She still rembered the faces of those children, rembered the joy and sorrow they brought him and her, rembered love and laughter, rembered pain and separation.
"Malin, that child, is truly one of a kind." His wife said with a voice full of emotion and joy, "Soren will surely beco a master of Spiritual Energy under his guidance."
"He will, our child will definitely beco a master." Manheim said, patting his wife’s hand again, as he could feel her heartbeat seemingly quicken.
When he turned around, he saw his beloved shedding tears. So he stood up and embraced her tightly, "Don’t cry, you’re no longer that little girl from forty years ago."
You silly old woman, do you still think you’re the one wearing that dress back then?
"I’m afraid of losing you." She said this.
"Don’t worry, if I leave this world before you, I will wait for you outside Valhalla. And if you leave before , please wait for outside Valhalla, alright?" Manheim comforted his beloved, listening to her sobs. Gradually, the King held his queen close.
......
"Teacher Malin."
Malin saw Soren at the gates of the Royal Palace. This child exuded a maturity and composure far beyond his years, and as he continued to grow taller, the air of a "little adult" beca even more pronounced.
"In two days, you’re setting out, aren’t you?"
There was a trace of hesitation on the child’s face, as if he wanted to say sothing.
Malin nodded, "Yes, there have been delays because of previous matters. We can’t afford any more delays; ti waits for no one." Malin felt it was imperative to take action without further postponent.
If the war didn’t start before May this year, and the conflict dragged into the second half of the year, the sudden cold snaps could undo most of the efforts made over the past year.
"Teacher, when can I finally go to the battlefield?" The child asked.
"You’re still too young. The battlefield is not for you." Malin replied, slightly taken aback—why was the child suddenly bringing this up?
Why did he want to join the battlefield? While stepping onto the battlefield ant a boy becoming a man, no matter what, Soren was still too small. Even if he could survive his first experience of combat, his physical developnt hadn’t matured enough—he still couldn’t truly be called a man.
"But... I want to grow up. That way, neither Mother nor Father will sigh and lant because of my youth."
What a... thoughtful child.
Malin sighed and reached out to pat Soren’s head, "Listen, my child. Right now, you should focus on training your Spiritual Energy. When you’ve amassed enough strength, whether or not you ever step onto a battlefield, your mother and father will both be proud of you. Rember this, child."
"... Alright then." Seeing Malin’s firm stance, the child finally began to back away from his teacher.
But Malin still caught hold of him, "Rember, you are a Psychic. You must understand how easily Psychics can sense one another. So don’t even think about sneaking into my army."
"Yes, Teacher." The child’s face showed a trace of grievance.
Malin sent the child away, standing for a long ti in silence at the gate.
This child... has issues.
Why did he step forward now to request joining the army? Why did he talk about growing up? He’s only ten years old; even if he returned ho alive, he’d still be just a ten-year-old child. What could a child possibly do?
Manheim’s aging was plainly visible. Given his strength, he must have so awareness of the remaining length of his life, and his wife seed even worse off. Lacking sufficient power, with multiple childbirths and repeated losses of children, her health had deteriorated drastically. If last year she still retained so vitality, by this year her decline was also starkly visible.
The King and Queen of this kingdom were growing old. The reason Malin agreed to be Soren’s ntor was to protect him, to give a path to this child who was destined never to beco king.
Soren, this child, was pitiful as well. His efforts, in Malin’s eyes, were already comndable, but he still lacked ti.
It wasn’t just him or his family—everyone in this world was running out of ti.
On one side lood the advancing Tide of the Dead; the destruction brought by Chaos was trying its best to toll the death knell for human civilization.
On the other side receded the dwindling hope. Malin had scoured every historical text he could find, but had yet to find a way to save everything.
Malin would not give up, but truth be told, facing despair every single day was an agonizing ordeal.
Whatever the case, Malin would not relinquish it all. He rembered the vow he had made—to save this world. It seed that saving this world was the most important and perhaps sole mission of his life, surpassing even the salvation of his loved ones and children.
It clearly had to do with his loved ones and children, yet why did Malin always feel there was an even higher purpose—a promise he had made to an even more significant existence?
Though not yet elderly, his mory had already deteriorated to this extent. Malin, you really are just a useless old fool.
With a sigh and so frustration, Malin eventually opened a portal.
He wanted to return to Rongma, to see his loved ones and children.
......
This afternoon, Maya had attended the Spring Festival hosted by the Goddess of Harvest Church in Carterburg on Malin’s behalf. When she returned to the house in Rongma, she was inford that Malin was already asleep.
"He played with the children all afternoon and now he’s using them as pillows, fast asleep." Matilda stayed beside Maya, and together they looked at Malin sleeping on the bed, with the young children resting on his arms and legs as if they were pillows. In the end, they could only smile while keeping the room warm.
After all, Rongma’s nights, even during this season, carried a hint of chill.
"Malin looks exhausted, but he never tells anything." Matilda, who had been tending the house today, seed to be in low spirits. She accompanied Maya back to the main hall, her whole deanor heavy with sadness.
"Don’t be sad, my dear sister. Malin is dealing with big troubles in the North. Their campaign should be starting soon, and when it does, Malin will only get even more exhausted. So if you have any free ti, you could at least keep him company."
"? But compared to the others, my strength isn’t that remarkable. If soone is to help, it should be you or Faye."
"I’m really busy, you’ve seen it yourself. Faye has handed off the matters in Carterburg to . He’s in Regensburg doing everything he can to support Malin, and Nova is working on Farole’s developnt as per the plan. All of us are doing our part."
"No, let Clovis go. I’m better at taking care of children." In the end, Matilda declined Maya’s request and, after speaking, fled the hall as though escaping.
Left behind, Maya glanced around the hall and let out a sigh.
In the end, the responsibility would still fall on Clovis, wouldn’t it? But she’s just a Bunny Girl—is she really capable of handling the corpses and blood-soaked battlefields of the Northern front?
Maya didn’t know, nor did she dare to know. Instead, she contacted Clovis, asking the Bunny Girl to give her an answer for their sister.
The ssaging between ssengers was a bit slow. After sending the ssage, Maya went to check on Malin and the children in their room again—this ti, entering the room through her Spiritual Body. The children were sound asleep; the room’s temperature was perfectly suited for them. None of the children would catch cold or overheat.
And their father remained motionless. Despite being large in stature, this was his first ti being so intimately close to the children. Yet Malin truly had a natural way with them.
Yes, he had been like this since his days as an Apprentice. Malin always had a knack for guiding younger Apprentices, and now he was equally adept at caring for his own children.
Stepping out of the room, Maya was heading downstairs to instruct the maids to prepare so food when she noticed a ssenger delivering a letter.
"No problem, leave it to ."
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