Reivan took his time flying down the mountain, sitting pretty on Zouros' large back.

There was plenty to admire. The sea of green blanketing the mountain, the bustling cityscape around it, and the familiar temperate winds blowing against his face.

It was the Aizen he'd come to know and love.

It was his home.

'I'm finally back! Let's go!'

In hindsight, he hadn't been away for too long. He'd been tucked away in his mind for much longer in comparison. But it sure as hell felt long. And he really appreciated being back in an environment he'd gotten so familiar with—an environment that he considered his home with all his heart.

"Aren't you glad we're back, Zee?" Reivan gave his favorite serpent a strong pat, receiving a lukewarm response in return. "Huh, I suppose you have been sleeping most of the time."

All things considered, expecting the archon fragment to grow attached to this place might have been asking too much. Still, it was a little disheartening to know that his ever-present companion didn’t care for the kingdom as much as he did. In Reivan’s mind, it was as much Zee’s home as it was his own.

'Eh, you'll come around eventually. We'll be staying here for a really long time, after all. And by that, I mean forever.'

Even when he took the scenic route to fully appreciate the feeling of returning, the trip didn’t take long. The mountain wasn't far from the palace, after all.

As his boot met the familiar sapphire blue carpet that filled the palace halls, he realized that even the palace interior had a scent that he’d never noticed, but was always there. Truly, being away made him appreciate even these little aspects.

What ruined the scenery was how Zouros spat Mira out in front of him before slithering back into his soul to continue its nap.

Naturally, the young woman was still unconscious—which wasn’t done to be unkind to her, but rather, to spare her from whatever cosmic horror she’d see while inside a mini world-devouring serpent’s mouth. Surely, she wouldn’t blame him for whatever she missed.

Reivan knelt beside her and looked her over to ensure she wasn’t injured or afflicted with some malady from her second stay in Zouros' stomach. Her breathing seemed fine and her body had no problems besides her slightly disheveled clothing.

‘Should I wake her up now, or…’

A quick scan of his surroundings revealed there was nobody nearby. He’d just chosen a random window to enter through after all—because doors were overrated—so it made sense.

Even if most of Aizen’s Ascendant knights were surrounding the republic, ready to hunt down all of its silver cloaks, the palace itself would not be left utterly undefended. As such, someone must have sensed him already.

“Attend me,” Reivan spoke to nobody in particular, hoping someone was listening because he’d look very stupid otherwise.

Thankfully, someone appeared right next to him as if it was a matter of course. Actually, rather than appear, wind seeped through the gaps of a door and reformed into a woman.

A familiar woman.

“Oh!” Reivan’s brows shot up as he stood up. “It's my favorite sister-in-law. You’re alive!”

“I'm your only sister-in-law. And don’t just kill me off, little brother.” Stella chuckled, stepping forward to embrace him tightly. “You smell a little.”

“I’m glad to see you too. Oh, and you look a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

She let him go and grinned. “I’ve become an Ascendant!”

“Congratulations. I meant that more in the sense that you’ve stopped looking like the living dead, however.”

“I’m pretty young for it too, you know? I’m only in my twenties!” she blatantly lied while ignoring his retort.

Reivan let it pass without comment, however. She was already thirty when they last met, so she was, quite obviously, not in her twenties. As far as he knew, ages didn't go backward. Still, Ascending at thirty was an impressive feat considering she purposely stopped herself to pop out a few kids first.

If she had wanted to, she really could have Ascended in her twenties.

“Anyway, the kids missed you,” Stella shared as she patted him over to see how much he’d grown—which wasn’t by a lot, considering they hadn’t been apart that long. “Little Lisa especially. And Anna too.”

“With any hope, we’ll get to play more often.” Reivan smiled, thinking back to the newest additions to his ever-expanding family.

Lisanna, Annayula, and the newly born Alvenos. He hadn’t seen the third and only boy out of the three, but that hardly mattered. It wasn’t hard to imagine himself getting attached to the child. Surprisingly, he liked children as long as they were related to him.

“In any case…” Stella’s eyes fell on the unconscious woman at Reivan’s feet. “You brought home a woman again. I hope this isn't a trend you aim to spread.”

“Please don’t make it sound like I bring a woman home every time I go out.”

She snickered. “I’ve been told about her. Mira Sere... Uh, Sere-something, right? She’s got one of those spirit beasts, except hers is more important.”

“Serandina,” Reivan corrected. “Her name's Mira Serandina. And yes. It can Ascend just by killing other spirits with the same ability.”

