The imperial courtyard was covered with golden banners and fresh tapestries, trying to hide the scars of war.
It was the Festival of Survivors, created by the new Emperor Deodoro — the same one who trembled every time he saw Lukas.
"I believe this is the least I can do to honor you," Deodoro had said, his voice faltering. "Without the Demon of Blood and the Queen of the Sword, I… I would not be alive."
Lukas ignored the flattery.
He was far too tired for speeches. Adriele as well.
And yet, the two of them stood side by side before the cheering crowd.
"It’s them…", whispered nobles and soldiers. "The siblings who avenged Sorriso… who crushed the Northern Kingdoms…".
"The boy once called a failure," murmured an elderly woman, wiping her eyes, "and today… he’s feared more than any general."
Lukas kept his chin raised, but inside he felt the same loneliness as always.
The throne was empty. Kyros was not there to see him.
Valquíria and Luiz were also in the courtyard, watching from a distance.
"Impressive, isn’t it?" Valquíria said with a smirk. "Our Lukinhas has become a myth. But look at that funeral face of his… he doesn’t even look like the one who saved the Empire."
Luiz scratched his chin, bored.
"I just wish he’d get himself a woman already. Maybe then he’d stop walking around like a bitter widow."
"He’s going to hear you and beat the crap out of you," Valquíria laughed.
Lukas breathed deeply, trying to keep his composure.
But it was hard.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
With every clap, every voice shouting his name, he could only think… it wasn’t enough.
The Disasters still remained. That night still lingered. The Night of Despair.
Adriele glanced at him and gripped his arm.
"Don’t pretend this means nothing," she whispered, just for him. "You saved millions of people. You may hate this title… but we both know: you’re no longer that boy who only cried and begged forgiveness."
"I’d rather still be that boy," Lukas confessed. "At least… father was alive."
She didn’t answer. She just squeezed his hand.
And together they faced the sea of applause.
That was when something changed.
When everything seemed about to end, a figure stepped forward through the crowd.
A black cloak. A lowered hood. Steps with no hesitation.
The trumpets stopped.
The guards lowered their spears, tense.
Even Luiz uncrossed his arms.
"What…?" he muttered.
The figure stopped a few meters from Lukas and lifted the hood.
White hair like snow. Amethyst eyes that gleamed like blades.
Morgana.
For an instant, no one moved.
Then she smiled — a smile that clashed with that deadly calm.
"So this is the famous Demon of Blood," she said, her voice sweet as poison. "It’s a pleasure to finally meet you… Lukas Fernandes."
The name fell like a blade over the courtyard.
The guards backed away, unsure what to do.
She took one step closer, ignoring the spears pointed at her.
"Relax. I didn’t come to kill anyone… not yet. I only wanted to see, up close, the man who made my heart beat… even if I’m not sure I still have one."
Lukas felt his neck go cold.
"…Who the hell are you?"
Morgana tilted her head, smiling.
"Someone who will follow your steps. You can run, you can hate me… but one day you’ll accept I’m part of your destiny."
"And if I don’t accept?" he growled.
"Then…" She pulled the hood back up, her eyes flashing. "…I’ll just have to convince you, won’t I?"
She turned without another word, walking calmly down the corridor of soldiers who dared not stop her.
The silence that followed seemed to choke the entire courtyard.
Valquíria was the first to speak, her voice dry with disbelief:
"…You’re really going to ignore this, Lukinhas? That woman just declared war and marriage at the same time."
Luiz sighed, shaking his head.
"Yeah. Definitely, this kid has some cursed talent for attracting trouble."
And so, on the day the entire Empire celebrated him as a savior…
Lukas discovered that some burdens never end.
And that the past — and the monsters it forges — always find a way back.
End of Chapter 13
