341: Bringing the lost son back home (Arkin's POV)

Bringing the lost son back home (Arkin's POV)

"Seven years had passed since I left Lanark, my birthplace, and the city where I trained to become the Commander of the Second Order of Emorian knights... I left behind the woman I had grown up loving, my half-sister."2

He closed his eyes, revisiting the agonizing memory of escorting her down the aisle in her wedding dress, knowing he could only ever be her knight and her brother while she vowed her life to another man.

By the time he opened his eyes again, there were no lingering feelings – not the love he once had, nor the agony that accompanied it. Only wishes remained. Every time he thought of Adela, he wished she was happy with her husband wherever they might be.

But where were they now, anyway?

"Becoming a mercenary over a woman, eh?" The man standing next to Arkin mumbled with a deep, matching tone and an enormous physique.

Arkin contemplated that for a moment before he answered, smirking."Every nobleman dreams of freedom, but few dare to part with the wealth that comes with their titles. It wasn't just about freedom; it was about the blood... I had always entertained that notion, even before my unrequited love."

The man adjusted his eye mask and let out a hearty laugh. "You're quite the savage nobleman," he commented.

Arkin raised an eyebrow. "Would it be safe to say that it takes one to know one?"

"Now, now, it's still your turn for storytelling!"

"Right... Well, do you remember how I told you all about the countless battles I faced against monstrous foes? You'd be very surprised to know how much money piled up over the years." 

Arkin was on the verge of declining the payment offered by the man who had hired him when the intriguing client let out a sigh.

"Sounds like a lonely life. Is this why hiring you to accompany me on this trip was so easy?"

Arkin's face hardened. "It was wrong for me to detach myself completely. I should have left an ear here. News of the war between Varinthia and the allies reached me far too late."

"Well, I'm glad I was the one to inform you," the masked man replied.

Arkin barely heard the sentence. Even though he knew that the war was long since over, a gnawing sense of duty had tugged at his heart, compelling him to accept the offer to accompany the masked man who looked too terrifying to need a bodyguard back to Emoria.

"It's always better late than never, son. Don't you forget that."

"Son," the word rolled off Arkin's tongue bitterly. "You say it like you mean it."

"I do," came the earnest response.

Arkin clicked his tongue. "As if I need a third father to be disappointed in me."

"Hm. Well, whether they are disappointed or not, it looks like you'll soon find out."

The ship's hull creaked and groaned, marking its arrival at Lanark's bustling harbor after two months of traversing the oceans between the two continents. Loud cheers of happiness erupted, with tired and bored sailors and passengers pushing each other and laughing heartily. They cursed the seas while praising the land, their feet aching to feel the dirt beneath them.

"I am home, old man."

Arkin von Conradie felt the weight of a past he had tried to leave behind. But the sweet early summer breeze that carried the scent of Lanark had his heart pounding with excitement. It was a long journey back to the land he had once called his own, a land that held both love and heartache.

It is all behind me now; otherwise, I would not have set foot here.

"Yours was quite the story, young man," the masked middle-aged man said with a bright smile that brought light to his bronze skin. "Look at Lanark, it is quite something, isn't it?" He patted Arkin's back once, and Arkin could feel the extraordinary strength in the man's hand.

"...It is."

The former Commander's exhausted hazel eyes scanned the crowded harbor which had transformed significantly since his last visit, and he frowned as he rubbed his aching jaw. He had never been one to engage in casual conversation, and during his years as a mercenary, he had rarely opened up to anyone.

What was it about this peculiar masked man that had compelled Arkin to reveal his life's story?

"...Could you enlighten me as to why you hired me to accompany you here when you appear fully capable of defending yourself?"

When he turned to face the man again, all he found in the stranger's place was a bag of coins.

A whistle of pure awe escaped Arkin's lips. Not only was the man incredibly strong, but he was also remarkably stealthy! He bent down to pick up the bag and noticed that it was exactly as heavy as it should have been as he tied it to his belt.

"…You better not meet me again. Next time, it's my blade that will become acquainted with you!"

Arkin's shouts repelled the men around him, driving them to the furthest corners of the ship, as far away from him as possible.

As the ship's gangplank descended with a thud, Arkin's boots met the familiar cobblestones of Lanark's harbor. But before he could make his way into the Archduchy, a sudden commotion erupted around him.

What's going on here?

Knights wearing the silver armor of Emoria and the emblem of House de Lanark rushed about in disarray, their movements frantic, while the voices of the panicked populace filled the air.

"Warlock! Catch the blasphemous being!"

"Protect Their Highnesses! They've been injured!"

Arkin's sharp eyes, honed by years of vigilant observation as a mercenary, allowed him to discern the location of the two royals who had fallen victim to the warlock's attack from a distance.

A beautiful brunette that he quickly identified as Princess Sasha of Kolhis lay motionless, her face marred by the violence of the assault. But what shocked Arkin to his core was the sight of his biological father, Leopold von Conradie, sprawled on the ground beside her.

"What are you doing here?" Arkin shouted, pushing his way through the crowd to reach his father, forcefully clearing the space around the knights so that the physicians could finally attend to the scene.

"What happened!" the senior physician asked in a fluster.

"The Duchess and Duke von Conradie have fallen!" the knight accompanying the physicians urgently announced.

Duke?!

Arkin pushed his way through the crowd even more fiercely now, determined to reach his father, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness. That was when he spotted him: a cloaked man with an ominous aura surrounding him, his unnaturally black eyes fixed on an unconscious Princess Sasha.

In the nick of time, Arkin's instincts kicked in. His senses, honed by years of survival in the wild, led him to crouch before he leaped into action. He placed a hand on the shoulder of a tall knight and then sprang toward another warlock.

"Stop in the name of His Excellency, Kaiser de Lanark!" Arkin shouted, successfully capturing the attention of the assailant.

The warlock began reciting incantations, conjuring a blinding purple light ball and hurling it at Arkin.

With impressive agility, Arkin dodged the attack, causing the projectile to explode harmlessly upon hitting the sea waves. And without further hesitation, he unsheathed his blade as he reached the warlock, moving with deadly precision to eliminate the threat.

The warlock who had been reciting taboo dark magic again met his end on the spot.

"You!" The closest knight, whose mouth had dropped in admiration earlier, addressed Arkin. "Did you just say... His Excellency...Kaiser de Lanark?... Are you perhaps...are you... are you perhaps Commander Arkin?"

Arkin's gaze shifted to his biological father, who had leaned against Princess Sasha to shield her from further attacks. Leopold's eyes were shut as he held onto his wife, possibly not recognizing anything that took place around them at all.

Guilt washed over Arkin's exhausted body. "...I am no longer your Commander, men," he muttered.

"It's Commander Arkin!" the knight who recognized Arkin's face exclaimed.

"Pass the word to the Archduchess immediately!" shouted another.

Arkin wasted no time, passing through the ranks of the stunned knights who made way for him. His sole focus was on reaching his father and the injured Princess Sasha, who was now, apparently, his stepmother.

What else had changed in Emoria during the seven years of my absence?

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