Chapter 1002: Father and Daughter

It was said that the plains outside were already swept by heavy snow, with the western cities of Red Maple and Giant Stone cloaked in white.

Andersa leaned on the terrace railing, slowly pacing to the edge. Standing atop the towering Sorin Castle, she gazed toward the distant horizon.

Winterfell must be snowing by now, too. And the Longbranch Estate… Scholars predicted that the northern continent would experience a colder-than-usual winter this year. And this war… it would only make the cold bite deeper.

She lifted her eyes but saw no falling snowflakes. Instead, an endless sea of green stretched out before her, dotted with towns and watchposts nestled among vines, treetops, blooming flowers, and grass. Artificial lights twinkled like stars across the land, while the dim spaces between them glowed faintly with strange luminescent plants.

Unknown birds flitted through the giant trees’ canopies, occasionally soaring overhead or boldly perching atop the castle’s towers and weathered walls.

A soft rustling sound came from beside her. Turning, Andersa spotted a small wild creature, slightly larger than a squirrel, with bright red fur. It had climbed onto the terrace from somewhere unseen. In its mouth was a deep rose-colored fruit. Upon seeing Andersa, the little beast did something almost human—it lifted the fruit with its front paws and offered it to her, even wiping it clean with a paw.

Startled, Andersa met its gaze for a few seconds before hesitantly reaching out to take the fruit. She had never seen anything like it before. The fruit’s glossy red skin gleamed like a jewel and gave off a strange, sweet fragrance that was utterly enticing.

She recalled the fruit’s name: Sorin Tree Fruit. It was the product of the Sorin Giant Tree, a unique “crop” native to this region and a staple food source for many cities in the eastern Holy Spirit Plains. Perhaps it was the strangest and most wondrous specialty she’d ever heard of—but beneath this miraculous Sorin Tree, what marvels could not be imagined?

Andersa bit into the fruit, the sweet flesh awakening her taste buds. Then, a faint, fragile voice came from nearby: “I hope you like it. I don’t have much else to offer guests.”

Curious, Andersa searched for the source and finally spotted a small flower bud swaying in the breeze near the wall bricks where the creature had landed. The delicate, slightly distorted voice was coming from within the bud.

“Lady Beltira,” Andersa said with a strange mix of feelings, addressing the flower bud seriously, “uh… thank you for your hospitality.”

The seemingly fragile bud was actually an extension of the Sorin Giant Tree itself. The voice was the will of that mighty tree. Andersa knew little about this powerful lifeform, only that everyone here—including her own father—referred to it as Lady Beltira, a formidable ancient druid.

The Sorin Giant Tree was the final product of the old Ansu catastrophe. As a Typhon commander who had long studied Ansu, Andersa had naturally investigated this matter, but her inquiries yielded few details.

What kind of transformation must a human undergo to become this miraculous tree that shelters the entire region? And who was this powerful Lady Beltira? Andersa was deeply curious but didn’t know whom to ask.

Perhaps her father knew something—after all, all this was connected to the dark cult that had vanished into the annals of history…

The flower bud trembled in the wall’s crevice, and tiny vines began to gather around it. Eventually, the vines coalesced into the figure of a woman. Beltira stood there, seemingly scrutinizing Andersa carefully. Though her face showed no expression and her eyes appeared dull and lifeless, the way she looked her up and down made Andersa feel uneasy.

“May I ask…” Andersa finally broke the silence, unable to hold back, “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Nothing really. It’s just been a long time since I’ve paid attention to Typhons like you…” Beltira shook her head. “Especially since becoming a plant, I find it harder to move about freely.”

Andersa didn’t understand why this powerful ancient druid suddenly sounded so wistful. She found her words odd and lowered her eyelids, unsure how to respond. “Is that so… I suppose I’m a bit embarrassed to show you such a bedraggled Typhon.”

“Bedraggled? Being wounded on the battlefield isn’t disgraceful. Compared to you, this form of mine is the real disgrace,” Beltira smiled faintly, then said something even more cryptic. Just as Andersa was about to ask more, Beltira glanced toward the terrace entrance. “Ah, looks like someone’s coming to see you… maybe I should step aside.”

Andersa wanted to call out, but before she could, the woman suddenly dissolved into scattering petals and vines, swiftly vanishing from the terrace. Andersa frowned and turned toward the entrance—her father was there, pushing the door open and walking toward her.

Once upon a time, this was a scene she could never have dreamed of. Now, it unfolded so naturally before her.

“Your body has just started to recover. Try not to move around too much,” Bard said, concern coloring his voice as he looked at his daughter. “How are you feeling today?”

“Much better,” Andersa replied. “I’ll get up and move around as my strength allows.”

After this simple exchange, an awkward silence settled between them on the terrace.

Years apart were not so easily erased—especially after both had lived through so much, each walking paths unimaginable to the other. On the day they first reunited, Andersa and Bard had talked at length, but since then, every meeting inevitably fell into this uncomfortable quiet—unsure what to say or ask, having already covered all the news on day one. After that, they were strangers.

Yet both were trying to change that.

“I was just talking with Lady Beltira,” Andersa finally broke the silence after some thought. “She gave me this…”

She showed the half-eaten fruit in her hand. Bard glanced at it, a strange expression crossing his face. “Has she started giving out fruit again lately? Well, it’s not a bad habit. But Andersa, you should be careful. When dealing with Beltira, it’s best to keep your guard up.”

