Chapter 149: Return

Chapter 149: Return

By the time Noah left the academy’s administrative wing, most of the students had already dispersed from the main hall.

The corridors that had been crowded after the ranking announcement were quieter now, and only scattered groups remained discussing results near classroom entrances and stairways.

A few students recognized him as he passed, with some offering small nods while others simply watched him with the same expression he had noticed after his six-hundred-point score appeared at the top of the rankings.

Noah returned the acknowledgments when necessary but did not stop to speak with anyone.

The dark metal token from the Empire Military Training Camp rested inside his pocket, heavy enough that he remained conscious of it with every step.

Only a short time earlier, the principal had explained that accepting the invitation would remove him from ordinary academy life.

His classmates would continue attending lectures and participating in academy activities while Noah studied beside young planetary lords selected from across the Empire. He should have been thinking about that opportunity, yet his attention kept returning to his planet.

The assessment was over, but the four empires still faced millions of wounded soldiers, displaced populations, ruined cities, damaged industries, and fields that had gone uncultivated during the war.

Noah wanted to return home, close his door, and spend several uninterrupted hours observing how the governments responded now that Draeven was gone.

The streets surrounding the academy were quieter than they had been that morning.

Students moved between residences, restaurants, and transportation stations while ordinary city life continued without any sign that entire civilizations had spent decades fighting inside planetary worlds only hours earlier.

Noah walked the familiar route toward his apartment and found himself looking forward to the silence waiting there.

For months, that small residence had been one of the few places where nobody expected anything from him.

It contained no instructors, no academy rankings, no family representatives, and no people asking about the development of his planet. He could enter, lock the door, and become invisible for a while.

That was what Noah expected when he reached the building. He climbed the stairs, walked along the corridor, and stopped outside his apartment before reaching for the lock.

His hand paused when he noticed a thin line of light beneath the door. Noah frowned because he clearly remembered turning everything off before leaving that morning.

For several seconds, he simply stood there listening. The apartment remained quiet enough that he might have convinced himself he was mistaken if he had not heard the faint sound of something being placed on a table inside.

His first thought was House Aelwyn. There were only a few people capable of entering his residence without creating an obvious disturbance, and family personnel were among them.

Garran or another representative could have arrived with new instructions, especially after the assessment. Noah unlocked the door slowly and opened it only far enough to look inside before stepping through.

The main room was illuminated by the warm ceiling lights. Nothing appeared disturbed, and the shelves, chairs, books, and small table remained exactly where Noah had left them.

Someone stood near the kitchen counter with his back partially turned. The man was taller than Noah remembered, with dark hair containing several strands of gray that had not been there before.

His clothing was simple enough that nobody passing him on the street would have guessed he belonged to one of the oldest aristocratic families in the God Civilization. Noah stopped moving as soon as he recognized the familiar figure.

The man turned at the sound of the door. For several seconds, neither father nor son spoke.

Noah had imagined this moment before. When his parents first left to defend the family’s ancestral territory, he had expected them to return after the situation stabilized.

As the weeks became months, the image in his mind changed from a casual reunion into something distant enough that he gradually stopped expecting to see either of them whenever he opened the apartment door. Now his father was standing less than five meters away.

The face was the same, yet enough had changed that Noah immediately noticed the difference. There were deeper lines around his father’s eyes, a narrow scar near his jaw that Noah did not remember, and a tiredness in his expression that no amount of careful posture could completely hide.

His father looked at him for a long moment before finally speaking. "Noah," he said quietly, and that single familiar voice broke through whatever control Noah had been maintaining.

Noah tried to answer, but his throat tightened unexpectedly and nothing came out at first. The composure he had maintained through the assessment, the principal’s evaluation, and the ranking ceremony disappeared with almost embarrassing ease.

His eyes began to sting, and Noah turned his face slightly as though doing so might hide it.

The movement only made him more aware of what was happening, because he had stood above battlefields containing millions of soldiers without losing control yet now struggled to take a normal breath.

His father took one step toward him, but Noah crossed the remaining distance first. He wrapped both arms around his father before he could reconsider the action.

The movement was far less dignified than anything expected from an heir of House Aelwyn, and Noah did not care. His father stiffened briefly from surprise before his own arms closed firmly around Noah.

The embrace immediately brought back memories from when Noah was much younger, before Planet Seeds, academy rankings, family missions, and planetary civilizations became part of his life.

For a few moments, all of those responsibilities felt like complications belonging to someone else.

Noah pressed his face against his father’s shoulder and finally managed to speak. "I thought you were going to be gone longer," he said, although his voice sounded far less steady than he wanted.

His father did not mention the tears or the strain in his voice. "I know," he replied, and the simple answer made Noah’s eyes burn again.