“The world is really full of nonsensically unfair things… Ordinary folk have to work hard and they just get to rise after killing a few bozos.” Stella muttered, completely disregarding the fact that she herself was a manifestation of unfairness.

After all, she possessed the talent, work ethic, and resources to become an Ascendant at an age that normal knights were just starting to unlock their qi—and this was on top of having the face of a goddess, a bombshell of a body, and the status to marry the king of Sentorale’s most ancient nation.

“Well, you’re my sister’s problem now.” The current queen shrugged, crossing her arms and raising a brow at him. “Who are you going to see first? Roland or your fiancee, who has been pining for you in the months you’ve been apart and who suddenly has a new love rival?”

That, to Reivan, was the question of the century. In the end, however, he just left it up to fate.

“Who’s closer?” he asked.

Stella grinned, amused. “Your brother.”

“Then it only makes sense to see him first.” Reivan nodded. “Could I bother you to have someone take Mira to a room?”

“That won’t be a problem. Can I be rough?”

“Thank you. And please be gentle. I’ll see you later.”

“Now, now. Hold on.” She stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Hold tight.”

Immediately realizing what she was about to do, Reivan’s muscles tensed just in time for him to feel an almighty jolt as his vision blurred for a second. A moment later, he was unsteadily standing by an entirely different window in an entirely different room.

"Ugh..." Reivan grimaced as he held his temple. "Why am I dizzy when this isn't my first time?"

“Sorry. Not used to it yet,” Stella admitted. “I need guinea pigs before I try doing that to my kids.”

He groaned but appreciated the fact that she hadn’t tried it on her children yet. Perhaps he could accept the inconvenience in the name of protecting the little ones.

“Brother.” someone called out in a familiar voice. “I didn’t think you’d come to see me before Helen. That's not good. You'll lose points with your wife, you know?”

Holding his head in his hand as the dizziness expired, Reivan saw his brother waving at him while squatting on the floor. Two adorable little girls were running circles around him while he held a small bundle of cloth in his arms.

“Gimme.” Stella zipped forward and took the bundle from his arms, as one of the little girls ran up to Reivan.

“Bubby!” Lisa crashed into Reivan’s leg, latching on like a tiny koala. “Bubby, you’re back!”

“Yup, yup. Bubby’s back.” Reivan picked her up and rubbed his face on her cheek. “Missed me?”

“Mhm!”

“Even when I don’t have any presents?”

“That’s okay!” Lisa exclaimed, though she couldn’t hide the slight dejection on her face. “Lisa doesn’t need presents…”

“I lied though~! Of course, Bubby has presents“ Reivan pulled out a wooden toy called a kendama. He’d bought it from some stall at some point but forgot about it until now. She didn't need to know that, however. “Here you go.”

“Wow!” She snatched it from his hands and just looked at it with a beaming smile. “Thanks, Bubby! What is it?”

“Give it here for a sec…”

It had been a while since he’d played it, but he was at the peak of the mortal realm at the moment so sure he would be able to do it. And after a couple of tries, he did, in fact, manage, eliciting cries of amazement from his niece.

Even his other niece was watching from afar with great interest, though still too wary of Reivan given how little time they’ve spent with each other. Clearly, she knew they were related but didn't feel that way yet. With any hope, she'd come around eventually.

“Lemme try!” Lisa asked and so she received. Her face immediately screwed up in focus after a while, but she didn’t seem keen on giving up any time soon.

‘That’ll occupy her for a while.’

Reivan set her down and the little girl quietly sank into herself, trying to get the kendama’s bright red ball to go where it should. The moment he left her, Anna came over to get a closer look at the toy.

“Brother. Come, sit.” Roland pointed at the table nearby as Stella played with the kids. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to be back,” Reivan said as they both sat down. “I expected you to be in your office. Specifically, under a mountainous pile of paperwork that has very high regenerative powers."

The king chuckled. “Given how Aizen could lose its sovereignty on the off-chance that the Sword Star dies, I thought I’d spend the last few moments of my life with my children.”

Reivan groaned. He also believed in the old man’s capabilities, but the risk was there. And though the kingdom had millennia's worth of preparation against hostile forces, those were meant to delay when faced against powerful entities such as Transcendents—To buy time until the Sword Star could ultimately remove said powerful hostile entity.

If the Sword Star died, then it wouldn’t matter if the enemy was delayed by a couple of hours or even days. The kingdom's defeat would be an inevitability.

