel asked nervously, shuffling slightly.

"No, no, no. I don't want to fight you," Nolan replied. "I remember… you were defeated in the tournament. And I remember you mentioned your village, Azulejo, and the struggles there."

Israel's gaze widened slightly. "You… remembered that?"

"I did," Nolan said, his tone gentle but firm. "And I also remembered that I spoke by mistake last time. I'm not here to mock you."

Israel blinked, uncertain. "Then… why are you here?"

Nolan smiled faintly, reaching into the bag he carried. He stretched a small pouch toward Israel. "I'm here to talk, and… to give you this."

Israel's hands trembled as he collected the pouch, slowly opening it. His eyes widened so much they nearly sparkled.

"You… you're pranking me?" he whispered, incredulous.

"No," Nolan said softly, but firmly. "I'm not. You know I won the tournament, right? You lost, but… you did well. You're still very young, and your potential is immense."

Israel swallowed hard, awe written all over his face. He looked at the coins again, then back at Nolan. "How… how old is your daughter?"

Nolan's brow arched, curious.

"This… this is about two million gold coins," Israel stammered, disbelief and gratitude mixed in his voice.

"Two million gold coins?" Israel repeated, his knees bending as he fell to the ground in a deep bow. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! This… this will save my village!"

His voice broke with emotion. "The poverty, the sickness, the suffering… this money will help everyone. Food, medicine… everything! You… you've saved us!"

Nolan reached forward, placing a hand lightly on Israel's shoulder. "Hey, stand up. There's no need for all this," he said gently. "I only wanted to help. Use it wisely. That's all."

Israel's face shone with tears, the weight of hope and relief mixing with the awe of seeing someone so powerful care for him personally. Slowly, he rose to his feet, the pouch of coins clutched tightly against his chest.

"You… you are incredible," Israel whispered, his voice trembling. "I will never forget this… ever."

Nolan gave a small nod, his calm smile steady. "Then go. Make sure you help your village, and take care of the people who are counting on you."

"I promise. I will. Every single penny… every single coin," Israel said, voice trembling with emotion. "I'll use it all. It's all for the village… for everyone."

Nolan smiled faintly, the corner of his lips tilting upward. "Good," he said, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of assurance. "I knew you'd do the right thing."

Israel's eyes shimmered with hope and gratitude. "Thank you… truly. I won't forget this. Ever."

Nolan nodded, stepping back slightly. "It looks like I'll be taking my leave now." His gaze swept over the boy once more, lingering with quiet approval.

"Sir!" Israel called out, panic and reverence mixing in his voice as he ran a few steps after Nolan.

Nolan turned slightly, meeting Israel's eyes.

"Thank you… once again," Israel said, bowing deeply. The bag of coins clutched in his hands seemed almost too small to contain the hope it represented.

"You're welcome," Nolan said softly, almost a whisper, but it carried a calm weight, the kind that made one feel protected even in the midst of uncertainty.

With that, Nolan turned, walking down the marble corridor toward where Celia, Linda, and Lyra were waiting. His footsteps echoed quietly, but each step seemed to carry a sense of purpose and quiet authority.

"Ah… I'm back," Nolan announced casually, as if nothing had happened.

"Master, where did you go?" Celia asked, a hint of curiosity laced with concern in her voice.

"Well," Nolan began, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth, "I went to meet that little kid. I gave him something he truly needed. Now… I think it's time we go to Sindra."

"Okay, bye, Master," Celia said, a small smile breaking across her face.

Lyra tilted her head, eyes glowing faintly with curiosity. "Should I open a portal for us? We could be there in a split second."

Nolan shook his head, his expression serious. "No, not here. We have to leave from this castle… quietly. When no one is watching."

A faint breeze swept through the corridor as if emphasizing his words. The light from the early morning sun spilled in through the tall windows, glinting off the polished floor, highlighting the quiet tension in the air.

Linda's brow furrowed slightly. "Why can't we just portal there? It would be safer, faster."

"Because," Nolan said slowly, his tone low and deliberate, "we can't let anyone know where we're going yet. Not until we arrive. Sindra is… complicated. And some people might be waiting to interfere."

Lyra's lips pressed together in thought. "I see… so stealth first. Understood."

Celia's gaze softened as she looked at Nolan. "Master… you're always thinking ahead. Even when it's quiet, even when it seems like nothing is happening… you're always planning."

Nolan smiled faintly, just a hint, a shadow of warmth amid the calm authority he carried. "That's the only way to survive… the only way to protect what matters. Come on, let's move."

The four of them moved toward the main gates, their footsteps quiet, almost synchronized, like a silent rhythm of impending motion. Birds chirped faintly outside, unaware of the powerful figure leaving the castle, unaware that the fate of villages, kingdoms, and lives was quietly being guided by one man who carried the weight of it all on his shoulders.

As the gates opened, Nolan glanced back one last time at the castle that had witnessed chaos, heroics, and salvation. His eyes lingered on the walls, the towers, the courtyards before shifting forward. Sindra awaited.

As they walked out of the grand castle gate, the warm morning sun cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Birds chirped lazily, and the gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers from the palace gardens. Nolan, Celia, Linda, Lyra, and Damien walked in quiet companionship, their footsteps echoing softly. It took about twenty minutes of steady walking before the familiar gates of Cynthia's home appeared on the horizon.

Cynthia was there, tending to her laundry.

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