The ride to the castle was a silent, jarring contrast to the chaos of the cavern. Shuya sat in the back of an enchanted carriage, its interior lined with sound-dampening velvet, across from the Knight-Captain. Her helmet was off, revealing a face that was both stern and strikingly elegant, with sharp cheekbones and hair the color of aged silver pulled into a severe bun. Her name, she had stated without warmth, was Captain Lyra Valerius.
She hadn't shackled him. That, more than anything, unnerved him. It meant she was either supremely confident in her ability to control him, or she didn't truly see him as a criminal. Yet.
Outside the window, the ramshackle buildings of the outer city gave way to Valorhold's towering inner spires. Banners of silver and cobalt fluttered in a sun that suddenly felt… scrutinized. His sun.
"Your companions are being debriefed separately," Lyra said, her voice cutting through the silence. "Their testimony will be cross-referenced with yours. I suggest you be thorough and truthful."
Shuya met her gaze. "I have been nothing but."
"Have you?" She leaned forward slightly, her armored gloves resting on her knees. "A man appears from nowhere, unregistered, with a class so rare it hasn't been seen in a generation. He annihilates a goblin patrol without lifting a finger. He then ventures into a nest, subdues a Kuro-Okami—a creature that would require a full knight contingent to repel—through sheer aura pressure, and attracts the attention of both a high-level yokai and the Eclipsed Church. All within his first two days. You must understand how that strains credulity."
"I didn't ask for any of this," Shuya replied, his tone even. The calm he cultivated in battle was serving him well now in the face of her interrogation. "I was just… there."
"Just there," she repeated, a flicker of something—amusement? annoyance?—in her eyes. "With a 'Forbidden Sun' burning in your chest."
"What is that?" Shuya asked, finally giving voice to the question that had been burning in him since the hunter leader spoke the words. "What does that mean?"
Captain Lyra studied him for a long moment, as if deciding how much currency the truth held. "Legend speaks of an era before the Eternal Eclipse, when the world was bathed in the light of a primordial sun. It was an age of immense power, of growth, of… unchecked potential. The Church of the Eclipse teaches that this light was chaotic, heretical, a flaw in the cosmos that their god corrected. They believe any emulation of that ancient sun is an abomination."
She gestured vaguely toward the window. "The magic we use, the light crystals that illuminate our cities—it's all filtered, refined, safe light. What you exhibited in that cavern was raw. Unfiltered. It is, by their doctrine, forbidden."
Shuya absorbed this, his mind reeling. His ability wasn't just a cheat skill; it was a theological crisis. "And what does the Crown believe?"
"The Crown," Lyra said coolly, "believes in stability. The Eclipsed Church is a shadow that stretches across many kingdoms. They are powerful, patient, and relentless. Your very existence is a spark that could ignite a conflict we are not prepared to fight." She paused. "The prudent thing would be to hand you over to them. To preserve the peace."
A cold knot tightened in Shuya's stomach. He said nothing, merely holding her gaze. His aura, suppressed and weary, gave a faint, internal pulse. He would not beg. He would not flinch. The Iron Phoenix did not bow.
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Lyra's lips. "But His Majesty is not always prudent."
The carriage passed through a final, colossal gate and into the main keep. They did not head for a dungeon, but for a spacious study overlooking a training yard. The room was lined with books and maps, and a man in rich, but practical, robes stood by the window, watching knights spar below.
King Theron of Valorhold was younger than Shuya expected, perhaps in his late thirties, with a lean build and a face that looked like it was more accustomed to smiling than the grim expression he now wore. He turned as they entered.
"Captain. And this is the source of all the excitement?" His voice was calm, measured, but his eyes were like twin daggers, assessing every detail of Shuya in a single glance.
"Your Majesty," Lyra said with a sharp bow. "This is Shuya Matsumoto."
Shuya, unsure of the protocol, gave a slow, deep bow from the waist, the way he once had to his karate masters. It was a gesture of respect, not subservience.
The King's eyebrow twitched. "You stand in the presence of a king, accused of wielding a dangerous, heretical power, and you have the bearing of a visiting dignitary. Explain that."
Shuya straightened. "Where I come from, Your Majesty, we respect the office, but we bow to the man based on his character, not his title. I do not yet know your character. But I respect the peace you keep." It was a gamble, speaking so plainly, but his instinct told him this man would appreciate directness over groveling.
A long silence stretched out, broken only by the clatter of practice swords from the yard below. Then, King Theron chuckled. It was a dry, quiet sound. "Captain, he's either the most cunning spy ever sent to my court, or he's telling the truth."
"He subdued the Kuro-Okami with aura dominance alone, Sire," Lyra reported. "The Eclipsed Hunters were moments from taking him when we intervened. They called his power the 'Forbidden Sun.'"
The King's humor faded. He walked to his desk, picking up a smooth, dark stone that seemed to absorb the light. "The Church has been a thorn in my side for years. They preach submission to the Eclipse, weakening the resolve of my people. They hoard knowledge and power. Your arrival, Matsumoto, is a problem. But it is also… an opportunity."
He placed the stone on the desk. "This is a Void Stone. It absorbs and neutralizes active magic and aura. Touch it."
Shuya glanced at Lyra, who gave a slight nod. He stepped forward and placed his fingers on the stone.
Nothing happened.
No recoil. No warmth. No pull. The stone remained inert.
The King's eyes widened. "Fascinating. It doesn't recognize your power as magic. It is something else entirely. A state of being." He looked at Shuya with renewed intensity. "The Church wants you because you represent everything they fear. I am inclined to keep you for the very same reason."
He sat down, steepling his fingers. "Here is my offer. You will remain in Valorhold under the guardianship of Captain Valerius and her knights. You will train, you will learn to control this… Sun within you. And when the time is right, you will serve the Crown. In return, you will have our protection from the Church. You will have a purpose. You will have a life."
It wasn't a request. It was a elegantly phrased command.
Shuya looked out the window at the sparring knights, at the city stretching to the horizon. This was more than he could have ever dreamed of in his old life. A purpose. Protection. A chance to truly master this new power. But it came with chains, invisible ones. He would be a weapon, a symbol, a pawn in a larger game.
He thought of Rena, Boros, and Lia. He thought of Ronan and Seren, who had stood with him. He thought of the yokai girl, Yoru, and her warning. "You are something else."
He turned back to the King, his decision made. The calm dominance settled over him once more, not as a weapon, but as a cloak.
"I accept," Shuya said, his voice quiet but absolute. "But I am not a dog to be kept on a leash. I will train. I will learn. And I will fight for this city, because I choose to. Not because you command it."
Captain Lyra stiffened, but King Theron merely smiled, a real, genuine smile this time.
"Good," the King said. "A weapon with a will of its own is far more dangerous than a simple tool. And far more interesting."
Just then, a frantic knock came at the door. A young page, pale and breathless, burst in.
"Your Majesty! Captain! Forgive the interruption, but there's been an… incident at the guild."
Lyra was instantly alert. "What kind of incident?"
"The yokai," the page stammered, his eyes wide with fear. "The one from the nest. She's there. She just… walked in. She's sitting at the bar, and she asked for… for him." The boy's finger trembled as he pointed at Shuya.
"She asked for the 'Sun-Bearer.' She says she has a message. And she says she'll wait."
The King's smile vanished. Lyra's hand went to the hilt of her sword.
Shuya simply closed his eyes for a second, feeling the warm, steady pulse within him. His new life was already pulling him in directions he couldn't have imagined.
He opened his eyes, a faint, determined light shining within them.
"Then I suppose I shouldn't keep her waiting."