The territory of House Ilirn lay just south of the city that the Shadow King had destroyed, which was also why they had been able to respond so quickly when the incident occurred. The proximity meant responsibility, and responsibility, in elven lands, was not something one simply ignored.
So when Felix attempted to excuse himself and continue his journey toward Ulgracia, the Ilirn household did not refuse him in any crude or forceful manner, yet neither did they allow him to leave. Their insistence was gentle, refined, and utterly inescapable, wrapped in courtesy that made refusal feel almost like rudeness.
And Felix, unfortunately, was particularly ill-equipped to deal with Lia's devastating puppy eyes.
Thus, he found himself remaining for a few days, which quickly turned into an invitation to what was described as a "small gathering" of elven nobles.
Or rather, the children of noble houses.
The estate itself was a reflection of Sarion's culture. Tall ivory structures rose gracefully into the night, their surfaces etched with ancient patterns that shimmered faintly under soft magical illumination. The air carried the faint scent of blooming nightflowers, and the pathways between halls were lined with silver-leafed trees whose branches swayed gently, even without wind, as if responding to some unseen rhythm.
Within the main hall, light gathered in quiet brilliance. Floating orbs of pale gold and soft azure hovered above, casting a glow that neither blinded nor dimmed, but simply existed in perfect harmony with the surroundings. The entire space felt alive, yet never overwhelming.
With Lia and her elder brother Giullis leading the way, Felix was introduced to one noble after another. Names passed by him in a steady stream, accompanied by polite bows and curious glances. And as his identity became known, the whispers began.
They spread not in chaos, but in a quiet ripple through the hall.
Some leaned toward one another, asking softly if he was truly the Hero spoken of. Others, more certain, recounted fragments of his deeds, piecing together what they knew. A few watched him openly, their expressions filled with interest rather than judgment, while others spoke with a kind of thoughtful discontent, wondering aloud how the world had reached a point where someone like him had to take on such a role.
It was not envy.
Nor arrogance.
It was curiosity, and perhaps a faint dissatisfaction with the world itself.
That quiet murmur only deepened after Lia began recounting what had happened in the ruined city.
"…And then Hero Felix showed me what total destruction feels like."
Her voice, though not raised, carried clearly enough that conversations began to fade around her.
"A city filled with death and corruption, housing an existence that had cheated death many times. And yet, all it took was a single spell."
She did not rush her words. Each line was given space, as though she herself was still reliving the moment.
"No staff. No wand. No ritual, no waiting. Just a simple motion of his hand, and magic circles—far more complex than the entire library of House Ilirn—appeared around him."
A few brows lifted at that, some exchanging glances, not in doubt, but in quiet recognition of what such a claim implied.
"He called it Fallen Down… and I believe there could not be a more fitting name. A spell that would make even the mightiest fall."
By the time she finished, the hall had grown still.
Not silent in emptiness, but in attention.
In Sarion, magic was not merely a tool. It was the highest form of expression, the purest art, and the truest reflection of one's worth. To wield magic with such overwhelming presence was not simply impressive, it was worthy of admiration in its own right.
Felix, standing amidst them, could feel the subtle shift in their gaze.
There was no distance in it.
No fear.
Only a quiet, growing respect.
And from Lia, who lingered just a little closer than before, a certain brightness that had not been there when the evening began.
As the night deepened, the gathering began to transform.
Bards, who had been present from the beginning, started shaping songs from what they had heard. Their voices rose one by one, weaving together melodies that carried Felix's deeds into something more enduring. His clash with the Demon Lord Clayman, the sealing of Charybdis, and now the fall of the Shadow King all found their place within the flowing structure of their music.
And once the singing began, it did not end there.
One song gave way to another, as though the night itself demanded to be filled.
There were songs of ancient heroes, of the one who sealed Veldora, their names carried across generations through careful preservation. There were songs of nobles and princesses, of bonds formed beyond status, and of stories where love and duty stood at odds with one another. There were even songs of legends long forgotten by the world, kept alive only through the memory of the bards who refused to let them fade.
Time, for the elves, moved differently.
To Felix, it felt as though only a handful of hours had passed.
Yet when he glanced toward the sky beyond the open arches of the hall, he realized that an entire day had already slipped by. And only then did he learn, almost in passing, that this "small gathering" would continue for a week.
The realization settled in quietly.
As the festivities continued, the nobles began to share their own talents. Some took up instruments, their music flowing with a kind of effortless precision that came only from centuries of refinement. Others painted, their canvases filling with color and meaning in ways that seemed almost alive. Conversations moved gently between appreciation and curiosity, never loud, never intrusive.
Eventually, the gathering extended beyond the hall.
Under the open sky, magic was demonstrated.
Not as a display of strength, but as an art form.
Spells unfolded with elegance, shaped carefully, their forms controlled and deliberate. Flames danced in patterns rather than burning, water flowed in shapes that defied gravity, and light bent itself into intricate constructs that existed purely to be seen.
"It is truly our honor that we may have you judge our little tricks," one of the mages said after completing his spell, offering a respectful bow.
Felix gave a small nod, offering a brief comment in return.
Of course, they did not know that this was the part he enjoyed the most.
