Voltaire's POV
The three of us—Rowan, Elric, and I—followed closely behind the juvenile wolf, Zen. I forced myself to stay hopeful, clinging to the belief that nothing terrible had happened yet to Aurein and Serena. Hope, at times like this, was not optimism. It was discipline.
Earlier, we had been running. Now, we walked—our pace slower, cautious—as Zen lowered his snout to the forest floor, sniffing the earth with quiet focus. His movements were less frantic now, more deliberate, as if he were listening to something only he could hear.
"General Voltaire... do you think we can still find them in time?" Rowan whispered.
He leaned slightly toward me as he spoke, his fingers instinctively curling around my arm.
I did not answer right away.
Instead, I glanced at him—then at his hand resting against my sleeve.
The realization struck him a heartbeat later.
He recoiled as if burned.
"I—I didn't mean to hold your arm," Rowan said quickly, clearly flustered. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be... touchy."
I raised a brow, suppressing a smile.
There was something about him lately—something familiar. The same strange tension I used to notice in Aurein whenever our eyes met. The flushed cheeks. The sudden shyness. The way words stumbled over themselves.
I shook my head slightly.
"Elric," Rowan said suddenly, redirecting his embarrassment with force, "are you sure Zen can still track Aurein and Serena? We've been walking in circles. He led us straight to a river we couldn't cross, nearly sent us toward a cliff if General Voltaire hadn't noticed in time, and we almost got ourselves eaten by wild beasts—which, thankfully, General Voltaire handled."
Elric scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly as his ears turned red.
"To be honest... Zen probably still needs more training when it comes to tracking," he admitted sheepishly. "But I believe he's doing his best, Lord Rowan."
Rowan sighed.
"I suppose we don't have much choice but to trust him," he said. "He's still transitioning into adulthood. He needs guidance. Training."
"That's true, Lord Rowan," Elric agreed.
Rowan fell silent for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the wolf walking faithfully at Elric's side.
"But as General Voltaire once said," Rowan began carefully, "wolves aren't easily tamed. They're proud. Wild. Especially those born into a pack."
He turned back to Elric.
"How did you manage to tame him?"
Elric hesitated.
Then he smiled—small, fragile, and tinged with sadness.
"It wasn't like that at all, Lord Rowan," he said softly. "I didn't tame him."
He shifted his weight, fingers unconsciously tightening around the strap of the small pouch at his side, as though grounding himself in the memory.
"I used to wander the forest whenever the farm felt too quiet," he continued. "Especially on days when there was nothing left for me to do but to play alone since there are no other kids in the farmland aside from me."
His voice lowered.
"I was eating my last piece of bread that day," he said. "I was about to head home because it was getting dark, and my grandfather would've worried."
He swallowed.
"That's when I found Zen."
His eyes dimmed.
"He was alone."
The forest around us seemed to blur, as if his words painted the image into the air.
"He was lying near the roots of an old tree," Elric said. "Too thin. Far too thin. One of his legs was wounded—badly. He couldn't stand. Couldn't run."
His hands curled into fists.
"I realized later that his pack must've abandoned him," Elric whispered. "Wolves don't wait for the weak. And Zen... he was starving. So weak that when I approached him, he didn't even growl."
I felt Rowan tense beside me. He glanced at me, worry etched into his face.
I offered only a faint smile.
It made his face turn red instantly, and he looked away.
I scratched the back of my head, pretending not to notice.
"He just watched me," Elric went on. "His breathing was shallow. His eyes were dull... like he had already accepted that he wouldn't survive the night."
He paused.
"I think... if I had come any later," he murmured, "he would've died there. Quietly. Alone."
The forest seemed to hold its breath.
"I didn't know what else to do," Elric said. "So I gave him the last piece of bread I had. I placed it between us. Then I poured water into my hands and let it drip into his mouth."
A fragile smile trembled across his lips.
"At first, he didn't move. I thought... maybe I was already too late."
His voice cracked.
"But then," Elric said softly, "he crawled. Just a little. Dragging his broken body forward—inch by inch. Too proud to beg. Too weak to stand. And when he ate," Elric whispered, "he let out this weak howl."
He shook his head quickly.
"His body trembled. Like he didn't understand why someone would help him... when his own kind had already given up."
Rowan's breath hitched.
Elric looked down at Zen then, his hand resting gently against the wolf's fur.
Zen leaned into the touch without hesitation.
