Morgan stretched her arms before crossing them over her chest, watching her father with expectant eyes. "Dad, can you pick me up?"
Apollo nodded and effortlessly lifted Arthur into his arms. Jirni and Brago turned toward them as they approached, their regal bearing unmistakable.
Jirni greeted them with a formal nod. "Hello, my King and Queen."
As protocol dictated, every member of the Morgan family, except for Apollo and Morgan, immediately knelt in deference. In unison, they spoke, "Greetings, our King and Queen."
Morgan, however, merely scoffed at the display of reverence, her posture casual and indifferent.
Brago smirked, his sharp gaze settling on the young woman. "You've got some nerve, little lady."
Morgan shrugged dismissively. "Your son is a weak link."
Sylpha's frown deepened. "Why do you say that?"
Morgan met the Queen's gaze without hesitation. "Because he chose Battle Mage and Healer as his specializations. Look at Friya—she's a War Mage, Healer, and Mage Knight. Phloria is a Mage Knight, Warden, and Healer. Quilla specializes in Alchemy, Battle Mage, and Healer. Every one of us excels in multiple disciplines. But he? He hasn't mastered a single one. He's surrounded by prodigies, yet he has yet to carve his own path."
A heavy silence fell over the room as her words settled. No one could refute her statement, though discomfort flickered across their faces.
Finally, Meron broke the silence. "Why is that a problem?"
Morgan exhaled sharply, as if the answer should be obvious. "It's not necessarily a catastrophe, but if he lacks passion for magic, he'll never reach his full potential. Without drive, without ambition, he'll always lag behind."
She turned toward Quilla. "How are his sword and my shield?"
Quilla accessed her dimensional amulet, retrieving the requested items and presenting them to Morgan. The weapons gleamed under the ambient light, their craftsmanship evident.
Morgan held the items in her hands and commanded, "By order of your maker, dismantle."
A mechanical voice resonated from the weapons, "Order recognized."
As if following an unseen command, the shield and sword disassembled themselves. A small, glowing marble emerged from the remnants. Before anyone could react, green fire flared to life, consuming the orb before it disappeared entirely.
Brago's eyes narrowed. "What was that marble?"
Morgan yawned, stretching her limbs. "A memory orb. Nothing to worry about. I need some sleep."
Without another word, Morgan turned on her heel and made her way toward Arthur's room. Tista followed, the two slipping inside and settling in. Morgan took the right side of the bed while Tista claimed the left. Within moments, sleep claimed them both.
The early morning sun filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow inside the room. When Elina entered, she was met with an unexpected sight.
Arthur lay in the middle of the bed, his eyes open and clear. Tista, still half-asleep, was curled up beside him, her head resting against his shoulder. Arthur absentmindedly stroked her hair, his expression calm and peaceful.
Elina's eyes widened. "Arthur?"
Arthur turned his head toward her, offering a small smile. "Good morning, Mom."
At the sound of his voice, Morgan stirred beside him, her body shifting as she slowly woke. Tista yawned and stretched before groggily pulling away from Arthur, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
"Good morning, Mom," Tista murmured, her voice laced with lingering drowsiness.
Morgan sat up, blinking a few times before smirking. "Morning, Mom."
Elina chuckled softly at their synchrony. "You three look comfortable."
Morgan stretched. "Well, it was a long night."
Tista and Morgan helped Arthur out of bed, guiding him toward the adjoining bathroom so he could shower and freshen up. Though still weak, Arthur managed to stand on his own with their support.
By the time they emerged, cleaned and dressed, the three of them made their way toward the dining room. As they stepped through the threshold, an eerie silence settled over the room.
Every member of the family froze in place, their gazes locked onto Arthur as if seeing a ghost.
Mouths hung open. Eyes widened in disbelief.
It was Brago who finally broke the silence. "Well, I'll be damned. Look who's up."
Jirni was the next to react, placing a hand over her chest as relief flooded her features. "Arthur… you're awake."
Arthur, confused by the dramatic reaction, gave them a lopsided grin. "Did I miss something?"
Sylpha exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "We weren't expecting you to be up so soon."
Morgan rolled her eyes. "You act like he rose from the dead."
Quilla stepped forward, her eyes filled with curiosity. "How do you feel? Any lingering pain or fatigue?"
Arthur flexed his fingers, testing his strength. "A little sore, but otherwise, I feel… normal."
Meron stroked his chin. "Fascinating. Given the injuries you sustained, you should still be unconscious for at least another day."
Arthur scratched the back of his head. "Guess I heal fast?"
Brago chuckled. "Either that or you're just too stubborn to stay down."
Elina guided Arthur to the table, urging him to sit while food was served. The atmosphere gradually shifted from tense surprise to quiet relief. Conversations resumed, though more than a few people stole glances at Arthur, as if still processing the sight of him awake and well.
As breakfast progressed, Morgan leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, observing her family's interactions with a thoughtful expression. It was clear they all had high expectations for Arthur. Expectations he had yet to meet.
Her earlier words echoed in her mind.
Was she being too harsh? Or was she simply stating the truth?
Time would tell.
For now, Arthur was awake, and that was victory enough for the moment.