A Royal Departure and Lingering Questions

“Mr. Tule, Mofimod, Soronna is still feeling a bit unwell,” Domu began. “I’ll take her back to rest first.”

Domu had initially intended for Soronna to stand and walk on her own. However, seeing Soronna sprawled on the ground, arms outstretched in a clear plea for a hug, Domu’s heart softened once more.

He bent down and scooped Soronna into a princess carry.

Watching Soronna curled up happily in his arms like a small child, Domu felt a warmth spread through his own heart, as if infected by Soronna’s joy. He then spoke, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, to Mr. Tule and Mofimod, who stood before him.

“My dear friend Domu, please forgive my inadequate preparations today,” Mr. Tule said, a reluctant expression crossing his face. He bowed deeply in a perfectly gentlemanly gesture of apology. “If I may be so bold, please grant me the opportunity to dine with you—a chance to make amends for my oversight.”

“Hmph!”

Soronna, who had been lying obediently in Domu’s arms, let out a heavy snort, reacting to Mr. Tule’s words. She then continuously shot glances from the corner of her eye at Mofimod, who stood nearby.

Mofimod, sensing the gaze of his princess, extended an arm and gently pulled Mr. Tule into an embrace. He then walked away, Mr. Tule tucked under his arm, continuously conversing with him to draw his attention. As they departed, he casually waved a hand at Domu and Soronna behind him.

“Mofimod truly is a good person,” Domu remarked, gazing at Mofimod’s retreating back, grateful for his intervention.

“He’s alright, I guess,” Soronna chirped, snuggling into Domu’s arms, delighted that the two annoying flies had finally departed. “Domu, let’s hurry home!”

“Soronna, if you’re feeling better, you should walk on your own,” Domu said helplessly, looking at the vibrant Soronna in his arms. “If someone sees us like this, it might lead to misunderstandings…”

After all, if they were seen in such a state, it wouldn’t bode well for Soronna’s reputation.

“Domu~ I’m in so much pain~ I can’t take another step~ I’ll surely die if I leave Domu’s embrace~” Hearing Domu’s words, Soronna instantly transformed into a picture of pitiful, helpless fragility.

“You’re impossible…” Domu sighed. “Alright, I’ll speed up a little. Just make sure to hold on tight.”

‘She’s truly like a child,’ Domu mused. ‘It seems Soronna not only adores children but sometimes acts like one herself.’ Domu found this change endearing rather than annoying; a warmth settled in his heart. Though he couldn’t pinpoint why, Domu always felt incredibly happy and joyful when he was with Soronna.

But… a strange thought surfaced. Domu recalled the future he had once glimpsed. ‘Why was Soronna not present in my future?’

Domu carried Soronna away from the City Lord’s mansion. Meanwhile, Mr. Tule and Mofimod walked shoulder-to-shoulder in another direction.

“Mofimod, could it be that you, too, have fallen for Lord Domu?” Mr. Tule suddenly asked, out of the blue.

“…Heh heh, Mr. Tule, you truly have a wonderful sense of humor,” Mofimod replied, a slight surprise in his tone. “I thought your first question would be about the events that just transpired.”

“Indeed, as you said, it was merely a joke,” Mr. Tule responded with a faint smile. “However, after witnessing Lord Domu’s appearance, I doubt there are many who wouldn’t be captivated, wouldn’t you agree?”

“No wonder I’ve never heard news of Mr. Tule, the head of the Bellan Merchant Guild, taking a wife,” Mofimod retorted, his sharp tongue lashing out subtly. “Could it be… that Mr. Tule prefers men?”

Mr. Tule did not take offense. Instead, he wore a knowing expression, meeting the gaze of the man known as the “Azure-Eyed Wolf” without the slightest fear. “No, it’s not that I prefer men. Rather… I appreciate all things beautiful. Besides… the Norachi Kingdom has no laws against same-s*x relationships. Moreover… how can you be so certain that Lord Domu is indeed a man?”

“!!”

“Heh heh heh, Mr. Tule, conversing with you is truly fascinating,” Mofimod said, looking at Mr. Tule. He found this man somewhat mysterious. Mofimod had heard of the Bellan Merchant Guild; ten years ago, it was merely a small, newly established merchant guild. Yet, in just a few short years, it had transformed from an obscure enterprise into one of the largest and most renowned guilds on the Klaham Continent, boasting wealth comparable to nations. The man before him was responsible for cultivating the Bellan Merchant Guild to its current scale. Anyone capable of such a feat was indeed extraordinary. “If the opportunity arises, please do visit Triumphal City as my guest. I will ensure you are received with the utmost honor.”

“Then, Mofimod, there’s no one else here,” Mr. Tule said, leading Mofimod to a secluded spot. “Shall we discuss the aftermath of the recent incident?”

“Please.”

Mofimod activated his power, scanning the surroundings. Confirming no one else was present, he proceeded to outline his carefully prepared plan to Mr. Tule. Moments earlier, Mofimod had received an urgent command from the royal palace, a communication method exclusive to demigod-level powerhouses. The red glow emanating from the belt around Mofimod’s waist, emblazoned with the Norachi Kingdom’s national flag, signified an emergency recall order personally issued by Her Majesty the Empress, summoning all legion commanders back to the royal capital.

Although Mofimod was unaware of the reason behind Her Majesty’s urgent recall, such emergency summons had always indicated a major incident within the kingdom. Regrettably, there hadn’t been enough time to bid farewell to Lord Domu and Princess Soronna.

‘Lord Domu…’ Mofimod found his thoughts drifting back to that warrior of absolute power. If his earlier conjecture—that the relative Lord Domu sought was in fact her lover—were true, then it would mean that a man had captured the heart of Lord Domu, who possessed power infinitely close to that of a god. As this thought crossed Mofimod’s mind, his heart, which had always lived solely for the pursuit of power and glory, unexpectedly stirred with a peculiar emotion: jealousy.