132 Vol.6 Ch.125-Assembled.

Morning everyone. Got a small tidbit here for you.

I saw a whole lot of assuming in the last chapter (Mostly on RR, to be fair). To me, there is a difference between theorizing and assuming, and I saw far more assuming on 124.

Keep in mind, regarding romance. I have yet to confirm anything with anyone. I hate spoilers, so I have no intention of confirming or denying anything. People who have been donating to Ko-Fi don't even get spoilers outside of their chapters. You can get mad at me/vent your personal opinions at me when/if the thing actually happens.

So until then, simmer down, cowboys and girls, and strap in for the ride. And remember, your comments won't change my mind either way.

I'll see you guys on October 24th at 6-9am PST.

---

<I missed you, Kal.>

…

Padraic released a long-winded sigh. "I told her not to do this. She broke the damn man in under a minute!" Padraic griped.

I could hear him smacking his meaty hands together as he furiously signed at Cerila. But, of course, I was barely paying attention to him as I could scarcely take my eyes off her. Despite Padraic's apparent frustration, Cerila didn't even seem to register him as she gazed into my eyes.

I had been expecting many things from this family reunion. I would often run the scenario in my head before going to bed…what I would say or do. Of course, I knew all that would be for naught when the moment finally arrived. There was no way someone like me could plan for something so…emotional.

And even with my wildest delusions, I never once imagined Cerila would greet me by kissing me. And nobody has kissed me like that before.

I mean, my mother and father kissed me when I was little, but I don't need to be told there was a difference between then and what just happened. Before this, I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference…but now that I had experienced it… the actions were similar.

They were most definitely not the same.

My heart was racing in my ears, and I slowly brought a finger to my lips. They felt unusually warm, and I swear they were moister than usual. I felt something progressively tug on the back of my shirt, and it was then I realized I had tuned out the entire world. Somewhere along the line, I just stopped listening to my surroundings, only the beating of my heart and the confusion swirling around in my head occupying my thoughts.

The sound of the classroom slowly began to fill my hearing. People were mumbling, and I could hear the voices of confusion and shock starting to spread and gradually get louder. I had completely forgotten where I was…my entire thought process had been solely focused on my family, and I had neglected to consider where I was. As a result, I had broken down, wailed like an infant, and been thoroughly embarrassed in front of the entire class I'd spent nearly a year with.

I felt my face flush, my ears burned, and finally, I felt something hit my back. I turned around and caught multiple people watching me with wide eyes. Some were crying, others were just so confused, and some looked incredibly uncomfortable. I even saw Sylvia standing as straight as a board, unmoving. Her one dark blue eye was so wide I thought it looked bigger than the hole the mask had.

Mila had been tugging at my jacket, and just like everyone else, I had ignored her. Her eyes were red, but she didn't have a look of sadness, just confusion on her face. "Why—sniff—why are you crying?" she asked me.

I rubbed my eyes again, and sure enough, I was still crying. Why was it that I was still crying? My mind is a vortex of conflicting emotions. I also hadn't realized just how many tears I'd been building up.

Apparently, I hadn't answered Mila's question fast enough as she pulled on my shirt again, more tears flowing from her eyes. "Daddy? Daddy, why are you crying?" she asked me again in Beastmen.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to exhale, but it just came out as a stuttered breath, like I was trying to breathe in while crying. Which only served to increase my embarrassment and made me somewhat frustrated that I had broken down to this point in front of, well…everyone.

"What did that little girl say?" Mom asked.

I could hear my father shrug as his armor slid over itself. "I don't know. My Beastmen is a little rusty," my dad commented.

"This is—"

I finally mustered the willpower to answer Mila's and my mother's questions, but when I turned to face my family again, my eyes couldn't help but fall upon Professor Garrison. During this entire time, he hadn't said a single word or dropped his stance. The man was sweating profusely, and it looked like he had dunked his head into a bucket of water.

He maintained his combat-ready stance, his sword high above his head and tip pointed toward us. His entire body was shaking, and I didn't understand why. He was a War God. Despite his jagged black sword being massive, he should be able to hold his sword above his head for hours. Yet I couldn't help but feel that Professor Garrison looked about ready to break down or attack….almost in fear.

