Chương 79

Princess Seraphine gently closed the heavy oak doors to the King's bedroom. The First Prince stood waiting in the quiet hallway.

"He is finally sleeping," Seraphine said softly. The Prince let out a relieved breath. The epic soup Rudra cooked had worked a miracle, completely stopping the lethal Imperial poison. But their father was still frail. He needed time to recover.

"Duke Henrick has been asking about the succession again," the Prince noted, crossing his arms.

"Let him ask," Seraphine replied coldly.

"Focus on managing your own borders, Duke." She and the Prince shared a respectful nod. The succession had been officially paused for months now. It was a silent, unbreakable agreement between the siblings to keep the kingdom completely stable while the Saharan Empire moved troops along the borders. Seraphine headed down the hall to her private study. When she walked inside, she locked the door and let her rigid royal posture drop. A massive map of the Murray Kingdom covered her mahogany desk.

A few months ago, Elysia had arrived at the capital and delivered a polite, formal message on Rudra's behalf. The Marquis wanted to use his Royal Writ for a land grant. He needed a territory to build an alchemy tower and a safe haven for his new guests. Seraphine leaned over the map. She was actively trying to find him the perfect spot. It needed to be a strong strategic chokepoint for the kingdom, but it also needed to be packed with high-tier monsters and rare ingredients.

If the food was bad, Rudra would probably just get bored and leave. She walked over to the tall glass window and looked out. At the very edge of the capital sat Rudra's sprawling estate. Seraphine smiled. It was supposed to be a quiet, empty house. Now, it was a heavily armed fortress. Winfred, the legendary Red Sage, ran the estate's defenses perfectly. Elysia swung her sword in the courtyard from dawn till dusk. Nerissa, the Siren Princess, was safely resting in the indoor lakes.

Even Haster, the Immortal who became the Sage's Disciple, treated the place like his personal inn, dropping in and leaving for days at a time. Rudra didn't play noble politics. He didn't scheme or lie. He just treated people with honest respect, fed them well, and fought fiercely to protect them. And because of that, he had accidentally built a private army right in her backyard. She reached up, her fingers lightly brushing her cheek. Her skin felt unusually warm.

She thought back to the day they met in the snowy valley. She had been completely ready to throw her life away to hold off the Troll King. Instead of letting her die a noble death, Rudra had simply slapped her dented helmet to throw her out of the way. It was blunt and entirely disrespectful. But it saved her life. It was the most honest, unfiltered thing anyone had ever done for her. She blushed slightly, wondering about that raw directness, before quickly dropping her hand and shaking her head. Knock. Knock.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Seraphine cleared her throat, instantly returning to her sharp, royal persona.

"Enter." Her trusted aide opened the door and hurried inside. He looked completely out of breath.

"Your Highness," the aide gasped, bowing quickly.

"The gate guards just sent an urgent report. Marquis Rudra has returned to the city." Seraphine sat down at her desk.

"Is he heading straight to his estate?"

"Yes," the aide swallowed hard.

"But he didn't come back alone. He brought four people with him. They were wearing thick travel cloaks, but the guards at the gate were terrified."

"Terrified? Why?"

"Their auras, Your Highness. The captain of the guard said just standing near them felt incredibly heavy. They feel like seasoned monsters." Seraphine's smile widened just a fraction. While the Empire prepared for war, her greatest ally was bringing home absolute powerhouses.

"Send a messenger to the estate," Seraphine ordered, grabbing her sword belt from her chair.

"Tell Marquis Rudra I will be visiting his home soon. It's time we pick his new territory." The heavy iron gates of the Marquis estate groaned loudly as they pushed open. Rudra stepped into the wide, snowy courtyard. He tapped his boots to shake off the slush. Behind him, four figures in heavy, snow-covered cloaks walked in quietly. The courtyard wasn't empty. Elysia was swinging her silver longsword in the center of the yard, sweat dripping down her face despite the cold.

Winfred sat on a wooden bench nearby, reviewing a stack of tactical maps. Sitting next to him was Singuled. The massive Third Knight was still wrapped in thick bandages, but he looked much healthier than a few months ago. Elysia heard the gate. She stopped mid-swing and lowered her sword. Winfred looked up from his maps. Singuled slowly stood up.

"We're home," Rudra called out, offering a casual wave. He turned to the four people behind him.

"You guys can drop the hoods now." The four cloaked figures reached up. Amelda pulled her hood back first. Then Kentrick. Then Icarus. Finally, the frail, elderly Dante lowered his cloak. The courtyard went completely, utterly silent. The only sound was the cold wind rustling the pine trees. Singuled took a heavy, shaking step forward. His fierce, battle-hardened eyes locked onto Dante. The massive man looked like he was about to collapse. Elysia dropped her sword.

It clattered loudly against the frozen cobblestones. She pressed both hands over her mouth, tears instantly welling up in her silver eyes.

"T-The estate is very nice," Amelda blurted out, her nervous stutter breaking the silence. She rubbed her arm awkwardly.

"It is good to see you, Sir Winfred." Winfred didn't speak. The Red Sage, the man who had carried the crushing weight of their massacre for years, just stared at his surviving comrades. His hands trembled violently. Kentrick, the massive vanguard, walked forward. He didn't say a word. He just grabbed Singuled in a crushing, one-armed hug, carefully avoiding his bandaged shoulder. Singuled hugged him back, burying his face in Kentrick's shoulder. Icarus gave Elysia a sharp, silent nod.

It was the absolute most emotion the paranoid scout ever showed. Elysia wiped her eyes and nodded back. Finally, the elderly Dante slowly walked up to Winfred. The 9th Knight was a mentor who had taught them the very foundations of the Empire's swordsmanship. Dante placed a wrinkled, warm hand on Winfred's trembling shoulder.

"You look tired, Winfred," Dante said, his raspy voice full of gentle kindness.

"You have carried a very heavy burden for us." Winfred finally broke. The legendary tactician dropped his maps, fell to his knees in the snow, and wept. He cried for the comrades they lost, and for the family that finally came back to him. Dante just smiled softly, patting the old man's back. Rudra watched them from the gate. He didn't say anything. He didn't walk forward to interrupt. He just stood there, leaning on his heavy staff, a quiet, genuine smile on his face. Beside him, Kratos nudged Rudra's leg.

The half-gold, half-black divine beast, now the size of a large dog, let out a deep, confused bark at all the crying people.

"Let them have a minute, buddy," Rudra whispered, scratching behind the beast's ears. Rudra turned away from the emotional reunion. He quietly slipped past the courtyard and headed straight for the estate's kitchen doors. He had a lot of mouths to feed now, and it was time to get to work.