The air in the lower halls of Diandrik Magic Institute was damp and heavy. The torches flickered against the stone walls, casting long, jagged shadows that moved like ghosts. Somewhere beneath the grand classrooms and ornate towers, hidden from the world above, was the school dungeon — a place reserved for those who had broken its sacred laws.
Roze sat in one of its cold iron cells, wrists bound with arcane chains that pulsed faintly with suppression runes. His dagger had been confiscated, his robes stripped of insignia. For hours, there had been only silence — no footsteps, no questions, no comfort.
The night after that violent outburst, rumors had spread through the institute like wildfire. No one dared speak his name too loudly, yet everyone whispered it: Roze Apocalypse, the prodigy who fell into darkness.
Outside the cell, two professors stood guard, their cloaks shimmering faintly with protective wards.
"His magic overflowed beyond measure," one murmured. "If the King finds him dangerous…"
The other shook his head. "He won't be spared unless the gods intervene."
The words barely reached Roze. He sat with his head bowed, staring at the faint reflection of himself in the floor — a boy who had once dreamed of standing above the world, now chained beneath it.
But as midnight deepened, faint footsteps echoed down the stairs. The guards stirred, then froze, as two silhouettes emerged from the darkness.
Vonni and Voidheart.
Vonni wore his cloak tightly, his crimson eyes glowing faintly. Voidheart followed quietly, his presence as calm as shadow.
"We're here to see him," Vonni said coolly, flashing a small seal ring — the insignia of the Vonni family. "By order of Count Vonni himself. Temporary access, no questions."
The guards hesitated but bowed reluctantly. The Vonni family's influence reached far beyond the academy.
When the door shut behind them, Roze finally looked up.
Vonni stepped closer to the cell bars, his voice softer now. "Roze…"
Roze's expression was unreadable. "You shouldn't have come."
Voidheart crouched beside him, resting a hand on the iron bars. "You're our friend. We needed to know the truth."
For a long moment, Roze said nothing. Then, slowly, he began to speak. He told them everything — about Diaz, about the truth of his past life as Daisuke Nakahara, about Leon Brooks and the accident that took his life. His words trembled between rage and sorrow, and his voice cracked only once, near the end.
When he finished, silence filled the dungeon again.
Vonni closed his eyes, sighing deeply. "So that's it. You remembered everything."
Roze nodded faintly. "I didn't mean to… it just came back. And when it did, I couldn't stop it."
Voidheart's voice was calm but heavy with feeling. "You've carried too much pain for one life… and now two."
Vonni stared at him, conflicted. "You did something terrible, Roze. But… I understand why. You didn't kill him out of malice — you killed him because he tore open a wound that never healed."
Roze lowered his gaze. "That doesn't make it right."
"No," Vonni said softly, "but it makes you human."
Voidheart nodded. "We're not leaving you alone in this. Not ever."
Roze looked up at them both — his friends, standing in defiance of a world that now saw him as a monster. "You'll get punished for this."
Vonni smirked faintly. "Let them try. My father's already furious, but he'll help if I ask. He owes me more than a few favors."
Roze's lips parted slightly, a trace of gratitude breaking through his exhaustion. "Thank you… both of you."
Vonni placed a hand against the bars. "We trust you, Roze. No matter what happens next."
When they left, the torches dimmed again, and Roze sat back, closing his eyes. For the first time since that night, the silence didn't feel so suffocating.
Morning came with the tolling of bells and the thunder of hooves. The Royal Guard of King Fukudo arrived in gleaming armor, bearing the banner of the Kingdom of Celvarn.
Roze was brought from his cell, chains clinking against the stone as he was led up through the winding corridors. Students and professors parted in silence as he passed — some in fear, some in pity, and others in disbelief.
At the end of the grand hall stood King Fukudo himself — tall, broad-shouldered, with long black hair streaked with silver. His gaze was sharp yet oddly curious as Roze knelt before him, wrists still bound.
The king studied him for a long moment before speaking. "So you are Roze Apocalypse — the prodigy of Diandrik."
Roze lifted his head slightly. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Fukudo's expression softened into something almost amused. "You carry yourself like a soldier, not a student. Tell me, Roze… do you regret what you did?"
Roze hesitated. "I regret losing control. But not the truth that caused it."
The king's lips curved faintly. "Honesty. A rare quality in these halls."
He rose from his throne and paced slowly around Roze. "The council demands your execution. The professors fear you. But I see something different — not a criminal, but a weapon yet unsharpened. You have the look of one who's faced death more than once."
Roze said nothing.
Finally, Fukudo stopped in front of him. "I will make you an offer, Roze Apocalypse. One that could spare your life."
Roze looked up warily. "An offer?"
The king's tone became calm, measured. "I have a daughter — Princess Anne. Strong, but without a husband worthy of her. I seek a successor, someone with power and resolve. If you agree to marry her and stand by the royal line, I will grant you freedom. Refuse… and your execution will proceed at dawn."
The room fell silent. The weight of the offer hung thick in the air.
Roze's pulse quickened, his mind racing — yet his face remained unreadable. "If that's the only path left…"
He bowed his head slightly. "Then I accept, Your Majesty."
King Fukudo's smile deepened. "Wise. You'll find I reward loyalty more than obedience."
Then, raising his hand, he declared before the court:
"The act committed by Roze Apocalypse was not murder. The late Diaz was a criminal who attacked a royal student. Roze merely defended himself. His record shall remain untarnished."
The crowd murmured in confusion, but none dared challenge the king's word.
Roze was released from his chains that afternoon. The cold weight around his wrists faded, replaced by something heavier — obligation.
---
Later that evening, Roze met Vonni and Voidheart in the garden courtyard.
Vonni crossed his arms. "So, you're free… but at what price?"
Roze sighed quietly. "The King's judgment was absolute. He said Diaz was at fault and I only defended myself. He's covering it all."
Voidheart looked troubled. "A convenient truth."
Roze nodded. "Yes. But it saves the Institute's reputation… and mine."
Vonni scowled. "That's politics for you. Twist the story until it sounds heroic."
He turned away briefly, then looked back with a sad smile. "My father's called me home. He doesn't want me staying here after this mess. Says the court's eyes are too sharp now."
Roze's expression darkened. "You're leaving?"
Vonni stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "I am. But our friendship won't fade just because I'm gone. You and Voidheart — you're my brothers. Eternal, remember?"
Voidheart joined in the embrace, his voice soft. "Always."
When they parted, Vonni grinned faintly, though his eyes betrayed emotion. "Try not to get executed again, all right?"
Roze actually laughed — a brief, broken sound. "No promises."
Vonni turned, his cloak sweeping behind him as he walked toward the carriages waiting outside. He didn't look back.
Voidheart watched him leave, then faced Roze. "So, you're going to be a king someday."
Roze's voice was quiet but resolute. "That's what they say."
Voidheart's lips curved faintly. "Then I'll be there when it happens. If you rise that high, I'll stand beside you — not as a servant, but as your most trusted hand."
Roze looked at him, eyes heavy with gratitude. "Thank you."
The two stood together beneath the fading sunset, the sky streaked in crimson and gold.
And somewhere within the palace walls, King Fukudo's voice echoed as he gave his final decree:
"Let it be known — Roze Apocalypse shall marry Princess Anne, heir to the Celvarn throne. Their union shall mark a new era of strength and power."
The bells of Diandrik rang once more, not for mourning this time, but for destiny — the rise of a fallen prodigy now bound to a crown.