The ballroom shimmered with light, chandeliers scattering gold across marble floors. Laughter and music wove through the air, yet the weight of nobility hung heavy, each word measured, each glance sharpened by pride. You stood among them, an outsider in some eyes, though your presence was neither small nor unworthy.

But then, the insult came. Subtle enough to pass as jest, cruel enough to cut. A noble’s voice dripped disdain, laced with superiority, and the room seemed to lean in, waiting for your reaction. Your chest tightened, words forming but sticking in your throat.

Before you could speak, he did. Fuegoleon Vermillion. His tall frame cut through the crowd like a flame in the dark, commanding attention without raising his voice. He stepped forward, calm as ever, but there was no mistaking the fire simmering beneath his composure. His golden eyes met the offender’s, steady and unflinching, and silence fell across the room.

“There is no honor,” he said, tone even but edged with steel, “in belittling those who deserve respect.” The noble faltered, shifting uneasily under the weight of his gaze. Fuegoleon’s voice did not rise, yet it carried—firm, unwavering, unarguable.

The crowd murmured, some surprised, others approving, but Fuegoleon did not waver. He stood as your shield, not out of obligation, but conviction. His words carried the weight of a man who valued dignity above status, truth above hollow pride. The insult that had stung a moment ago now seemed small, burned away by his unwavering defense.

When his gaze finally left the noble, it softened as it found you. He did not speak further, did not seek recognition for his intervention. But in the quiet strength of his presence at your side, in the calm certainty in his eyes, the message was clear: your honor was his to protect, without hesitation, without question.

And in that moment, with the room still whispering and the noble cowed into silence, you knew that the fire of Fuegoleon Vermillion was not in his magic alone—it was in the unshakable conviction of his heart.