Six months had passed since Van secured complete control over the kingdoms of Gold and Peace.
The rebellions had faded, the cities had calmed… and Van knew the time had come to declare what no one had dared say before.
At the border between the two realms, a grand stage had been built — high and solemn, bearing two intertwined banners:
– the black and gold of Van Raigor,
– and the official flags of Gold and Peace.
Delegations from across the West gathered in silence.
Soldiers stood in perfect formation, waiting.
Then Van ascended the platform — cloaked in his royal black, sword resting at his side — and spoke with unwavering resolve:
> "I am Van Raigor, heir of Valdera, and commander of the realms of flame and shadow.
From this day forth… I declare myself Emperor of the West — the unity of Gold and Peace."
The crowd erupted — horns blared, voices rose.
Then Van raised his left hand and gestured to Leyla, who stood beside him:
> "Leyla, Princess of Gold, shall reign in my name over the Kingdom of Gold —
as High Regent of the Empire."
He turned to Nyrene, quiet in her blue-white gown:
> "And Nyrene, Queen of Peace… shall rule her people freely beneath my banner,
carrying the honor and heart of the West."
Both women bowed — not in submission, but in recognition.
And thus… the Western Empire was born.
---
Days later, Van rode to the City of Gold — the heart of his reign — to face a moment unlike any battle he had ever fought.
At the palace gates, Kaiden awaited him. He said nothing, only bowed slightly and murmured:
> "The queen is safe… and the child awaits his name."
Van walked through the halls with slow, steady steps.
The heart that never trembled in war now beat with unfamiliar weight.
He entered Leyla's chamber.
She lay resting — tired, but smiling.
And beside her, in a small cradle of dark wood and gold,
slept a newborn boy…
eyes wide, like he carried in them the past and a promise.
Van stepped forward, lifted the child in his arms, and whispered:
> "Welcome… prince of new blood."
He turned to Leyla and said:
> "His name… will be Raine."
She whispered, her voice soft:
> "Raine Raigor… the true heir to the throne."
That night, in the imperial records, it was written:
> "On the twenty-fifth day of the Empire's reign,
Raine was born —
the first heir of Van Raigor,
First Emperor of the West."
And in the quiet of the palace — between candlelight and wind beating against the windows —
Van understood:
He no longer fought for a crown…
He now fought for a future that bore his name.