And in that moment, I understood.
This was not obedience.
This was trust.
And trust—once earned—was far stronger than any chain.
Elric exhaled slowly, as though bracing himself, before continuing.
"That night... my grandfather came looking for me," he said. "He found me standing there—with a wolf at my side."
A faint smile tugged at Elric's lips.
"He was shocked at first. He rushed over and pulled me toward him, shielding me with his body like I was about to be torn apart. But then he noticed Zen's injuries."
Elric paused.
"That was when he let go."
He lifted his gaze briefly, as if replaying the moment.
"I begged him to let us bring Zen home so we could treat him. At first, he refused. He said it was dangerous. What if Zen recovered and turned aggressive? What if his pack came back and thought we had captured him? They could kill us both easily."
Elric let out a soft, breathless laugh.
"So I told him I would stay there with Zen, and he could go home without me."
He shook his head.
"My grandfather hated the idea. He hated how stubborn I was—something I admit I inherited from him."
Elric smiled.
"In the end... he carried Zen for me."
He fell quiet for a moment, eyes distant.
"It wasn't easy," Elric continued. "When we brought him home, Zen howled the entire night. Weak, but constant. My grandfather couldn't sleep at all. I honestly thought he was going to throw Zen out just to get some rest."
Rowan shifted beside me, clearly invested now.
"But instead," Elric said, "my grandfather told me to stay beside Zen. Not too close—he was still worried Zen might bite me—but close enough so Zen wouldn't feel alone."
Elric's voice softened.
"That went on for days. Zen still howled weakly every night. I fed him. I stayed with him. And little by little, his weakness faded. His strength began to return."
He swallowed.
"I didn't stop. I made sure he would become strong again. I cleaned his wounds every day, with my grandfather's help. Zen hated it when my grandfather touched his injured leg—he would bare his teeth—but when it was me..."
Elric glanced down at the wolf walking ahead of us.
"He never showed any aggression. So I was the only one who could clean and treat his wound."
Zen suddenly veered in another direction, nose to the ground. We followed without hesitation.
Elric kept speaking.
"Then one morning, I woke up... and Zen was gone."
His voice wavered.
"I cried so hard. I thought my grandfather had finally thrown him out. But he swore he couldn't even touch Zen—said Zen wouldn't let him."
Elric smiled sadly.
"He told me Zen probably left on his own, now that he could walk again."
The forest felt quieter.
"So I sat in front of our house. Crying. Waiting."
He took a breath.
"My grandfather said Zen had probably returned to his pack. That there was no need to look for him."
Elric's eyes lit up faintly.
"But then... I saw him. Running toward me."
Elric let out a soft laugh, thick with emotion.
"I felt hope again. But then I noticed he had something in his mouth—a dead rabbit. That scared me."
Rowan sucked in a quiet breath.
"My grandfather's first instinct was to cover me," Elric said. "He made me stand behind him as Zen stopped in front of us."
Elric's hands clenched.
"Then Zen lowered his head... and dropped the rabbit at our feet."
Silence.
"We waited. Not knowing what he would do next."
Elric smiled.
"He sat."
The he laughed softly at the memory.
"My grandfather and I just stared at each other. Completely confused."
I noticed Elric smiling now—genuinely smiling.
"My grandfather said... maybe it was a gift," Elric said. "A thank you—for treating him. For staying beside him until he was strong enough to walk again."
Elric's expression turned fond.
"So my grandfather tried to pick up the rabbit—but Zen growled and showed his fangs."
Rowan flinched.
"I stepped forward slowly," Elric said. "Reached for the rabbit instead and Zen's tail wagged."
Elric laughed quietly.
"That's when my grandfather realized—the gift was for me." Elric's voice softened. "He said Zen must have trusted me. That he was thanking me."
His hands trembled slightly.
"I reached out slowly... trying to touch his head. I was scared he might bite me."
He smiled.
"But he didn't."
Then his eyes glistened.
"He leaned closer. Then sat beside my foot. I smiled. I cried. And I looked at my grandfather... and asked if we could keep him."
Elric sniffed, wiping his eyes again.
"And now," he said, voice steadier, "Zen is part of our family. We're like brothers. Wherever I go, Zen is there."
He smiled down at the wolf.
"I didn't tame him. I just tried to earn his trust."
"I see," I said quietly. "Thank you for sharing your story."
A sharp sniff sounded beside me.
I turned.
Rowan was crying.