"Professor?" I questioned.

With my obvious concern, everyone's eyes followed mine, and we all seemingly cornered him with our gazes. His glasses had been pushed down his nose, most likely due to his short ragged breaths. His green eyes darted around until they eventually locked onto my father.

The professor licked his lips, not in what seemed to be anticipation but in an attempt to calm his nerves. "G—g-general? Is that really you?" he struggled to say.

My dad looked at him for a moment with a blank expression that surprised me. I had never seen my father look at somebody like that before, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"You…you are Garrison? Right? It's been a while…you got bigger and those glasses are..uh…nice? Sorry about not recognizing you. Humans tend to age to a point where it's difficult to remember them," my dad said awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his head.

I could hear the distinct sound of Professor Garrison swallowing a large amount of saliva. He shook his head from side to side in disbelief. "It…it can't be you…you died. I watched you get stabbed through the heart. There was nothing. Not even a drop of blood remained. You just vanished."

My dad shrugged but nodded his head. "Well, I suppose it may have appeared that way…" my dad trailed off. "But I assure you it's me, and I am alive. The tip never did reach me."

Professor Garrison shook his head as if he was ignoring the reality before him. I saw an almost primal fear in his eyes. Yet, even when he fought the Dragon, the professor didn't seem to be this shaken.

His eyes narrowed and locked onto my mother. "That's not possible. This can't be real…I watched her kill you. So what are you doing with the Lightning Witch of Tel'an'duth?" he spat.

The Lightning Witch of Tel'an'duth?

I looked at Mom, and she, unlike my father, wasn't bothering to hide her hostility toward the professor. Instead, she sent him a glare full of hate and resentment. It was enough to surprise even me. I had seen my mother angry before but never had I seen her look so menacing.

She brought a slim finger to her chin and smiled devilishly at the professor as recognition flashed in her golden eyes. "Ah, I remember you. I'm surprised you survived my poison and being stabbed in the liver. You were that fresh-faced War God, were you not? The one that got posted to Ryre Hold on the border?"

I watched as Professor Garrison tightened the grip around his sword and practically snarled at Mom. Just when I thought I couldn't get any more confused, it seemed I was once again proven wrong. What the hell are these two talking about? Poison? Stabbing someone in the liver?

"I may have never seen your face, but I'd never forget those eyes or that voice. You…you killed everyone! Explain—"

"Stand down, Garrison," my father ordered in a cold voice.

Professor Garrison winced at the frigidness of my father's command, but he maintained a solid grip on his sword, and Mila grabbed my waist from behind. Things were escalating and showed no signs of cooling down. Even Bowen was watching with a curious expression, seemingly okay with how things were playing out.

I forced down all my emotions into the pit of my stomach and felt a cold wave wash over me. No matter what I felt at the moment, I wouldn't stand for this.

I gently removed Mila's arms and walked forward until I was nearly at the point of his sword. "Put down the blade, Professor. You are pointing that at my family," I said coldly.

For the first time in a while, the professor looked me straight in the eyes. Something seemed to have clicked in his head as he slowly stood up, his sword disappearing into thin air. "This is…your family?" he asked me hesitantly.

"Yes."

Professor Garrison slowly backed away from me until he bumped into the wall. I wasn't sure if he ceased his hostility because I was threatening him or because he actually valued me enough as a student. If I had to make an honest guess, I think it's the latter.

He allowed his body to slide down until he was in a crouched position, leaving a trail of sweat down the wall. He placed his face in his hands without another word.

I turned around to find literally everyone watching me. Dozens upon dozens of eyes were watching me. Even my parents seemed surprised at my actions as they looked at me with wide eyes. Then, finally, I looked at Mila; she was nervously rubbing her hands together while her little ears were flat against her cap.

I could only sigh.

"We should leave."

—

Bowen guided us toward the same home Sylvia, and I stayed in when we first arrived at Forward University. We kept the conversations at a minimum as we all knew there would be a long-winded session ahead of us.

I, of course, introduced Mila and Sylvia to my family but only briefly. I also didn't immediately mention that Mila was technically my daughter, as I thought that would need a rather lengthy explanation to avoid having my family freak out in public. I would absolutely explain things in great detail soon enough. Sylvia simply gave a rather meek greeting and said nothing more, following behind me in brooding silence.

