Under the Orange Flag

Aelira wiped her tears.

The past month had been the worst time of her life.

Her brother - though they had never been particularly close - was dead. Her mother, the one person she had truly loved and relied on, was gone. The head of the family, Alaric Windwalker, had perished. And Windwalker City, the grandest city of their lineage, had been reduced to ruins.

It wasn't an exaggeration to say her world had been utterly shattered.

Yet, despite everything, she concealed her grief.

Before her death, Lyria - her mother - had entrusted her with the leadership of the city. It was now her duty to protect what remained.

But the task was anything but easy.

When word of Windwalker City's destruction reached them a few days ago, panic swept through the people like wildfire. A riot broke out. Even the city guards wavered, and some knights questioned their loyalty to the Windwalker family. Worse still, the contracted guards and mercenary knights - those temporarily hired to fill vacant positions - abandoned their posts and fled.

Fortunately, the Great Knights remained steadfast. Not a single one attempted a coup or sought to seize control of the city. After all, with Lyria presumed dead, there was no Silver Knight left to keep the Great Knights in check. Whether out of loyalty or fear, they chose to stand by Aelira. With their support, she managed to suppress the riot.

But to prevent further desertion and panic, she had no choice but to declare martial law and seal the city gates.

Even now, whispers of the monstrous being that had destroyed Windwalker City spread like poison through the streets. Some claimed it would come for them next, fueling paranoia and inciting further unrest.

She had considered arresting those who spread such rumors. But after careful thought, she realized it would only make things worse. Silencing them would give their words more weight, not less.

Instead, she chose honesty.

She called for a city hall meeting, gathering all the influential figures within the city. And there, she told them everything she knew about what had happened to Windwalker City.

It was enough to steady the upper echelon, though the common folk still clung to their fears and fabrications. But there was little she could do about that.

She had locked down the city to stop people from fleeing in terror. She had considered opening the gates, allowing those who wished to leave to do so.

But not yet. Not until things had calmed.

For now, the city would remain shut.

Because if she faltered - if she lost control - the last remnants of the Windwalker legacy would crumble.

And that was something she could not allow.

Fortunately, in the last few days, the monster had vanished.

But even so, no one dared to think of rebuilding Windwalker City.

Few who had witnessed the creature survived, and those that did were left broken - hollowed by fear. The Great Knights of Eagle's Perch City had captured a handful of survivors and interrogated them about the monster's power. Yet even hearing their stammered, fragmented accounts was enough to terrify seasoned warriors.

A monster that could level a building with a single slap.

At the very least, it possessed the strength of a Golden-ranked being. Perhaps even Legendary.

This was another reason for the lockdown - to remain hidden. If too many people left the city, they might inadvertently lead the monster straight to them.

For now, Aelira's priority was to keep the city quiet, concealed in the shadows, until the situation stabilized.

She could only hope that the Bloodstone Kingdom would take care of it. After all, no matter how powerful the noble houses were, the royal family ultimately ruled this land.

Surely the king himself would deal with the beast.

No matter how strong the creature was, the king should be stronger.

So, she wasn't too worried about the survival of the kingdom itself. Her greatest concern was her family - the ones she had lost.

The weight of grief pressed on her chest, but she pushed it down. There was still work to do.

Standing up, she prepared to hand her newest orders to the Silver Knights: to open the castle's reserves and distribute good food to the people. Morale was dangerously low, and they needed something - anything - to hold on to.

Just as she turned to leave, a voice called her name.

"Aelira."

She froze.

That voice…

It couldn't be.

Slowly, almost fearfully, she turned toward the source of the voice.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Mother?"

There, standing before her, was Lyria.

Aelira stared, unable to move, unable to believe her own eyes. For a long moment, she simply stood in shock. But then, disbelief gave way to reality.

She was alive.

Of course, her mother's death had never been confirmed. They had assumed her dead because… how could anyone, even a Silver Knight, survive that? The city had been razed to the ground, reduced to ashes. The streets had become mountains of corpses. No one could have lived through such devastation.

And yet, here she was.

Tears welled in Aelira's eyes as she rushed forward, throwing her arms around her mother.

"Mother, you're alive!"

Lyria gently held her, as if trying to soothe her trembling daughter. "Aelira… what happened? Why is the orange flag raised?"