Reivan watched his brother’s fingers drum on the table and asked. “Any news by now? I also left Valter behind so I’m worried about that…”

“Oh, don’t worry about Sir Valter and the others. Dame Mordred was there so everybody in the embassy managed to escape while surrounded by silver cloaks.”

“I see…” Reivan hummed to himself as he realized how dry his throat was. With a snap of his fingers, he used his special ability to prepare tea. Cups, pots, and leaves floated between them as he crossed his arms. “What about the fight?”

Roland cleared his throat. “Apparently, that was the trigger. Jerme the Gladiator King, who just happened to be relatively close by, sensed the Sage King and made the decision to engage. Everyone in the embassy would have been taken out if it weren't for him, so I plan to add a little extra to his fee as thanks. The War God arrived shortly after. Seems Argonia also have ways to communicate over long distances immediately, given how quickly he showed up.”

“Hm… It’s probably used for emergencies only. Am I wrong?” Reivan willed one of the teapots into his hand and activated the enchantment. In a minute or two, the contents would turn into tea, so he set the table with cups.

“No, you got it right. Presumably, that is. Otherwise, they wouldn’t ever relay information through their old ways ever again. We also wouldn't have been able to manipulate their information if that were the case."

“Right… So? The fight?”

Roland smiled. “We won. The Sage King's dead.”

Reivan’s body relaxed at that. He didn’t even notice that he’d stiffened up, so he indulged himself by reclining further into his seat. “That’s amazing news. Fast too. It’s barely been thirty minutes.”

It both amazed and frustrated him that the literal fate of his home and everyone in it had been decided in such a short span of time. He had flown down from the top of the Sword Sanctum and by the time he stepped foot in the palace, everything was all over. Hell, news of it had already returned to Aizen, so the actual fight took much less time.

And in that time, he’d literally had no way to influence the outcome. A game was being played and he wasn’t a player. He wasn’t even a spectator.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Truly, being weak in a world where power was everything scared him to his core. Was praying all he could do? He didn’t blame himself for that weakness, since he was already doing quite well relative to his age. But it made his blood run cold when he thought of outcomes where things didn’t work out as well as they did.

“Casualties…?” Reivan asked, tamping down his darker thoughts.

“Only enemy Transcendents died.” Roland sighed. “There was apparently an unexpected variable. An elf with a spirit beast intervened for the Sage King. That said, the Sage King is apparently just a single Transcendent, not a Transcendent sorcerer and his Transcendent spirit beast. So Sir Rolf and the others had to face a total of three enemies.”

“Oh… Well, it’s great that everything worked out despite that. You expected the War God to betray us, so this was a better outcome.”

“True enough. The worst cases were avoided, at least.”

Reivan nodded, thinking back to one of the many sayings passed down in the royal family, creating generations of pessimistic bastards—who were all very good at their jobs because of their ridiculous caution.

“Plan for the worst outcome to obtain the best one”

Because of that, everything worked out well in the end.

Sir Rolf was alive. The Sage King was dead. And the kingdom was safe for now, as long as he ignored the Outland portal or the volatile eastern continent.

It would have been better if the War God also died in the battle, but one couldn’t be too greedy.

“Hm? If this information has reached us already, then shouldn’t Sir Rolf be here by now?” Reivan poured his brother a cup of tea before treating himself to one as well. “Or did the War God do something?”

“Well, he apparently tried to hit Sir Rolf in the back of the head when everything was settled.”

For a few heartbeats, Reivan didn’t know how to react to that. Was it really so shocking considering what the War God did during the negotiation event in Fort Alexander? He had to hand it to the guy, he was really committing to the bit of being a treacherous snake.

“It didn’t work, of course.” Roland continued, sighing. “At the moment, Sir Rolf is rounding up all the silver cloaks he can find. Apparently, the War God doesn’t intend to recruit any of the battlemages, so he’s just going to kill every single one he can find… except for the mortal ones.”

“Crazy bastard… What about the treaty?”

“That is already in place. So we can’t use Ascendants and above when in conflict with signatory organizations. Which now include us, the Argonia Empire, the Star of Fortune, the Orthodox Sormon Church, and the Saintess Sect. Furthermore, we have a private agreement with Argonia regarding how Arkhan will be handled. If the republic can muster up a functional government after their political capital was erased from the map, then we’ll approach them as well—though I highly doubt it. No politician is going to volunteer themselves in these troubled times.”

Reivan momentarily thought back to the Arkhanian president, who was also Inaria’s father. But he forced his thoughts back on the topic quickly. “Has the actual Spirit Tower been destroyed?”

