Morning light softly filtered through the curtains.

  Hiro lay on his side beneath the blanket. He slowly opened his eyes and yawned.

  “That was some good sleep…” he muttered.

  He turned onto his other side.

  And froze.

  Rosalin lay in front of him in her nightwear, quietly breathing in her sleep. Her hair was scattered across the pillow, her face calm — without the usual mask of pride and sharpness.

  Hiro’s eyes widened.

  God… how did I even end up here…?

  At that moment Rosalin stirred, opened her eyes, and noticing his gaze, lazily smiled.

  “Sleep well?” she asked softly.

  “Y-yeah…” Hiro swallowed. “Go… good.”

  She propped herself up on her elbow.

  “What time is it?”

  Hiro turned his head toward the wall clock.

  “Around nine in the morning.”

  “WHAT?!” Rosalin shot out of bed. “Nine already?! Damn, damn, damn! We leave in an hour!”

  “There’s still a whole hour,” Hiro said calmly, sitting up.

  “Do you not understand?!” She rushed around the room. “Wash up, get ready, dress properly, pack my things— damn it!”

  “Relax,” Hiro snorted. “You look stunning even like this.”

  Rosalin stopped and turned toward him, narrowing her eyes.

  “Well, I’m glad I enchant you even in this state,” she said, “but I am still a princess. And we’re not going to a village — we’re going to the capital.”

  Suddenly she frowned.

  “By the way… how exactly do you wash up in the mornings?”

  “You’re better off not knowing,” Hiro replied, getting out of bed.

  He stretched, fixed himself up, and headed for the door.

  “Alright,” he said before leaving. “I’ll go check if the carriages are here.”

  The door closed.

  Rosalin remained alone in the room, her gaze lingering for a second on the crumpled pillow…

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  and she smiled faintly.

  ---

  Torgrim and Lara walked across snow-covered plains.

  Snow crunched beneath their boots. The wind was cold and dry. The sky pale, almost colorless.

  After passing through a narrow opening in the rocks, they emerged on the other side.

  Here, the snow was already melting. Snowdrops pierced through the damp soil.

  Red birds flew through the air.

  The sun shone brighter.

  A little farther — and the snow vanished entirely. The ground turned sandy, covered with grass, without a single tree in sight.

  A butterfly fluttered past Lara.

  She smiled and ran after it, arms outstretched. Tried to catch it — missed.

  Torgrim stood still, watching until her little amusement ended.

  Then they continued together.

  Soon a cliff opened before them. Below — the ocean.

  In the distance, another continent could be seen.

  And above the horizon floated an island with buildings upon it.

  Torgrim stepped onto an overgrown platform of carved marble embedded in the earth. Lara stood beside him.

  The platform began to glow.

  It gently lifted from the ground and started ascending toward the island.

  The wind tugged at their cloaks and hair.

  Torgrim’s face remained unreadable.

  When the platform reached the island and landed, they stepped off.

  All around were numerous buildings. Marble columns. Ancient lamps that ignited only in the presence of living beings. The silence was majestic.

  They entered the main building, pushing open massive double doors.

  In the center of the hall stood a huge round table. Several people sat around it in conversation.

  “Have you heard?” said Rei, a young S-rank mage known as the “God of Art.” His golden hair shimmered in the lamplight, amber eyes bright with curiosity. “It seems the Kingdom of Moonlight has unearthed technology. I wonder what they plan to do with it.”

  Magnus, an adult S-rank mage, the “God of Wisdom,” with a blue beard and gray eyes, replied irritably:

  “You know we do not interfere in politics.”

  “Oh really?” Rei smirked. “I thought we stopped caring about the Code. Especially after the Eleventh insulted us.”

  He gestured toward an empty chair, covered in dust.

  “And now his seat just gathers dust.”

  “That’s different!” Magnus snapped. “The Eleventh is a separate matter. You should already know what our duty is.”

  Ilmira, a woman around forty with silver hair, blue eyes, and a bandage over her left eye — S-rank, the “Goddess of Stars” — rested her head in her hands.

  “Enough arguing… you’re giving me a headache.”

  Torgrim spoke firmly:

  “How is Hope (Nadezhda)?”

  Rei and Magnus fell silent.

  Ilmira raised her head.

  “Torgrim… decided to visit us?” She stood. “Come. That’s far better than listening to them.”

  They exited through another door.

  Outside lay a neatly paved path, trimmed lawns, fountains, marble statues.

  Ilmira walked beside Torgrim and Lara.

  “She’s training with Duncan right now. She’s progressing quite well. Might soon master the sixth tier of the offensive sword style. She’s already passed sixth level air, lightning, and fire magic. Earth, water, and ice are more difficult. Nature, blood, domination, and light magic we decided not to teach. Some are forbidden, others require long meditations… and she—”

  A boom.

  The ground trembled.

  “Don’t attack recklessly!” Duncan’s strict voice rang out. “Think your actions through! Don’t let emotions cloud your head!”

  “I’m trying!” a young female voice shouted back.

  Ilmira finished calmly:

  “…has an explosive temper.”

  Torgrim looked ahead.

  “Hope (Nadezhda) must fulfill her task.”

  Ilmira answered quietly:

  “It would be better… if she never had to.”

  ---

  Hiro stood outside and took a deep breath.

  The air was fresh. Cool.

  Puddles reflected the sky, and the cobblestones still glistened from moisture. It must have rained during the night.

  Only now did he fully remember what had happened.

  Rosalin’s tea had been far too relaxing. She grew sleepy almost immediately. She lay down, and Hiro had intended to quietly leave…

  Then a storm began.

  Thunder split the sky.

  Rosalin tossed in her sleep and softly called someone’s name.

  He approached, placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her.

  But she suddenly pulled him toward her and clung tightly.

  And so he stayed.

  And so he had to sleep beside her.

  The sound of wheels pulled him from his thoughts.

  Four carriages had arrived.

  A few seconds later Rosalin stepped out of the dormitory. She wore a beautiful, clearly expensive dress — refined, delicately embroidered. She carried herself unmistakably like a princess.

  She approached Hiro, took his hand, and led him to the third carriage.

  They climbed inside.

  “Why four?” Hiro asked.

  “So that if we’re attacked,” Rosalin replied calmly, “there’s a chance it won’t be ours that takes the hit.”

  Hiro nodded.

  He turned to the window.

  They had roughly a day’s journey ahead.

  Plenty of time.

  The carriage moved smoothly, stopping only occasionally — to check the horses, change harnesses, confirm the time.

  Rosalin sat upright and composed, as though she were already at court. Back straight. Chin slightly raised.

  She was clearly making an effort to look dignified.

  Hiro remained silent.

  As night fell, the carriage dimmed into half-darkness. Stars gradually appeared outside the window.

  Rosalin began to nod off.

  A few minutes later, her head gently rested on Hiro’s shoulder.

  He didn’t move.

  He kept looking out the window.

  ?What an incredible world…? he thought.

  ?It’s a shame my past life turned out the way it did. Just when I thought I’d found happiness, and then…?

  He closed his eyes for a moment.

  ?At least I saved Maria. I hope she’s alright.?

  Rosalyn sneezed softly.

  Lights from small settlements flickered in the distance.

  ?And still…?

  A faint smile touched his lips.

  ?I’m glad I was reborn in this world.?

  The carriage continued on.

  The night sky stretched above the road — deep, endless, filled with stars.

  ---

  P.S.

  This is probably the perfect moment for the camera to pull back to the starry night sky… and the words appear:

  Becoming the God of the Void

  -