Prince Elvis rode atop his snow-white wolf Silverwind as his elite cavalry marched through Virelith's gates at dawn. The streets overflowed with townspeople—soldiers and civilians alike had gathered to bid farewell. Flanking the road, the crowd sank to their knees in reverence as he appeared.
"Safe journey to the palace, Your Highness!" a farmer cried out.
"We owe you our lives!" shouted a wounded soldier.
"Thank you for avenging my family!" a grieving woman wept.
From his high perch, Elvis watched the scene unfold. His usual ironclad composure shattered—what would've left him unmoved three days ago now pierced through his defenses like a lance.
Under the silent gazes of his people, the prince rode past the city gates.
"Alderic," Josh smirked, using Elvis's childhood name as he nudge
