The nobles stepped out from the bushes, their faces still red with disbelief.
Sai clenched his fists. "Father… did you really ask him to join the Elites?"
"Yes," Harrison replied simply.
"Why, Father? He's just a commoner!"
Harrison turned his gaze on his son, voice sharp. "He is far superior to you — in every way you can imagine."
Sai opened his mouth to protest. "But Father—"
"If you have time to argue," Harrison cut in, his tone edged with authority, "use it to train."
The three of them fell silent, their pride bruised deeper than any wound.
At the Royal Castle
Harrison stood before the Princess, bowing slightly.
"Your Highness, I believe I've found the man — the one who saved you from the monsters. But he's denying his identity."
The Princess, seated by the tall window, didn't turn to face him. "A few guests are arriving tomorrow. We'll discuss this matter after their visit."
"As you command," Harrison said, stepping back.
Just as he reached the door, her voice stopped him.
"Sir Harrison… make sure their visit is perfect. No mistakes."
He bowed once more and left the hall, the echo of his boots fading into the marble corridors.
Meanwhile, in the Bazaar
Ron lay on a large rock outside the city walls, staring at the stars. His mind drifted back to the library — to that book signed by Dream.
"How do I get back in there?" he muttered. "That old man's not gonna help me for free…"
A sudden noise drew his attention. Down the road, the bazaar was alive — colorful banners flapping in the wind, lanterns glowing like fireflies.
He frowned. "What's with all the decorations? A festival?"
Before he could move, a group of guards approached.
"Sir Ron!" one of them called out.
Ron blinked. "Sir?"
The lead guard handed him a small pouch that jingled with gold coins. "A gift from General Harrison. He said it's for taking up your precious time."
Ron weighed the pouch in his hand. "Well, I won't say no to free gold. Tell old Harrison I said thanks."
He glanced at the busy square. "So what's all this for? Something big?"
The guard nodded. "Yes, sir. Tomorrow, guests from nearby kingdoms will arrive. Some of them are… very special."
"Special, huh?" Ron smirked. "As long as they don't make me clean up after them, I'm fine."
The guards chuckled nervously, saluted, and walked away.
Ron tucked the pouch away and checked into a small inn near the edge of town. The bed was rough, but it was better than sleeping on stone. Within minutes, he was asleep — peaceful for the first time in days.
In His Dream
Ron opened his eyes. The world was dim, mist curling around his feet.
The old man stood before him, smiling slyly.
"Miss me?"
Ron groaned. "Not you again."
"Hey, that's no way to greet your Elder," the old man said, tapping his cane against the ground. The ground changed into beautiful garden.
Ron turned on his side. "Go away, I'm busy dreaming."
The old man's eye twitched. "Don't ignore me, brat!"
Ron made exaggerated snoring sounds.
With a sigh, the old man raised his cane and whacked Ron squarely on the head.
"OW!"
Ron bolted awake in the real world, rubbing his head. "What a terrible dream…"
He blinked at the ceiling. "Why do I feel like I just got hit for real?"
Outside, the town bells chimed. The morning of the royal visit had begun.
Ron stays awake after the old man's blow.
As sunlight slips through the curtains. Ron walks out onto the balcony and stares at the massive walls that encircle the city. Far beyond them, he sees carriages and mounted guards approaching. "They must be the special guests," he murmurs.
An hour later the four gates swing open and the carriages begin to pour in. People line the streets, tossing flowers and cheering. Ron comes down to the square, rubbing his eyes. "Where are they from?" he asks under his breath.
A man nearby answers, "Princes and princesses from the neighboring kingdoms. And those three carriages at the end—those carry the most important people in the land."
Ron's face tightens. He leans forward and spots a familiar figure in the last group. "That old man," he whispers, clenching his fists.
The old man meets Ron's gaze and gives him a cheeky wink. When all the carriages reach the royal castle the crowd swells; the visiting royals step down to thunderous applause. The old man raises his hand and the people cheer louder. He looks at Ron again and smiles, as if relishing Ron's angry surprise.
The women nearby giggle and whisper. "He looked at me."
"He smiled at me."
"Now I can die happy."
An old man in the crowd murmurs, "I'm thankful to see this legend with my own eyes."
Another adds, "I can die without regrets."
"Who is this old man?" Ron asks.
"Old man, you say? He's a legend," someone answers. "Show some respect."
Ron ignores them and starts to walk away, jaw set. "I'll kill that old geezer," he mutters.
As he turns, a familiar voice calls, "Sir Ron." It's the guard from before.
Ron stops. The guard bows slightly. "Please join us. Sir Harrison invited you."