Silently. Intensely. His eyes were swollen, red, and glassy.
I scratched the back of my head and sighed.
"Don't mind me," Rowan said, wiping his face furiously. "It was just... heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time."
I placed a hand on his shoulder.
"There, there," I said, patting him gently. "Don't cry."
"Don't touch me!" he hissed—still crying.
I immediately pulled my hand away.
...Some things, I thought, never change.
I believed—truly—that Zen would become Elric's greatest companion once they both grew into themselves. The bond between a boy and a wolf was not something forged lightly. It was something sacred.
"There is only one piece of advice I want you to remember," I said, lowering my voice so the forest itself seemed to listen. "I want you to carry it with you. Always."
"Yes, General Voltaire?" Elric asked, looking up at me with innocent, earnest eyes.
"Never use Zen as a weapon," I said firmly. "He is not a tool. He is a living being—your friend. The moment you treat him like an object is the moment your bond begins to rot. And when that bond crumbles, so will your dream of becoming a true warrior. Always remember this: Zen is your companion. Your ally. Is that clear?"
"Yes!" Elric said without hesitation. "I will never think of him that way. Aside from my grandfather, Zen is the most precious being in my life."
His smile was so genuine that it caught me off guard.
I exhaled slowly and nodded, a rare sense of contentment settling in my chest.
"When the day comes that you believe you and Zen are ready—when you are strong enough to train as warriors," I said, allowing a proud smirk to form, "go to the Central Region. I will be waiting for you there."
"I will!" he replied, standing straighter as if already imagining himself in armor.
"Good," I said.
I watched the boy and the wolf for a moment longer. Perhaps this would be the first time I would lead a warrior who fought beside a wolf—not as a master, but as an equal.
"I want to join your army too!"
The sudden interruption startled me.
I turned to Rowan, who was openly crying, his face red and scrunched in an embarrassing display of emotion.
I stared at him. "Why are you crying?"
"I was just... moved," he said, wiping his eyes aggressively. "Very moved."
I raised a brow. "Well, you can join my army. Does that mean you're one of my warriors now? Should I treat you like one?"
"Maybe..." he muttered, trying—and failing—to regain his composure.
"Excellent," I said casually. "Then do one hundred push-ups and one hundred sit-ups."
He glared at me, eyes still watery. "I take it back!"
Elric laughed, and I couldn't help joining him—
Until Zen suddenly stopped.
The wolf lifted his head and howled.
The sound echoed through the forest, sharp and commanding.
My body tensed instantly.
"Did he find Prince Aurein and Princess Serena?" I asked, scanning the dense trees around us.
There was no sign of camps. No tracks. Nothing that suggested human presence.
Instead—
Wolves emerged from the forest.
One by one, they surrounded us, forming a perfect circle.
"What is this?" Rowan whispered, still sniffing. "Are those Zen's friends?"
I studied them closely. Their bodies were low, fangs bared. This was not a friendly greeting.
"I believe this is Zen's original pack," I said quietly, keeping my stance steady.
Zen moved immediately, placing himself in front of Elric, his lips curling back in a warning snarl.
A juvenile wolf lunged.
"Elric—come here!" I commanded, pulling the boy toward me.
"Zen!" Elric cried as Zen clashed with the other wolf, teeth snapping, bodies colliding.
I stepped forward to intervene—
But several wolves blocked my path, growling, daring me to advance.
I stopped.
"Stay close to me, Rowan," I ordered.
He instantly grabbed the fabric at my back and pressed himself against me like a frightened child.
"Protect us, General Voltaire," he whispered shakily. "I don't want to die being eaten by wolves."
"I thought you didn't need protection," I murmured.
"Now is not the time to insult me!" he hissed.
Despite the tension, I nearly smiled.
My attention returned to the pack.
They weren't attacking.
They were watching.
As if this were a trial.
The largest wolf, which I think is the pack leader, stood apart, unmoving, observing the fight with cold authority.
Zen and the other wolf struggled violently, fur flying, claws scraping—
Until Zen gained the upper hand.
He pinned the other wolf down, baring his fangs, his posture radiating dominance.
He lifted his head and stared at the pack.
There was no longing in his eyes.
No attachment.
Only defiance.
As if he were telling them: I am no longer the weak one you abandoned.
The massive leader wolf finally stepped forward.
I tightened my grip on Elric—
But Rowan abruptly pulled the boy between us, shielding him with our own body.