“Yes. Sir Rolf managed to set the…uh… Upper Cities, they were called? Those floating islands. Anyway, he managed to set those down before the War God cracked open the tower. Most of the silver cloaks were absent, however.”

“Hm? Then they must have been spread out to take out Aizen’s bases or something along those lines. Or sent out by the Sage King in case he was defeated…? In any case, it means most of the silver cloaks are still out there.”

“Right? With that in mind, I’ll be counting on you. Recruiting the battlemages, I mean.”

Reivan nodded, licking his lips in thought. “Looks like my beloved nation needs me to bleed for it once again… literally.”

Blood was the body fluid he could most efficiently turn into medicine with [Drug Memorization] after all. The plan was to produce an obscene amount of the special spirit dew medicine to entice battlemages to join Aizen.

The kingdom didn’t really covet sorcery all that much, but if it could obtain hundreds of Ascendants without any prior investments? Obviously, they would take it.

‘Well, it’s no big deal.’

Reivan had grown used to such meager pain. So much so that just a bit of major bleeding wasn’t such a big deal. He could do it while reading a book or something so he wouldn't get bored. That said, he probably shouldn’t do it in front of the kids. Actually, he had taken the initiative to get started on it weeks ago while he was uselessly fucking around in the now-destroyed embassy, waiting for things to happen.

So he had a massive supply to surrender right this instant.

The lull in their conversation was interrupted when Lisa ran over to show him how good she’d gotten at using the kendama. Reivan then proceeded to misdirect her attention by telling her to teach her little sister how to do it since Anna looked really interested.

Left alone again, Roland smiled as he said. “You’re good at that. Dealing with children, I mean.”

“Ah, well.” Reivan shrugged. “What can I say? My face is so great that even children love me.”

“Even if you’re my brother, shouldn’t you tone your arrogance down a little? Especially since my face is better.”

“That’s what you think.”

Roland chuckled. “Fine. Why don’t we ask around and tally the results?”

Reivan grimaced. “How many people do you think are brave enough to vote against the literal king…?”

Both of them seriously talked about the possibility of actually holding some kind of vote. It was a silly thing, but they had just been informed that their nation was out of danger now. So in mutual relief, perhaps they were just looking for topics to take the edge off.

Happy topics. Foolish, inconsequential topics with nothing at stake.

“Marriage.” Roland tapped the table. “Everyone’s getting impatient.”

“Impatient…?” Reivan grimaced. “I’m eighteen. It’s not like I’ve been a bachelor for decades like Uncle Viktor. Why's nobody asking that guy to get married, hm?”

“Still. You should hold it soon. Your fiancee has been diligently working hard at her bridal training. Don’t you feel bad for making her wait for so long? So? Want me to set the date?”

“Everyone’s just ganging up on me… It’s as if I’ve left her hanging for a century, the way you’re castigating me.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Reivan groaned, toying with his cup. “...Well, it’s not like I don’t want to get married?”

“So you want to?”

“...Well, yes.”

Roland clapped his hands together. “Perfect. Then let’s set the date to one month from now.”

Reivan almost jumped out of his seat. “A month…!? Isn’t that way too rushed!?”

“Not at all. I, Father, Mother, and Helen have been laying out the groundwork and organizing what needs to be organized for months.”

“I’ve heard nothing of this…”

Roland shrugged with a chuckle. “Well, you were on a top-secret mission where communication was cut off.”

“I’ve been back in correspondence since a month ago.”

“Perhaps it slipped our minds to inform you?”

“You guys are full of it, you know that?”

“Lese Majeste. Watch your neck, little brother.” Roland wagged a finger at him jokingly. “Anyway. We could hold the wedding tomorrow if we so wished. But we’ll wait for a month in consideration of everyone attending.”

“This is madness…”

“Besides, don’t you want to marry Miss Elsamina as well? It’s unwise and it’s bad luck to get married in quick succession like that, so the sooner you marry Helen, the sooner you can hold a wedding for Miss Elsamina as well.”

Reivan groaned. This was why he didn’t want to argue with people smarter than him. Wasn’t that just asking to lose? His brother made perfect sense and even Reivan agreed.

“It’s decided then.” Roland grinned, openly amused at him. “We can talk about the troubles of married life soon.”

“Sister Stellaaaaaaaaa,” Reivan immediately called out to his sister-in-law. “My brother here says he has troubles with your marriage.”

“You little—!” Roland glared at him before hastily standing up and walking over to his wife. “Honey, I was just kidding around to tease him.”

