Andre wiped the sweat from his brow and stepped back to examine his work.
What had once been a solitary home at the edge of the forest had changed.
Grown.
The original house still stood at the center—solid, familiar—but around it now rose new structures. A guesthouse with wide windows and reinforced beams. A proper stone-lined well, drawing clean water with ease. Paths laid carefully through the clearing. Lantern posts waiting for nightfall.
It was no longer just a home.
It was the beginning of a settlement.
Andre folded his arms slowly.
If Anne ever returns…
If she brings her sister. Or her subordinates…
I want this place to welcome them—not frighten them.
He exhaled and turned toward his newest creation.
The bathhouse.
Steam curled lazily into the air, carrying the scent of clean water and heated stone. The structure blended wood and stone in quiet harmony, unmistakably inspired by memories he carried from another world. Inside were separate ritual rooms for men and women, divided carefully and respectfully. Beyond them lay two hot spring pools, fed by a natural source he had uncovered and shaped through creation magic.
And a proper steam room.
A miniature spa—absurd, perhaps, in the depths of Atlas.
But Andre believed in small comforts.
Hospitality disarms fear, he thought.
Even between enemies.
He hadn't realized how far his creation magic had advanced until now. Shaping entire structures no longer left him drained. The flow felt smoother. More natural.
As if Atlas itself had begun to accept his intent.
Still—
His gaze drifted toward the forest.
Too quiet.
It had been over a week.
Every day, he trained. Every night, he listened. And every moment in between, his thoughts returned to the same place.
Cale. Fang.
Was it right?
Or did I mistake trust for recklessness?
He clenched his jaw.
No.
Fang wouldn't fail him.
And Cale…
Cale wasn't fragile.
Trust means letting go—even when every instinct screams otherwise.
Yet the worry remained.
And then another thought crept in.
Anne.
He paused, surprised by the sudden tightness in his chest.
How is she doing?
Did she make it back safely?
He shook his head lightly.
When did thinking of her start feeling… different?
His heart skipped once.
Then again.
Andre frowned, placing a hand over his chest as if testing it.
"…That's new."
The sun dipped lower. Shadows stretched across the clearing.
And then—
Andre felt it.
Mana.
Familiar. Strong.
His head snapped up.
From between the trees, something moved—fast.
Too fast.
A massive silhouette burst into view, silver-gray fur catching the fading light. Its form was larger, sleeker, crowned with an overwhelming presence that pressed against the air itself.
Andre's breath caught.
That's—
"Daddy!"
A small figure leapt from the beast's back.
"Daddy! We're back! We're back!"
Cale collided into him at full speed, arms wrapping around his waist.
Andre dropped to one knee instantly, pulling his son into a fierce embrace.
"You're safe," he breathed. "You're safe…"
Cale laughed into his chest.
Behind them, the beast stepped forward.
Andre rose slowly.
Fang stood before him.
But not as he had been.
His frame was larger. More refined. His fur no longer burned red, but shimmered like tempered silver touched by ember-light. Power radiated from him in quiet, ancient waves.
Andre stared.
"…Fenrir," he whispered.
An S-rank.
A mythical beast.
Fang lowered his head slightly, eyes calm.
Andre didn't hesitate.
He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Fang's massive neck.
"Thank you," he said hoarsely. "For protecting my son. For everything."
Fang remained still—then leaned into the embrace.
You kept your trust, Fang replied.
I merely honored it.
Cale tugged at Andre's sleeve excitedly.
"Dad! Dad! Look at what you built!"
Andre laughed softly as he was pulled along.
Their eyes widened as they took it in—the guesthouse, the well, the bathhouse steaming gently.
"…You built all this?" Cale asked in awe.
Fang's ears twitched.
Impressive, he admitted.
Andre scratched the back of his head, embarrassed.
"I thought… maybe one day we'd have visitors."
They entered the bathhouse together.
Steam embraced them.
Later, they sat together in the hot spring, exhaustion melting away as water and warmth settled deep into muscle and bone.
Cale leaned back, sighing contentedly.
"This is amazing…"
Andre chuckled.
"Alright," he said softly. "Tell me everything."
Cale began to speak.
About goblins.
About Alec.
About the dungeon.
Andre listened.
And when the conversation slowed—
His voice softened.
"…Did you see Anne out there?"
Cale looked up.
Fang's gaze shifted subtly.
The night deepened.
And somewhere beyond the forest, paths long separated were already beginning to bend toward one another again.