"The victor—Arsen Bern of the Second Guard!!!"

The judge proclaimed the arrival of the new champion with a powerful voice. Maxime gently set Theodora Bening down, as the crowd erupted in applause and cheers. There would no longer be a need to return to the black-haired knight he once was. With that realization, he felt both a sense of relief and a twinge of sorrow. Across from him, Theodora picked up Black Wolf and sheathed it, looking at him with a lightness in her movements, as if a burden had been lifted.

But in her gaze, there was a hint of concern. Maxime, knowing what Theodora was worried about, tapped his chest lightly.

"My wounds are fine now. I still can’t use aura, but at least I won’t be teetering on the edge of death anymore."

Hearing this, Theodora’s lips moved wordlessly, her eyes welling up as she looked at him.

"…Really? You’re not going to push yourself and collapse like before?"

"There’s no reason for me to lie anymore. And no reason to hurt you again."

"…The one who hurt you was me."

Maxime pretended not to hear her last words. Theodora, realizing he was intentionally ignoring her comment, sighed.

"So?"

Maxime tilted his head at her question. Her expression was both familiar and unfamiliar, neither the cold, composed face of the commander of the Crow Knights nor the despairing former lover who had learned the truth about their past. This Theodora reminded him of the first time they’d met.

"What happens now?"

"Well, first, I’d like to savor this feeling of being the champion."

Maxime teased, and Theodora’s expression pouted again, looking endearingly cute despite her dusty and disheveled appearance.

"Just kidding. From now on, I suspect a lot will change. The atmosphere in the capital will grow even more tense, and the conflict between Count Bening and the royal family will become apparent to everyone."

The outlook after their reunion was not particularly bright. Maxime spoke slowly, laying out the facts. Untangling one knot of the many twisted threads in their lives had only been the beginning. There was still a long road ahead if they were to fully face their past.

"If that’s the case, then you and I will probably end up even more divided."

Theodora’s expression didn’t darken. She, who had been searching endlessly for something, was not about to lose sight of this new path before her.

"I won’t let that happen. Now that you’ve shown up in front of me again, I won’t let you go until we’ve resolved all the misunderstandings between us."

"That’s just what I was about to say."

At Maxime’s reply, Theodora smiled. Snow was softly gathering on their heads. Maxime reached out and brushed the snow from Theodora’s hair and shoulders, and she smiled gratefully. That smile brought a rush of memories back to Maxime.

"So, can you tell me what all of this was about?"

"If I were to explain everything, it’d take a while. Right now, it might be a bit complicated."

Theodora burst into laughter at Maxime’s response.

"I know, you fool. I was just asking if you could explain it at all."

"There’s only ever been one thing I couldn’t tell you."

"And now? Can you tell me that one thing, too?"

Theodora asked, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability. Maxime nodded.

"Yes. Now, I can tell you everything."

"…That’s enough for me."

Theodora stepped back from Maxime. The cheers from the crowd showed no signs of stopping. Though Maxime was now considered her rival, that fact did not cast her into despair. She didn’t want to lose him again; she wanted to continue forward with him. Freed from her shackles, Theodora took a deep breath, her breath forming mist among the falling snowflakes.

"Congratulations on your victory, Maxime."

She said this with a smile, no longer the woman crying in that winter of the past. Maxime, contemplating the day when he could erase even the last of those shadows, responded to her.

"…Thank you."

As if letting go of past regrets, Theodora slowly walked back to the waiting area. Maxime stood there, watching her retreating figure for a long time. Snow continued to fall. In the opposite direction of Theodora’s footprints, Maxime, too, began to walk away.

==

"Magnificent."

From the VIP box, the king observed the entire scene, slowly clapping as he closed his eyes.

"Truly impressive," Hugo Bern murmured in admiration. The king nodded slowly.

"He has done splendidly. Indeed, he’s proven himself a knight worthy of the investment."

Arsen Bern’s role would end here. Now, it was up to the king to take the reins. Laying out his plans in his mind, the king considered the many uncertainties that lay ahead, yet Arsen had overcome much to bring them to this point.

No, he could no longer be called Arsen Bern. Maxime Apart, you’ve truly done well.

The king thought this as he chuckled softly.

"We can’t be too optimistic just yet, but he deserves a few days to celebrate as the victor."

"That’s rather uncharacteristic of you, Your Majesty."

At Hugo’s response, the king let out a hearty laugh.

"Rewards and punishments must be clear, Hugo. I’ve been working you hard all along, so if you’re dissatisfied, perhaps a holiday would do?"

"With respect, I must decline."

The head of the guard chuckled faintly. Their small talk ended as a tournament official hurried toward the VIP box, prompting the king to regain his dignified demeanor. The official, after offering proper respect, whispered to the king.

"Your Majesty, the award ceremony and closing ceremony preparations are complete."

"Understood. Let them know I’ll be down shortly."

"I humbly obey."

The king turned his gaze back to the arena. Even amidst the crowd’s overwhelming cheers, Maxime did not seem to relish it. He looked as if only one person mattered to him. The resolve Maxime had conveyed to the king had not been in vain.

"Congratulations, Maxime."

The king whispered his congratulations to Maxime, though it would not reach him, and rose from his seat. For a time, the swordsman’s role was over. Now it was time for those wielding quills and strategies to take charge.

"Let’s go."

With a brief command, the king rose. Hugo followed him faithfully, descending from the VIP box.

==

"Did you foresee this outcome?"

The witch’s voice sounded mocking as it reached Leon Bening’s ears. He watched the arena, his gaze cold and filled with rage. Lilia, the witch, felt a shiver down her spine from the chill of his anger.

