A day later, Mixarnt blinked as Elyssia and Alyssia cornered him near the training grounds, where Arthur suggested to use the supreme teleportation scroll. Their twin gazes unreadable. Behind them, their royal knights lingered at a respectful distance—though their white-knuckled grips on their sword hilts betrayed their unease because they will need to report to the king that both princesses left with Mixarnt to watch the Aether Knight Trials..
"So," Elyssia began, her voice smooth as winter silk, "Father officially approved our engagement to you."
"S-Surprise!" Alyssia said with a blush.
Mixarnt was surprised. "Hah!?" His voice cracked. "Since when was that—"
"Since you left seven months ago, during the party where you denied all of father and mother's award for you." Elyssia interjected, adjusting her gloves with practiced nonchalance.
Alyssia still blushing added, "And since Father adores you—and you did save our kingdom—he stamped the documents immediately."
Mixarnt scratched his head. "Uh. Okay?"
Elyssia's eyebrow arched. "'Okay'? That's all you—"
"I mean, cool!" He shrugged, grinning. "You two are awesome. But why's Mika here?"
Behind them, Mika—breathing heavily from running and still dusting dirt from her guild uniform—waved cheerfully. "I filed leave! Enkin's furious I didn't warn him you were back."
Lancelot, observing nearby with Arthur, sighed. "Gods help us. The chaos follows this boy like a stray puppy."
Arthur just laughed, raising his canteen bottle. "To new headaches!"
Mixarnt shot a glare at Arthur and Lancelot, his voice a hushed growl. "This is exactly why I didn't want to come back to Caspade. But no—you just had to drag me here with your 'old man guilt trips.'"
Lancelot stroked his beard, unfazed. "You'll thank us when you're king."
Arthur smirked. "Or at least when you're not sleeping in stables anymore."
"Are you saying something?" Elyssia's voice cut through like a frostblade. She fixed Mixarnt with a gaze that could freeze lava, arms crossed. "After vanishing for months without a word, you're whispering now?"
Mixarnt's spine straightened like a soldier facing execution. "I-I said you're breathtaking! Radiant! The moon to my, uh... dumb adventurer face!" He threw in a shaky thumbs-up. "Love you?"
Elyssia's cheeks flushed crimson. She whirled away, suddenly fascinated by a nearby tree. "...Idiot." (The smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.)
Arthur coughed into his fist. "Smooth. Truly, the romantic poetry of our age."
Mixarnt mouthed "I hate you two." just as Lancelot unfurled a shimmering teleportation scroll. "Enough drama. Aetherlight awaits."
Alyssia grabbed Mixarnt's arm with close eyes.
The world dissolved in a swirl of light, leaving only Arthur's laughter echoing in the empty air.
Instantly, Mixarnt, Arthur, Lancelot, Princess Elyssia, Alyssia, and guild receptionist Mika arrived in Aetherlight. News of Arthur's return spread like wildfire, and soon the throne room was packed with former generals, advisors, and members of the royal family. The atmosphere buzzed with a mix of disbelief, joy, and anticipation.
Arthur glanced around, taking in the familiar faces before smirking. "I see... Good thing they kept my arrival a secret. Only close friends and family are here."
As Arthur stepped into the throne room, the room fell silent. All eyes were on him, and for a moment, he felt the weight of his past pressing down on him. But then he grinned, his carefree demeanor breaking the tension.
"Look who's all grown up," Arthur said, his eyes landing on Prince Artemion, who was standing beside King Arnold. "Last time I saw you, you were just a little squirt running around with a wooden sword."
Prince Art's eyes widened in shock. "Father...?"
Arthur raised a hand, his weathered face softening. "Don't call me that, kid. Arnold's your father now. I'm just the man who gave you your name." His voice was rough but warm. "Though I'm glad to see the man you've become."
Prince Art's breath hitched. Memories surged—of a kind father who'd suddenly withdrawn, who stopped meeting his eyes, who vanished from his life. For years, Art had carried that resentment... until Arnold finally told him the truth. "He stayed away because he feared his own darkness might hurt you."
"Damn geezer..." Art wiped at his eyes, his voice thick. Arthur's smile deepened, pride shining through as he studied his son—not just a prince, but a good man.
King Arnold stepped forward, his own eyes glistening. "Arthur... it's good to have you back." His voice wavered. "Even if only for a visit."
The brothers clasped forearms. "Good to be back," Arthur admitted, grinning. "But don't get ideas—I'm not staying. Caspade's my home now."
The hall erupted—laughter, shouts, the clatter of tankards as former generals and advisors swarmed Arthur. Theron, ever sentimental, openly wept, pulling Arthur into a crushing embrace. "You reckless old bastard!" he choked out, voice muffled against Arthur's shoulder.
Amid the chaos, Mixarnt watched, chest swelling with quiet pride. However small his role, he'd helped bring this moment to life.
Arthur raised his drink, the room falling hushed. "To Aetherlight!" His voice, once the command of a king, now carried the ease of a man who'd found peace. "To family—blood and chosen. And to new beginnings!"
"CHEERS!"
The roar shook the rafters. And for the first time in decades, Arthur Pendragon—once king, now wanderer—felt the weight of belonging settle over him again.