Chương 91: Chapter XXIV — The Weight of the Living

The memory of the escape faded as Galan reached the clearing. A moment later, Meredith's voice echoed in his mind.

"Heads up, Bloodsucker." Galan looked up, noticing the Deliverer lowering itself at the clearing across a wooden fence. It summoned the landing locks on the ground, touching it with a soft but loud jhug, the hydraulic pistons under the metal dampeners yielding under the immense weight of the ship. The boarding stairs appeared, and Filippo, the chubby putto in a simple blue tunic and a stained apron, flew out to greet him.

"Maestro Galenaios!" he chirped.

"Done with your shift already?" Galan asked as they walked toward the ship.

"Yup! How's your investigation going?"

"Finally closed a lead on the ghost. Now I just have to wait for them to make their move and for my magical fox contact to sort out the intel I sent him."

"Does that mean you're taking a break for a few days?"

"Maybe," Galan said.

"It really depends on those two factors."

"Well, regardless of how long it'll take, I'll be here to serve you, Maestro Galenaios!"

"Good to hear. I assume dinner is ready?"

"Of course!" Filippo's eyes sparkled.

"We even made your favorites! A massive T-bone steak, seared blue, with a bowl of oxtail soup that's been simmering for hours, and a fresh bottle of chilled Virgin's Blood."

'We,' huh? Galan realized.

"What else?"

"For Maestro Meredith, a whole roasted boar shank glazed with stout and mountain honey. And for me, a creamy mushroom risotto with premium cheese!"

"The food sounds delicious," Galan chuckled.

"I'm getting hungry just hearing you describe it." When they were close to the Deliverer, Meredith shouted at them from the deck.

"Bloodsucker! Come up here this instant!"

"How about no?!" Galan smirked playfully.

"Alright! Have fun sleeping on the grass!" The stairs disappear.

"Maestro Meredith, don't!" Filippo shrieked, flying up. Galan sighed and chuckled. I sure miss this crew. He resummoned the stairs and climbed them, overhearing Meredith and Filippo near the top.

"—enjoy it. You did everything you could to cook the food, after all," Meredith was saying.

"I know, but I'm still nervous," Filippo fidgeted. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. Galan reached the deck, his eyes sweeping over Meredith. She wore a simple but elegant crimson wool dress, clean of any expected food splotches. Guess she wasn't the one who helped him cook. Once he was close enough, t he sharp, smoky scent of pine and birch tar emanated from his queen, the same perfume she wore on their wedding day.

"So, who else did you bring along?"

"Oh, you'll see," Meredith smiled mischievously.

"Welcome back aboard, Captain Gal," Pheidon's voice boomed from the deck's voice expansion box.

"If you're willing, please come to the bar. We have something to show you."

"Coming," Galan shouted. He turned to Meredith.

"Is this a reu—""Shut it!" she cut him off.

"Let's just head in." She led them inside. They turned left by the end of the passage, passing a portrait of Aletheia and Lisandra in their flowing, translucent wedding gowns, their hair woven with lilies.

"Bloodsucker! Don't stare for too long," Meredith said sternly.

"Are you really that jealous?" Galan chuckled.

"Hmph. I'm just very careful as to who I lend my favorite tools to."

"Ooh, so I am your favorite."

"That was just a figure of speech!" she grimaced. Filippo snickered, and Meredith shot him a glare.

"If you don't fly ahead, I will teach you how to fold cold iron with a rusted hammer until sunrise," the strict dwarf threatened.

"No!" Filippo yelped and darted ahead.

"Just 'til sunrise? You've gone soft," Galan teased.

"I'm in a good mood tonight. Don't ruin it, Bloodsucker." Galan grinned.

"Don't worry, I won't." Near the bottom of the stairs, she stopped him.

"Wait here. And close your eyes." He did as he was told, descending the last few steps into darkness and the sound of hushed giggles. Then—"Surprise!" The lights flashed on. The bar was alive with festive decorations. A crooked, hand-painted banner read: 'Hail, captain!' while Pan played a lively tune on his flute alongside Filippo, who was beating a rhythm on his drum. The whole crew—Aletheia, Lisandra, and Meredith—were gathered around a table laden with food, their faces flushed with joy.

Pheidon manned the bar in a simple, dark linen shirt, while the twin centaurs wore simple tunics, smudged with oil and stained from cooking. Guess these two and Chubby cooked the meals, Galan thought, a genuine smile on his face.

"Oh, wow. I'm so surprised," he pretended.

"It's the least we could do," Aletheia giggled.

"What's a reunion without a party, right?" Lisandra added.

"You're right," Galan said, approaching the head of the table.

"So… should I speak first or…?"

"How about ye start with a speech?" Meredith suggested, taking her seat. Galan cleared his throat, and the music stopped. He raised his bottle of Virgin's Blood, his gaze sweeping across the room, meeting the eyes of every member of his chaotic, beloved family.

"I've worn many crowns," he began, his voice deep and resonant.

"I've held the fates of millions in my palm. But the throne room is quiet. It's lonely. Standing here, listening to Pan's unique flute skills and Meredith's affectionate threats… I realized how much I missed this."

"See?! I'm still good at this!" Pan declared.

"Quiet, goat-boy!" Meredith snapped. Galan chuckled.

"But more than anything… I'm proud. When I left, I worried you might struggle. But you've all thrived." He gestured to each of them in turn.

"Meredith has expanded our business. Aletheia, Lisandra, and Filippo have kept the sky safe. Pheidon has sailed countless ships. Each of you has carved out a place for yourselves in a world that treats outsiders with suspicion." He turned, his expression growing serious.

"And that is exactly what we need to bring to the rest of Japan. This country is hurting. It is fractured by fear and haunted by the ghosts of its own cruelty. It reminds me of Astanka before we changed it. We proved that peace isn't a dream… it's a structure we can build. And I intend to do the same here." He turned back around and raised his bottle high, his eyes burning with the fire of an emperor.

"It's going to be hard. It's going to be dangerous. And I'm going to need every single one of you. So… to the Peacekeepers. To the family we've built, the ones we've lost, and the future we're about to forge."

"To the Peacekeepers!" they all roared, raising their glasses. They tapped their drinks together, the sound ringing out like a bell. Galan took a long swig from his bottle and set it down with a grin.

"Now, let us eat."