The Monarch Hall — also known as the Audience Hall — opened its gates long before the one everyone was waiting for arrived.
Massive doors of blue marble slid apart without a sound, revealing a space so vast that the ceiling seemed to curve into the sky itself. Pillars rose like frozen waves, each etched with laws older than kingdoms. The floor reflected those who walked upon it, not like a mirror, but like calm water— showing not faces, but intent.
Monarch Ark Sama entered first.
His presence alone caused the hall to settle, like a restless sea recognizing its tide. Beside him walked his family— measured, composed, yet unmistakably tense.
Arc Sama followed, posture straight, expression unreadable. Akira Sama walked calmly, though her fingers tightened slightly at her side. Yukimin Sama stayed close, eyes darting around with curiosity she pretended not to have.
Two uncles came next, each with their wives and children. The younger ones whispered excitedly, clearly sensing that this gathering was different from the usual formal assemblies.
One seat, however, remained empty.
And everyone noticed.
---
The Audience Hall was never meant for decoration.
It was a nerve center.
Those gathered here were not ordinary nobles. They were individuals tied— directly or indirectly— to the invisible mechanisms that kept the world from collapsing.
From overseeing the decisions of kingdoms and royal families
To monitoring military movements across continents
From managing System user data
To recording criminal activity in lawless regions
There were specialists who tracked dungeon emergence, catalogued monster evolution, regulated weather patterns, and—when necessary— authorized coups against tyrant rulers.
Some worked with justice systems across species.
Some maintained balance between races that had once tried to annihilate each other.
This hall did not judge morality.
It enforced continuity.
---
Minister Roy stood near the central ring, hands folded behind his back.
His expression was calm, but inwardly, his thoughts were anything but.
'Fourteen years…
And yet, the pressure has not faded.'
He glanced at the empty space beside the Monarch's seat.
'If anything, it's heavier.'
---
To his left stood Hima, the City Head.
Mid-forties, sharp eyes, practical demeanor.
She surveyed the hall with professional precision.
'So many unnecessary attendees, she thought. Royal figures who "just happened" to feel something change.'
She exhaled quietly.
'So it's true. He really came back.'
---
A tall, slender man with silver-green hair leaned lightly on his staff.
Yu An— representative of minority species.
To the humans present, he looked around sixty.
In truth, he was over six hundred.
His elven eyes traced the room slowly.
'This many fluctuations in fate threads…
It's been centuries since I felt this.'
He smiled faintly.
'Child of Monarchs… you return at a dangerous time.'
---
Near the data platform sat System Manager Samai Dada, fingers tapping rhythmically.
"Strange," he muttered. "No system alerts. No forced synchronization."
He frowned.
'If he's returned and systems did not scream…
Then he's beyond them now.'
The thought unsettled him more than he liked to admit.
---
A young man stood near the atmospheric control rings— Kor, head of weather management.
Only in his mid-twenties, he looked out of place among elders and ancient beings.
Yet the moment the Monarch Hall activated, every weather construct on the planet had stabilized.
He swallowed.
"…Even storms are behaving," he whispered. "Just from his presence?"
---
At the far right, leaning on a cane carved with kingdom seals, was Gupta Nagisa.
Over eighty.
Department of Kingdom Management.
His eyes were sharp despite his age.
"So the rumors were not exaggerations," he said quietly. "A child sent away at four years old… returning like this."
He chuckled dryly.
"History loves repeating its worst habits."
---
Beside him stood Chana Kiyo, strategist, thirty-three, arms crossed.
She listened.
Analyzed.
'Every power center is here, she noted. And none of them were officially summoned.'
Her lips curved slightly.
'Fear is faster than authority. huh.'
---
At the rear, clad in dark armor polished to ceremonial perfection, stood Vira Chiku, commander of the Monarch Army.
He did not speak.
Did not gossip.
But his grip on his gauntlet tightened.
'Fourteen years, he thought. And still… the soldiers remember.'
---
The murmurs grew.
"He disappeared fourteen years ago, didn't he?"
"Some say he was exiled."
"No, no — training. Definitely training."
"At four years old? Are you serious?"
"That's absurd."
"Absurd… yet fitting."
A man scoffed. "You expect me to believe a child survived exile?"
Another replied calmly, "Not a child. That child."
Whispers sharpened.
"That's why they call him—"
"—the strongest."
"Among thousands of Monarchs across generations."
"Third to ever receive that title."
"The Strongest Monarch!"
Some scoffed.
Some believed.
Some stayed silent, because silence felt safer.
Yu An closed his eyes briefly.
Titles are cages, he thought. Let us see what kind he returns as.
---
Yukimin listened from her seat, legs barely reaching the floor.
'Eh... They are talking about him like a legend,' she thought.
'But he laughed at dinner.'
'He even stole food from my plate.'
Her chest tightened.
'Please, Do not turn him into something distant.'
---
Ark Sama raised his hand.
The hall quieted instantly.
Every whisper died.
Every thought sharpened.
He stood.
"The Audience Hall acknowledges all present," he said evenly. "This assembly exists to hear, to judge, and to remember."
A pause.
Then—
"The one you are here for has arrived."
The doors behind the throne opened.
Blue light spilled in.
"He has entered the hall."
And for the first time in fourteen years—
The world held its breath.