Fate glanced around. The floor gleamed like silk brocade. Plush sofas upholstered in luxurious silk lined the space. Two bottles of deep crimson wine rested on the dining table. Soft light from the crystal chandelier glinted across priceless oil paintings, while candlelight flickered gently on the silver stand, adding quiet elegance to the room.

This top-tier private suite—adorned in deep crimson and neon accents—crafted its ambiance masterfully. Stepping inside, an aura of opulence washed over him.

Such a suite had to be extravagantly priced, far beyond what an ordinary family could afford. But since others had always treated him before, he’d never paid much attention to the cost.

Fate’s gaze settled on Nia, seated across the jade table.

Choosing a private room over the main hall meant she had much to say.

Silently, he watched her hand the menu to the waiter.

The door clicked shut behind the staff. The room fell into a silence so deep, a pin dropping would ring clear.

“May I… ask you to remove your helmet now?” Nia’s eyes locked onto the faint gaze visible through the helmet’s slit. Though nearly certain, she needed confirmation.

…

No point hiding anymore. His identity was already uncovered. Christine’s pendant couldn’t mimic anyone but himself. Better to be honest.

He hesitated briefly. Then, slowly placing all ten fingers before the helmet, he lifted it off.

“Master…?” Nia shot to her feet, eyes wide. “It really is you?!”

Her voice brimmed with joy and disbelief—and a trace of confusion.

*Master… how could he look younger?*

She’d seen his face countless times. Time had left its marks—subtle, but there. This face was undeniably his… yet…

Too young. Exactly like her master from twenty years ago—a vibrant, handsome youth in his prime.

Relief warred with bewilderment.

*How did he win the Revival Tournament? Why younger after? Why become a clergyman in some remote city instead of returning?*

Nia, usually calm, let the questions settle in her eyes after the initial joy faded.

Fate knew she had many doubts. He’d answer them all—he needed her silence.

“Hmm… long time no see.” After a pause, the words came out simple. He’d never been good with speeches.

“You… you truly haven’t… passed away?” She’d almost said *died*, but swapped it for something gentler.

Fate gave a slight shake of his head.

*How?* … *Was the one buried not him?*

No. She was certain. Empress Beatrice herself had laid Fate to rest. No mistake.

But why?

“You seem full of questions,” Fate said plainly, seeing her hesitation. “Ask.”

“Master—how did you resurrect? And escape the imperial mausoleum?” Freed by his words, Nia no longer held back.

“I never died. Leaving the mausoleum… took certain means.” He offered no details. Nia understood—he wouldn’t elaborate.

“Then… why not return to see Her Majesty?”

Silence stretched.

“Not meeting her is better for her. And for me.” His reply was deliberately vague.

“Let the past stay buried. I’m no longer a knight. Certainly not the Dawnbreaker Knight.”

“You… won’t continue as a knight?” Nia blinked in shock. “Do you feel wronged? But the continent has exonerated you!”

“The world thrives now. Doesn’t peace mean the Dawnbreaker Knight’s duty is done?” Leaning back, Fate gazed out the window. His eyes held a carefree light Nia had never seen. “Prosperity blooms everywhere. In tranquil times, even heroes retire.”

Watching him, Nia realized shedding that weight wasn’t loss—it was peace. His brow was smooth. His posture, lighter.

After a few exchanges, his speech, his gestures—everything confirmed it. This youth, seemingly her age, was truly her master: the Dawnbreaker Knight.

Whatever miracle brought him back, he was alive, younger, and genuinely content.

“I have my reasons for staying away,” Fate said after sipping tea. “Beatrice… that girl and I share an old rift. Don’t be fooled by her grand funeral for me. If she knew I lived? She’d lose sleep.”

Empress Beatrice Nolanthiel of the Karno Empire—he’d raised her himself. He knew her nature. Even as Grand Guardian General, he saw her eyes fixed on his power, relentless in her quest to reclaim it and avenge her father. That hunger drove her.

And she was a once-in-a-millennium genius.

Mental discipline, magic, statecraft, court etiquette—if she willed it, she mastered it swiftly and deeply.

Guided right, a legendary sage-empress. Led astray, a tyrant.

Even during his regency, she’d quietly built her own faction.

Fate knew. He simply let it be—and was pleased she showed such skill so young.

After the coup, she honored him as Regent with flawless deference, as if forgetting he’d slain her father.

He saw through it: a temporary mask. Until strong enough, she’d stay docile as a kitten, claws sheathed.

She thought her obedience earned his trust.

He knew he’d been testing her all along—slowly handing her the empire’s reins.

And she passed every trial flawlessly.

Knowing Her Highness had become a truly capable Empress of the Karno Empire, Fate surrendered his power… and left without a word.