[POV Liselotte]

  The days that followed the ceremony at the guild passed with a strange slowness, as if time itself were hesitating to move forward.

  There were no attacks. No emergencies. No immediate arms. And yet, I couldn’t rex. Every morning I woke with the feeling that something was about to change irreversibly, like a crack that had already opened beneath our feet and was only waiting for the exact moment to finally shatter the ground.

  Leah wasn’t calm either.

  I often saw her sitting by the window for long stretches of time, her gaze lost over the city of Whirikal, watching people come and go—people who didn’t know, who couldn’t know, that their fate was beginning to intertwine with hers. Sometimes she looked serene, almost at peace. Other times, her expression grew distant, as if the word family had become something too rge for her to hold on her own.

  Chloé, meanwhile, was restless in a different way.

  Since adopting her semi-human form, her behavior had changed subtly but constantly. She was still protective, still moved with the sharp attentiveness of a wolf, but now there was something more to her: a deeper awareness. Her ears reacted to every sound, her tail betrayed her emotions even when she tried to hide them, and her eyes—blue and bright—watched the world with a mix of curiosity and caution.

  Three days passed like that.

  Until the official summons arrived.

  "Today," Leah said softly that morning, holding the document with steady hands. "Today they’ll give it to us officially."

  I nodded.

  I didn’t smile.

  Not because I wasn’t happy, but because the weight of that moment was too great to reduce it to a simple smile.

  We left together for Whirikal’s central pza.

  The heart of the capital.

  The pce where important announcements were made, where celebrations, condemnations… and recognitions that marked history took pce.

  As we walked, I noticed the city was more crowded than usual. Merchants had temporarily left their stalls. Artisans leaned out from doors and windows. Soldiers kept order, but even they seemed expectant.

  "There are too many people," Chloé murmured.

  "Ronan wants this to be seen," I replied. "By everyone."

  Not just adventurers.

  By the kingdom.

  And far from there, in a hall covered in polished marble and ancient tapestries, the king of Whirikal watched the men gathered before him.

  Dukes. Counts. Representatives of old houses, dressed in luxurious fabrics, discreet but costly jewelry, and calcuting gazes. Some drank wine with apparent calm. Others spoke in low voices.

  "This is unnecessary," said one of them, a duke with a carefully groomed beard. "Exposing that result before civilians will only provoke rumors."

  "The rumors already exist," another replied coldly. "What’s being discussed now is how to control them."

  The king did not speak immediately.

  His gaze remained fixed on the table.

  "Ronan is pying a dangerous card," continued a count. "If the girl turns out to be—"

  "It’s not an if," the king finally interrupted. His voice was deep, tired. "The artifact does not lie."

  Silence spread.

  "What concerns us," the king added, "is what will happen when her name is spoken in public."

  Back in the pza, Ronan was already there.

  Standing on an elevated ptform, accompanied by several high-ranking adventurers, guild mages, and soldiers maintaining a clear perimeter. When he saw us approach, he gave a slight nod.

  "It’s time," he said when we stood before him.

  The pza was full.

  Not only adventurers.

  Civilians. Families. Elderly people. Children sitting on others’ shoulders to see better.

  The murmur was constant, expectant.

  I felt a knot form in my stomach.

  Leah took a deep breath beside me.

  Chloé gently squeezed my fingers with hers, an almost imperceptible gesture, but one full of meaning.

  Ronan raised his hand.

  Silence fell like an absolute command.

  "Citizens of Whirikal," he began, his voice amplified by magic. "Adventurers. Soldiers. Today we do not gather to celebrate a simple victory."

  He paused.

  "Over the past years, the demonic invasion has taken too much from us. Cities. Lives. And also something quieter: our high-ranking adventurers."

  Some nodded.

  Others lowered their gaze.

  "Rank A, a symbol of strength and experience, has become scarce. Too scarce for the times we face."

  I felt everyone’s attention sharpen even further.

  "But today," he continued, "that number increases."

  The murmur returned, restrained.

  "Today, the Adventurers’ Guild of Whirikal recognizes three new Rank A adventurers."

  My heart lurched violently.

  "Step forward."

  We moved.

  Each step felt heavy.

  Not with fear.

  With awareness.

  I felt the weight of every gaze, every expectation, every story beginning to form around us.

  "Lisellote," Ronan said.

  "Leah."

  "Chloé."

  We stopped before the crowd.

  I saw faces filled with emotion.

  Others with disbelief.

  Some clearly suspicious.

  "These adventurers took part in the containment of a critical-level demonic threat," Ronan continued. "And survived."

  A pause.

  "That alone would already be enough."

  He gestured toward the artifact one of the mages pced before us.

  It was different from the previous one.

  More compact.

  More… final.

  "This artifact will register their identity and magical power onto a special iron card. An official document of the guild."

  I went first.

  I stepped forward.

  I pced my hand on the artifact.

  I felt the metallic cold travel up my arm, mixed with the controlled flow of my mana. It wasn’t painful, but it was deep, as if someone were reading every corner of my existence.

  The iron began to glow.

  "Name," announced the mage.

  I swallowed.

  "Liselotte," I answered.

  "Family name."

  I hesitated for barely a second.

  And then I knew.

  "Celium."

  A murmur rippled through the pza as the name was slowly engraved.

  I felt a sharp sensation in my chest.

  Not sadness.

  Affirmation.

  That name was not only from a past life.

  It was mine.

  The card solidified.

  Heavy.

  Real.

  Then it was Chloé’s turn.

  She stepped forward with steady confidence.

  When she pced her hand down, the artifact reacted differently. The runes flickered. The shadows shifted slightly.

  "Name," said the mage, visibly tense.

  "Chloé."

  "Family name."

  Chloé turned her head toward me for a second.

  And smiled.

  "Celium."

  I felt something inside me settle into pce.

  We weren’t just companions.

  We were family.

  Finally, Leah stepped forward.

  The air changed.

  Everyone felt it.

  When her hand touched the artifact, it reacted with an intensity that made one of the mages step back. The light was clear. Firm. Authoritative.

  "Name," the mage said, his voice trembling.

  "Leah."

  "Family name."

  The silence was absolute.

  The iron began engraving on its own.

  Letter by letter.

  And when the name fully formed, the entire pza saw it.

  Leah Alba Whirikal.

  The world held its breath.

  I felt my heart stop.

  Leah didn’t move.

  Didn’t speak.

  But her eyes filled with an emotion so deep it hurt to look at her.

  That name wasn’t just recognition.

  It was truth.

  One that could no longer be denied.

  And in that instant, I knew that no matter what happened next…

  Nothing would ever be the same again.