Now, I stood alone at the front.
The wolves advanced together.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Predatory.
My hand closed around the hilt of my sword.
If they moved any closer—
I would not hesitate.
Not even for a second.
Zen suddenly sprinted forward, placing himself squarely between me and the pack leader. He lifted his head and howled—a long, powerful sound that sliced through the forest air.
I didn't know whether they were truly speaking to one another, but it was unmistakable that Zen was trying to communicate something to the pack's leader.
Behind me, I could feel the fear.
Two bodies pressed close to my back—trembling, rigid with panic.
"General Voltaire... there are wolves behind me," Rowan whispered, his voice shaking.
"Do not show weakness," I said firmly, keeping my eyes on the pack. "The moment they sense fear, they will see you as prey."
"Anyone would be afraid!" Rowan hissed under his breath. "Those are massive wolves!"
I glanced down at Elric.
He was gripping my arm tightly, his small hands pressing into me as he watched Zen with wide, worried eyes. I could feel the tension in him—the desperate urge to help, to run forward, to stand beside his wolf. But fear rooted him in place.
I would not allow him to step forward. Not now. Not ever.
Then something changed.
Zen fell silent.
The pack leader remained still, watchful, guarded—but no longer advancing.
Suddenly, Zen turned and clamped his teeth onto the fabric of my trousers.
He tugged sharply, released, then looked up at me and howled again.
"What is he doing? Does he want me to fight their leader?" I asked.
"I think... Zen is telling you something. I think he wants you to show Prince Aurein's crown," Elric said softly.
"Oh..."
I didn't hesitate.
I drew the crown from my cloth.
Zen seized it gently between his teeth and padded toward the pack leader.
The leader wolf lowered his head and sniffed the crown.
Then—without warning—he turned and ran.
The entire pack followed.
Zen dropped the crown, then howled at us urgently, glancing back as if demanding we follow.
He bolted after them.
I scooped up Aurein's crown and ran.
"I don't fully understand what's happening," I said quickly, already moving, "but the leader may have caught a scent. We follow." I glanced down. "Come. I'll carry you."
"Me?" Rowan asked in shock. "But I might be too heavy."
"I'm talking to Elric," I said flatly. "Why would I carry you? Are you Aurein for me to carry a guy like you?"
"Oh," Rowan muttered, flustered. "Yes. Right. That makes sense."
"If you really insist, come, I'll carry you."
"N-no! Stop!"
I smirked as I lifted Elric onto my back and followed the wolves through the forest.
Moments later, we emerged upon a hidden encampment.
The hideout we had been searching for.
"This must be the brigands' base," Rowan whispered.
"Zen likely asked the pack leader for help," I said quietly. "I cannot be certain—but I hope so."
"It's incredible," Rowan murmured. "They are so useful. Do you think we should tame wolves and use them as—"
I shot him a sharp look.
"I was joking!" he blurted out. "I remember what you said earlier. They're not tools."
Before I could respond, a brigand stepped out of the hideout—and froze.
"Enemies!" he shouted, drawing his sword.
More brigands spilled out, weapons raised.
"Wolves?" their leader said in disbelief. Then his eyes narrowed as they landed on us. "Rowan... and... General Voltaire?"
"Even brigands know my name," I said calmly. "I'm honored."
Zen howled—not at the brigands, but toward the hideout itself.
I didn't understand wolf language, but the meaning was clear.
"Something inside. Aurein," I thought. "He can smell him."
"Kill the wolves!" the brigand leader ordered.
The forest erupted into chaos.
Wolves and men collided—fangs and claws against steel, growls against screams. It was a brutal, primal spectacle. Beasts versus humans. A battle rarely witnessed—and never forgotten.
I set Elric down beside me.
"Elric, stay with Rowan," I said firmly. "I'll handle their leader. Is that clear?"
He nodded.
I turned to Rowan. "While I deal with him, slip into the hideout. Find Prince Aurein and Princess Serena. Get them out."
"Yes, General," Rowan said, his fear replaced by resolve.
"Be careful," I said.
They nodded—and moved.
I gripped the hilt of my sword and advanced.
"If it isn't General Voltaire himself," the brigand leader sneered.
"I defeated your men once," I said, drawing my blade. "I won't hesitate to do it again."
"Now you command wolves too?" he mocked. "Is there anything that doesn't obey you?"
"I didn't force them," I said coldly. "They chose this. Surrender—or die."
