Chapter 992: Reunion

Now, the plant known as the “Sorin Great Tree” stood right before Andesha’s eyes.

She lay in a specially prepared convalescent room, located on the west side of the old Sorin Fortress. Once the estate of the local lord, much of its once-exquisite decor remained intact, though modern furnishings had been added among the ornate antiques. To her side was a tall crystal window, through which she could see an endless sea of green.

That was the canopy of the Sorin Great Tree—more precisely, the lower edge of its crown. Its vast branches and leaves stretched out in layers, an unimaginable expanse of greenery hanging upside down in the sky, filling Andesha’s entire field of vision like a vast inverted ocean. The tree was so enormous that sunlight was completely blocked by its canopy. The closer to the center of the tree, the sparser the light became, and the entire area directly beneath the crown was shrouded in perpetual darkness—or so it should have been.

In reality, numerous light sources dispelled the shadows beneath the canopy.

Along the forest paths and scattered villages on the ground, the Cecile people had installed countless artificial lights, illuminating the human settlements like a city that never slept. Above, within the canopy and along the wooden pillars that extended and hung down from it, glowing vines and bioluminescent fungi twined around, ensuring that even the wild areas beneath the Sorin Great Tree were not plunged into complete darkness.

On one side, artificial lights; on the other, naturally glowing plants. The two merged in a strange symbiosis, sheltering this land once ravaged by war beneath the great tree’s protection.

This was a sight Andesha had never seen anywhere else.

After settling in, she spent a long time gazing out the window, taking in every detail of this wondrous scene.

She knew she would be here for a long time—perhaps even after she had fully recovered, she would continue to convalesce in this old fortress. Outside her comfortable room, fully armed soldiers stood guard by every corridor and door. Magical devices operated day and night throughout the castle. She was both a guest and a prisoner here, and the young Wolf General was well aware of this.

But if the days of being a “prisoner” came with such a marvelous view for company… perhaps it wasn’t so bad after all.

The young Wolf General sighed softly, a wave of fatigue washing over her. Though her high-level strength and resilience had saved her from that terrifying air raid, the pain that followed and the toll of rapid bodily repair were not so easily overcome. She grew tired quickly—even looking up at the view outside the window for a while was exhausting.

She lay back down, preparing to rest for a moment while waiting for Sister Marian to return from her report.

But footsteps outside the door interrupted her.

Andesha turned her head slightly and saw a man in a white robe push open the door and enter.

It appeared to be the standard uniform worn by technicians of the Cecile Empire—Andesha couldn’t help but glance at him curiously. Yet she couldn’t see his face. Beneath the robe, he wore a thick high-collared coat, the collar pulled up to cover most of his face. Upon entering, he immediately began tidying some nearby shelves filled with miscellaneous items and medical supplies, bustling about as if he had no intention of speaking with her.

Still, Andesha decided to greet him first. “Hello, sir.”

The man paused abruptly, seemingly startled by her sudden greeting. Then he resumed his work, nodding slightly in her direction while keeping his body turned sideways. From behind the collar came a hoarse, low voice: “Uh, hello… miss.”

Andesha instinctively frowned but quickly relaxed. Watching him busy himself, the strange feeling that had just surfaced in her mind faded away—he seemed to be just an ordinary staff member.

Such personnel were likely assigned by the Cecile military, perhaps even “technical soldiers.” People like that probably wouldn’t engage much with a “special prisoner” like her.

As she thought this, she observed his movements. With nothing else to do, she needed to find something to pass the time. She saw him pick up items from the shelf one by one, quickly checking their labels before skillfully putting them back. She couldn’t tell the purpose of this inspection, but judging by his practiced motions, he had clearly worked here for a long time.

“Sir, are you one of the… technicians here?” Andesha asked, a bit bored.

The man stopped again, hesitating before answering, “I… I’m with the Druid Department… sort of medical staff.”

“You’re responsible for taking care of me?” Andesha was curious. She had never seen such an odd “doctor” before, and his hoarse, muffled voice made her want to ask more. “What about Sister Marian?”

“She’s mainly in charge of your care,” the man said in a low voice. “I… I’m here to help from another department.”

“Oh, I see,” Andesha replied casually, then smirked. “You Cecile people are always so efficient at managing personnel.”

The man fell silent again—he seemed to do that inexplicably, as if every answer required long thought. Then he pulled his collar higher and moved closer to her bedside, beginning to examine the handover manual on the small desk nearby.

Since Andesha had just arrived, there was little recorded in the manual, but he studied it carefully for quite some time.

“How’s your injury?” he suddenly asked.

“If you mean compared to when I was first hurt… I almost feel fully healed,” Andesha said lightly. “But if you mean compared to a healthy person… as you can see, I still have a long way to go.”

“Your eyes…” the man hesitated again.

“They’re… okay. I still have one good eye. They say that’s ten parts lucky,” Andesha hesitated for half a second, her previously light tone tinged with sadness. “They say it can’t be healed—but Sister Marian still encourages me to stay optimistic. She says something called ‘flesh regeneration technology’ might work for me… Honestly, I don’t really believe it.”

For some reason, she found herself saying more than she intended. She shouldn’t be sharing so much with a stranger, especially in this environment.

Since arriving on Cecile soil, since becoming a prisoner of war, she hadn’t had such ordinary, everyday conversations with strangers for a long time. She only chatted with the relatively familiar Sister Marian—and only with her.

Andesha felt strange. She couldn’t explain it, but this odd man before her gave her an inexplicable sense of familiarity… and comfort. She frowned, wondering if she had let her guard down in this unfamiliar place. Just then, the man spoke again.