Aelira clung to her, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I thought you were dead… I thought I lost you…" Her voice broke as the weight of everything she had endured came crashing down at once.

She had lost so much in the past few days. And yet, she had forced herself to remain strong - for the city, for the people who depended on her. She had locked away her grief, buried it deep within, because there had been no one to lean on.

But now…

Now, her mother was back.

Now, she could let it all out.

And so, Aelira cried - freely, intensely, without restraint - because, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, she didn't have to carry everything alone.

Aelira was not a ruthless ruler.

Even when managing the treasury, she was constantly frustrated that they couldn't allocate more funds toward education and healthcare for ordinary people. Now, being thrust into a position where she had to make life-and-death decisions weighed heavily on her.

The best leaders were those who could quickly choose the lesser evil, even if it meant the loss of many lives. Those who were too affectionate, too ruled by emotion and conscience, were ill-suited for such roles.

Even as treasurer, Aelira had been unhappy. Every decision she made felt like a compromise, forcing her to make painful choices. Yet she had never resigned from her duty. Firstly, because she refused to disappoint her mother again. And secondly, because she feared that anyone who replaced her would only make life harder for ordinary citizens.

She had always done her best to maximize efficiency, ensuring that every available resource was stretched to help as many people as possible. Another treasurer - someone less concerned with the people's well-being - might not care as much as she did.

For better or worse, governance required either cold, purely rational minds or those who could suppress their emotions. In truth, emotions rarely led to good decisions. No matter the situation, one had to see things clearly, with eyes unclouded by sentiment.

After a long moment, Lyria finally spoke.

"What happened while I was gone?"

Aelira, who had just begun to regain her composure, took a deep breath before answering.

"A few days ago, when the news of your death and Windwalker City's destruction spread, people panicked. Some - agitated by instigators - began to riot. Even some knights and city guards deserted their posts and fled. Fortunately, the Great Knights remained loyal to me, and with their help, I was able to suppress the riot." She paused, then added, "To prevent more from running away, I placed the city under lockdown and raised the orange flag."

Lyria listened intently, nodding.

There were five main flags used to signal different crises:

White Flag – Raised when the castle was on the verge of surrender to an invading enemy. Black Flag – Raised when a deadly disease had broken out within the city, barring anyone from entering. Red Flag – Signified an external threat or danger within the city, aside from disease. Green Flag – Used when poisonous or hazardous chemicals were present. Orange Flag – Indicated a complete lockdown of the city.

These flag signals were known only to knights, high-ranking military officers, and top civil officials. They were placed in designated locations to convey the castle's status to those who might be away on missions and unaware of the current situation.

Lyria let out a small smile. "Well, fortunately, the Great Knights didn't disappoint me."

Then, her expression turned serious.

"Call everyone. I have a few plans to announce."

Aelira nodded and hurried off to carry out the order.

Lyria was far from optimistic about the fate of the Bloodstone Kingdom. Not even the king himself might be able to defeat the monster.

For now, she had decided to remain in this city a while longer, though not out of loyalty or sentiment. She simply had nowhere else to go.

Her ultimate goal was the Flicker Empire, but there was no ship that could take her there at the moment. There were a few smaller islands she could flee to in the meantime, yet finding a vessel was a problem in itself. The Windwalker family's domain was a remote and desolate region - rarely, if ever, visited by ships capable of crossing the Great Sea.

To board a ship, she would have to travel by land for at least two weeks, making her way to the far side of the kingdom. And such a journey required careful preparation.

She lived on an island.

No matter where she planned to go, she needed a ship.

But ordinary ships were not built for the open seas. The lowest class of vessel that could even hope to survive the vast, untamed waters was a Mythic-class ship.

The sea was an unforgiving expanse. Countless dangers lurked beneath the waves - terrifying sea monsters, unpredictable weather patterns, monstrous tides, and deadly tsunamis. Any ordinary vessel would be torn apart within days, if not hours.

Of course, it wasn't entirely impossible for a regular ship to make the journey.

If the gods willed it - if luck itself was on their side - they might just cross the sea without encountering any threats.

But that was the same as gambling one's life on the mercy of the unknown.

And Lyria was not one to leave her fate to chance.