Two years.
Two long, bloody, and healing years.
Akira City stood tall again, its spires gleaming beneath the bright noon sun, its streets bustling with laughter and chatter. The pain of war still lingered in some corners—memorials, battle-scarred walls, empty homes—but the people had reclaimed their lives. Reclaimed their future.
And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, the city was free.
Free of chaos.
Free of tyranny.
For now.
Gimori still breathed in his dark tower. Levine still hunted in the shadows. But their grip was broken. The people of Akira walked unchained.
The Sarutobi Academy had not only survived—it had led the charge in reclaiming the city. The Wardens were now legends, and in celebration, the king himself granted them a city-wide Victory Parade.
And what a parade it had been.
Banners with the academy's sigil waved across rooftops. People lined the streets cheering as Wardens rode through on armored lions and gleaming steel wagons. Children threw petals, and vendors gave out free treats. At the heart of it all rode Xzavier and Zadie—no longer timid recruits, but heroes.
Xzavier, now seventeen, had grown taller and more confident. Though his Sacred Eyes and Ascension Mark were gone, his training had pushed him beyond limits. He'd made peace with the Shadow Blade, turning it from a cursed relic into a deadly extension of his will. His gaze still carried quiet rage, but his steps were lighter these days.
Zadie, now the crown princess in full, had matured into a radiant young woman. Her healing abilities had saved hundreds, and her growing charisma united nobles and commoners alike. Her connection to Xzavier had only deepened over the years—bonds forged in war now blossoming in peace.
After the parade, Xzavier had quickly changed into his custom-made outfit: a sleek black combat jacket embroidered with silver linings, a crimson sash tied at his waist, and lightweight armor hidden beneath. A single obsidian pauldron rested on his left shoulder—stylish, symbolic, and functional. Around his neck hung a faded cord, the last thread of his Warden rank. Not that he needed titles anymore.
He found Zadie waiting near the palace gates, already out of her ceremonial dress and into something more casual—white leggings, a pastel blue blouse, and a silver pendant shaped like a lotus. Her white hair was tied up in a lazy bun, strands falling around her face.
"Fashionably late, as always," she teased.
"You know me," Xzavier smirked. "Gotta make an entrance."
They laughed, and without another word, began their walk toward Good Taste Diner—Akira's most famous and beloved eatery.
---
The diner hadn't changed much since the war. Its red awnings still flapped in the wind, and the sweet smell of grilled meats and spices floated out into the street. Families, nobles, and workers sat together, laughing and eating under hanging lanterns.
They were given the VIP booth, of course—royalty had its perks.
The waiter, flustered, took their orders with shaking hands. Xzavier ordered the triple-spiced beef stew with garlic rice, while Zadie went for the famous honey-glazed fish skewers.
As they waited, they leaned in, whispering and laughing like two teenagers instead of war-scarred warriors.
"I still can't believe the king let me parade through the city," Xzavier said between sips of sweet ginger tea. "I figured he'd still have me cleaning stables."
"Please," Zadie rolled her eyes. "You literally saved the city."
"With help," he said.
She smiled. "You've always been humble."
He gave her a look. "No. I'm still pissed that Levine is alive."
That dark edge crept back into his voice for a moment. Zadie touched his hand.
"I know. But this time is ours. Let's not waste it thinking about him."
Xzavier sighed, then nodded. "You're right."
Their food came, and for a while, there was only the sound of silverware and laughter. For once, there were no bombs, no blood, no blades. Just… peace.
---
Elsewhere in the city, Hageshi was walking through the garden corridors of the academy with Mizuki. The once arrogant fire-user had changed. A little. He still walked with swagger, but now it was less about pride and more about presence.
Mizuki, older by two years, had once called him an annoying brat. Now, she called him worth her time.
They didn't call what they had "dating," but everyone else did. She challenged him in ways no one else did. He liked that.
Today they were walking and bickering about sword styles.
"You rely too much on brute force," Mizuki said, arms crossed.
"And you're too focused on form. In battle, speed kills," Hageshi replied with a grin.
She rolled her eyes but smirked. "Says the guy who slipped in mud last mission."
"You said you'd never bring that up again!"
"Oops."
---
Back at the diner, Zadie and Xzavier were finishing dessert—mango pudding with mint cream.
"I've been thinking," Zadie said softly.
"Dangerous," he teased.
She smiled. "What if… we left Akira for a while? Just traveled. You, me. No titles. No missions."
He looked at her. "Just disappear?"
"Not forever. Just for a few weeks. Maybe see the outer isles, the frost mountains, the floating markets of Yuren…"
Xzavier leaned back, folding his arms. "Tempting."
"Scared you'll fall in love with me if we travel alone?" she said with a smirk.
He grinned. "Too late for that."
She blushed. "You're terrible."
"But you like terrible."
They laughed again, and outside, fireworks lit up the sky—one final tribute to the heroes of Akira.