Leo’s voice resonated through the council hall.
"We shall establish two branches of the military:
Dalton Guardians — responsible for city defense, law and order, and large-scale army operations.Dalton Knights — responsible for elite strikes, foreign reconnaissance, decapitation missions, and the neutralization of the highest-level individual threats."
The hall held its breath.
"Appointments!"
Leo’s gaze was sharp as lightning.
"Elizabeth!"
"Here!"
Elizabeth stepped forward, tall and proud, radiating heroic vigor.
"You are appointed Commander of the Dalton Guardians!
You will oversee all ground, aerial, and magical forces, shape the city’s defensive strategies, and in wartime hold the highest command."
"Elizabeth accepts! I will not fail the trust our lord places in me!"
She received from Leo a magical insignia, symbol of supreme command. Her eyes burned with battle-fire. This was the arena where she excelled and where she longed to prove herself.
Leo turned his wrist, and a tome appeared—massive, its cover forged of shattered starlight, glowing with the radiance of slaughter and wisdom.
The Codex of Stellar Maneuvers.
"I grant you this codex. Study it well. May you forge, in time, an invincible army for Dalton Town."
The book’s emergence filled the hall with awe. The laws of war, the distilled wisdom of ages, bled from its pages—every veteran present felt their souls quiver, as though glimpsing the pinnacle of military art.
Elizabeth’s hands trembled as she received it. She knew this book would forever change her understanding of warfare.
"Aragis!"
"Here!"
Aragis stepped forward, his armor ringing, an overwhelming aura filling the air.
"You are appointed Captain of the Dalton Knights.
You will forge and lead our most elite corps. Your lance shall tear down every barrier in Dalton’s path."
"Aragis accepts! This lance will sound for our lord and for Dalton!"
He dropped to one knee, voice resounding like iron.
Leo summoned the astral lance that had once been broken and reforged. He let liquid light of Sunfine Gold and Stellar Mithril pour into its core. In moments, it was remade—longer, sharper, radiant with living starlight.
As Aragis grasped it, the light fused with him, his aura surging.
The crushing might of an Astral Envoy erupted, suffocating the chamber. Everyone save Leo and Lilith struggled to breathe, as though a primeval beast had fixed its gaze upon them.
Even Elarielle, who had advanced farther than most in three millennia, paled. The gulf between her and Aragis’s rank—four whole tiers—was immeasurable.
"This lance is reforged. Wield it well."
"I will not dishonor it!"
Aragis’s eyes blazed with vengeance and loyalty entwined.
"Reize Blake!"
"Here!"
Reize strode forth, arcs of lightning leaping across his body.
"You are appointed Vice-Captain of the Dalton Knights, to aid Aragis and lead the Thunder Mage Corps. This weapon I grant you—"
From Leo’s hand came a wild, thunder-forged blade: the Stormpulse Warblade.
Lightning flared throughout the hall as it appeared, triggering Aerial City’s very circuits.
Reize clasped it, and lightning mana resonated in perfect harmony. His strength surged instantly.
"Thank you, my lord! I, Reize, will give all I have!"
Leo’s gaze turned to the shadows.
"Walter."
From the darkness stepped a figure almost invisible against it—leader of an assassin race Leo had saved from a dying system. His rank: Astral Archmage.
"I am here, my lord."
"You are appointed Minister of Intelligence—to oversee internal security, external espionage, infiltration, and counterintelligence. This is yours."
Into Walter’s hands fell the Shadow of the Voidwalker, a cloak so thin it could vanish in shadow and space itself.
"You will be Dalton’s unseen eyes and ears."
"As you command."
Walter bowed low, reverently.
"Coles..."
One by one, Leo continued his appointments. With each, a divine weapon appeared, each so astonishing that the crowd gasped.
To them, Leo seemed to hand out miracles as though they were sweets. Their awe of his unfathomable depth only grew.
Yet Leo knew: military might was but a foundation.
A true power must thrive in every domain.
"Second proposal: to perfect our administration, and appoint leaders to each branch."
His voice was steady, absolute.
"Department of Commerce and Trade — Minister: Sarah Morris, daughter of Mrs. Morris.
You are given the Golden Key of a Thousand Sails. With it, you may marshal all Dalton’s funds. Prosper our markets; open our roads."
Sarah, once a grocer’s child, stepped forward, trembling with excitement.
"Department of Agriculture — Minister: Kubi Hans.
You are given the Staff of Plenty. Dalton’s breadbasket—and in time, the sustenance of worlds—rests with you."
Kubi, simple and sturdy, received the staff reverently.
"Department of Food and Potion Research — Minister: Yanna Timan.
You are given the Universal Harmonizing Cauldron. May you bring forth delights and medicines alike."
Yanna’s cheeks glowed red; she hugged the cauldron with joy.
One by one, departments took form: alchemy, rune-forging, urban works, medical orders... each leader armed with treasures matched to their calling.
Finally, Leo’s eyes lifted to the Spire of Heaven, symbol of knowledge and wisdom. His words rang through the council:
"Third proposal—and the cornerstone of Dalton Town’s eternal order: the establishment of separation of powers."
A hush fell. The phrase was foreign, but the hall buzzed with awe.
"Our pursuit of strength must rest within a framework of order, lest power and authority corrupt.
Three powers: executive, legislative, judicial. Independent, balanced, yet cooperative. Only thus can Dalton endure, vital and just through endless ages."
"One: the Executive Power shall lie with the Presidency.
I, Leo Grey, shall hold the office of President. The President stands outside the system, supreme leader and steward of the city’s course."
Faces shone with fervor. This was destiny.
"Magnar!"
Leo looked to his loyal butler, now vigorous.
"You are appointed Vice President of Dalton. You shall coordinate departments, manage daily affairs, and answer to me and to Elarielle."
The old man bowed deeply.
"This servant shall devote all I have, to lighten your burdens!"
Magnar’s eyes brimmed with duty—and a faint, awed disbelief.