“Flesh regeneration can regrow lost limbs—even tongues severed for ten years—but the eyes are a difficult organ. Their connection to the brain is intricate and delicate, and the eyes themselves are fragile… Flesh regeneration can’t handle them yet,” he said softly. “But I don’t think Sister Marian meant to deceive you. She just doesn’t understand this field—medicine isn’t a nun’s specialty.”

Andesha wasn’t sure if a wave of disappointment rose in her heart. She suspected she wasn’t as carefree as she thought. Still, curiosity got the better of her. “Nuns aren’t good at medicine? What do Cecile clerics study if not healing?”

“Mixed martial arts, marksmanship, artillery, physical training, and battlefield survival,” the man said seriously. “War nuns like Marian also receive basic commander training.”

Andesha: “??”

He seemed oblivious to her stunned expression, continuing to hide his face in the shadow of his collar. After a moment’s thought, he said suddenly, “Flesh regeneration will advance… There’s no way now, but someday it will be able to heal your eyes.”

His tone was earnest, as if making a solemn promise to the stranger before him.

Andesha gave him a strange look. She tried to read something from his hoarse voice and the small glimpse of his face, but saw nothing. Instead, some very old, faded memories flickered in her mind—vague impressions from her childhood, so distant she wasn’t even sure of their details.

The man noticed her gaze and turned away, his back to the bed as he busied himself with other tasks.

Was he deliberately avoiding her?

Andesha immediately sensed it. Confused and curious, she propped herself up slightly. “Sir, may I ask—”

“You should rest,” he cut her off. “Sister Marian should be back soon. Just tell her I stopped by.”

He set down what he was holding and seemed about to head for the door. Andesha felt her heart skip a beat. Instinctively, she called out again, “But I don’t even know your name, sir—”

The man paused, slightly turned his head, but said nothing. The next moment, he walked toward the door.

In that brief turn of his head, Andesha thought she caught a glimpse of a pair of eyes—somehow familiar.

Her breath quickened, her heart raced—though she still couldn’t place it. He was already at the door.

A strong feeling surged within her, as if she was about to lose something precious once more. She saw his hand on the doorknob. Before turning it, he pressed his thumb lightly twice on the handle—a subtle gesture that suddenly unleashed a flood of faded, distant images in Andesha’s mind.

It was a small habit her father used to have.

“Sir! Please wait!!” Andesha called out loudly, her still-healing lungs aching faintly. “Please wait!”

She felt the absurdity of her impulse, the hope she held like a foolish joke. But she finally chose to replace her usual reason and logic with emotion and impulse. She reached out her hand.

The man stood frozen at the door, like a statue trapped in a memory. They were only a few meters apart, yet separated by more than a decade.

Suddenly, Andesha lost her balance—she tumbled clumsily off the bed onto the floor.

The man rushed over like a gale.

The distance of a few meters and the years between them shrank to nothing in an instant.

He knelt beside her, one knee on the ground, one hand supporting her neck, as if trying to help her up. At this close range and angle, Andesha could almost clearly see the entire face hidden beneath the collar’s shadow.

That face was so different from the one in her memory—not just aged and weathered, but changed in ways she couldn’t understand. Yet those eyes… she recognized them.

“Is this a dream?” she whispered softly.

“You’re here in the real world, my child,” Bard said softly, his eyes cast downward. “I am your father—I’m right here.”

“…Why?”

“I’m currently a researcher in the Cecil Empire.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Andsha closed her eyes, feeling herself trembling. “Why…”

Why exactly was she asking that?

Why hadn’t he shown up all these years? Why was he now loyal to Cecil? Why had he gone from being an incredibly powerful knight lord to this…?

She shut her eyes tighter, as if trying to avoid answers she wasn’t even sure existed.

Bard remained silent for a moment, then gently but firmly helped Andsha to her feet and guided her to the bed.

“There’s so much I need to tell you.”

…

In the corridor outside, a young blonde nun lounged lazily against a windowsill. Beside her lay a high-powered holy light cannon, while in her hands was a thick, well-thumbed tome she was leafing through again.

She glanced up toward the nearby room, a faint smile tugging at her lips before she returned to her engrossing reading.

A soft rustling came from nearby. Vines and blooming flowers had crept up the wall and onto the windowsill, and from the cluster of blossoms, Beltila’s figure took shape. She stepped through the open window and stood beside Sister Marian, who finally set down her book and adopted a more formal posture, nodding respectfully to the embodiment of the great Solin tree.

“Good day, Lady Beltila.”

“No need for formalities. I just came to check on things,” Beltila said casually, glancing toward the room again. “Well… it’s good. They’ve finally taken that step.”

“I only received the intelligence yesterday,” Sister Marian said, “that a researcher in the Solin region turned out to be Typhon’s former Wolf General—the long-lost father of that ‘young lady.’ It was quite a shock.”

“I’ve been worried about how their reunion might go—I even feared they might come to blows,” Beltila shook her head. “This matter has people watching all the way in the imperial capital. I don’t want any accidents. Thankfully, it seems to be going smoothly.”

“Of course it is,” Sister Marian smiled gently, her warmth and calm reassuring as any good cleric’s would be. “A father reunited with his daughter would never raise a hand against her. And the ‘young lady,’ still recovering from her wounds, certainly doesn’t have the strength to quarrel with her own father—especially since I doubled the dose of moonlight elixir in her last alchemical treatment…”

Beltila blinked in surprise.

(End of chapter)