'This is nice,'
he thought to himself as he lay on the even floor next to his bed.
He stared at the ceiling, feeling a breath of relief.
I kept my word. I made sure they all came back alive to their family.
He was unexpectedly happy—and proud.
So much so, he could've patted himself on the head.
For once, he finally felt calm.
He didn't have to worry about Canlot anymore.
Now that they'd learned enough, the others would take care of it.
A massive weight had lifted off his chest.
He could finally focus on the next task.
He closed his eyes.
Tomorrow, they would be rewarded for surviving.
Everyone would be there.
Even the parents of those who didn't make it.
The thought twisted in his chest.
He felt a slight unease.
He didn't know what to tell Ray's parents—or the others.
What was he supposed to say?
"I killed your son because he was being a bad boy and murdered his own teammate?"
He doubted they'd believe him.
His eyes were still shut, but he couldn't sleep.
Too many thoughts popped into his mind, circling endlessly.
He snapped his eyes open.
"Well… I guess I can talk to the Headmaster. Maybe he can help."
He sat up and quietly left the room before Elizabeth noticed.
She was still sleeping on the bed.
The hallway was semi-dark.
Only a few lights glowed in the distance. The halls felt bigger than he remembered. He stayed close to the walls, moving quietly in the dim light. He made sure that no one spotted him while moving.
After a few turns, he was standing in front of the Headmaster's office.
He could see light leaking out from under the door, just enough for him to tell if someone was inside.
"Guess he's still up."
Just as he was about to knock—
"Come on in."
It wasn't a voice spoken aloud.
It echoed inside his mind.
He opened the door.
There he was. Calm as always.
Sylas walked toward him.
"Why are you up so late?" the Headmaster muttered without glancing up, still writing something on the paper in front of him. He was focused—like that paper held someone's life in its lines.
Sylas wasn't sure where to begin.
The man sitting in front of him felt different.
His presence was calm, welcoming, soft.
And yet, Sylas struggled to speak.
He inhaled.
Slow.
Heavy.
Like a man about to cross a line he couldn't return from.
"I killed Ray."
The air shifted.
The man slowly raised his eyes from the page.
Their gazes met.
The room turned red.
Sylas's vision blurred.
The man stood up and began walking toward him.
"Am I going to be killed?"
His lungs stopped.
He forgot how to breathe.
"Why?"
The Headmaster towered over him.
His expression soured—not with rage, but irritation.
As if Sylas had just dumped another problem on his desk that he didn't want to deal with.
"He killed…"
Sylas couldn't get the words out.
The pressure was suffocating.
He hadn't felt anything this intense since Lilith.
"This guy's a monster."
"He killed the others."
He forced the words out.
The pressure instantly vanished.
Sylas grabbed his chest, sucking in breath like a drowning man.
"You were trying to kill me, old man?"
Still panting.
"Child… what you did could cause a war between two countries."
The man returned to his seat.
"Come. Sit."
Then Sylas explained everything that happened.
"At least you managed to close the door," the Headmaster said, some relief in his voice.
"Let's hope it doesn't open again."
"It won't," Sylas muttered.
He sat up straighter.
"I made sure to seal the gate."
The Headmaster stared at him.
Then his eyes widened in horror.
"What do you mean you sealed it?" he asked, trying to make sure he hadn't misheard.
"That's something I wanted to talk to you about."
He paused.
"Everything we talk about here—I need you to keep it secret."
He leaned forward.
"I also want full protection for the people who came back alive."
His tone shifted.
No longer a student's request—
A king's demand.
The Headmaster could tell it was a bluff—
But an impressive one.
He leaned forward.
"Okay. We have a deal."
Sylas materialized Excalibur and set it on the table.
"With this."
Then he told him everything.
Everything he knew about Excalibur—
And how it was the key to opening the Veil.
The Headmaster reached for the sword.
"So anyone could use it?"
He gripped the hilt and tried to lift it—
But it didn't budge.
Sylas shook his head.
"No one can lift or wield it but me."
He grabbed it and unsheathed it, letting the blade gleam.
"You're one of the strongest people I've met—after the Emperor."
He paused.
"I need time to prepare.
So I'm asking for your support and protection."
They talked for a while—Sylas telling him their whole journey.
He hadn't planned to say that much.
But the man reminded him too much of Merlin.
He returned to his room quietly—
And slept.
The next morning.
They all lined up in the stadium.
His father and sister had wide smiles on their faces.
Especially his sister.
His brothers, though—
They weren't thrilled he'd come back alive.
If looks could kill, Sylas would've died at least ten times.
His father smiled, but every time his stepmother glanced his way, that smile faded.
The Emperor was present.
No one dared to interrupt.
Sylas could feel Ray's father on edge.
The man looked ready to march onto the stage at any moment.
His legs twitched.
His fingers wouldn't stop moving.
He bit his nails more than once, wishing the ceremony would end already.
One by one, the Emperor stepped forward and gave each of them a title.
Heroes.
He turned toward the crowd.
"They were the ones who closed the gate.
Who ensured everyone's safety."
No one said a word.
"Please—give them a hand."
The stadium erupted in applause.
He shook each of their hands.
But when he reached Sylas—
He paused.
The fake smile dropped.
And the look he gave Sylas?
It was familiar.
After the ceremony, Elaine jumped into him.
She threw her arms around him, kissing him on the cheek.
"I'm so glad you're alive!"
Feeling a bit annoyed, Sylas pushed her away.
"Damn it, Sister—stop."
She reached out again, lips puckered.
"I was so worried about you!"
"I get it—but it's too much."
A voice cut through from behind her.
"Stop it, Elaine."
Their father walked up the stairs toward them.
Sylas stepped forward.
"Hello, Father. Looks like you've been well."
"Thank you," he replied.
But his stepmother's voice came between them.
"If he could make it out… then anyone could."
A wide smile spread across Sylas's face.
He'd waited for her to say something like that.
"If I'm not mistaken… Luis didn't go."
He tilted his head.
"Could it be… he was scared?
Or worse—a coward?"
She didn't like that.
Her fist clenched.
Her jaw tightened.
"You disrespectful bastard…"
The words slipped through her teeth.
Luis moved to unsheathe his sword.
Sylas was already gripping his hilt.
Ready.
"Where is my son?!"
Ray's father's voice exploded like thunder.
He stomped up the staircase.
His face was red.
His eyes—bloodshot, like he hadn't slept in days.
His voice—raw.
Angry.
"Where is he?! What did you do?!"
Sylas didn't flinch.
His grip didn't loosen.
But his heart—
It was pounding.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
Each beat echoed in his skull like a war drum.
He opened his mouth to speak—
But the Headmaster stepped forward.
"Let's talk, King Alexander."