The familiar forest air greeted Kyle like an old friend, its crisp scent weaving through the breeze as he stepped back into the village—his village.
The sound of hamrs striking wood and chatter among the workers reached his ears, and he took it all in silently.
The buildings had expanded, the defenses fortified, and the villagers moved with discipline and purpose. What was once a temporary settlent had beco a small fortress town—a beacon of defiance and independence.
lissa and Bruce walked behind him, both quiet, both recovering.
Queen hovered beside Kyle, silent as ever, but pulsing with energy that resonated with the land now marked by his mana. This place no longer bowed to gods. It only obeyed Kyle.
The village chief hurried over the mont Kyle crossed the periter. Sweat beaded his forehead, not from labor, but from nerves.
"Young Master. There’s... soone waiting for you. In your office. From your family."
He greeted respectfully, bowing low.
Kyle raised a brow.
"From the Duchy?"
The chief nodded quickly.
"Yes, sir. Said he was sent by Duke Armstrong himself."
Kyle’s expression didn’t change, but he exhaled quietly through his nose. It had been a long ti since his father had last tried to reach out.
He hadn’t expected anything from that end—not now, not when his na was echoing across territories, carried by whispers and fearful reverence alike.
"I’ll et them."
He said, walking ahead.
He entered his office with Queen silently following him, and the mont the door opened, the ssenger stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the chair in his haste.
The man wore the armor of a ducal guard, well-maintained and bearing the Armstrong crest. His eyes darted around the room—at the stacked maps, the weapons resting on the stand, the organized rows of docunts, the subtle flow of mana in the air. It was far more structured and formidable than any border village had a right to be.
"You... You really built this place."
The guard muttered under his breath, not realizing he’d spoken aloud.
Kyle walked past him and took his seat calmly.
"You can stop staring. Take a seat. You said there’s much to discuss."
The guard sat down stiffly, still clearly stunned by Kyle’s appearance.
He’d expected a feeble noble’s son, not this—this calm, muscular man who exuded command and carried the weight of sothing ancient in his presence. The rumors hadn’t exaggerated after all.
"I’m... here under orders from Duke Armstrong himself. He requests your presence at the Duchy. There is a matter concerning... the succession."
The guard began, straightening.
Kyle leaned back, fingers steepled under his chin.
"Succession, is it?"
The guard nodded, uneasily watching Queen drift past the room like a silent shadow.
"Yes. It’s urgent. The Duke wants you to return within a day or two at most. It’s a formal summons... not just a request."
Kyle closed his eyes for a mont. So, the old man was finally moving pieces.
And now, he wanted his discarded son back in the fold.
He could almost laugh at the timing.
"Tell my father I’ve received the ssage. And I’ll be there soon. No need to send further ssengers."
Kyle said after a mont.
The guard blinked.
"You’ll... comply?"
"I never said I wouldn’t."
Kyle stood up and walked to the window, gazing out at the villagers training below.
"Besides... it’s about ti I returned."
The guard looked visibly relieved but still cautious.
"Shall I report that to the Duke?"
Kyle nodded.
"Do that."
He said nothing else. The guard stood, gave a clumsy salute, and hurried out the door, no doubt eager to escape the suffocating presence of Queen and the pressure that clung to Kyle’s aura.
Once he was gone, lissa peeked in.
"Was that... a family visitor?"
Kyle nodded without turning.
"Apparently, my father has found a use for after all."
Bruce scoffed.
"Now that you’ve toppled a god and claid a holy territory? Convenient."
lissa frowned.
"Are you really going?"
"I am. Because if my family wants to drag back into their world...I might as well gain sothing out of it."
Kyle turned around, eyes unreadable.
Queen floated silently to his side, its presence calm and patient. Kyle reached out and rested a hand against it briefly, grounding himself.
Once the ssenger was gone and the door clicked shut behind him, Bruce leaned back against the wall, arms crossed.
"So, is it ti for us to head out again, Young Master?"
He said casually, though his eyes were sharp,
Kyle didn’t look up from the table where he was reviewing a map of the duchy.
"Not us, Bruce. You’re staying behind this ti."
Bruce blinked.
"What?"
Kyle finally looked at him.
"I’ll be taking lissa with . You’ll remain here and continue overseeing the rebuilding and organization. The holy city is ours now, and it needs order. Soone I trust has to keep things running."
Bruce made a wounded face, hand on his chest like he’d just been betrayed.
"Are you seriously leaving behind? After all we’ve been through?"
Kyle smirked faintly.
"Yes."
Bruce opened his mouth to protest again, then sighed, his shoulders slumping.
"I suppose it’s for the best... not that I’m happy about it."
From outside the room, a soft knock interrupted the mont. Before Kyle could respond, the door creaked open and Racheal stepped in, her expression calm but her eyes full of quiet worry.
"I heard that you’re leaving."
She said simply.
Kyle raised a brow.
"Word travels fast."
She walked in and stopped near the desk, glancing briefly at Bruce before locking eyes with Kyle.
"I’m coming with you."
Bruce looked startled.
"What? You—"
"I’m worried about you. Every ti you leave, you take on sothing more dangerous than the last. If this trip involves your family... then I won’t let you face it alone."
Racheal cut in, not looking at Bruce.
Bruce looked like he was about to argue again, but Kyle just gave a small shrug and leaned back in his chair.
"Do whatever you want."
That was all he said, and Racheal gave him a small nod before stepping back out, her expression unreadable.
Bruce groaned and rubbed his face.
"She’s really coming, huh..."
Kyle gave him a pointed look.
"You’ll manage. The two of you worked well during the siege. You’ll work well again now—just from opposite ends."
Queen drifted through the window and settled beside Kyle, its glowing form silent but watchful. Bruce glanced at it and sighed again.
"I really don’t like being left behind..."
Kyle didn’t respond this ti. He reached for the letter left by the Duke’s ssenger and folded it neatly, then stood up.
There was no ti for hesitation anymore. The wheels of war had begun to turn—and the next battlefield would be a hall lined with blood, secrets, and kin.
And Kyle would face it head-on.
Bruce slumped into the chair Kyle had just vacated, muttering.
"You better not die while I’m not around."
Kyle chuckled faintly.
"Have I ever?"
Outside, Queen hovered silently, its presence subtle but firm. It knew the path ahead would not be as simple as visiting family.
The Duke would not summon his son for idle talk—not after years of silence. There were politics involved, and likely a deeper trap waiting. But Kyle had changed.
Racheal was already preparing, and lissa stood silently by the doorway, ready to move at a mont’s notice.
This ti, Kyle would confront his bloodline—and co out stronger.
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