Parental Love

When I woke up, it took me a moment to fully grasp what had happened.

A month had passed since the Sophomore Ball incident.

The entire world had been thrown into an uproar, and Mythos Academy found itself at the center of it all, scrutinized by powerful forces from every corner. It had even reached the point where the academy faced the threat of being shut down.

But that crisis was averted by a single man.

The Martial King.

He announced that he would be joining Mythos Academy as a senior professor, although he wouldn't be there year-round. With Magnus Draykar backing the academy, any further complaints were swiftly silenced. After all, this was the Martial King—arguably the most powerful man in the world.

I also learned that Magnus had personally stormed the Namgung residence to execute Drake Namgung, ending the situation with brutal efficiency.

As for Luke Orden, his fate was sealed. The conflict between the Imperial Family and Marquis Orden over Luke's execution had escalated, but in the end, Luke was put to death. The Orden family's title was downgraded from Marquis to Count, a symbolic punishment that reflected the disgrace Luke had brought upon them.

The world had shifted during my time in a coma, but now that I was awake, there was no more time to waste—I had to catch up.

The first thing I realized was that I had completed Stage 1 of the integration process. My mana core had undergone its first transformation. Given that today was the 17th of October, I was right on track to reach Integration-rank just before the Inter-Academy Festival. That, at least, was some good news.

The second thing was more unexpected.

I had unlocked my Gift.

Technically, it was my first Gift, since Lucent Harmony was Luna's will, but I counted it as my second Gift. It was powerful, yes, but not as overwhelmingly so as I had first imagined.

There were limitations.

For one, I could only access the abilities of those within a ten-meter radius. Second, I could only tap into the abilities of people who harbored a certain level of positive feelings toward me. The stronger their connection, the easier it was to use their powers. However, once that threshold was crossed, their feelings didn't matter anymore.

The biggest limitation was the final one: I couldn't repeat the same individual's abilities continuously. Once I used someone's powers, there was a cooldown period before I could draw from them again.

Of course, Luna was always bonded to me, so her abilities were a constant, but the restrictions on others meant I couldn't rely too heavily on this Gift. It was powerful but far from a trump card I could pull out at any time.

As these thoughts churned in my mind, I turned my attention to those closest to me.

The first to visit were, naturally, the three princesses.

Rachel, Seraphina, and Cecilia had visited me constantly during my coma, as the nurses told me, and now they gathered around my bedside. Rachel's usual composed demeanor wavered as she sat next to me, her hand gently holding mine, a mix of relief and worry clear in her blue eyes.

"I thought you wouldn't wake up," she admitted, her voice a quiet whisper.

I gave her a reassuring smile. "It takes more than that to keep me down, you know."

Seraphina stood beside her, her silver hair falling over her shoulder as she crossed her arms. "You pushed yourself too far. We couldn't help you—" she paused, her voice strained with frustration.

Cecilia, leaning against the wall, let out a sigh. Her crimson eyes softened as she looked at me. "You scared us, you know? Don't go pulling stunts like that again, Arthur."

I chuckled softly, though my body still ached. "I'm not planning to make this a habit."

The relief in their eyes was palpable, but there was also an unspoken tension. They hadn't been able to protect me in the last fight, and I knew that weighed heavily on all three of them.

"I'll be back on my feet soon," I reassured them.

Seraphina's lips quirked upward slightly, though her eyes still held a steely determination. "Next time, you won't be fighting alone."

They then left me.

The door creaked open, and I glanced up, expecting more nurses or perhaps one of the princesses returning.

But instead, it was my parents.

My mother rushed in first, and before I could react, she had her arms around me, pulling me into a tight embrace. "Arthur!" Her voice cracked with emotion as she buried her face in my shoulder. "You're finally awake!"

I felt a pang of guilt at how worried she must've been. My mother was rarely this emotional, always composed, always elegant—but now she was trembling as she held me close. I could feel her tears wetting my shirt, and for a moment, all the weight of the world fell away. In this room, I wasn't the rising star of Mythos Academy or someone with responsibilities that stretched far beyond what any sixteen-year-old should bear.

I was just Arthur. Her son. Or should have been if I didn't take over this body.

"I'm fine, Mother," I said, though my voice sounded a bit rough. "I'm awake now."

She pulled back just enough to look at my face, her own streaked with tears but smiling. "We've been so worried," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "When we heard how much damage you took, I thought—"

I gave her a reassuring smile, though I knew there was still pain etched across her face. "You don't need to worry anymore. I'm okay."

My father stood at the door, watching quietly. His usual stoic expression was softened, though his eyes were still as sharp as ever. He wasn't the type to show his emotions easily, but even he couldn't completely hide the relief in his gaze. He stepped closer, standing beside the bed, and for a long moment, he simply looked at me.

"I see you've been reckless again," he finally said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

I chuckled, even though the motion sent a small ripple of pain through my chest. "Seems like it."

His stern gaze softened just a little as he sighed, sitting down in the chair next to my bed. "You've been asleep for a month, Arthur," he said. "Your mother and I didn't know when—or if—you'd wake up."

"I'm sorry," I muttered, feeling the weight of his words sink in. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"We know," my mother said, brushing her hand gently through my hair. "But you did anyway."

Her tone was teasing, but the emotion behind it was clear. The last month must've been hell for them both.

"I'll be more careful next time," I said, and even though it sounded like a half-promise, I meant it. I didn't want to put them through this again.

My father sighed again, this time more in resignation than frustration. "Just... don't push yourself like that again unless you have to. You've grown stronger, yes, but you're still my son. Your mother and I... We don't want to lose you."

I blinked, surprised by the admission. My father was always so controlled, so pragmatic. But seeing him now, sitting beside me, his usually stern face softened with concern—it reminded me that no matter how much I pushed myself, they were still my parents. And they cared.

"I understand," I said quietly, feeling a warmth I hadn't realized I needed settle in my chest.

There was a comfortable silence that stretched between us, my mother still holding onto my hand as though afraid to let go. My father sat beside me, looking a little less imposing, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of peace.

"You've always been strong, Arthur," my mother whispered after a while, her thumb brushing over the back of my hand. "But you don't have to carry everything by yourself."

I nodded, though I didn't know how to respond. Part of me knew that I couldn't promise that—I had so many responsibilities, so many burdens that no one else could shoulder for me. But I could at least try.

"Take your time to heal," my father added. "The world outside can wait for a little longer."

I gave him a faint smile. "Thanks, Dad. I will." 

And in that moment, as we sat together in the quiet of the infirmary, I realized how lucky I was to have them.