The morning mist clung to the trees like breath on glass, casting Emberleaf’s southern boundary in a pale silver veil. Kael stood at the edge of the forest beside a mana post—a slender pillar of carved darkheart wood, bound with copper thread and etched with glowing runes. Each one marked the invisible perimeter surrounding Emberleaf, a kind of passive barrier system he and Nanari had developed.
The post crackled faintly as Kael tapped one of the glyphs with a stylus tipped in raw quartz. A flicker of mana surged through the copper, and the runes flared gently in response. Satisfied, he leaned back and exhaled.
Behind him, Rimuru hovered lazily at shoulder height, emitting a soft green glow and rotating in slow circles like a sentient lantern.
“Unusual spike,” Great Sage announced in its usual deadpan tone. “Five approaching mana signatures. Four standard. One royal. Designation: Prince Garron Drayke.”
Kael froze mid-stretch. “...Seriously?”
“Distance: 1.4 kilometers. ETA: twelve minutes.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed as he turned toward the treeline. “He actually came.”
Rimuru flickered a pale yellow, pulsing with question-mark energy.
“Probability of emotional confrontation: 96%,” Great Sage added. “Probability of physical conflict: 3%. Probability of heartfelt hug: 1%.”
Kael snorted. “If he tries to hug me, I’m casting Fire Shield.”
He stood up fully, brushed moss off his knees, and adjusted his hoodie.
“Let’s go meet royalty.”
They moved quickly and quietly through the woods, taking the high ridge trail that looped down toward the southern path. Birds began to stir in the canopy, their calls muffled by lingering fog. Kael walked with practiced ease, dodging low branches and sliding over slick roots. Rimuru zipped between trees ahead, occasionally pinging back updates in the form of directional glows.
Kael knelt at a lookout point, crouching behind a curtain of ferns. Down the slope, five figures emerged from the haze—four knights in polished steel and navy tabards, and one figure in less ceremonial gear: his brother.
Garron.
He looked older. Not in years, but in posture. Tired shoulders. Mud-splattered boots. Still clean-shaven, still sharp-eyed, still annoyingly taller.
“Did he bring knights?” Kael muttered.
Rimuru pulsed red and gave an irritated jiggle.
“Of course he brought knights.”
The trail below curved through a fallen log and a shallow creek. The knights moved with caution, blades unsheathed but lowered. One cursed as he slipped in the mud.
“I’m telling you, no prince should live this deep in goblin country,” one of them whispered.
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“He’s not just a prince anymore,” Garron replied, brushing a branch out of his path.
A shadow dropped in front of them. Hood up. Staff in hand.
Kael.
He rose slowly from the crouch like smoke off the coals, Rimuru floating just behind him with a low, golden glow.
“You lost?” Kael asked with a smirk. “Or just sightseeing?”
Garron’s hand moved instinctively to the hilt at his hip. Rimuru immediately flared orange and zipped forward like a spark.
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Draw on me, fine. Draw on my slime, and I can’t promise you’ll still have hands.”
Silence.
Then Garron exhaled, hand lowering.
“You look like you’ve been living in a tree.”
Kael shrugged. “Better than hiding behind one.”
They walked in silence toward Emberleaf, the knights trailing behind Garron like wary dogs.
And then they saw it.
Huts made of bark and stone with mana glass windows. Elevated platforms woven between tree trunks. Goblin children with painted faces darted through the paths, tossing glowing spheres back and forth. A central plaza bubbled with life—blacksmiths at portable forges, gardeners harvesting blueroot.
Zelganna barked orders across a training yard where five armored goblins performed synchronized spear routines. Nanari, perched on scaffolding, shouted calibration numbers to a trio of workers installing a new mana vent system.
Rimuru floated ahead of the group, bobbing proudly.
Kael gestured lazily. “Welcome to Emberleaf. Don’t mind the goblin in the cabbage hat. He’s new.”
One knight whispered, “They’re... organized.”
Garron glanced around, stunned. “You built all this?”
Kael smiled faintly. “No. We built this.”
Zelganna blocked Garron’s path.
Tall. Silent. Muscle like granite.
“You a threat to our king?” she asked flatly.
Garron didn’t flinch. “Only to his fashion sense.”
A beat of silence.
Kael sighed. “That’s his way of saying hello.”
Zelganna stared for another long second, then nodded once. “I will not break his legs today.”
Garron raised an eyebrow. “Comforting.”
That night, Kael and Garron sat by a low fire in the central grove. Rimuru rotated skewers of sizzling mushrooms with focused dignity. Nanari sat nearby, pretending to sketch, but definitely listening.
“You scared them,” Garron said at last. “The nobles. The court. Mom.”
“I didn’t mean to disappear,” Kael said. “I just… found something worth staying for.”
Garron looked into the fire. “Some think you’ve been corrupted. Others think you’ve gone rogue. They’re saying things.”
“I bet they are.”
“Kael… they’re afraid of what you’ve become.”
Kael poked the fire with a stick. “Then they’re too late. I’ve already become it.”
Garron studied his face. “You sound like Father.”
Kael chuckled. “Guess we both inherited something.”
Later, Garron watched Rimuru bob beside the fire.
“She’s really that powerful?”
“She’s more than powerful,” Kael replied. “She’s loyal. She stayed when I had nothing.”
Rimuru demonstrated by igniting a small Heat Pulse, gently singeing the grass around her. One knight nearby nearly dropped his cup.
Great Sage added, “Combat rating: high. Loyalty index: 100%. Cuddle factor: maximum.”
Kael grinned. “You heard the system.”
Dawn crept across the treetops as Garron prepared to leave. Goblins lined the main path curiously, whispering and pointing at the knights.
Kael handed Garron a small wrapped parcel and a sealed letter.
“Give this to Mom. Tell her I’m safe. And that I’m not coming back. Not yet.”
Garron pulled something from his cloak—a bracelet made of braided mana-thread.
“She asked me to give this to you. Said it belonged to you.”
Kael stared at it for a long moment.
Then he looked at Rimuru.
“Rimuru, come here.”
The slime floated up. Kael tied the bracelet gently around her middle.
“If I wear it, it’s sentimental. If she wears it, it’s political. And adorable.”
Garron laughed.
They clasped forearms tightly.
“Next time,” Kael said, “don’t bring knights.”
“Next time,” Garron replied, “don’t vanish for a month.”
As the search party disappeared into the forest mist, Kael stood watching.
Zelganna joined him without a word.
“He meant well,” she said.
“He always does,” Kael replied. “That’s the problem.”
He looked toward the village, where goblins were already returning to work, and Rimuru perched proudly on his shoulder like a crown of light.
“No court. No palace. Just this. Just us.”
He smiled.
And Emberleaf endured.