Chapter 379: Providence Favours the Brave.

CH379 Providence Favours the Brave.

***

"Magnificent, isn’t it?" Drake said the moment Alex reached his side.

Alex blinked in mild surprise.

"I’m surprised you can appreciate the complexity and skill behind its creation, father," Alex remarked.

"I’m not talking about the portal itself." Drake gave him a sidelong glance. "I’m speaking about the prospect it represents."

"Oh." Alex resisted the urge to shake his head. ’I thought as much.’

Drake continued, voice calm yet heavy with meaning.

"Beyond that portal could lie one’s boon or one’s damnation. Yet we all rush toward it like moths toward flame. We even send our children running toward it—all for the promise of power. A great allure... for those fortunate enough to survive."

"In your defence, father, I would still have run toward it," Alex said. "Like you said, I am fortunate as well as unfortunate to be a Fury. The enemies of the Fury name will swallow me whole if I don’t gain power. With or without you, I would have stepped through these gates. If anything, I’m glad I have your aid."

Drake didn’t respond—at least, not outwardly.

Then something in his expression shifted. His gaze scanned Alex from head to toe... then drifted unerringly toward Zora.

A knowing smirk curled on the Earl’s lips.

"Well done, boy. You are a man now."

Alex almost blushed. Almost. But he had grown a thicker hide recently, so he forcibly steered the conversation away.

"Father, I left a retainer at the Enclave. Her name is Asta. She’s training to become a full-fledged Spatial Mage. She’s following the Enclave’s systematic curriculum which means, once she graduates, she’ll be able to build a similar system for our house. I—"

"I will ensure she is well provided for in your absence," Drake interrupted.

Alex hadn’t even finished before the Earl deduced his intention. Indeed, this was an opportunity the Fury family couldn’t afford to squander.

DragonHold Enclave-grade was one of—if not the—best quality of any resource available on the market in the Empire.

Alex smiled, satisfied.

But then Drake added, without the slightest hint of shame:

"But you will reimburse the family for the costs when you return."

Alex’s smile twitched.

"Hey, I’m doing this for the family’s benefit," Alex protested.

"You are now a baron with a fief to manage. You take care of your own branch first before you start thinking of the entire Family." Drake’s voice was calm but unyielding. "When you have Spatial Mages to offer, then you can negotiate with us."

He glanced to his son.

"Catering to the Fury Family is good. But remember which family you belong to. If you don’t have your own power, then you have no right to speak. Focus on building your strength first. We’ve survived this long—we won’t perish before you grow."

Alex was left tongue-tied.

"Understood, father," was all he managed to say.

It was only before Drake—and perhaps Merlin—that Alex acted his physical age.

Maybe it was because he had been an orphan in his previous life. So standing before Drake, the man who was the closest to a father figure as any he had ever known –one he felt privileged to have, he couldn’t help slipping into the role of a ’son’ before the ’man.’

"The fifteen-man squad over there will accompany you." Drake tilted his head toward a group of well-armed knight-soldiers standing some distance away.

They bowed immediately when they noticed both Drakes looking their way.

Alex gestured for them to head toward his main party, and they quickly dispersed to join the others.

"All of them are Intermediates. That’s good," Alex said. "But still—only fifteen? I paid fifty thousand gold to hire them, not to mention the hundreds of thousands I spent equipping them."

"You’re hiring them for an undetermined period. When you return, take it up with the relevant department and you’ll get your rebate." Drake’s reply was calm, matter-of-fact.

"At least tell me they threw in the horses," Alex muttered.

"They did. Your Nightmare Horse has already established control over them." Drake gestured toward a spot out of Alex’s immediate line of sight.

Following his gaze, Alex spotted Dread basking lazily in the sun before a herd of nearly thirty horses.

Each one was a superior breed of horse-type magical beast—reliable on almost any terrain.

They would have cost him a fortune if he had tried to acquire them on his own... if he could even find any. Such beasts were usually snatched up by major powers long before they ever reached the open market.

Seeing the herd eased the sting of the Fury Army’s blatant "rip-off."

Just then, the spatial mages signalled an all-clear to Earl Drake.

"Alright. The gate is open. Get going," Drake instructed.

Alex’s lips twitched, but he signalled for his party and the newly joined knight-squad. They began moving toward the active gate.

Alex, however, stayed beside Drake.

"And what are you waiting for?" Drake’s eyebrows furrowed.

"Isn’t this the part where you impact me with some prophetic advice, as usual?" Alex replied.

Drake stared at him for a moment—then, surprisingly, nodded.

He stepped forward and placed both hands on Alex’s shoulders, looking directly into his eyes.

"War is a nasty business," Drake said quietly. "You can be ruthless when the need arises... but you still tend to choose the soft approach first. I’m not faulting that, but it seems to me that you have yet to fully grasp a certain truth."

Drake’s right hand travelled from Alex’s shoulder to his cheek.

"My boy... I remember everyone I have ever killed. And I know that, among them, there must have been someone’s father... someone’s son, someone’s brother or uncle. Someone important to someone."

His fingers trembled slightly against Alex’s skin as he spoke.

"I don’t wish the same weight for you... but this world will not leave you be."

Alex felt Drake’s hand shiver—an almost imperceptible quiver he had never seen before.

"Indeed, war is a nasty business, best avoided if one can. But, son..." Drake’s voice lowered, rough with truth. "It is better to have your head on your shoulders and your foe on their knees... than the other way around."

His eyes hardened with reluctant resolve.

"This is the rule of the game we are fated to play."

He patted Alex’s cheek, but there was nothing casual about the gesture. Worry—real, raw, unmasked concern—etched Drake’s face. Not worry for himself... but for Alex.

It was the most vulnerable expression Alex had ever seen from the Mad Earl.

"Remember, do whatever you must to survive.

"War is a nasty business."

Then Drake pulled Alex close by the neck and pressed his forehead against his son’s, holding him there for a moment—silent, steady, and painfully sincere.

When they separated, Drake’s expression slid back into his usual stoic calm, as if the moment had never happened.

"Go," Drake ordered.

Alex nodded, his body moving before his mind caught up. He walked toward the gate.

Ahead, he could see his party—his wives, his followers, his soldiers—already assembled upon the rune formation circle at the base of the towering, oval-sided, circular-bottomed conic interplanar gate.

Their faces turned to him, eyes filled with trust, expectation... responsibility.

Only then did Alex understand why Drake hid behind an iron mask of confidence.

Because his men needed a pillar, not a man who faltered.

Shaken as he was, Alex forced his turmoil down. His familiar, soft, confident smile returned, as if anchored into place.

He waved to his party, reassuring them.

Then he turned back to Drake.

"Father," Alex said, voice steady, "there is a saying in a tongue of old that fits a moment like this... Audentes fortuna iuvat."

Drake frowned slightly. "Audentes fortuna iuvat...? What does it mean?"

"Fortune—Providence—favours the brave," Alex explained.

He turned toward the monumental gate, stretching his arms theatrically toward its humming arch.

"And what is braver and bolder than, despite our fear, walking willingly into the unknown?"

Facing Drake once more, he said firmly, "Whatever will come, will come. And whatever comes I..." Alex stopped to look at his party, then turned back to Drake. "...we will survive."

"Audentes fortuna iuvat... Providence favours the bold."

With those final words, Alex marched toward the interspatial gate.

Behind him, Drake Fury watched his son go with a rare, wide smile on his face.

**(29/70)**