"Did you?"

"How could I have known? If I had, I’d have done everything in my power to claim that knight for myself."

Theodora had fought with everything she had.

Leon Bening didn’t need to ask her to know that. He had never anticipated a scenario where Theodora, at full strength, would lose. He had half-suspected Arsen Bern was Maxime Apart but hadn’t been certain.

"I should have forced his elimination in the semifinals."

They said he had displayed such overwhelming skill that it was impossible to disqualify him. His loyal follower had made a fatal mistake at the most critical moment.

"What do you plan to do now?"

At Lilia’s question, Leon Bening’s eyes gleamed.

"The plan had already gone awry when Theodora threw her sword into the arena. With the amount I invested in this scheme, the losses from this failure are significant."

Once the tournament concluded, the king would leverage the unwavering public sentiment to strengthen the First Prince’s faction and put pressure on him. But Leon Bening still held a card that could change everything in a single move.

"…I need to begin by cleaning house."

Leon Bening muttered as he rose. It was time to root out the disloyal elements that he thought he had already purged.

Theodora, and Maxime Apart.

He needed to tighten the loosened chains. The fish he’d lost could not be caught again. With a cold, chilling air, Leon Bening rose from his seat.

==

Cheers loud enough to make one’s ears ring echoed through the arena. Despite the pouring snow, the crowd’s fervor showed no signs of waning. The coliseum was swiftly tidied up, and the top three knights of the tournament stood side by side atop the stage.

"Third place, Damian Ro."

Ordinarily, there would have been a match for third place, but semifinalist Javier Franco forfeited, leaving Damian to claim the position by default. The king personally presented the awards, though the third-place knight didn’t seem particularly thrilled.

"May you continue to be a steadfast shield for the kingdom."

"I humbly accept your command."

The king then turned his gaze to the knight who had secured second place. Theodora Bening’s expression was bright and confident, not at all like one who had just lost in the finals. Her expression upon first entering the arena had been solemn and somber. He had expected to see a trace of regret, but there was none.

The king glanced briefly at the champion, Maxime Apart. He knew well the history between Maxime and Theodora Bening.

"Second place, Theodora Bening."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The promising young knight he had first met at the royal palace had now grown into a pillar of the kingdom. As the daughter of Count Bening, perhaps calling her a pillar of the royal palace was an overstatement. The king inwardly chuckled bitterly as he looked at Theodora Bening.

"Though you took second place, your valiant performance was an inspiration to all knights."

"You honor me, Your Majesty."

"May you continue to protect the kingdom with your valor, just as you have done."

"I humbly accept your command."

Now, it was the champion’s turn.

The king looked firmly at Maxime Apart, who stood before him, no longer hiding his true identity from the world.

"First place, Arsen Bern."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Raising his voice for the murmuring crowd to hear, the king declared,

"I will overlook the fact that you entered under a name different from your own. However, from now on, you shall serve this kingdom not as Arsen Bern, but under your true name."

"As you command, Your Majesty."

The king’s warm smile quelled the crowd’s murmurs, which soon turned into excited cheers.

"With knights like you defending the royal palace, how reassuring it is. Today is indeed a joyous day for me."

The king placed a hand on Maxime’s shoulder.

"Congratulations on your victory. I hope you will continue to be the kingdom’s sharpest blade, protecting the crown and the people."

The king’s declaration sounded like a challenge directed at someone. Maxime knelt, echoing the king’s resolve in a strong voice.

He had grasped the end of the broken thread. Now, all that remained was for Maxime to continue weaving it forward.

"I humbly accept your command."

==

The 120th Martial Tournament concluded with a powerful impression that would linger in everyone’s memories. There had been unexpected interruptions, semifinals forfeitures, and even nail-biting moments when it seemed the finals might end with one competitor arriving just in time.

The finals, which unfolded in the end, became one of the most captivating duels ever seen, entrancing the crowd with a display of martial artistry and beauty. People praised the spectacle in unison, and the names Theodora and Arsen quickly spread through every corner of the capital.

"But I heard that knight’s real name is Maxime Apart?"

"Apparently, he registered under a different name. I even heard his face and hair color changed during the match."

"They say there were reasons for it, and His Majesty allowed it, so there’s nothing to be done about it. Even the tournament organizers seemed hesitant to comment on it."

Of course, the fact that Arsen Bern’s true name was Maxime Apart, and that he had fought in disguise, wasn’t of much concern to the citizens of the capital.

"By the way, wasn’t the winning knight part of the First Prince’s guard?"

"I’d heard he didn’t have much presence in the royal family, but perhaps it’s time he starts showing himself as a true contender for the throne."

The victory of the Second Guard’s knight essentially served as a victory for the First Prince. People spoke of the First Prince more often, and as discussions of the tournament spread, so too did the talks of succession among the mature princes.

"…So, who do you think will be the next in line for the throne?"

"It has to be the First Prince, doesn’t it? He’s the eldest, after all."

"True. But don’t you think there must be a reason His Majesty hasn’t officially named a successor yet?"

While these were the discussions among the citizens, the capital’s nobility spoke in different tones.

"You know how crucial the New Year’s Ball will be this time, right?"

"Of course. Anyone who watched the tournament would know. It was basically a battleground between the factions supporting the three princes and the princess. We’ll need to be cautious about where we pledge our support."

"Regardless, I think it’s safe to assume the Second Prince, with Count Bening’s backing, is the frontrunner. Just look at what happened this past fall…."

"Shh! Be careful with what you say. What if someone overhears you?"

The upcoming New Year’s Ball would follow the tournament, with all the nobles’ attention now fixed on the social scene, a battlefield in its own right.