Poor Noble Nord’s Adventure

Epilogue

Gong… Gong…

The great bell of the church rings.

Its sound echoes throughout the capital, announcing to the kingdom’s people, who are celebrating the arrival of spring, the birth of a new couple.

The decorations, adorned with splendid designs, exude a sacred aura, silently conveying to onlookers that this is a special place.

Indeed, all those gathered in this space—inside the ceremonial hall known as the Chamber of Blessings, deep within the church—must be feeling the same as Nord.

A single crimson carpet runs through the room, which is dominated by a white color scheme.

On the right side stand the groom’s relatives, while the bride’s family is seated on the opposite side.

Everyone is focused on one point.

There, at the top of several steps, sits the altar.

Behind the altar stands an old man, dressed in garments lavishly adorned with intricate embroidery.

The golden-threaded patterns indicate that he is a high priest of the religious order widely revered in the Kingdom of Hamill.

The priest addresses the two before him—a bride and groom, both dressed in magnificent ceremonial attire.

“───────”

“─────”

The bride and groom respond.

Their exchange is conducted in a sacred language called “Divine Speech,” unfamiliar in the everyday life of the Hamill Kingdom.

When the priest finishes the ritual dialogue, he murmurs an incantation.

A veil of light descends over the altar, enveloping the bride and groom.

The veil gradually dissolves into their bodies…

The attendees responded with thunderous applause.

The earlier ceremony was the Blessing Rite, a magical ritual performed at noble weddings in the Hamill Kingdom, meant to invoke a divine blessing for the couple’s health and prosperity.

The newlyweds, slightly embarrassed, descend the crimson carpet.

Hand in hand, they walk past the gathered attendees.

Step by step, under the rain of applause, they proceed along the red carpet leading outside the temple.

Among the attendees on the bride’s side, Nord quietly watches their figures.

Strangely, Nord alone is wearing a gray hooded cloak pulled low over his face, but no one seems to notice.

§

“Uh… the groom… the bride…”

After the temple ceremony, the bride, groom, and their guests relocated to a new venue.

They now gathered at a noble’s mansion located in a corner of the capital—a familiar place to the bride’s family, the Felis estate, which also served as her childhood home.

The unnecessarily large garden, befitting the status of a noble family, was impeccably maintained by the Felis household staff, led by their steward, Alec.

The large tables set up in the garden were covered with a spread of food, and the attendees sat crowded into their seats.

Though only a lower noble house, the Felis estate, which had long stood in the capital, boasted considerable size.

Even so, the space felt cramped under the number of guests in attendance, most of whom seemed to be on the bride’s side.

(So many people came… I’m happy for you, Sister Hanna.)

Nord glanced toward the bride and groom’s table set up in the garden.

There, his sister Hanna was smiling as she listened to the host’s congratulatory speech.

Dressed in a stunning gown adorned with brilliant decorations, she looked every bit the most radiant bride in all of Ilva.

Even without familial bias, her beauty was breathtaking.

Some of the unmarried women among the guests appeared lost in daydreams, likely envisioning their own weddings.

Nord heard his younger sisters murmur softly, “I wish I could be like that,” making him smile warmly.

He chose to ignore a nearby aunt who muttered, “I used to be quite the beauty myself…”

The groom, a nobleman with a sincere demeanor, was a handsome man, perfectly suited to his new role.

Nord watched the scene with deep emotion.

He noticed his mother, Maria, dabbing the corners of her eyes with a handkerchief as she held back tears of joy.

The speeches continued.

Though Nord wasn’t particularly interested in the emotional words, he cherished the atmosphere—the sight of his sister in her bridal gown and the warm spirit of celebration.

Even the speech from the unfamiliar nobleman, the groom’s superior, seemed meaningful in this moment.

Then, a shrill voice pierced the joyful atmosphere of the reception.

“Kyui! Kyui!”

The high-pitched cries interrupted the host’s speech, drawing all eyes toward the source.

“Kyuu♪ Kyuu♪”

“Y-you were asleep just a moment ago…!”

The sound came from within Nord’s cloak.

Emerging from under the hood was a small creature, not human—a young wyvern, its scales shining a bright green like fresh leaves.

In a flustered voice, Nord tried to calm the little dragon.

The guests’ attention was now fully focused on the wyvern and Nord, who was desperately trying to soothe it.

“Oh… that must be…”

“The new…”

“The third son of the Felis family, is it…”

“From the Iron Dragon Knights, I hear…”

Whispers spread throughout the gathering.

Yet the gazes and murmurs, though filled with curiosity, contained no malice or scorn for the breach of decorum.

Even the older nobleman who had been interrupted, as well as the groom, seemed more intrigued than annoyed.

As always, Hanna wore a gentle smile.

“Kyuu? Kyuu?”

“Be quiet, will you?”

Nord scolded the little wyvern in a low, urgent whisper, but the young dragon, being so recently born, could not grasp his intent.

It only knew how to eat, sleep, and play with its beloved parent, Nord.

The idea of remaining quiet for a wedding was beyond its comprehension.

In fact, the wyvern seemed more curious about why everyone was staring at them.

“Oh, come on, get it together.”

Help came from the side in the form of Nord’s six-year-old sister, Iris.

Having celebrated her birthday shortly before this spring wedding, she was the apple of Nord’s eye.

Iris grabbed a piece of food from a nearby table and held it up to the wyvern’s snout, saying, “Here you go, say ahhh.”

The wyvern sniffed the delicious aroma and eagerly devoured the morsel.

After taking the food into its mouth, it tucked itself back into the makeshift pouch inside Nord’s cloak and began nibbling contentedly.

“Ah, sorry about that.”

With the wyvern calmed, Nord bowed apologetically to the host.

The older nobleman resumed his speech as if nothing had happened, and the other guests also turned their attention back to the proceedings.

“Thanks, you really helped me out,” Nord whispered to Iris.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered back, puffing out her chest proudly.

To prevent any further disruptions, Nord discreetly grabbed small portions of food and slipped them into the pouch inside his cloak.

The little wyvern happily crunched away, the sound of its beak faint but audible.

Once it had eaten its fill, it lost interest in the last morsel and curled up inside the pouch, drifting off to sleep once more.

§