Eden Hart.
The Zenith of the Seventh Academy in Year 772.
She had a platinum hair as white as a fresh, newly fallen snow, and eyes that were like an endless, untamed ocean.
She was also the Hart to enter the academy at only sixteen years old, and the only person in Seventh Continent after a century to slay a dragon at seventeen.
Now, she sat atop a mountain of corpses.
Her hair, once pure white, now dripped red. Not a single strand remained untouched.
"Hey, I told you not to kill that one."
Golden hair.
Golden eyes.
A tone laced with irritation.
Ciae Arventis.
Eden exhaled, brushing damp strands from her face, smearing more blood across her cheek. Then, finally, she spoke.
"Then… tell them to stop dying so easily."
She stood up.
"...In the afterlife."
The moment the words left her lips, Eden vanished.
By the time she reappeared, her blade was already at Ciae's throat—a breath away from slicing through skin.
Ciae clicked his tongue, unbothered. His golden hair swayed as he sighed.
"...I've already been there."
The air shifted.
Something was different.
His voice and his presence were no longer the same as earlier. His golden eyes darkened, and within his pupils, a sigil took form.
A crown.
With nothing but a finger, he stopped Eden's sword.
His lips curled up into a grin.
"Didn't I tell you to stop trying to kill me? …My host?"
It wasn't Ciae earlier anymore.
The Crowned Sovereign had awakened, drowning out Kyle Hudas, the reader.
And then he vanished, only to reappear atop the corpses and looked down at Eden with those golden eyes.
"If I had full control of this body…"
He clutched his chest, as if he was gripping his own heart.
"...You'd already be dead."
Eden said nothing.
Then, the sigil faded. The weight of his presence vanished.
Kyle was back.
But the silence between them remained.
Eden closed her eyes as a memory surfaced. Faint. But vivid.
Seven was only seven years old then.
Seven said those words with no hidden motives nor formalities.
It was the first time someone had wished her a happy birthday simply because they wanted to.
She remembered the warmth in his voice and the way his eyes shone. Of course, he was just a child.
That was what made it genuine.
Children never lie about things.
Now, tightening her grip on the sword, she looked up at Kyle. The current Ciae.
"You said Seven's still alive, right?"
"Yeah."
Kyle shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal.
"Hundred percent. He should be alive and well right now…"
Then, with a smirk, he added,
"...And wishing you a happy birthday, I guess?"
"...!!"
Slowly, Eden lowered her sword. Shifting her gaze up to the sky, she murmured something under her breath.
…Though only one word was clear.
"Seven..."
***
'System. Date.'
[Date: 1st Day of the First Season, Year 776.]
'It's new year, huh…?'
Seven looked around the plaza.
'...And Eden's birthday.'
Around him were just citizens enjoying the new year festival, playing carnival games beside the sidewalk and selling special-made products.
Not even one he had heard about the fall of the Dukedom today.
Step.
At first, Seven ignored the offers. But as he walked past the stall that offered 'Sevyaki' or whatever it was called, he halted his steps.
'Sevyaki? As in 'taiyaki'.'
It was a Japanese fish-shaped cake he usually reads in manga and watched in anime. But since he hadn't even left his room, let alone visited Japan, the temptation hit him.
Step.
But instead of a fish, the shape was more like number seven.
"..."
Strange.
How come he hasn't read this in the novel? In fact, there wasn't even a single mention about this.
Still…
"One Sevtal worth, please."
Seven froze.
Staring at flavors listed on the poster pinned on the wall, he squinted his eyes.
'Matsa-a - a herbal filling pounded from Selverin leaves.'
'Tsoko - a flavorful filling from pounded kocoa seeds.'
'Kream - a simple ice cream filling.'
'Sev-bean paste - a filling made from bean paste.'
Seven was intently focused on the list before him, that before he knew it, a line of customers piled up behind him.
The seller, noticing Seven's difficulty of choosing, suggested an option.
"...Okay. Sure."
He paid one Sevtal, and he got all four flavors.
Step.
Now, as he walked, other sellers began to copy the yaki seller's approach.
Seven hurried his footsteps, irritated. After a minute, he reached a less crowded area. He panted, leaning against a wall.
'Sevenfold world truly lives up to its name.'
But as he tried to open the paper wrap and eat the Sevyaki inside, another merchant's voice made him frown.
Seven looked up above, took a deep breath, and…
"Fudgeeeee!!"
***
In the eastern side of the Kingdom, Lythian was busy doing his own thing.
"That's all."
A man covered in a tattered cloak spoke in a hushed, raspy tone like someone who had spent too much time breathing in smoke.
Lythian, leaning against a wooden post, flicked his fingers and pushed five Sevtals across the rough, uneven table.
Clink.
Coins clinked softly against the worn surface as their dull silver sheen barely caught the candlelight of the dimly-lit cafe.
The man reached forward, but Lythian's foot tapped against the table leg, halting him.
"Let me see it first."
Pause.
The man tilted his head slightly, the shadows from his hood obscuring his features. He then pulled out a small, wrapped bundle from the pocket of his cloak.
"Fucker. You better not be wasting my time."
Lythian's eyes narrowed, and the man chuckled.
"If I were, I'd be dead before I even stepped in here."
With a flick of his wrist, he unwrapped the bundle, revealing a vial no larger than Lythian's finger.
The liquid inside was a dark, murky crimson, swirling sluggishly.
"And you're sure?"
"Freshly acquired."
Lythian picked up the vial and rolled it between his fingers.
"Who else got their hands on this?"
"Only the ones who paid the price."
Lythian let the words hang in the air before leaning back, his fingers tapping against the hilt of the concealed dagger at his waist.
"If I find out you lied to me—"
"Even if I did, you wouldn't get the chance."
It was a threat disguised in a whisper that made Lythian smirk.
"Pleasure doing business."
He finally let go of his foot against the table, allowing the man to collect his payment.
The man stood, tucking the coins away, then gave a small nod before making his way to the exit.
Slowly, he opened the vial and drank the liquid inside.
Gulp.
"Fuck…"
Lythian grinned.
"Tastes like shit."