“Why do you say that? Do you have a bad relationship with Lady Beltira?” Andersa asked instinctively.

Bard quickly waved his hand. “Not at all. At least, we’re on good terms now. But she’s far more formidable than you realize—a person with a very complicated past.”

“…To me, growing into a giant tree that shades the entire plain is impressive enough. Could her life be any more complex or strange?” Andersa smiled, sensing her father’s reluctance to delve into Beltira’s secrets. She quickly changed the subject with a joke. “Compared to Lady Beltira’s life, I’m more curious about how you’ve been all these years.”

The conversation continued, and for once, it didn’t feel so awkward—a good start, both thought almost simultaneously.

“I thought after telling you about joining the dark cult last time, you wouldn’t want to hear more,” Bard chuckled self-deprecatingly. “It’s not a good story.”

“I was just shocked then, didn’t know what to ask. But no matter what, it’s all in the past,” Andersa said seriously, her remaining eye steady on her father. “Of course, if you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to.”

“There’s no ‘want’ or ‘not want.’ Like you said, it’s all over now—just old stories,” Bard waved his hand casually. “And boring old stories at that… The first few years, I spent in the lab. I showed you the modifications—the artificial heart and such. Those things kept me alive and severed my ties to the war god’s faith. After that, I basically worked as a dark priest, mostly operating in Ansu. You know all the evil deeds the dark cult was involved in—I was part of almost all of them.

“I’m not trying to justify myself, nor do I think doing some good later cancels out those terrible acts… I was driven by fanaticism back then. Looking back, if every crime were judged, I’d probably have been hanged several times over.”

Listening to her father recount these things so calmly, Andersa couldn’t help but interrupt: “What about after? After you left the dark cult and started working for the Cecils… how did you live during that time?”

“That period wasn’t long, especially compared to those dark years, but it was incredible,” Bard smiled. “I became a researcher—sometimes participating in studies, sometimes the only dark priest sample for experiments. In my free time… I mostly did exercises.”

“Exercises?” Andersa was surprised.

“Math, runes, and magitech stuff. When you have nothing else to do, you find something to occupy yourself with. I developed an interest in those,” Bard said, then looked at Andersa. “Are you interested in those things?”

Andersa felt awkward. She recalled the books Matilda had given her and the classic “problems” mentioned in letters. Her gaze flickered. “I…”

“You should give it a try, Andersa. It’s not just about interest,” Bard continued. “You need to understand that these skills will be invaluable in the future. Even beyond personal reasons, as a commander, you must have enough knowledge to be competent. In the past, that might have meant just military tactics, battlefield experience, knowing how to organize troops and issue orders. But now, you need to know more than that…”

Andersa’s face showed a hint of struggle. She agreed with her father’s advice. She wasn’t ignorant or slow. She understood the challenges new weapons and tactics posed to modern commanders. But people were different. She remembered once, as a child, in a fit of extreme anger, she had tried to solve a math problem all day without success—and only grew angrier.

Thinking about it still made her mad.

Bard seemed oblivious to the subtle change in his daughter’s expression. Or perhaps he had finally found a topic to connect with her and was lost in it. He eagerly shared knowledge about math and runes, the interesting problems he’d faced as a “researcher” here—of course, excluding classified projects.

Andersa stood opposite him, gradually shifting from awkwardness to thoughtful contemplation.

She looked at her father, and the faint, fading memories in her mind slowly overlapped with the scene before her… Was her father always this fond of lecturing?

She couldn’t remember.

Bard finally wrapped up his impromptu, lengthy lecture. Coming back to himself after the torrent of words, he looked at his daughter awkwardly. “I guess I might have said some things that seemed pretty boring to you.”

“Yeah, they were boring,” Andersa replied bluntly, without sparing his feelings. “But seeing that you’re doing well here—that actually puts my mind at ease.”

“…That’s good, that’s good,” Bard said dryly. Then, looking at Andersa, a flicker of hesitation crossed his face.

Andersa caught it immediately. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Well… there is something else I came to talk about today,” Bard said, carefully choosing his words. He knew what he was about to say might be hard for his daughter to accept. “Listen, this might go against your current principles, so you can refuse outright if you want. But I think it’s something you should seriously consider, because it’s very important to both Typhon and Cecil.”

Andersa seemed to sense what was coming. Her gaze sharpened. “If you’re trying to convince me to fully side with Cecil, you don’t have to say anything. I understand that your position today is the result of years of struggle and hardship, and I respect that. But as for me… I still want to return to Typhon.”

“I knew you’d say that,” Bard shook his head. “Don’t worry, no one’s going to force you. It’s just that His Majesty King Gawain asked me to pass along a message to you.”

“Him?” Andersa frowned. “What does he want?”

“Cecil is trying to train a special kind of soldier—one that can resist the mental corruption caused by the gods. These soldiers are crucial in this disaster triggered by the out-of-control deities. To do this… he hopes to get Typhon’s mass-production technology for supernaturals.”

A breeze stirred through the towering trees of Solin, the canopy rustling softly as leaves and branches brushed together. Andersa stood frozen for a few seconds, then slowly parted her lips. “Ah???”

(End of chapter)