I lunged.
Steel clashed.
He barely blocked the first strike—his arms shaking beneath the force of mine.
Then I sensed movement behind me.
Before I could react, Zen leapt—clamping his jaws around the brigand's arm.
"Well done, Zen," I said.
I drove my opponent to his knees, pressing my blade down against him.
"Tch," he spat. "Even beasts follow you. The rebels will struggle to defeat you."
My grip tightened.
"You know about them?" I asked sharply.
"Know them?" he laughed—and kicked at me, forcing me back. "We are allied with them!"
"What do you know?" I demanded. "What are their plans?"
My sword hovered at his throat.
And I was no longer asking.
I was commanding.
I was not foolish enough to expect him to reveal everything.
"I'm not an idiot who would just hand you their plans," the brigand leader said, his lips curling into a defiant sneer. "But one thing is certain—the rebels are the true rulers of Ardentia. The rightful ones. The bloodline that deserved the throne. They were erased. Wiped from history. Stripped of their identity as royalty."
The words struck harder than any blade.
"True rulers of Ardentia?" I asked, disbelief tightening my chest. "What are you talking about? The true rulers of Ardentia are King Lucen's bloodline."
"That's where you're wrong, General Voltaire," the brigand leader said coldly. "Your loyalty to them has blinded you. And once the rebels succeed, their leader promised us the life we deserve. Mountains of gold laid at our feet. Women we can touch, take, and enjoy. Servants to kneel before us." He straightened, pride swelling in his voice, as if he were already standing atop that imagined future.
"So you were seduced by false promises," I said, my voice steady despite the storm forming in my mind. "By someone claiming to be the true royal heir." I took a step closer. "What else do you know about the rebels?"
He opened his mouth—
And never spoke again.
Without warning, the wolves lunged.
Their bodies blurred through the air, a flash of white and gray, and in an instant they were upon him. Fangs tore into flesh. His scream ripped through the clearing, sharp and desperate, before dissolving into wet, choking agony.
Blood sprayed across the ground, splattering bark, leaves, and stone. He flailed helplessly, his body convulsing beneath the pack, unable to fight back, unable to escape.
It was over in seconds.
Too fast.
Too deliberate.
They killed him before he could say another word. And deep down, I knew—he would never have given us more, even if he had lived.
All around us, the hideout fell silent.
Every brigand lay dead.
The wolves had spared no one.
They were terrifying creatures—merciless, efficient, and utterly lethal to those who did not know how to face them. As enemies, they were nightmares given form.
Yet even as the carnage settled, my thoughts refused to let go of the brigand leader's final revelation.
An erased royal bloodline.
The words echoed in my mind, heavy and unsettling.
Who were they?
Why couldn't I remember them?
Had my father ever spoken of such a thing? Or was I too young then—too ignorant—to understand, to retain something so dangerous?
The sounds around me dulled, as though I were submerged underwater. The world blurred while my thoughts spiraled inward, circling the same unbearable question.
Should I believe him?
If I did, then it meant King Lucen's bloodline was never meant to rule this kingdom. It meant the rebels were not merely opposing Lucen's governance—but reclaiming a throne that had been stolen from them.
And if that were true, then this rebellion was not born of dissatisfaction or greed alone.
It was born of theft.
But it didn't make sense.
How had King Lucen ascended the throne legally? And how had an entire bloodline—royal blood—been erased so completely that even I could not recall it?
Something was wrong.
There had to be missing pieces. Misinformation. A truth fractured between both sides, buried beneath years of silence and rewritten history.
This was deeper than I had anticipated.
Far deeper.
But what I had taken from the brigand leader—however incomplete—was a beginning.
"General Voltaire!"
The voice snapped me back to reality.
I turned just as Aurein ran toward me, his expression crumpling between relief and terror, tears streaking down his face. The moment I saw him, my body moved on instinct. I ran forward and pulled him into my arms, holding him tightly, as though letting go might cause him to vanish.
For a breathless moment, I felt nothing but relief.
"We thought Serena and I were done for," he said shakily, his voice breaking as he looked up at me. "Thank you... thank you for finding us. For saving us."
I rested my hand at the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair, grounding him—and myself.
"Don't worry," I said softly. "I'm here now. I told you—I will do whatever it takes to protect you."
I pulled back slightly, searching him with frantic eyes. "Are you hurt? Were you injured? What did they do to you? Did they touch you?" My voice hardened with fear. "Tell me."