His father continued holding him without rushing to separate. One hand rested against the back of Noah’s head for several seconds before moving to his shoulder.

"I am here now," his father said. "That is what matters tonight."

Noah closed his eyes and let himself remain there a little longer. He did not know exactly how much time passed before embarrassment finally caught up with him enough to step back.

He wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand while his father politely pretended not to notice the attempt to hide what had already been obvious. Noah then looked him over more carefully now that the first shock had passed.

"You look terrible," Noah said, and his father blinked before giving a short laugh. "That is the first thing you say after nearly crushing my ribs?"

"You have a scar," Noah replied as he pointed toward his father’s jaw. His father touched it almost unconsciously before answering, "I had scars before."

"Not that one," Noah said, and his father gave a resigned shrug. "Then I suppose I collected another."

The brief humor made the room feel normal again, but another question had been sitting beneath everything else since Noah recognized him. Noah’s expression changed as soon as he remembered it.

"what about Mother?" he asked, and his father answered immediately. "She is safe."

Some tension Noah had not realized he was still carrying disappeared from his shoulders. His father saw the change and continued before Noah needed to ask anything else.

"She wanted to come with me," his father explained. "There are still matters requiring her attention in the ancestral territory, and she could not leave at the same time I did."

"When will she return?" Noah asked, and his father shook his head slightly. "I cannot promise a date yet. She is well, and I spoke with her before I came here."

Noah nodded slowly because that was enough for now. Knowing she was safe is the thing that matters.

His father gestured toward the table and told him to sit before he decided to conduct the entire reunion from the doorway. Noah closed the apartment door behind him and followed.

Only then did he notice the food already placed on the table. There was rice, meat, vegetables, and a pot of soup that looked like something his father had either bought nearby or attempted to prepare himself.

Noah looked suspiciously at the pot, and his father immediately noticed. "I can cook," he said defensively, making Noah raise an eyebrow.

"You burned our meal once," Noah replied. His father straightened slightly and answered, "That happened one time."

"You destroyed the pot," Noah added, and his father shook his head. "Everyone knows the pot was poorly made."

Noah almost laughed again as they sat across from each other. For a moment, neither of them touched the food because simply sitting together still felt unfamiliar after so many months apart.

His father studied him with a quieter expression. "You grew," he said, prompting Noah to answer that it had not been that long.

"It was long enough," his father replied. Noah had no useful response to that and allowed the subject to pass.

His father leaned back slightly and explained that he had received reports whenever circumstances allowed. They had not been frequent or nearly as detailed as he would have preferred, but they had been enough to assure him that Noah was safe.

Noah immediately became more cautious. "What reports?" he asked, wondering how much House Aelwyn had been monitoring while his parents were away.

"That you awakened successfully and remained in good standing at the academy," his father said. "I also heard that you completed the family mission assigned to you."

He paused briefly before continuing. "Earlier today, I learned that you placed first in your monthly assessment."

Noah looked at him and asked whether the assessment was the reason he had returned. His father immediately shook his head.

"I was already on my way back," his father explained. "The timing simply allowed me to discover that my son apparently decided ordinary first-year performance was beneath him."

Noah looked down at the table before answering. "I scored six hundred."

"I heard," his father replied, and Noah added, "Difficulty Five."

"I heard that too," his father said. There was unmistakable pride in his expression, but he did not turn the result into a celebration.

Instead, he watched Noah for several seconds. "You do not look very happy about it."

Noah hesitated because he could have given the same answer he had offered everyone else. He could have said that the assessment was difficult, the goblins survived, and he learned a great deal, but all of those things felt incomplete here.

"My civilization won," Noah said. "The last round lasted more than fifteen planetary years."

His father’s expression changed slightly, and Noah continued before he could be interrupted. "They survived, but the casualties were enormous. Cities were destroyed, and millions died."

His father remained silent while Noah looked toward the window. Speaking about it to someone who knew him as a son rather than as a planetary lord made the words feel heavier.

"I kept going because I believed they could still adapt," Noah said. "They did, but near the end I was not sure whether I was testing them anymore or simply spending lives because I wanted to finish the round."

His father did not immediately tell him that he had made the right decision. Noah appreciated that more than automatic reassurance.

"Did you finish it?" his father asked, and Noah nodded. "Yes."

"And did you continue afterward?" his father asked. Noah shook his head and answered, "No."

His father nodded once before speaking. "Then remember why you stopped."

Noah looked back at him as his father rested his forearms on the table. "The ability to continue and the wisdom to continue are not the same thing."

"You will make decisions as a planetary lord that kill people," his father continued. "That is unavoidable once civilizations, wars, and competing interests become large enough."

He held Noah’s gaze before finishing the thought. "What matters is that you never become so comfortable with those numbers that you stop asking whether the cost still serves a purpose."

