Reborn Financier-Chapter 33 - 32: A Mother’s Love

The castle balcony stood silent.

King Edward’s eyes remained locked on the distant fire swallowing Masvel’s horizon, his hands trembling slightly as they gripped the edge. His breath was shallow. His kingdom was crumbling, his people were dying, and his family—

Tears welled again in his eyes, but this time from something deeper than fear.

Guilt.

Then—

SLAM!

The throne room doors burst open. A guard stormed in, panting like he’d outrun death itself. His armor was scratched, one gauntlet missing, and his face pale with panic.

"M-My king!" he gasped. "The que...en... the que—she’s been found!"

Edward’s eyes widened. He turned sharply, the tears drying on his cheeks as hope slammed into his chest like a war drum. "Wait—what did you say? My wife? My children?"

The guard staggered forward, trying to catch his breath. Before he could speak again, another voice echoed—calm but powerful.

"Confirmed, Your Highness. The queen and the children are alive."

Everyone turned.

Michael.

The King’s Sword. The strongest warrior in Everwood. His presence alone silenced the room. Tall, broad-shouldered, clad in black and silver armor stained with blood and smoke. Even now, battle-worn and weary, he stood like an immovable mountain.

Edward’s breath caught, then released in a trembling exhale. He nearly collapsed with relief.

"Thank the gods," he muttered. "Thank the damn gods..." But Michael’s expression remained grim.

"...However, Your Highness," he continued, lowering his gaze. "Your nephew... Kaidën. He wasn’t with them. We found no trace of him. Nothing. We fear the worst."

A long, cold silence followed.

The relief that had just lit Edward’s soul now twisted into dread. "No... no, no, that can’t be," Edward muttered, stepping back. "You don’t understand. If Sofia finds out—if she even senses it—she’ll..."

"Find out what?"The voice was soft. But it sliced through the tension like a blade of ice.

Everyone turned to the doorway.

Sofia.

She stood there with a soft smile, arms crossed loosely, her presence calm yet unshakably strong. Her dark cloak fluttered gently in the wind pouring through the shattered windows, and her eyes—those damn eyes—glowed faintly gold, the mark of her curse and her gift.

"Brother," she asked, head tilted slightly. "What is it that I mustn’t find out?"

Edward felt a cold sweat break down his spine.

"Sofia... it’s nothing. Just minor issues at the borders. Some unrest. You don’t need to—"

"Stop lying."

The smile never left her face. But the warmth in her tone was gone. Her eyes sharpened, narrowing ever so slightly.

"You know I see through the illusions of gods and spirits. You think you can lie to me?"

Edward’s mouth went dry.

Michael stepped forward, bowing his head slightly. "My lady, if I may..."

"No. I want him to say it."

She walked forward, slowly, until she stood inches from her brother.

"Edward. Say it. Out loud."

There was nowhere to run. The weight of her gaze was heavier than any crown. Edward inhaled sharply... then lowered his head.

"...We found the queen. And the children. They’re safe."

Sofia blinked. For a moment, her smile returned.

"That’s... that’s wonderful. Then why were you lying? Why—"

"...Kaidën wasn’t with them," Edward whispered.

The world stopped moving.

Sofia’s body went stiff. Her pupils dilated. Her smile faded like light before dusk.

"W-what?" she breathed. "What do you mean he wasn’t with them?"

Michael stepped forward. "We searched the wreckage, my lady. The forest is still burning. Divine mana polluted the entire region. If he was there, no body was found. But... we also didn’t find proof he survived."

Her lips trembled.

"No..." she shook her head. "No. He’s strong. He’s stronger than any of us realize. He’s... he’s my son."

But the color was already leaving her face. Her legs buckled. "Sofia!" Edward lunged forward.

"My lady!" Michael was faster, catching her just before she hit the marble floor.

She was unconscious.

Her head rested gently against Michael’s shoulder as he lifted her up effortlessly, his face stone-cold but his eyes trembling with concern.

"Get the royal physician! NOW!" Edward shouted, his voice breaking.

Servants scattered. Guards rushed.

And Edward stood there, frozen, the weight of failure sinking like a boulder into his chest.

Kaidën... please... wherever you are... come back.

****

Deep within the obsidian halls of the Ancient Dragon’s lair, Kaidën wandered with quiet awe.

The ceilings soared like cathedral vaults, carved from black stone veined with glowing mana-crystals. Each step echoed with a soft hum, as if the lair itself breathed with the slumbering pulse of ancient magic.