We were nearly at the front door when somebody poked me in the side. I turned to look, and Cerila was just smiling at me. <Have you been well?> she asked me.

The nervousness encroaching on my heart made me hesitate for a moment, but I pushed through it. <You could say that. Or more like, I've just been okay. A lot has been going on.>

Cerila kept pace with me but made an unfamiliar gesture to me. I must have had a dumb look on my face as she quickly blushed and began apologizing. <I'm sorry. I forgot that you might not know some of my new signs.>

Ah…of course, that's the case.

Without me around, there must have been dozens of new words Cerila had to come up with to fill the gaps she was missing. I tried to write down every word and sign for her that I could, but it wasn't as simple as just writing a letter. I also figured as time progressed, we would continue to learn at a consistent pace…but life interrupted that.

But I have to wonder what she was trying to ask me. If it was just a basic conversation, there shouldn't have been this much of a disconnect. Or maybe she has fully developed a sub-version of Sign Language at this point? Either way…

<It's okay. To be expected even. I'm happy that you continued to learn without me.> I explained.

That brought a gentle smile to her face as her tail swished side to side. Cerila seemingly wanted to tell me something as she closed her eyes and wiggled her ears, a tell she had when she was thinking hard about something. It made me happy to see that she hadn't changed that much.

I also had many questions for her, but I felt like now wasn't the time. Nobody seemed willing to talk about Cerila just up and kissing me like that, and I had a feeling getting into the finer details would take things in the wrong direction. I also felt that this was a conversation she and I needed to have…in private.

And why does that make me so nervous? I was never nervous to speak to her…why is it that I'm feeling like this now of all times? Shouldn't I be excited? Thrilled? Ecstatic to be with her now? This is what I've been waiting for almost seven years. Why am I anxious?

I pushed those thoughts away for what felt like the umpteenth time this hour and decided to have a more pressing question answered. <Cerila, what happened after I disappeared? Did my spell work? Did Dad find you?>

I had crafted a spell that day to do multiple things. I had the rock face reach out and grab Cerila, encasing her in a tomb of stone. Of course, the tricky part for me back then was making sure I did it so that Vampire didn't notice her, and I had to make holes at very specific angles so as to not have Cerila drown from the sea or rainwater. There was also the quick decision to leave enough holes and space so she could breathe while also not being too big to be instantly noticed. Thankfully, the darkness and the storm covered any of my shortcomings.

Either way, crafting such an intricate spell at seven years old when I was nearly dead…I just got lucky…and if nobody had found her…then it would have been for nothing.

A look of profound sadness washed over her, but she never stopped smiling, even if it seemed strained now. <When you pushed me, I was so scared that you had finally betrayed me. But when the rocks came out to grab me, and I found myself in safety, I knew what you had done.>

<I see. So you were found then…hopefully, it wasn't a long wait.>

She shook her head. <I'm not sure how long I was in there. I fell asleep from crying so hard or from running out of air. I woke up and found out Dad had saved me and that you were gone.>

Dad? Ah…of course, it was only a matter of time until Cerila began calling my parents Mom and Dad.

Speaking of Dad, that brought to light a whole new question. My dad has been looking for me for somewhere between five and six years. That means he left Mom and Dallin behind, most likely. And I'm confident that the somewhat awkward atmosphere wasn't just my fault.

Dallin stuck to Mom like glue while Bowen questioned him much as he did to me when I first revealed myself. Dad was walking a few paces behind them in complete silence. I couldn't see his face, but I could see that he was looking down at Dallin. I can't be sure how long it took to gather them all up or who was last to be picked up…but something tells me my dad hasn't been around Dallin much. And that must be eating away at him.

He left one son behind to look for another. A brutal, heart-wrenching choice. It made me feel good that he made that choice for my sake, but it couldn't have been easy for him or Mom. And it certainly wasn't easy on Dallin.

Yet…Dallin doesn't seem to resent me…why is that, I wonder?

If I were in his shoes, I might just hate the brother I'd never met. The same brother who disappeared and, in turn, took his only father. And I know my disappearance must have crushed Mom, which most likely affected Dallin.