Collector was active.
Every spell.
Every variation.
Every subtle difference in execution.
Captured.
He did not need to consciously process it anymore. The phenomenon itself was recorded, stored, and made accessible to him. If he wished, he could recreate any of it, not by memorization, but by understanding.
Not that he needed these spells.
With Tier Magic already at his disposal, most of what he saw here would not serve much purpose in actual combat.
But that was not the point.
Collector was not about immediate usefulness.
It was about accumulation.
About potential.
About the quiet certainty that, given enough time, nothing would remain beyond his reach.
Even Fallen Down.
Though, of course, actually casting it still required preparation. His current reserves of magicules were not sufficient to freely use anything above Tier 8, especially not Super Tier Magic, without prior accumulation.
As Felix stood there, letting his thoughts drift toward what else he might gather in the coming days, Lia approached him once more.
"So, Hero Felix… do you have any other talents?" she asked, her tone light, though her attention remained fixed on him. "Of course, besides being a great magician, hero, and fighter."
For a moment, Felix did not answer.
Instead, his thoughts drifted back.
To a life far removed from this one.
It had been simple, uneventful, but not without its moments. He had had time—time to explore small interests that never quite grew into anything more.
At one point, he had taken to singing. Enough to join a band, though it had never truly gone anywhere. Later, he had tried sharing that voice with others, quietly building something that remained small, yet meaningful in its own way.
Compared to the bards here, it was nothing remarkable.
But perhaps…
Here, it would be enough.
"Certainly," Felix said. "How about I sing a song."
The shift was immediate.
Not abrupt, but natural.
Conversations slowed, then quieted, as attention turned toward him. Curiosity settled into the space, soft but undeniable.
The Hero… singing?
Felix considered for a brief moment.
"Which song would fit…"
Then he remembered.
A small detail about Empress Elmesia. Her strength. Her position. The quiet cost of standing at the top.
"This should work."
He lifted his gaze slightly.
"Let me sing you a song. Dedicated to the Empress Elmesia."
And then he began.
"The stars are very beautiful, above the palace walls,
They shine with equal splendour, still above far humbler halls.
I watch them from my window, but their bright entrancing glow,
Reminds me of the freedom I gave up so long ago."
As the first lines left his lips, the atmosphere shifted.
The hall did not fall silent immediately. Rather, it seemed to settle, as if the space itself adjusted to the tone of his voice.
It was not as refined as the bards.
But it carried something else.
Something steadier.
Something sincere.
As the melody continued, the nobles listened.
"Although I am the head of state, in truth I am the least,
The true Queen knows her people fed, before she sits to feast.
The good Queen knows her people safe, before she takes her rest,
Thinks twice and thrice and yet again, before she makes request."
At first, their thoughts turned inward.
To their own houses.
To the responsibilities they would one day inherit.
To the expectations placed upon them, not yet fully realized, yet already present.
They thought of their parents.
Of the decisions made behind closed doors.
Of the weight that came not from power, but from duty.
As the song moved forward, those thoughts shifted.
From themselves…
To the Empress.
The scale changed.
What they carried would one day be heavy.
But what she carried…
Was beyond comparison.
"The dearest are my Heralds, swift to spring to my command.
Who give me aid and fellowship, who always understand
That land and people first have needs that I may not deny—
So I must send my dearest friends to danger—and to die."
And as the song reached the lines that spoke of heralds—of those sent forward, trusted, relied upon, yet inevitably placed in danger—
Something in the room softened.
The pride they held as nobles intertwined with something deeper.
Something quieter.
A recognition.
Even if the words were not hers, even if it was only an interpretation, the idea that their Empress would see them as her dearest…
It settled heavily.
Not as a burden.
But as something to live up to.
"These tears that burn my eyes are all the tears the Queen can't shed,
The tears I weep in silence as I mourn my Heralds dead.
Oh gods that dwell beyond the stars, if you can hear my cry—
And if you have compassion—let me send no more to die!"
By the time the final lines were sung, the hall had grown still in a way that no command could have achieved.
And beneath that stillness, another thought had begun to take shape.
Unspoken.
Shared.
How could he know this?
How could he speak of her with such understanding?
Had he met her?
The question lingered quietly, carried not by words, but by the way they looked at him now.
When the song ended, the silence remained.
Not empty.
Not uncertain.
But full.
It took a moment… then another… before it gently broke.
Applause followed.
Not loud, not overwhelming, but steady, sincere, and deeply felt.
"If even the Hero sings like this… what place is left for us bards, sir," one of them said with a respectful bow, a faint smile on his lips.
"Indeed… you've surprised us, Sir Felix," Lia added, her voice soft, though there was a quiet satisfaction in it, as if she had expected nothing less.
And for a brief moment, as the attention lingered on him, Felix simply stood there, letting it pass without overthinking it.
The night, after all, was far from over.
A/n: I was kinda happy and listening to some fantasy songs etc and just wrote it. It might not be some people's cup of tea as it includes a song but it does fit the Elvish vibe.
For anyone wondering the name of the song, it's "Cost of the Crown" do listen to it on YouTube if you liked the lyrics.