The tournament slowly drew to a close. Astara received her prize, but for the citizens, her victory was nothing short of divine—they worshipped it as if blessed by the gods. Yet, despite their fervent admiration, Astara remained indifferent.
Zira praised Daylan for his efforts, a wide grin stretching across her face—but it couldn't hide the sorrow beneath. The tears came quickly, streaming down her cheeks before she could stop them. Daylan pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he whispered promises in her ear. It wasn't over, he assured her. He would do whatever it took to bring their mother back.
Medora took Zira home, while Daylan made the quiet journey back to the monastery alone. As for Astara, she excused herself, citing royal duties that demanded her attention.
Later that night, Daylan sat in silence, his head tilted back as he gazed upward. His mind drifted, wandering from one thought to the next.
There wasn't anything I could do, was there? I mean, my route had only seven hellhounds on them, and I killed all…but isn't something I have to dwell on, is it?
I have four more days. I don't care what it would take, I must get Mother out of prison.
He kept trying to justify his actions, but deep down, he was tearing himself apart—haunted by the thought that he hadn't done enough.
Before long, he rose and reached for a book on the shelf, quickly losing himself in its pages. He moved from one book to another, using the words as a shield against his spiraling thoughts. Eventually, exhaustion crept in, and he drifted off to sleep.
The sun soon began to peek over the horizon, casting a warm glow through the windows. Astara stepped into the library, and there he was—Daylan, fast asleep in his chair, his silver-grey hair gently flickered behind him.
She walked over and gently shook him awake. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the crystal lights, and when he saw Astara standing before him, a soft smile formed on his lips.
"Hey…congratulations."
"Lieutenant Bruce wants to see us." She turned and gestured at Daylan to follow suit.
He stood up, stretched, and quietly followed her lead. Placing third should have earned him at least a measure of respect—but it didn't. The others still looked at him with veiled disdain, their eyes full of judgment and disgust.
Soon, they arrived at Lieutenant Bruce's office. As they took their seats, Daylan met the lieutenant's gaze—steady and unflinching, their eyes locking in a silent exchange.
"What's it been? Two weeks?" Lieutenant Bruce smirked. "You did well in the tournament—I'll give you that. Third place isn't for the weak. So, officially—welcome to the Honor Chivalry."
Daylan remained still, his expression unreadable. He didn't seem happy or sad—it simply didn't matter to him at that moment.
"Despite all your impressive accomplishments, you really do have a knack for attracting trouble. You're still tangled up with the Bastian family, and now Mr. Enzo's accusing you of deliberately killing his son."
Astara clenched her fist. "What does it matter? Enyo turned into a ghoul—it was kill or be killed."
"You're right, Lady Astara. But he was still Enyo—a human. Killing him shouldn't have been an option." He turned to Daylan. "As for you, it hasn't been confirmed whether you killed him or not. They found poison in his body, and it's suspected it might've been in the potion he took.
"For now, I suggest you stay out of trouble—don't make your situation any worse."
Daylan gave a firm nod, and they were dismissed.
The moment they stepped out of the office, Astara turned to Daylan. "Come with me. There's something I want to show you."
Without hesitation, he followed her.
The son of the man I need to pay off in a few days—his blood is on my hands. Hesmirked.
What a life I'm living. He shook his head.
Astara led him to the entrance of the monastery. As they approached, Daylan noticed a familiar figure—but he brushed it off. Still, with each step closer, the feeling grew stronger. He knew that person.
"Mother?" He asked curiously.
The moment they stepped through the entrance, his mother rushed toward him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Daylan froze, confused. How was she out of prison?
If she was free… then there was only one person who could've made it happen.
Astara?
He had considered the possibility, but he never thought Astara would actually go through with it. Still, seeing his mother free filled him with quiet relief.
They shared a quiet, touching moment, while Astara stood nearby, simply observing. But the moment didn't last—guards soon approached, informing Daylan's mother that she had no permission to be there and would have to leave.
Before leaving, she bowed her head in gratitude toward Astara. Her voice trembled as she asked Daylan to make sure he thanked her properly on her behalf.
Astara, already prepared, had arranged a carriage to take her home.
Astara and Daylan stood side by side, watching the carriage roll away. Daylan waved until it disappeared from sight. A weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and for the first time in a while, he felt a sense of peace.
Still, a question lingered—what had he ever done for Astara to care so deeply about his family? The thought unsettled him. Yet, whatever the reason, he was grateful.
Just as his thoughts began to spiral, Astara broke the silence. "I need to speak with you."
Why is she ordering me around like that? Okay, Princess. He sighed.
He followed her lead, hands tucked in his pockets, head tilted slightly back. A quiet smile played on his lips the whole way—he was finally free.
As soon as they reached the library, Astara sank into a chair and began rubbing her forehead. Daylan took his seat across from her, the smile still lingering on his lips.
Astara cleared her throat. "I know you're dead, Daylan. I'm not sure how you're still alive, but I watched you get brutally murdered with my own eyes."
Daylan's eyes widened in shock, and he leaned forward, caught off guard.
"I've studied you for a while—that's the real reason I took you under my wing. And whoever you are, despite the differences between you and the Daylan I knew, it's clear you care about his family just as much as he did. That's enough for me."
Daylan smiled and leaned back in his seat, head tilted upward. "You're right. My real name is Dexter—Dexter Grey. I don't have all of Daylan's memories, not even enough to call them complete. But still… I am Daylan now."
Astara glanced at Daylan. "How exactly did you become Daylan?"
"Honestly, it's beyond me. In my past life, I was an author—well, a writer. That world was nothing like this one. I don't even know if I actually died. I mean, it's possible… but I wasn't in any real danger. I just had a bad case of writer's block and a fever. That shouldn't have been enough to kill me—but who knows? I went to sleep, and when I woke up… I was Daylan."
Before Astara could speak up, he continued. His head still tilted upward.
"It was tough when I first got here, but I'd written enough stories to believe that worrying wouldn't help. At least, that's what I thought… Honestly, I could've run away. I didn't have to help the Rhys family. But they had something I never had in my past life—love."
Daylan sniffled.
"Daylan's life had everything I longed for in my past one… I know it's selfish—everyone thinks I'm him, and whether Daylan would've wanted that or not doesn't change the truth. But still, I am Daylan now. And seeing how much you all loved him… I couldn't ignore it. I felt compelled to carry on what he started."
Astara wore a gentle smile.
"I appreciate that."
Daylan instinctively leaned forward, turning to Astara. "What did you mean when you said you saw Daylan get murdered?"
"Yeah… that's actually the main reason I wanted to talk to you." Her expression darkened.
"I think the people who killed Daylan might be connected to something I've been investigating for a while now. I didn't get a good look at them, but when I saw you, I was actually on my way to the training field—you know, where you've been working with Medora."
Daylan was all ears.
"There were two of them, both wearing black cloaks draped over their shoulders. I don't know what Daylan got himself involved in, but those people… they were powerful. Far beyond anything I could handle.
I couldn't do anything—I just hid in the bushes and watched as they dismembered him… then, for some reason, put him back together."
At that moment, his suspicions were confirmed—Daylan had been murdered.
"This is why I had your debt paid off—so I could have your undivided attention. From this moment on, you work for me. We're going to find the people who killed Daylan and uncover how they're tied to what I'm dealing with." Her voice was firm and steady.
Daylan smiled. "Sounds like a fair deal. I get to find out who killed Daylan and why—and you get one step closer to solving your mystery. I'm in."