He has every right to hate me. Or could it be that he is a reincarnation?

I focused my Dragon eye on him directly and ensured nobody else was in my direct vision. I felt that if I fed even an ounce of mana into my eye with this many people here at this distance, I'd run the risk of knocking myself out cold. After all, I had three War God level people walking in front of me.

It still brought a wave of discomfort and sharp pain in the back of my head which felt like the visual cortex part of my brain. Of course, that didn't surprise me. My body was not meant to process information like this, and I doubt my brain has adapted to my new eye so soon. That was probably going to take some more time. Either way, I ignored the pain and fed mana into my eye.

Ah…that's a relief.

Dallin's tiny soul seemed to be entirely normal for someone his age, as it was comparable to Mila's. I felt a piercing gaze and, out of instinct, turned to look at Cerila. I was rewarded with searing pain, and a blinding white light blocked the vision in my left eye. I stumbled forward, and it appeared I hadn't learned my lesson.

I cut mana off to my eye immediately and found my arm being enveloped in a sweet softness. Cerila had caught me and was stopping me from falling to the ground. I heard Sylvia shuffle behind me, but she stopped, and everyone turned to look at the commotion.

I hadn't even thought Cerila might have been at War God level, but it appears she is. Her soul is far brighter than mine, which explains many things growing up. Despite both of us getting similar training, Cerila was always a better mage than me. Her advantage in mana enhancement came from the fact she had a headstart and was older than me, along with being a Beastmen.

However, it seems she was always destined to best me in this regard. Perhaps her natural talent just exceeds mine that much? Does she just not realize her potential? When does somebody finally realize they are at the level of a War God or an Exarch?

Cerila locked our arms together and let her head rest on my shoulder. While thinking about souls and Dallin and our family situation, I realized that I had neglected to communicate with her as I got lost in thought.

She brought a single hand up to sign. <Thank you for saving me. I will never forget what you sacrificed, and I promise you will never regret what you did for me.>

<Cerila, I would never regret what I did. That thought never even crossed my mind. Don't—>

Cerila gently placed her hand on mine and stopped my attempt to sign; something told me she meant something very specific when she said that. She looked over at me and just smiled brightly at me. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and my heart pounded in my chest. It was a beautiful and heartwarming smile. There was a part of me that even had to suck in a tear.

It felt like I had blinked, and Cerila had grown up before my very eyes…

I heard the pitter-patter of shoes as Mila bumped into me. She looked up at me with a mixture of concern and genuine confusion. "Daddy, what are you doing with your hands?" Mila asked me in Beastmen.

I was somewhat confused as to why she was defaulting to Beastmen, but I was unbelievably thankful for it. Perhaps she felt nervous around all these new people I was interacting with. I imagine that family must "smell" like each other to some degree, which would mess with her senses. Of course, that's just a guess on my part, but maybe I can ask at a later date.

"I am talking to her using my hands," I explained.

That only seemed to grow Mila's confusion more as she furrowed her brows. "Why?"

"Because she can't hear us."

Mila looked at me like I had said something stupid, and her blue eyes slowly drifted over to Cerila. She looked her up and down, and eventually, Mila just sort of gazed at Cerila's ears with a confused expression.

Perhaps for a Beastmen and a child at that, explaining deafness may be a tricky thing. As people with functional hearing, it's a weird thought to think about deafness, true deafness, that is. Even if Mila or I were in a completely and utterly silent and soundproof room, we would still hear ourselves breathing and the beating of our hearts if things got quiet enough. However, Cerila, somebody who was born completely deaf, had never heard a sound in her entire life.

Mila just gave up on asking me and looked at me with a face that was begging me to explain things to her. I chuckled slightly and patted her on the head. "Cerila can't hear you because she was born that way. She has never heard a sound before and, because of that, can't hear us talk."

Mila once again looked over to Cerila, and Cerila just gave her a friendly smile and waved. Mila stared blankly at her in return. "But she has ears?"

"I know that. Perhaps I'll teach you some Sign Language. Maybe I should have done that bit sooner," I told her.

