"Ridiculous!"
Dominic O'Neill slammed his fist onto the table, rising to his feet with an energy that seemed to ignite the air around him. Normally, a bright, warm smile graced his youthful face; he rarely displayed such fury. But this was no ordinary moment, as across the table stood none other than the Crusader King, Nathaniel Heaven.
The recent victory over the tyrant's forces had brought smiles to many, and the world, once shackled by oppression, now basked in the glow of newfound freedom. Though the war had been hard-fought and marred by countless losses, peace, freedom, and hope now reigned over the encampment. Yet, the fear of the tyrant lingered, his memory almost forbidden, too dark to resurface in this newfound light.
"Luca Azoria and Liu Yu found ways to resolve similar issues—methods far more ethical and efficient than this. Why can't we learn from them instead of stooping to such a shameful plan?" Dominic's voice cut through the air, heavy with conviction.
Nathaniel sighed, his own discomfort with the plan evident in his furrowed brow. He'd found no alternatives, though. Without a decisive course of action, his kingdom would soon be outpaced by his comrades. The Three Champions had declared a peace treaty between their realms, but Nathaniel knew they wouldn't live forever. After they die, who is there to keep the promise? Without strength, his kingdom was destined to fall.
"Dominic, calm down. Our circumstances are different, and I don't believe oppression is the solution either," Nathaniel said, his tone measured yet weary. "But peace, true peace, requires sacrifice. It's about understanding what's right and what's wrong. And we both know that peace, however it's achieved, is always right. I'm doing this for the kingdom, for our people, for the realm's lasting harmony."
Dominic laughed, a bitter sound devoid of mirth. "You think this is right?" His voice climbed, thick with scorn. "Oppression isn't the answer, and yet you're willing to alter EVERYONE's memories to fabricate a history that serves your purpose?"
Nathaniel's eyes snapped up, his aura intensifying, forcing Dominic back into his seat. "A false history that brings happiness is better than a painful truth that spreads despair," Nathaniel retorted, his voice now as hard as steel. "Look outside! See the fear, the anxiety on every face, hidden beneath smiles that barely hold. You believe this can forge a prosperous kingdom, one where every citizen can smile freely? Face the reality! If the truth gets exposed in the future, let the people release their wrath and blame on me! I would bear it gladly. That's the burden of a king, Dominic!"
Nathaniel's chest heaved as he spoke, a deep weariness settling into his eyes. Even in his final duel with Tyrant Kolgwyn, he hadn't appeared so drained, so enraged.
"A leader chooses the path that is right, while a ruler chooses what is good for the people," Nathaniel continued, his voice now a low, measured rumble. "But a king, Dominic, chooses the path that may be wrong, but brings benefits for the people."
Noticing Nathaniel's growing anger, Dominic chose not to push further. His respect and trust in Nathaniel remained intact, even now. Still, he couldn't help but voice his concern.
"I finally understand why people are still afraid. Maybe they're right to think Kolgwyn is alive somewhere," Dominic muttered. "Nathaniel, you used to value justice above all else. I remember how you treated Dharma, Antonio, and Krystal. Even though they were friendly and helpful, you kept them at arm's length because you knew something was wrong."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "And you were right. Antonio betrayed us, proving that your sense of justice was well-founded. Wrong will always stay wrong, no matter the immediate benefits. Keeping them close might have seemed useful at first, but making choices that compromise justice always has consequences."
Dominic took a breath, his tone growing more intense. "Changing people's memories might look like the right choice for the realm. Sure, it seems like it could bring peace and harmony, but how long will it last? If you let things remain as they are, the kingdom might struggle, maybe even collapse. But forcefully altering everyone's memories? The moment this secret comes to light, the kingdom is guaranteed to fall."
Nathaniel absorbed Dominic's words in silence, visibly battling his anger and sorrow. He was about to respond when someone suddenly burst into the room. It was a young woman with sleek, purple hair. Despite her youth, there was a regal pride in her expression, though her eyes held a hint of worry.
Dominic turned to see her, taken aback. "Krystal, why are you here?" He wasn't sure how much she had overheard.
"Mister O'Neill, Mister Heaven," Krystal panted, clearly having run to reach them. "I have a request."
Nathaniel looked up, a trace of coldness in his gaze as he regarded Krystal Fritz. She didn't seem to notice, though, and stood her ground.
"Actually, it's more of a trade," she said slowly, catching her breath. "I can bring someone here to speak with you—if you agree to my terms."
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed. "Who, and what terms?"
"Shun, Head of Starflame," she replied, with a faint smile. The Crusader King's composure slipped, revealing a flicker of surprise—perhaps even fear. Encouraged by his reaction, Krystal continued confidently, "Along with his loyalty and secrets."
She hesitated, then added, "My request is that the Ancient Landel Academy be preserved as an institution under your kingdom. And I want to be appointed as its principal."
Dominic's confusion deepened. He had never heard of this Shun, but it was clear from Nathaniel's reaction that this person was of significance. Krystal's request sounded absurd; he couldn't believe the king would allow it.
Yet, Nathaniel nodded almost immediately. He knew the true value of this trade. He alone understood what Shun had done and what he was capable of. For that kind of loyalty, he would give up the entire kingdom—an academy was a small price to pay.
"Not only will you be made principal of Landel," Nathaniel smirked, "I will grant you a fresh start. If what you say is true, then I have no qualms about stirring things up a bit more."
"If you can bring me Shun's loyalty, I'll alter everyone's memories to reshape your history. No longer will you be seen as a leftover from the Tyrant's forces, but rather as a hero of the war."
Dominic nearly gasped. This wasn't just a wrong decision; it didn't even serve the people's interests. Deep down, he knew the Nathaniel he once knew would never have agreed to such madness. But his curiosity—and fear—about this man called Shun overshadowed his anger at the king.
Krystal smiled earnestly. "Thank you, Sir. By tomorrow, Shun will stand here before you, with news as remarkable as the victory itself."
Dominic could no longer contain his confusion. "Who is Shun?" he demanded.
Nathaniel met his gaze, eyes serious and filled with resolve, "The one who can save the world."
"Our only hope."
...
Dominic snapped back to the present, shaking off the weight of memories. He drained the last of his wine and rose, swaying unsteadily. Despite his inebriation, his thoughts remained sharp. He couldn't help but find it ironic—these names resurfacing now, like ghosts of a forgotten past.
Krystal Fritz. Antonio Valdis. And Shun.
Dominic knew the Shun he was about to face wasn't the same as the one in Nathaniel's past, but the coincidence was unsettling. Shun was hardly a common name, and the boy was bound to be connected to that legendary figure somehow.
"Just a coincidence, must be..." he muttered, though he wasn't convinced.