Eventually, the corridor opened into a grand dining hall—vast and echoing, with a massive obsidian table that could easily seat a hundred warriors. Intricate silver chandeliers hung overhead, and golden runes danced along the pillars.

But all that elegance... was immediately ruined by the sight at the head of the table.

There sat Kuro—the mighty, ancient, all-powerful dragon—in his humanoid form...

Devouring a whole roasted pig like a barbarian.

No plates. No sauce. No sides.

Just a bare, greasy, glistening pig, half-torn apart. He tore off chunks of meat with his bare hands, stuffing them into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in centuries. Grease dripped from his chin to the floor, and every few seconds, a small belch escaped.

Kaidën blinked, horrified.

"...Is this how you eat?" he asked slowly, unsure if he should be offended... or concerned.

Kuro glanced up mid-chew, cheeks puffed and mouth full of pork.

"Eh—ishh der anyfing wrong wif it?" he mumbled, spraying bits of meat in the process.

A chunk of roasted skin flung out of his mouth and landed with a wet splat on the golden tablecloth.

Kaidën flinched.

"...Can you not talk while eating?" he muttered, wiping a hand down his face. "Aren’t dragons supposed to be noble, refined, proud beings?"

Kuro let out a snort between bites. "Yeah, well—they are," he said, swallowing with a loud gulp. "Go visit the red dragons if you want ’refined.’ All snobby with their gold-plated spoons and sparkly tea. Me? I just want food. Simple and bloody."

Kaidën gave him a long, disappointed stare.

"...Right. Got it. Where’s the kitchen?"

Kuro lazily pointed toward a grand door on the left side of the hall.

Kaidën sighed again. "Thanks."

Thirty minutes later...

The door swung open.

And divine fragrance poured out like a blessing from the heavens.

Kaidën stepped into the hall, carrying a silver tray, a proud smirk on his lips. On it sat a perfectly cooked medium-rare steak, seared with a golden crust and glistening with its own juices. Beside it, a vibrant salad made of crisp baby greens, thin-sliced dragonfruit petals, glazed walnuts, and a delicate drizzle of citrus-honey dressing.

And to top it all off: a glass of chilled apple cocktail, with crushed ice, mint leaves, and a slight fizz that sparkled in the light like morning dew.

The aroma hit Kuro like a dragon’s punch.

He froze, his mouth agape, eyes locked on the tray. His pupils dilated.

Saliva formed at the edges of his lips.

"...W-What in the thirteen layers of flame is that?" he asked, slowly rising from his chair like he was about to witness a holy ritual.

Kaidën sat down at the table casually, placing the tray in front of him like a five-star chef presenting art. He picked up his fork and knife with refined grace, slicing through the steak with a satisfying, buttery glide.

The moment he placed the first bite into his mouth, he closed his eyes.

Tender. Juicy. Perfectly seasoned with a blend of sea salt, cracked black pepper, and a subtle note of charred garlic. The flavor danced across his tongue like music.

Kuro was drooling.

"...Is that apple juice? Is that salad? You made—cocktail drinks?" the dragon stammered, stepping forward as if hypnotized.

"There’s more in the kitchen," Kaidën said coolly, sipping his drink. "It’s your lair. Your ingredients. Go nuts."

Kuro vanished.

Literally vanished in a blur of speed. A booming BANG echoed from the kitchen, followed by sounds of pots crashing and a dragon-shaped gasp of pure culinary joy.

Moments later, he returned with a perfectly served plate, balancing it like a child who’d just discovered heaven.

"By the First Flame," he whispered. "This is better than gold."

Kaidën chuckled, unable to hide the grin tugging at his lips. "You’re hopeless."

Kuro took a bite.

He froze.

Eyes wide.

And then—he fell to his knees.

"I’ve tasted celestial mana. I’ve devoured phoenix hearts. But THIS—this is the peak of existence."

Kaidën couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

"Hahahaha—you dramatic lizard."

Kuro pointed at him with a steak-laden fork. "You’re never allowed to leave. You hear me? Never."

And for the first time in days... Kaidën smiled.

"Hey boy, remember we have training to do, so get yourself ready because from this day forward, your life would be in my hands" Kuro said, trying to sound domaring and cool at the same time.

But things did go as planned as it only made kaidën laugh, this time more openly than ever. "Okay then, I’m at your care" kaidën said looking fearsome with a smirk on his face. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Life is never as one planned, with the tears of a mother, to the burden a child can bare, but one this is certain, it was going to be a long year.

To be continued...