Three days later, Alistair and his soldiers finally returned to Frostcrest.
He looked upon the familiar city and the familiar streets and felt that even the faint scent of horse manure in the air was exceptionally fresh.
It’s good to be on my own turf, Alistair mused.
He glanced at the soldiers behind him and saw comfort and relief in their eyes as well. They likely shared his sentint.
The company ambled back towards Snowmantle Citadel. From a distance, Alistair spotted a small figure sitting on a low stool by the gate. She ford a charming contrast with the tall guards flanking the entrance, making her appear all the more petite and endearing.
It was, without a doubt, his little maid, Abby.
Behind Abby stood a kindly-faced middle-aged woman—Mrs. Agnes.
What are those two doing by the gate? Alistair wondered, urging his mount to the front of the column.
Abby sat with her chin in her hands, her small ears drooping as she stared blankly, lost in thought.
Suddenly, a troop of riders on warhorses entered her field of vision. They rounded the moat outside the keep and began crossing the drawbridge. The knight leading them was clad in magnificent armor, stained with dried, blackened blood. He rode a tall Drakeblood Steed, his posture heroic, his short, golden hair shimring in the afternoon sun.
"Ma... Master?"
Abby rubbed her eyes, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing.
At first, it was just a small whisper, but as the figure drew closer, her eyes grew brighter. Her fluffy ears perked up. Unable to contain her longing and excitent any longer, she shouted, "Master!"
Crying out, Abby was already hopping and skipping towards Alistair, who had just dismounted. Her large eyes were narrowed into joyful crescents, a happy smile gracing her lips. She started to reach out to embrace the man before her, but a thought of her station—and the many soldiers watching—made her pull one hand back.
In the end, she only managed to grasp a corner of Alistair’s cape.
Abby’s eyes were fixed on Alistair as he led his steed, carefully scanning him from head to toe for any sign of injury.
Just then, Mrs. Agnes ca forward. She cast a loving glance at Abby and said to Alistair with a chuckle, "Young Master Alistair, Abby has been sitting here waiting for you every day after her lessons. She stays until the castle bells chi for the night, and no amount of persuasion can convince her to go back inside."
Mrs. Agnes’s words made Abby’s face flush crimson, but she kept her head held high, looking at Alistair, her hand stubbornly clutching his cape as if he might vanish at any second.
"Is that so? To think my little maid was waiting for here all this ti."
A warmth spread through Alistair’s chest. He looked down at his little maid, her eyes shining brightly, and saw the hopeful expectation in her gaze. He gently placed a large hand on her head and began to stroke her hair.
Abby stood on her tiptoes, her eyes closed in a picture of pure bliss, her lips curved into an adorable smile.
The surrounding knights suddenly found other things to do. So began counting the bricks on the castle walls, while others struck up conversations with their horses.
Alistair quickly picked up on the strange atmosphere. He gave Abby’s cheek a gentle pinch, then turned to his knights. "Alright, let’s not all stand around out here."
"Everyone is dismissed for the day. No need to report for castle duty tonight."
After giving his orders, Alistair retrieved a bag of gold coins from a carriage and handed it to Thorne with a solemn instruction. "Distribute these coins to the families of the fallen soldiers. From now on, they can collect their survivor’s benefits from the Civic Hall each month."
"Oh, and one more thing," Alistair added. "Investigate their family situations thoroughly. Make certain the benefits are not claid by proxy or through fraud."
Next, Alistair summoned Goodwin and assigned him to lead the castle servants in organizing the supplies they had procured from Sablewood, sorting them for storage in the castle’s warehouses.
Once everything was settled, Alistair finally took his little maid by the hand and returned to his chambers.
He hadn’t bathed in days. Although cultivating his Aura ant his body produced fewer impurities than an ordinary person’s, it didn’t an he didn’t sweat. He felt sticky all over and was desperate for a good, long soak.
But just as he removed his armor, leaving him in his underclothes, the little maid who had been standing obediently to the side suddenly threw herself into his arms.
Abby had waited for this for a long, long ti.
She wrapped her soft arms tightly around Alistair’s waist, burying her tender face in his chest and nuzzling against him, her words a muffled murmur.
"Master... I missed you so much..."
Breathing in Alistair’s familiar scent, Abby felt her entire body go limp. A deep blush crept from her neck up to her face. She had been cleverly waiting, holding back until Alistair had removed his armor. Only then could she fully feel her master’s warmth and the solid breadth of his chest.
Alistair looked down at the little maid in his arms, sowhat at a loss. He reeked of sweat, but seeing Abby like this, he didn’t have the heart to push her away. He could only give a helpless smile, placing a hand on her back and patting it gently.