"No," Aurein said quickly. "Serena and I are fine. They couldn't touch us. We kept screaming—both of us—until they got sick of it. I think we nearly deafened them."
Despite myself, a short breath of laughter escaped me.
"You two," I said, shaking my head. "You always find the most unexpected ways to fight back."
"I missed you, General Voltaire," he said quietly. "I'm sorry... we didn't mean for any of this to happen. Please don't be mad at us."
"No," I replied firmly. "I should be the one apologizing. I should have kept closer watching over you. From now on, you are not leaving my sight. Understood?"
"Okay, General Voltaire," he said, nodding obediently—then pouting like a worried child.
Serena suddenly shrieked.
"Can the flirting wait? What is this?!" she yelled, pointing in horror. "We're going to die!"
That was when Aurein noticed them.
"So many of them!" he exclaimed, panic surging back as he grabbed Serena and dragged her closer to me. Instinctively, I wrapped an arm around both of them, shielding them as though they were children clinging to safety.
Then—
Elric laughed.
"They look like kids," he said cheerfully. "The prince and princess. It's kind of cute."
Aurein stiffened. Serena slowly turned her glare toward the boy.
"Excuse me? What did you say, you little brat?" she hissed.
"N-Nothing, Princess Serena!" Elric yelped, clapping his hand over his mouth. "I-I didn't know you are scary!"
"Scary? You think I'm a monster?" Serena exclaimed.
"These wolves," I said calmly, "are our allies."
"Huh?" Aurein blinked. "Don't tell me you've even tamed wild animals now, General Voltaire?"
"That's what the brigand leader thought too," I said. "But I don't think it was me." I glanced toward Elric.
We all did.
The boy was already laughing again, kneeling beside Zen, his hand buried in the wolf's thick white fur.
"Elric!" Aurein shouted. "Don't play with them! You'll get bitten!"
"Don't worry," I said. "Zen is his companion. They're like brothers already."
Serena stared at the surrounding pack, her expression incredulous. "So you're telling me that this little child has the ability to command all of these massive wolves?"
"Well... sort of," I said honestly. "In a way. I'm confused as well myself. But I think Zen spoke to their pack leader." I exhaled slowly. "That's how we ended up here."
And somehow, against all reason—
I believed it.
We watched in silence as the wolf leader stepped forward, his massive form cutting through the haze as he approached Zen and Elric.
Their laughter died instantly.
What followed felt like a held breath—an unnatural stillness that wrapped itself around us, thick and heavy.
The leader stopped in front of Zen.
Then, without warning, he turned his back on him.
One by one, the other wolves followed suit, padding away as if their purpose here had been fulfilled, as if this encounter had reached its natural conclusion.
The leader paused.
He looked back at Zen once more.
It was not a hostile glance. Nor was it cold.
It was an invitation.
A silent acknowledgment—"You have proven yourself. Come with us. Return to where you belong."
Zen shifted.
Then he stopped.
I glanced at Elric.
Moments ago, he had been smiling so brightly it hurt to look at him. Now his lips trembled, and tears spilled freely from his eyes.
"I guess... this might be the end, Zen," he said, forcing a smile even as his voice broke. "Your pack is letting you go back with them."
He wiped at his cheeks, failing miserably.
"Go, Zen. Go."
The juvenile wolf hesitated, clearly confused.
The leader released a low, commanding growl, patient but firm, still waiting.
"They're proud of you now, Zen," Elric continued, his hands shaking as he scrubbed his eyes. "And I'm proud too. You proved your worth to them."
Zen finally turned away from Elric.
He began walking toward the leader.
Something twisted painfully in my chest.
I understood that pain—the kind that comes when someone who has been beside you suddenly has to leave, not because they want to, but because they belong elsewhere. I felt what Elric felt. And yet, I also understood the laws of a wolf pack. Blood, instinct, hierarchy. Bonds older than words.
"I can't watch!" Aurein suddenly wailed, shoving his face straight into my chest as if seeking refuge. "This is too heartbreaking!"
"I don't even understand what's happening!" Serena snapped irritably. "What are you crying about now?"
"You have no heart, Serena!" Aurein sobbed harder.
"That's true," Rowan muttered from my other side, his own voice thick. He had somehow ended up gripping my arm tightly, his body pressed far closer than necessary. "You don't know their story. I do... the trust they built, their bond..."
