Chapter 889: 889
"You are allowed to make mistakes, Leiko. You have myself, and you have your father. We might not be the best parents in Nana, we might have been absent, but we are all that you have got. And nothing in this world will change that, not even Murmur."
She finally spoke the name aloud. The moment the syllable left her lips, she felt a phantom, chilling gaze pierce through the very space around her, pressing against her soul from some distant depth. But Yuki didn’t flinch. She kept her eyes locked entirely on her son.
"I gave birth to no fool," she said, her voice steady against the unseen pressure. "Go back to him. Tell him that I accept his extended hand for help."
Yuki turned her back to him, facing the tactical map once more, though her shoulders remained tense. "I don’t know what you plan on doing next, Leiko. But as long as you understand and remain fully aware that the man is far more dangerous than you can ever comprehend... then it is okay. Your mistakes? Your father and I will pick them up ourselves."
Leiko stood completely stunned, the words hanging heavily in the silence of the room. The absolute certainty, the fierce, unconditional protection of a mother he thought had abandoned him to the throne, shattered his composure. A deeply complicated look washed over his face as a strange, unfamiliar warmth welled up inside his chest, an emotion so completely foreign to his blood that it instantly made him deeply annoyed.
Leiko smacked his lips in annoyance as he threw open the heavy doors and walked out. The suffocating warmth and sudden vulnerability of that room had made him deeply, intensely uncomfortable. He preferred the cold certainty of calculations, not the messy, uninvited reality of maternal protection.
Meanwhile, far to the south, a very different kind of tension was unfolding within the borders of the Silver Kingdom.
As Princess Lunara and her thousands of werewolf vanguard settled into their new territory, the initial atmosphere between the two distinct races was rough. The mortal humans looked upon the towering wolflings with an instinctive, evolutionary dread, while the wolves eyed the humans with their usual skepticism.
Yet, the ice did not just melt, it shattered almost overnight, giving way to a connection rooted entirely in their shared reverence for the moon goddess, Mahu.
For generations, the people of the Silver Kingdom had built their culture around the worship of the silver moon, proudly regarding themselves as the humble children of Mahu’s light. But the wolflings? The wolflings carried Mahu’s divine blood flowing directly through their veins. To the mortal humans, meeting these wolves was like stepping face-to-face with living icons of their faith. The wolflings were the direct children of the deity they had prayed to for centuries.
This realization sparked an immediate, sweeping wave of reverence across the human populace. Priest, citizens, and silver knights alike treated the migrants with immense hospitality and awe.
But the godlings were not easily won over this time. Having deeply internalized their past interactions with the Southern Empire, where over-familiarity and messy political entanglements had almost led to a fall out.
The wolflings knew better than to lower their guard. Even as they were welcomed with grand feasts, pristine lands, and lowered heads, the godlings maintained a disciplined, respectful distance.
Ragnar acted quickly to ease the friction, immediately designating a vast tract of land specifically for the wolflings so they could build their homes and shape the environment they currently needed. This geographic separation was essential because the Silver Kingdom was situated on the rare, sunny side of the northern continent.
For the wolflings, whose entire lives had been defined by extreme cold and frostbite conditions, this uncharacteristic warmth was suffocating. To survive the heat, the wolves began using their elemental magic to summon dense, localized layers of dark clouds directly over their heads, causing heavy snow to constantly rain down upon their camps.
This bizarre phenomenon raised immediate alarms among the citizens of the Silver Kingdom. While this side of the continent did enjoy sunny weather, those golden days were always short-lived. The sun never stayed long before fading away, plunging the kingdom back into the harsh reality of winter.
Because of this, summer was a sacred, highly anticipated time for the mortal humans. Every single ray of precious sunlight was deeply appreciated and celebrated. The wolflings constant cloud-weaving quickly became a major issue. Wherever the wolves walked, they brought a bitter, freezing microclimate with them. The temperature dropped so drastically in their presence that just standing beside a wolfling became physically unbearable for the human citizens.
Ragnar who took note of the growing friction and moved decisively, officially handing over a vast, secluded territory to the wolflings. He granted them full authority to design their own city from the ground up, molding the land into the permanent, extreme cold conditions their bodies and spirits required to thrive.
Yet, even as the climate issue was settled, Ragnar harbored a deeper, silent terror regarding his guests, the godlings expedite and careless spending habits. From his deep study of thier history, Ragnar knew the catastrophic danger of hosting godlings. In the past, foreign kingdoms had been almost destabilized because visiting godlings, completely ignorant of mortal economics, would casually throw items of great value into a local market just to buy simple goods. A single runic gemstone or enchanted relic could accidentally trigger hyperinflation, collapse the value of the local currency, and ruin common merchants overnight.
But to Ragnar’s immense relief, these wolfling godlings did none of that. They proved to be as disciplined, having thoroughly researched the Silver Kingdom beforehand, they came prepared.
When walking the mortal streets, they spent only what was locally acceptable. And if they ever required massive quantities of resources or rare materials for their new city, they completely bypassed the common folk. Instead, they took their high-value treasures directly to the royal family treasury, executing controlled, private exchanges with Ragnar’s ministers. This mindful diplomacy protected the kingdom’s economy, earning them even deeper respect from the grateful king.
Princess Lunara remained a phantom presence throughout these early weeks, rarely seen in public. Aside from her occasional walks through the capital at Magnus’s side, she made no radical political moves and made no effort to stand out.
Instead, she quietly stepped back, letting Ragnar and his ministers handle the daily friction of integrating her people while she used her time to carefully observe and build genuine, organic relationships with those around her. She was playing the long game, establishing deep roots rather than making a loud display of her higher status.
The sole exception to her quiet diplomacy was the First Prince, Magnus’s older brother. He made no secret of his deep resentment toward Lunara, a bitter hostility that he also harbored for Magnus.
Lunara only felt a quiet sense of pity knowing of the prince’s hatred. She understood his rage. In her eyes, he wasn’t wrong for feeling the way he did. Her sudden marriage to Magnus had instantly vaporized the older brother’s lifelong security as the rightful heir to the Silver Kingdom.
The First Prince was still entirely blind to the true depth of the betrayal, believing it was merely a temporary shift in his father’s favor. He had no idea that one of the absolute, non-negotiable conditions for the wedding was that Magnus and Magnus alone would succeed Ragnar on the throne. It was a condition King Ragnar had readily agreed to, effectively disinheriting his eldest son in secret to secure the survival of his kingdom.
This was a tightly guarded secret, known only to a select few. The First Prince remained officially in the dark, but his recent, increasingly desperate actions suggested that his political instincts had already picked up on the scent of betrayal. He was suspecting something.
This exact suspicion was why Lunara refused to rush. She knew that if the truth were leaked to the public right now, the common folk of the Silver Kingdom would turn against them. In the eyes of the people, she and Magnus would be viewed as power-hungry usurpers denying the First Prince his rightful, traditional claim to the lineage. Traditional legitimacy was a powerful shield, and right now, the older brother held it.
Lunara recognized that simple favor and good relationships wouldn’t be enough to survive the eventual fallout. She needed a strong card to play, a leverage so massive that no courtier or peasant could dispute it.
And the ongoing war with Björn was exactly where she saw an opportunity to forge that card.
She was waiting for her people to fully integrate into the Silver Kingdom and its military regime. Once the wolfling vanguard took to the frontlines, their achievements, raw power, and blood spilled for the kingdom would speak for themselves. By letting the wolves carry the weight of the war, she would make Magnus’s future reign an undeniable necessity. When the truth finally came to light, anyone wishing to question Magnus’s right to the throne would first have to question the very army that saved their lives.