Mila nodded her head, seemingly unconvinced by my explanation, but she didn't ask any more questions. However, I still felt everyone's eyes on me. Mom and Dad looked at me with expressions that practically screamed for me to explain myself. But the same reason that has kept them quiet until now seems to be stopping them.

Even Padraic was giving me a side eye, and I could tell he was holding in a snarky comment, as now wasn't the time for that. Padraic used to be a master of making things awkward, but he may have learned to restrain himself somewhat over the years. I wasn't sure if that was a byproduct of growing up or if the stress of my disappearance forced him to change.

And I have a terrible feeling it may be the latter.

I heard somebody coming from behind me, and I was pushed slightly while my other arm was wrapped in warmth. I was face to face with Sylvia. Her bronze mask had been polished and slightly reflected my face. I looked…tired and beat down. My eyes were puffy, and my face was red.

To be honest, I looked terrible. I felt like I should be far more excited. Did I just cry all my emotions out and was left with nothing but this anxiety? I…don't know anymore.

But Sylvia managed to get my heart rate up, and my arm went deeper into her chest, she even tugged on me slightly, and everyone was watching with wide eyes. Even Padraic seemed surprised. The only two people who weren't confused were Mila, smiling softly, and Bowen, who had a knowing look. Mom took a step forward, but Dad stopped her with a shake of his head.

Somehow we had managed to communicate a lot of things just now without speaking a single word…some of it I had missed, but Sylvia's frustration was evident to everyone. She had been staying silent this entire time for a reason…a reason that I believed was that I had been ignoring her.

I had barely spoken to her since I found out Lin was Nyx, and with the arrival of my family taking all my attention away, I had neglected her. This only added to pressure building in my heart, and I felt like I should be enjoying this, but I wasn't. I wanted to just crawl into bed and let a different me deal with this tomorrow.

Either way, Bowen guided us forward. We walked into the home, and as I was familiar with it, I didn't need to be told where to go. I quickened my pace to get in front of everyone and opened the door to a sitting room. My heart sank into my chest as a pair of green eyes glared at me from behind two pieces of thick glass.

Everyone had changed to some degree…even I had changed significantly in the last seven years. But…the man sitting in that chair had changed the most. Grandpa was, of course…always old. He was over eighty years old, and for a Human in this world, that's ancient.

But even so, despite his physical age, he never seemed to struggle to do anything. There was always a certain power to his presence and how he moved and interacted with things and people, which made me second-guess his age. He was independent and never required assistance to move around, even so much as walking around the village as a doctor. I never once thought he would have been incapable of his duties.

But the man who was sunk into that leather armchair looks old. Very old.

His face looked like it had gained double or triple the wrinkles it had before, and he looked about ready to take a nap. Even his breathing seemed labored and tired. That edge he had to him appeared to have withered away with his health. Even those emerald green eyes that helped usher me into this world looked like they had lost some of their luster.

I wanted to lash out and yell at the world for letting this happen. It wasn't fair that I didn't get to spend more time with him. I always knew deep down he wouldn't live forever…I mean, it's impossible for him…I'd live a much longer life than Grandpa. But just because it was reality didn't make me feel any better.

I just hadn't realized just how much I missed this old man. So now I just need to make up for the lost time.

But his demeanor didn't seem to have changed. I couldn't discern the look in his eyes. Was he happy to see me? Angry? Disappointed? I just couldn't get a bead on it. But I could tell he was looking at me expectantly.

I took a deep breath to calm my frayed nerves. "Hello, Rorken."

I heard a surprised gasp from Mom, but Grandpa didn't seem the least bit shocked. Instead, a smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, which was all I needed to know to discern the truth. It was like he expected me to know at this point. But now that I had seen Grandpa again, I was confident that he was undoubtedly Rorken Bloodfallen, the Exarch from the Holy Kingdom that attempted to invade Syn'nari.

I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Was it wrong that I didn't seem to care? I can hardly judge a man fighting on orders from his country. Whether they were right or wrong doesn't matter to a soldier. There's also the reason why he chose to stay and hide away in a village of the country he attempted to invade. He could have just gone home and retired if he wanted a simple life. If he were as strong as people said he was, not many would have been able to stop him.

"It's good to see you, boy. Why don't you sit down? We have much to talk about."