“I know, I know…” Stella giggled, hugging Alvenos to her chest. “Go away, you’ll wake Alvie up.”

The great king of Aizen returned to his seat, looking none too pleased with his younger brother’s antics. “There will be retribution.”

Reivan sneered. “King of Aizen and father of three. Yet so petty. Just let it go.”

“Bah. To the gallows with you.”

Just as Reivan was about to retort, something burst through the door and headed straight for him like an arrow. He instinctively bolted out of his seat with a raised fist, ready to swat whatever it was aside while summoning a dagger in his other hand—but then he realized who it was and stopped.

As such, Helen appeared right in front of him and jumped into his embrace.

“You scared the crap out of me…” Reivan dispelled his dagger and returned the hug with triple the tightness, knowing that the seemingly short girl in his arm could take it. “As you can see, I’m back.”

“Mhm.” Helen nodded, her face still digging into his chest. “You almost hit me though.”

“I-I stopped at the last moment…”

“You’ve grown dull.”

“Cut me some slack, I’ve been living as a battlemage for months.”

Helen looked up, looking just as pretty as the day they parted. “We’re sparring later. I'll get you sharp again.”

Reivan laughed sheepishly. “Eh… Not that I'm complaining, but is that all we're doing...?”

“No.”

And that was enough. That one word meant Reivan’s hips would be undergoing rather intense stress tests later. A very pleasant development indeed.

They were pulled apart after Lisa innocently asked what they were doing, her bright blue eyes shining with childish curiosity. Reivan then noticed what his fiancee was wearing. “You’re wearing a dress…”

Helen nodded. “Is it strange?”

“I’m not used to it, but it’s not bad. Not bad at all…” Reivan eyed her down, admiring the contrast of her pearly white skin with the dark green dress.

“I see.” She muttered as she shamelessly forced him to sit down before sitting on his lap. “I need more feedback.”

“Hah…?”

“Tell me what you like.”

Reivan scratched his head. “If you ask that out of the blue, I’m not gonna know what to throw back, you know?”

‘That’s a lie. Actually, I like her usual tight pants more than this because it lets me admire her legs and her butt! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being a degenerate!’

Naturally, he wouldn’t just blurt that out. Especially when he considered the present company. But maybe when they were alone… Well, she was asking for it, so was he actually being a degenerate for telling it like it was?

No. No, he was not.

‘That’s right. I’m perfectly ordinary for admiring my soon-to-be wife! That’s my duty as a soon-to-be husband, no? Yup, I’m innocent.’

Helen seemed like she would pester him about his preferences more, but Lisa and Anna came up and whisked her off to play with the kendama—which Helen would likely master on her first try. She seemed quite close to her nieces and allowed them to lead her away with a small smile.

It seemed there wouldn't be trouble when they had their own kids.

Reivan watched them go, an overwhelming force tugging on the corners of his lips. To think that a year or two from now, he would look upon a similar view—just that the children would be his.

‘I’ve come a long way.’

From a bedridden young man on his deathbed, he was now someone a month away from marriage. Would his past self believe it if he told him that such happiness awaited as long as he endured the pain?

“Kids are great, aren’t they~?” Roland commented from across the table, his gaze also on the peaceful scene before them. “You’ll have your own soon. Lots, going by how many concubines you’re slated to have.”

“Ugh, right…” Reivan had almost forgotten about that. As the last mortal of his bloodline, the duty of restoring it lay on his shoulders. “Well, as long as I get to just stay at home for a while. I didn’t realize how homesick I was until I got back here.”

He was going to rampage around his favorite eateries when the opportunity presented itself. Arkhanian cuisine wasn't all that bad when he got a little used to it, but nothing beat the taste of home. Naturally, Helen would come along, since his favorite spots were her favorite spots too. Ah, he could let Mira tag along too if she wanted. And it was about time for him to finally tell Elsamina about his true identity.

The surprise on her face would be priceless. He just wished she wouldn’t break things off with him over it.

His spine chilled at the thought. Well, she already knew that the face he was showing her wasn’t his real face, so she was already primed for it. But still. Women were unpredictable. What argument would he have to offer if she simply didn't like his real face or something?

“I’m tired of thinking…” Reivan complained as he laid his face on the table, enjoying the coldness against his cheeks. “I just wanna laze around back here until my wedding…”

“Well…” Roland hummed. “You certainly deserve it, considering your contributions. Again, thank you, Rein.”