"Abby, why don’t you wait until after I’ve bathed? I’m covered in sweat right now..."
Yet the little maid seed not to hear him. Unmoved, she hugged his waist even tighter, as if trying to ld herself completely into him.
After a mont, perhaps having had her fill of hugging, or perhaps feeling she shouldn’t delay Alistair any longer, Abby loosened her grip. She looked up, her large eyes hazy as she murmured dreamily, "Master slls so good. It makes feel so warm... I want to hold you forever..."
With that, she buried her face in his chest again, sniffing and nuzzling deeply before letting out a contented hum.
"It slls good? And it makes you feel warm?" Alistair stroked Abby’s small face, a puzzled look on his.
Abby didn’t look up, keeping herself hidden in his embrace, unwilling to leave for even a second. Her voice was muffled as she replied, "Yes, Master. It’s like the wind blowing across the fields when I was little, when my mother would hold while we counted the stars."
Alistair froze. A bold theory ford in his mind. Could it be... the Source of the Wild? Can she feel the Breath of the Wild?
To test his idea, Alistair asked Abby if she had ever heard of beastkin awakening the power of their bloodline.
Abby tilted her head and thought seriously, a flicker of reminiscence and sorrow in her eyes. After a mont, she organized her thoughts and said, "When I was little, my father told that the beastkin were once a very powerful race, many years ago."
"Though we can’t cultivate Aura and have no talent for Magic, we can awaken the power hidden in our blood by communing with Nature."
"But the conditions to awaken this power are extrely demanding. It requires not just talent, but also a deep personal resonance between one’s own senses and the power within the bloodline."
"So were lucky enough to awaken the power of water beneath a waterfall. Others encountered a tornado and, within it, ca to understand the power of wind. There were even those who lived among herds of beasts and awakened the power of the wild."
"We don’t know what power is hidden in our blood, so we can only try one thing after another. Very few succeed. But when they do, so beco as strong as you are, Master, in a single mont of awakening."
Abby spoke calmly and steadily, her gaze eventually returning to Alistair’s face. A blush rose on her cheeks, and she once again buried her head in his chest.
Alistair didn’t notice the girl’s small movent. His mind was wholly consud, processing the information in her words. Two points stood out to him.
First, the places Abby described—a waterfall, a tornado, a herd of beasts—were all unique natural environnts. It was perfectly normal for the Breath of the Wild to be present in such places.
Second, he was finally certain: the Templar’s Holy Blood Ritual used the power of the beastkin bloodline. No wonder that Templar had transford into a werewolf at the end. It was an awakening of the power of beasts.
Alistair himself was now the Source of the Wild. In theory, he possessed every type of Breath of the Wild. Any beastkin with sufficient talent could find a Breath of the Wild on him that resonated with their own bloodline.
So when Abby said she felt warm, it must have been because she was resonating with a specific Breath of the Wild emanating from his body.
Which ans... Abby has the potential to awaken her bloodline ability!
Alistair was thrilled by the possibility. He quickly took Abby by the shoulders, lifting her from his chest. Looking into her confused eyes, he asked, "Abby, do you rember how your people used to commune with nature?"
Abby didn’t understand why Alistair was asking, but she nodded obediently. "I rember, Master. It’s a natural talent for us beastkin, a mory engraved in our blood. When we seek communion, if we form a connection with nature, we see a vision related to our bloodline’s power. After that, we can search for similar scenes to experience it again. After multiple communions, we can awaken."
At this, Abby’s shoulders slumped, and she shook her head sadly. "Since I was born, while wandering with my brother, I would occasionally try to commune with nature when we saw beautiful scenery, but I always failed. I... I probably don’t have any talent."
Alistair took the girl’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Maybe it’s not that you lack talent," he said with a warm smile. "Maybe you just haven’t found the feeling that resonates with your blood. Why don’t you try communing right now with that scent from —the one that feels so fragrant and warm."
Alistair smiled mysteriously, adding, "You might be in for a surprise."
Abby looked at her master, perplexed, but she obediently did as he said. Clasping her hands together before her chest, she used her innate ability to focus on the aura emanating from him.
A familiar, warm feeling began to swirl around her, gradually enveloping her entire being.
At that very mont, a soft white light began to glow from within the girl’s body.
And she saw.
She saw a silent field of wheat, alive with the chirping of insects and birds, teeming with growth. She saw wild grasses, reborn by the spring wind, beginning their yearly cycle anew. She saw the setting sun painting the sky, a lone pine clinging to a sheer cliff, and wild geese descending over endless, tranquil sands.
She saw life.
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