Chapter 385: Catching Up [I]

My bones were sore, so much so that I couldn’t put any real strength behind my joints.

The dull ache in my muscles didn’t help matters.

On top of that, I was really starting to miss my right hand.

What was the first person to ever milk a cow even thinking while they were... doing the deed?

— I used these kinds of thought-provoking questions to occupy my mind in a desperate attempt to keep it from focusing on the physical discomfort of my body.

...And to keep myself from thinking about the conversation I’d just had with my father.

Wait, that couldn’t even be called a conversation.

He had threatened me, apologized, and then... threatened me again?

"Anghh!" I groaned, limping down the marble stairs. As I passed, the guards and knights bowed their heads with way too much sincerity.

That was... new.

I mean, sure, they had always shown me respect because they had to. I was their Lord’s son, after all.

But

this

felt different.

It didn’t seem like an obligation or a routine.

Their bows now were deeper and slower. Some of them even held the position a second longer than necessary, as if acknowledging something beyond my mere title.

These were the kind of bows I had seen Ezra or Thalia receive from our servants and retainers.

I narrowed my eyes slightly as I passed another pair of knights. Just like the many before them, they also both lowered their heads the moment I came into view, gauntleted fists pressed firmly to their chests.

Respect.

They were showing real respect. Well, at least a hint of it.

"...Huh," I muttered under my breath, offering them a stiff nod before moving along. "So these mere mortals have finally started to grasp my greatness? And all it took was dying once!"

I tried to shake my head in disbelief, but found it held in place by a stern hand. "What the—"

Before I could curse whoever had the audacity to grab me like that, a sharp flick struck the back of my head.

—Smack!

I didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

"...Aunt M," I deadpanned, already massaging the back of my skull with my only hand. "You know, most people greet others with words. Or, at least, with a

gentler

assault."

"I did greet you," Morgan Kaiser Theosbane replied, appearing at my side and using an overly sweet tone to address me. "Remember when I said,

’Sam, you’ll die on this journey!’

or

’Sam, you’re walking to your death! Don’t go!’

? Remember that? I greeted you plenty back then."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "As you can see, Auntie, I’m fine. Only one hand down and a few minor scratches."

"Sam, I saw your filled wounds!" The facade in her voice dropped, replaced by an anxious concern. "And you just said it yourself! You died! Your friends told us you died!"

She stepped in front of me, halting my path and forcing me to meet her gaze. She looked like she was trying very hard not to break down... or break

me

for not listening to her.

Up close, the usual playful sharpness in her golden eyes was gone, replaced by something raw and unguarded.

Her fingers tightened on my shoulder, as if she needed physical confirmation that I was actually there. That I was actually alive.

"You..." she exhaled shakily. "You really died in that godforsaken jungle. What if you hadn’t come back? I still can’t wrap my head around

how

you came back."

I opened my mouth, but the words failed me.

For a second, I wanted to wave my hand and crack a joke like:

’If you think I’m beaten up, you should’ve seen the other guy. Oh wait, you can’t! I killed him!’

— but for the sake of my own safety, I abandoned the attempt at humor.

She waited there as if giving me a window to say something meaningful. When I didn’t, she simply swiveled and started walking in the direction I was headed.

I followed after her, picking up my pace to match her brisk stride to the best of my current capabilities.

"Is it true, then?" she asked, throwing the question into the air without looking back. "Everything your friends told us."

I still didn’t know

how much

they had actually told them.

Surely they wouldn’t be foolish enough to mention my knowledge of the Demon Princes, right?

I knew at least Michael wouldn’t be that careless.

...Right?

Yeah...

I decided I couldn’t trust his discretion at all, so I answered my aunt’s question with one of my own. "What

exactly

did they tell you? They have a bad habit of exaggerating for dramatic effect, you see."

Lady Morgan’s pace didn’t falter, but her sharp eyes flicked toward me as she answered, "Enough to unsettle the Elders. Some of them are even swaying to your side, can you believe it? Those old geezers favoring you? It was also more than enough to impress Thorax."

I blinked. "Okay, that... doesn’t really clarify much."

And what did she mean that the Elders were favoring me? Swaying to my side for what?

Certainly they weren’t thinking of withdrawing their support for Thalia’s claim to my father’s seat? He had selected her himself.

While their voices held a heavy weight in our family, I really doubted the Elders could actually do anything to overturn the Duke’s decree. Not about his heir selection, at least.

Plus, being an heir was about far more than just individual prowess. It was also about responsibility.