Waving his hand dismissively, Reivan replied. “No thanks necessary. We’re a team, after all. Gotta keep this nation afloat together.”

“A team, huh… That's a nice way to view it.”

“Yep~ a team. Team Aizen… Or Team Aizenwald…? Agh, naming stuff's a pain…”

Silence reigned between them. And for a while, only the laughter of children filled the room.

It was Roland who broke the lull by clearing his throat. “My dearest brother.”

Reivan turned his face toward his sibling, his cheeks still pressed on the table. His intuition was blaring alarm bells in his head. “I don’t like your term of address… You’re gonna ask me to do something really annoying, aren't you?”

“Haha… Hypothetically speaking, if I was, would you be mad?”

‘Fucking knew it…’

Roland awkwardly scratched his cheek, and it was made clear to Reivan that his brother was feeling quite guilty over it.

Straightening up in his chair, Reivan reclined while crossing his legs. “I’m assuming this requires someone from the royal family to do it.”

Roland nodded.

“Am I the best sibling for the job? There’s Mimi and Jiji too, after all. They’re technically adopted, sure, but we’ve already made it clear that it doesn't matter to us.”

“You are, undoubtedly, the best sibling for the job.”

"I see..." Reivan swept back his hair and sighed. “Then it’s decided. There's nothing I can do but do it.”

Roland’s brows shot up. “Just like that? You haven’t even heard what duty I’m going to assign.”

“If I’m really the best for the job anyway, then I’m going to want to do it in place of my siblings anyway.” Reivan rested his elbow on the table and rolled his wrist.

“Are you sure? It’s going to take you away from the palace for a long time though.”

“Wait, seriously? That’s so annoying…”

“Right?”

Reivan shrugged. “I’m guessing it involves Arkhan?”

Roland’s eyes widened for a moment before he grinned in realization. “Who was it? Or did you think of it on your own?”

“It was Valter,” he confessed. “He shared a bunch of predictions for how to deal with broken Arkhan after the Sage King’s fall. Jiji mentioned some things over dinner too, back when she was still at the embassy.”

“Is that so… It would have been great if you realized on your own.”

“Please lower your expectations. I'm only good at lying and fighting.”

Both of them chuckled before Reivan clapped his hands together. “Well, there you have it. Just leave it to me.”

“Thanks a lot. Really.”

“We’re brothers.” Reivan smirked. “We’re supposed to help each other. Perhaps we were born of different mothers but our heart yearns for the same thing. Or something like that.”

Roland returned an almost childish smile, something that had stopped appearing at some point in their lives. “My brother’s so damned cool. Y’know, I can kind of understand why you have so much trouble with women. Maybe if I was a woman, I would have fallen too?“

Reivan’s face twisted into a disgusted grimace, and a moment later, Roland’s face did too.

“My dear elder brother, let’s forget about that part of our conversation.”

“Agreed.”

“I was just complimented but why don’t I feel happy at all? Aren’t you ashamed? Why do you have to make me feel this way?”

“We both agreed to forget about it, so shut up.”

“Papa! Bubby! Look!” Lisa called out from the other end of the room, pointing at Helen, who was adeptly playing with three kendama at a time—one of them held in her mouth.

‘Eh? That’s amazing… Can I do that too?’

“Well, you should catch up with Helen,” King Roland said as he stood up and walked over to his wife and kids. “Go. We’ll continue our talk from before on another day. In the first place... I might think of a better plan if you're lucky. It's possible that you won’t have to get shipped off to Arkhan again.”

Reivan nodded, following after him as he rubbed his lips. As he did, his thoughts momentarily zipped back to the Sage King, who he'd never even met.

A very old Transcendent died today. And with him died an era of balance between the three nations of the Sentorale Continent as well as heralded the beginning of the next one.

What had the Sage King been like, he wondered?

The ancient figure must have had his own goals and dreams. If so, were those aspirations harmful or were they beneficial to the world? Were they born of selfishness or benevolence? Was violence truly the correct answer? Did the Sage King truly have to die? Could they have reached an understanding if the parties involved got together to talk?

"Bubby? Let's play!"

As his niece once again tried to smash herself against his leg, Reivan decided to do away with questions of good and evil. Of right and wrong. Of possibilities that didn't come to be.

Who was he to decide which was which anyway? Who was he to decide if this outcome was better or worse?

He was just a tiny little speck of dust in this particular universe. And to him, justice was whatever ensured a hundred percent chance for his family to smile the same way his niece was doing right now.

Even if the price was the suffering of others.