As Julian walked the familiar path toward the Florence's main household, a rare sense of nostalgia settled over him.
Six months in Elandria had felt like an eternity, and now, returning to these grounds seed almost surreal.
Ten years of relentless missions had kept him away, transitioning from one task to the next with hardly a mont's respite.
His life consisted mostly of camps under harsh skies or cramped rooms in bustling inns, and now he found himself once again amidst the towering walls that signified ho.
He moved through the side gate without resistance, his presence unsurprisingly unnoticed yet sohow comforting.
But just as he began to settle into the familiarity, an abrupt chill prickled at his senses—a killing intent aid squarely at him.
"…?"
With practiced calm, Julian shifted his stance. A figure dropped from above, swinging a massive great sword in an arc ant to cleave him in two.
CLANG!
He countered fluidly, bringing his own sword up in a cross-ard block, holding it horizontally across his body to absorb the strike.
The force behind the attack was formidable but not unexpected; Julian had faced worse.
The armored man landed heavily, shaking from Julian's parry. His eyes burned with rage.
"An imposter dares to infiltrate the Duchess's ho? Are you a fool?"
***
"A fool? Perhaps,"
Julian having not been recognised in so long expected so kind of combat, but not against this kind of person.
SHING!
Flicking his wrist, his sword overpowered the armored man and sent him staggering back.
His eyes narrowed beneath the mask, genuinely perplexed at this stranger's strength.
"How dare you! The Duchess will have your head!"
With a defiant roar, he channeled mana into his sword. The blade erupting with an earthen glow. He leaped skyward without a care in the world.
"Spell Arts of Earth: Rock Slam!"
Slamming his sword toward the ground mid-air, the earth erupted in jagged spikes, charging at Julian with relentless intent.
Julian leaped back with practiced ease, but the spikes pursued him like a beast on the hunt.
Anticipating his every move, the guard was suddenly airborne beside him—his ferocity matched by cunning.
Julian smirked, seeing the determination in his opponent—and perhaps so twisted sense of kinship.
But it ended swiftly.
His hand shifted seamlessly into a gun-like form.
"Bang," he whispered, firing off a weak shot that packed enough force to send the knight crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust and shattered pride.
***
[Julian's POV]
I watched as the armored fool stood up, dusting off his pride and glaring at like I was so kind of ghost.
"Julian?" he finally said, disbelief coloring his voice. "You're... alive?"
Robert. Of course, it was him. Only that thick-headed oaf would think firing off a spell like that was a good way to welco soone ho.
"News of my death was greatly exaggerated,"
Lady Ophelia's handiwork, no doubt. Already spreading rumors before I'd even set foot in the door.
"But Lady Ophelia said—"
"Don't tell you believed her." I shook my head, finding the whole thing absurd but so typical. "She was probably joking."
Robert's expression turned serious. "She had that look, Julian. We all thought..."
"She does have that look," I admitted with a sigh. This ti, she wasn't playing around—but it was justified. I can see why she's mad.
The rest of the guards had gathered round, looking at like they'd seen a ghost co back for revenge.
"It's fine now!" I called out, waving dismissively at their panicked faces. "Get back to work! We've got shipnts outside; move them to the warehouse for prep and delivery."
Almost in tears from relief or fear—I couldn't tell which—Robert saluted with renewed vigor.
"Yes, Chief!"
I watched them scurry off before turning toward the main house, wondering how in the world I'd explain my reappearance to Ophelia without getting another earful... or a sword to the face.
The doors to the main household stood out before , their glory an austere distinction to the gritty, open world I'd been wandering for these past years.
CREAKK!
I pushed them open with a forceful shove, expecting an ambush of demands and accusations from Ophelia.
Instead, standing in the entryway, her arms laden with freshly pressed clothes, was my mother.
Ti froze. Her gray-streaked hair seed more asserted since I'd last seen her two full years ago.
She looked up, her gentle smile freezing in disbelief.
"Mother," I called out, my voice barely masking the rush of emotions that surged through like a torrent.
The linens slipped from her hands, fluttering to the floor in forgotten heaps.
"Julian!"
I closed the distance between us in a heartbeat. She enveloped in an embrace that felt like coming ho for real this ti.
The warmth and comfort of it all nearly undid .
"You're back… truly back…" she whispered into my shoulder, as if saying it aloud would make it any less real.
I pulled back slightly to et her eyes.
"Sorry it's been so long. Your visits kept sane these past years."
She touched my face as if to reassure herself I wasn't so phantom set to vanish again.
"And you kept proud. But my new duties..." Her voice trailed off, apologetic and weary.
"I know. After Ophelia beca Duchess, your workload doubled."
I couldn't hide the bitterness creeping into my voice.
I'd always feared this would happen—that I'd never see her because she was busy running the entire household while I ran around doing Ophelia's dirty work.
Her eyes softened with understanding, as if she'd read my thoughts precisely as they were ant.
"I'm just glad to have you here again," she said, her smile returning with full force.
"As long as I'm not dead by morning,"
I quipped lightly, though we both knew it wasn't entirely a joke.
**
Erica's warm laughter filled the hallway, a rare sound that enveloped Julian in its gentle embrace.
"If you want to avoid that fate, you'd best hurry. Duchess Ophelia expected you in her office around this ti."
Julian sighed theatrically but nodded, knowing better than to delay.
He gave his mother one last, lingering squeeze before making his way toward the tower of power that was Ophelia's office.
Reviews
All reviews (0)