Galahad pushed through the crowd, making his way to the centre of the room, curious to see what the commotion was all about.
The Main Hall had always been one of the busiest places in the mansion, serving both as a lounge for everyone to mingle in, as well as the spot where they could pick their missions from. That said, things had changed a little since the advent of the war. Nowadays, the family avoided assigning non-essential missions, as Archibald was afraid of risking people’s lives unnecessarily.
However, this only made the place busier than before. Not only was there a higher concentration of people inside the building, but everyone seemed more inclined to spend time with their relatives during these uncertain months. Due to that, the family’s management had installed more couches and tables, turning the place a little more comfortable and welcoming.
Still, that wasn’t what was going through Galahad’s mind right now. Another thing that had changed in recent years was how few outsiders visited them nowadays. Naturally, anyone coming in was bound to draw a lot of attention. Ignoring the sharp gasps and hushed whispers, he finally reached the source of all this unrest.
Two people.
Yet, one of them wasn’t an outsider at all, despite how long it had been since the last time anybody saw him. Most curious was Percy’s appearance. His gruesome wounds aside, he wasn’t wearing the family’s colours like the day he had left the mansion, nor was he wearing the Guild’s robes.
While nobody ever spared the boy much thought – other than the brief period when they wanted him to stop guzzling down elixirs – it wasn’t a great secret he had gone to the Alchemists’ Guild. Most people assumed he was still stuck there, the Divine Root not letting anyone enter or leave easily following the Aurora Dew fiasco.
‘Did he give up earlier than that?’ Galahad wondered.
It was the only logical explanation. How else would he have escaped the blockade? Perhaps, he had failed to make a living as an alchemist – it wouldn’t be that strange – and was forced to leave with his tail tucked between his legs. Next, he must have tried his luck outside, only to fail there as well, before ultimately returning home. At least, that was what Galahad would have assumed in the past. Though he’d long decided to stop making assumptions about the boy.
‘No… He’s not even a boy anymore.’ he soon corrected himself.
Percy’s outward appearance was arguably more pitiful than ever before. The torn scraps he was wearing, and the numerous injuries still oozing blood aside, it was the filthy bandage looping around his head that was the most lamentable by far. Had Percy gone blind? That would certainly explain why he had returned. Eyeballs were intricate organs. While they were relatively small, it would take a powerful and experienced healer like Archibald to repair them.
‘But then… why is he smiling?’
Percy’s expression wasn’t that of a scared kid anymore, nor was it that of a defeated man. There wasn’t any sign that he had abandoned his ambitions, nor any trace of shame in returning home like this. Instead, he radiated the unyielding confidence of a victor, the unmistakable shine of triumph. Even more strangely, he didn’t act like a blind person either. He slowly scanned the room, his non-existent gaze seemingly landing on Galahad of all people. It then examined him from head to toe, as if Percy could still somehow see! And through the blindfold too!
‘No. It’s more than that.’
It was as if Percy could peer right through his flesh, observing his soul. The very notion sent a chill down Galahad’s spine.
“Uncle, is Grandpa in his office?” Percy asked, his voice hoarse but oddly calm.
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“Come. I’ll take you there.” Galahad replied.
Turning around, he headed towards Father’s office, Percy and his girlfriend right behind him. Had this been before, Galahad wouldn’t have even spared his nephew a moment. He would have chastised him for ruining his opportunity and embarrassing their family in the Guild. Then, he would have admonished him for seeking to waste more of Archibald’s time.
But he no longer knew what to even think. At the very least, the boosting art Percy had contributed to the family was a treasure valuable enough to warrant the bare minimum of respect. Maybe Father’s blatant favouritism towards him hadn’t been an error in the old man’s judgement?
‘Was I wrong to treat him like that?’
That shouldn’t be the case, right? At the end of the day, the most important thing was somebody’s grade at birth. Even if a Red-born had a special or prodigious bloodline, they were better off just passing it along to the next generation than to try using it themselves. After all, there was a limit to how much they could accomplish with a weaker core and a shorter lifespan.
There was no doubt that Circulation was valuable, but Percy didn’t need to be given expensive elixirs, did he? He had plenty of time to have many kids with his bloodline, and to bring more interesting techniques to their family as he was, without robbing them of a stronger fighter they could deploy on the front lines. Why waste resources on him, just to bolster his pitiful personal strength?
“Baldy taught you Circulation, didn’t he?” Percy suddenly asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“How can you tell?” he asked, halting his steps.
“Other than your strange behaviour, you mean?” Percy chuckled. “All the channels in your body are developed more than the average person’s.”
Questions clawed at Galahad's mind, but only one escaped his lips.
“Do you disapprove? Surely, I’m the last person you’d want to have it, am I not?”
Surprisingly, Percy shook his head.
“I admit I’ve never liked you much. Frankly, I think you’re an asshole.” he said, completely uncaring about the difference in age, status or power. “But I understand why he did it. If the future leader of the family – and our second strongest mage – can’t even be trusted with a secret, House Avalon is doomed anyway.”
Hearing his nephew’s response, Galahad resumed his walk down the corridor.
“And do you even care? You haven’t been around in what? Seven years?”
“About the family as a whole? Not that much. But there are people I care about here. And their survival might depend on you one day. Honestly, I was planning to tell Baldy to teach you the technique.”
Galahad raised an eyebrow, though he didn’t say anything else. Soon, the three reached their destination. Knocking on Father’s door, he waited respectfully for a couple minutes to be allowed in.
A strange concoction of surprise, joy and concern painted the old man’s face as Percy walked through the door. It was by far the most expressive Galahad had seen Father in months. Standing up, an orange glint shifted on Archibald’s shaved head as it reflected the afternoon sunlight coming through the window. Some moisture even seemed to gather by the corner of his eyes, though it was gone as soon as he blinked.
Stepping forth, he hugged the young man firmly but also gently. At the same time, a powerful wave of life mana gushed out of his core, shrouding Percy from head to toe, the cuts and bruises along his body closing and fading within mere moments. Still, the old man seemed to be at a loss for words.
“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Percy was the first to speak, a grin plastered on his face by the time Father let go. Then, he pulled the girl forward, placing his arm around her back.
“I know there’s a lot to catch up on, but first things first. This is my friend, Nesha of House Veritas. We’ve spent the last three years working, travelling and living together. Grandpa, can you please heal her too?”
“It’s nice to meet you, Nesha.” Archibald offered his hand.
“Likewise.” she replied, grabbing it.
Next, another burst of life mana bathed the office in a vibrant green colour. The girl recovered even faster than Percy did, her wounds not nearly as serious, nor as numerous as his.
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Archibald opened his mouth again, seemingly about to speak. Though he hesitated, exchanging a glance with Galahad, a silent question lingering between them. Percy chuckled, probably guessing what they were thinking of.
“Ah, you don’t have to worry about what you say in front of her. Honestly, she knows more about me than either of you at this point.”
Before the two even had a chance to respond to that, Percy pulled the bandage off his head, opening his eyes. It was only now that Galahad realized it wasn’t an injury Percy was trying to conceal from the rest of their family, but something else entirely…
Galahad and Archibald found themselves speechless once more – as they examined Percy’s glowing teal eyes, his slit pupils staring at them ominously. Shrugging, the young man then pulled two chairs, passing one to Nesha before plopping down on the other.
“I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions.”