Noah absorbed the words quietly.

"They developed firearms during the war," Noah said. "Their industries changed completely because of it."

His father’s eyebrows rose slightly. "That sounds like something Garran would enjoy hearing."

"He does not know," Noah replied, and his father gave him a faint smile. "Then perhaps keep it that way."

Noah smiled as well because his father had always understood the value of not volunteering information unnecessarily. That small response made it easier to bring up the other major development of the day.

"There was something else," Noah said as he reached into his pocket and removed the dark metal invitation token. His father’s eyes settled on the emblem before Noah could explain what it was.

The reaction was immediate. "Where did you get that?"

"The principal gave it to me," Noah replied. His father reached across the table and picked up the token carefully.

"Empire Military Training Camp," his father said as he turned it over in his hand. Noah watched his expression become more serious.

"He offered me a place because I ranked first," Noah explained. "I accepted."

His father looked up immediately. "Good."

Noah had expected at least a question, so the immediate approval surprised him. "You are not surprised?"

"I am surprised you were invited this early," his father said as he placed the token back on the table. "I am not surprised you accepted."

Noah leaned forward slightly. "You know about the camp?"

"Everyone knows," his father replied, though his expression suggested considerably more than enough. "It is not an opportunity you reject without an exceptional reason."

He pushed the token back toward Noah before continuing. "You will meet young lords there who have been prepared for this life since birth, and others whose civilizations developed in ways you have probably never considered."

"The principal said something similar," Noah replied. His father nodded as if that confirmed his opinion.

"Then listen to him," his father said. "Being the strongest student in one academy can teach you the wrong lesson if you become comfortable with it."

He gestured toward the invitation token. "Go somewhere that reminds you how large the Empire is."

Noah picked up the token because that was almost exactly why the camp appealed to him. He wanted to see what young lords considered exceptional on an Imperial scale were capable of producing.

His father finally reached for the food and looked at him with renewed seriousness. "Now that we have discussed wars, rankings, and military camps, I have more important questions."

Noah narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Are you eating properly?" his father asked, then continued before Noah could answer. "How many hours are you sleeping? Are you cleaning this place yourself, and have you been living entirely on academy food?"

Noah stared at him for several seconds. The sudden change of subject felt absurd after everything they had just discussed.

"I manage," Noah replied, prompting his father to shake his head. "That was not an answer."

"I eat," Noah said, and his father immediately asked, "What?"

"Food," Noah replied, making his father sigh as though he had just confirmed something disappointing. Noah felt a strange mixture of annoyance and relief.

For months, nearly every serious conversation in his life had involved planets, gods, Faith Points, civilizations, invasions, aristocratic missions, or academy performance. Nobody had asked whether he was eating vegetables.

His father moved the vegetable dish closer to him, making the implication impossible to miss. Noah looked down at it before looking back at him.

"You cannot possibly have returned from a territorial conflict just to force me to eat that," Noah said. His father picked up his own bowl and answered, "I can do both. I am talented."

Noah shook his head but served himself anyway. They began eating while the conversation gradually shifted toward smaller things.

His father asked about the apartment while Noah asked about relatives whose names he had not heard in months. Some answers were brief, while others turned into stories that had nothing to do with planetary development or the academy.

The ordinary nature of the conversation gradually loosened something inside Noah. He had not realized how much effort it took to constantly think as a planetary god until someone gave him permission not to.

His father looked around the apartment after finishing his first bowl. "You have kept the place in better condition than I expected."

"You expected me to destroy it?" Noah asked. His father shook his head and replied, "I remember your room when you were nine."

"That was different," Noah said. His father immediately answered, "It was a disaster."

"I knew where everything was," Noah protested, while his father reminded him that there had been clothes covering the floor. Noah insisted that the clothes had locations, and his father laughed.

Noah joined him, and the sound felt strange inside the apartment after so many months of silence. The room no longer felt like the place where he waited alone between academy days.

Outside, the city continued moving through the night while inside Noah’s planet four civilizations were beginning the enormous work of recovering from war.

The Empire Military Training Camp also waited somewhere beyond the academy, but none of those responsibilities needed his attention at that exact moment.

His father poured more soup into Noah’s bowl and settled back into his chair. "We have plenty to discuss, and I do not intend to leave again before spending some proper time with you."

Noah looked down at the steaming bowl and felt his throat tighten slightly again. This time, he managed to keep his composure and looked back at his father.

"That sounds good," Noah said. His father smiled before beginning to tell him about the journey home.

Noah listened without looking toward his planetary interface or thinking about the invitation in his pocket.

For one evening, he did not need to be the first-ranked student, the god of four goblin empires, or the newest participant invited to an Imperial training camp.

He could simply sit across from his father and be his son. For the first time in months, that was enough.