First Year of the Holy Calendar, the bitter month of winter, the thirty-first day. Royal Capital of Escarnia, Outer City District.
"In another three hours, the time for the inaugural ceremony, as decreed by the King, will arrive, right?"
"Yes, from today onward, the city beneath our feet will cast off the old name bestowed by the Despicable King Vortigern and will be crowned with a brand-new name—Sacred City 'Camelot'."
"I heard from my uncle, who serves as a reserve knight in the Knights of the Round Table, that the King, oh no, I should refer to him as His Majesty now."
"It is said that His Majesty will name this fresh new nation 'Fresta Empire'..."
The streets were filled with the chatter of the people, tinged with joy and excitement.
At this moment, the common people still wore an expression of relief, just having emerged from a state of war. After all, it had only been a year since the campaign that saw the Despicable King slain, pinned to his throne. This land had only just been freed from centuries of incessant warfare, peace had only just descended, and the scorched earth trampled by Abyss Demons, The Rebels, and bandits was still in ruins, awaiting revival. Every surviving victim still clearly remembered the recent turmoil, scars that only the passage of time can heal.
Yet even so, their faces still bore a look of hopeful yearning. Yearning for that promised ideal nation, the one the King vowed to establish.
"It's just a pity that Cain couldn't see this, the nation he yearned for and crafted with his life—the ideal nation without famine, without refugees, where everyone can live and work in peace and contentment," someone murmured softly.
The crowd that was previously buzzing with excitement over the upcoming inaugural ceremony became somewhat subdued in an instant.
"Indeed—"
Someone took out a long robe with a black ground and red clouds, wearing it with a look of remembrance and sadness in their eyes.
"He once witnessed the darkest night, thus his yearning for that fervent light."
At this very moment.
It had been several years since the battle at the Valley of the End, since the Spear of Damnation that pierced the heavens descended. But the name of Cain, and that of the Daybreak Organization, had not diminished even slightly with his death in battle. In fact, under the active promotion of the Knight King and the Alliance Forces, the meaning of Cain and 'the Daybreak that changed the world,' spread at an astonishing speed to every resident of Escarnia. Even if resources were not abundant, nobles, knights, and even commoners—a good number of them acquired the uniform of the Daybreak Organization, becoming supporters of Daybreak.
And Cain, the founder, is no longer just a historical figure who died in battle to the people these days. Instead, through endless remembrance, singing, and fermentation among the populace, he had become a symbol, even a belief.
"Huh?"
Suddenly, someone sighed lightly, their gaze landing near the city gates.
There stood a youth with black hair and eyes, a tall and upright figure, dressed in a simple overcoat. By his side was a girl, also with black hair and wearing a black dress. Her eyes were hazy, veiled by the evening shadows. Beneath her skirt, she wore black stockings and sheepskin boots.
The two walked through the city gates, passing through the streets, and quickly disappeared into the swift-moving stream of people.
"What's wrong?"
"No, nothing..." The person turned their head back.
With the upcoming inaugural ceremony and the completion of Sacred City Camelot, many residents from foreign lands headed to the Royal Capital, either to relocate or to attend the inaugural ceremony, which was not that unusual. What actually caught his interest was the color of their hair. The mainstream hair color in Escarnia was either brown or gold, and black-haired ethnicities were fairly rare, only found in the Northern Territory and the Golden Plains.
Of course, this alone was not surprising... but according to the information that circulated in the Knights of the Round Table and the oath-sworn families—Cain, who usually wore a whirlpool mask, had black hair. Even the figure of the youth bore some resemblance to the statues in the Hall of Heroic Spirits and the painting by Her Majesty the Empress herself, depicting the scene of Cain's battle in the Valley of the End, which was titled "Daybreak," showing a figure with his back turned to all living beings.
But soon, the person shook their head, dismissing this somewhat absurd notion from their mind.
"They look like siblings from a minority ethnic group... probably travelers from The North or the Golden Plains, here to watch the inaugural ceremony," he responded casually, his gaze returning to the Robe of Daybreak in his hands, his heart filling once again with sadness and remembrance.
Even if their appearances and attire were so similar, that was not Cain. Cain had died, on the darkest night before dawn.
His voice was heavy as he spoke each word with reverence.
"Cain, can you see this? This prosperous era is just as you wished."
...
"To think passersby would mistake us for siblings, that's utterly against the natural order."
Shiayar walked through the streets of the city, both familiar and strange, with Augutina beside him, hearing the remarks of the commoners carried by the breeze to his ears.
Even though separated by a thousand years, this was undoubtedly Camelot.