So sure, I had been ahead of Thalia for a while now, but I hadn’t yet proven I could be trusted to be put in charge of a dynasty.

Aunt Morgan huffed a quiet laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. "Basically, your friends detailed the journey you all had been on. They described the beasts you all faced and the encounters you all barely survived. They told us how you all had to go through an intelligent Beast, and how you escaped the

Fallen God

on the

Lake

’s shore. But especially... they told us about how

you

killed him. How

did

you kill him, Sam?"

I exhaled, feeling some of the tension draining from my shoulders.

From the sounds of it, they hadn’t said a word about the confidential topics I’d explicitly asked them to keep between us.

It also seemed like they didn’t mention knowing anything about Vaeghar, describing him as some sort of intelligent beast. That was smart of them as well.

I never doubted them.

Relieved, I shrugged. "If they told you everything, then you must already know the answer."

My aunt shook her head, a few stray strands of hair more golden than actual gold falling over to frame her face. "According to them, they weren’t there to witness the showdown in person. That commoner boy was being mind-controlled by the

God

, yes? So no one actually saw the fight, only the end result."

Okay, that checked out too.

I’d only asked because I wanted to know if they had accidentally spilled anything about Michael’s sword. It seemed they hadn’t.

I didn’t know why I was so suspicious. It was just in my nature, probably.

But deep down, I should’ve known that after going through hell and back together, they weren’t the type to betray one another.

...Okay, maybe Juliana and Vince weren’t a guarantee. But everyone else was solid.

At the very least, I could trust them not to blab details that could get us all killed — or worse, put me in a troubling situation where I actually had to

work

.

I sighed. "Well... I don’t know, Aunt M. I’ve tried to remember, but the memory is hazy. I think I just got lucky."

My aunt slowed her pace and squinted at me. "Sam, you don’t

get lucky

into killing a fallen deity. I should know. Your father and I have killed a few. A being like a fallen god is so in sync with reality that they just become a part of the cosmos itself. To kill such a being, you must exert your Spiritual Pressure onto them. That’s why simple bullets or bombs can’t kill creatures or humans with a high Soul Rank."

Yeah, I know that

now

.

Back then, I didn’t. So I just listened to her with a deepening frown, then shrugged again.

"I really have no idea," I insisted.

The

Queen of Smiles

stared at me incredulously before echoing a similar sigh. "Fine. We’ll pick this up later. For now, follow me."

With my brows knitted together, I lifted my chin in protest. "Right now? Where? I was going to check up on—"

"To get you a new hand," she spoke over me and kept walking.

•••

Look, I’d be the first to admit my family was pretty toxic. Everyone clearly had some issues that needed a lot of therapy to resolve.

I’d also be the first one to admit that being a Theosbane, or any high noble, was awesome as fuck!

Hmm? Do you need a new ride? Oh, here, take your personal jet.

Pocket money? Sorry, I don’t have change in my wallet right now. Would you like to get an exotic beach house instead?

What? You fancy a jade beauty but she already has a commoner fiancè who’s refusing to back down?! Is he courting death?! Let’s call the Elders and wipe out his bloodline!

You get the point, right?

So when my aunt casually offered me a new limb, I didn’t even flinch. Yeah, so what? This was totally normal.

In fact, why did they even bother asking? They should’ve grown me a new right hand while I was passed out!

Tsk, tsk.

Such incompetence left a sour taste in my mouth.

Where was our family headed? Was this the standard we were setting now? Truly, such a disappointment.

I was ashamed.

Anyway, while Aunt Morgan flitted down the opulent hallways of gold and polished marble flanked by dozens of guards, I limped behind her, slightly short of breath.

My body had taken more of a toll than I had initially realized.

Noticing that, Aunt Morgan slowed down. "Should I call a knight to carry you?"

I glowered at her in disgust. "Ew! No? I don’t want to be carried by sweaty gross men in sweaty gross armor!"

"Okay," she nodded like that was a perfectly reasonable answer, before proposing another solution like that solved everything. "Should I call female knights instead?"

I... paused, then I abruptly shook them away. "No! No, Aunt M! I don’t wish to be carried at all! What am I, some royal infant?!"

"Uh-huh," she said, tilting her head in that infuriatingly sweet way. "Of course, of course. You are a grown man. Why would you need a hand— oh, wait!"

I was pinching my nose by now. Was she seriously making stupid dad jokes? "Can you, like... shut up?"

She burst out laughing.