His grip tightened even more as he leaned into me fully, openly crying.
"Ugh! What a bunch of crybabies. Why is it that every guy I meet cries like the world's ending?
Well—except you, General Voltaire. You don't seem to have any emotion at all... aside from shamelessly flirting with Aurein." Serena stated.
I sighed deeply.
It felt like I had suddenly acquired three clinging children, and I was their unwilling father.
Then—
Something changed.
Zen let out a sharp, piercing howl.
The leader halted and turned back.
Before anyone could react, Zen spun around and sprinted toward Elric.
"Zen?" Elric gasped, stunned.
Zen stopped at his side and lifted his head, howling again—longer, louder, filled with a meaning we could not translate with words.
But I felt it in my bones.
He had made his choice.
The leader answered with a howl of his own.
The forest echoed as the rest of the pack joined in, their voices weaving together in a powerful chorus that sent shivers down my spine.
When the howling faded, the leader turned away without hesitation and walked back into the dense forest. The others followed, disappearing one by one until the trees swallowed them whole.
"Zen!" Elric cried.
He collapsed to his knees, wrapping his arms around his companion.
Zen licked away his tears gently, as if comforting him for crying.
"I thought you were going to leave me!" Elric sobbed loudly.
Aurein was crying so hard he might have dehydrated on the spot. Serena looked thoroughly annoyed by the noise, while Rowan had fully given up, pressing his face against my chest as he cried without shame.
I couldn't move my body because of the three royalties clinging to me, but I had to speak to Elric.
"You showed Zen that you would never abandon him when he needed someone most," I said. "And now, it's his turn. He showed you that he trusts you just as deeply. He chose you over his pack. That is something you should be proud of."
"Thank you, Zen," Elric whispered tearfully.
Zen howled again.
Elric tried to mimic him, though his voice cracked from overwhelming emotion.
"I think we should head back now," I said. "It's been a long day."
"Yes, please!" Serena exclaimed. "I want to bathe already. I feel sticky and filthy!"
"We'll return to the farmland first and bring Zen and Elric to Elder Henderson," I added. "He must be worried sick."
Elric stood up, wiping his tears before smiling at me.
"Thank you, General Voltaire," he said earnestly. "If it weren't for you, this wouldn't have happened. Zen and I... we both learned something today about our bond. I'll never forget this."
"Then you've passed my initiation," I said proudly. "You are now officially part of my army. When you and Zen are ready, go to the Central Region. I'll be waiting."
"So your army will have wolves now too?" Serena teased. "You'll be unstoppable."
"Seems that way," I replied with a smirk. "Let's go rest."
Zen and Elric walked ahead of us.
But—
"Are you three really not letting go of me?" I asked flatly.
They shook their heads in perfect unison.
"Even you, Rowan?" Serena snapped. "You're shameless! I thought you were a tough guy that hates General Voltaire! Why are you even here clinging with us!"
"I'm human too!" Rowan shot back, clinging even tighter. "I need comfort just like you!"
I glanced at Aurein. "Are you alright with this?"
He nodded seriously.
"It's better if we stay together when we return. At least we won't get captured again... not while we're all glued to you."
I blinked.
It seemed these three had no intention of releasing me anytime soon.
I had expected Aurein and Serena to be trouble enough. I hadn't anticipated Rowan joining in as well.
With a weary breath, I slipped my arms beneath Aurein's body and lifted him against my chest. His weight settled there—familiar, fragile, unbearable. I took one step, then another.
And then they moved with me.
Serena latched onto my left arm, jaw clenched, irritation barely masking her fear. Rowan clung to my right, fingers shaking as if letting go would mean losing everything.
They walked when I walked.
As though my arms were the only thing keeping all three of them from falling apart.
"General Voltaire," Aurein pleaded softly, "please protect the three of us."
How could I refuse?
This was supposed to be a mission to uncover the rebellion in the southern region.
Instead, it felt like I had been assigned to babysit three members of royalty.
And yet—
As I looked at Aurein, the brigand leader's words echoed in my mind once more.
"The true royal heir."
My gaze drifted forward, landing on Elric.
What if Elder Henderson knew something?
He had lived long enough. Seen enough.
If anyone held the truth, it might be him.
I hoped he had answers.
Because if the brigand leader had spoken the truth...
Then who was the real enemy?
The rebels whose throne had been stolen—
Or the royalty currently sitting upon it?
End of Chapter 39