What was there left to do after witnessing such an incomprehensible, otherworldly scene?
Nothing.
Nothing but feel shock, awe, horror, and fear.
No one was mad enough to venture near the ink-black waters—that much was certain. The charred, ancient woods behind them, crawling with void worms, seemed almost inviting by comparison.
The solemnity among the soldiers was palpable. No one spoke. No one dared. They had learned a single, chilling truth: the waters of the sunken islands were not meant for human touch.
And so, on the final day granted to them by Azriel’s mother, they returned to Earth.
Surprisingly, most of the soldiers were given a few days off—a rare reprieve directly sanctioned by Joaquin himself. Yet Azriel had no such luxury. As soon as they arrived, he was summoned to the lounge of the Crimson Estate, along with his sister and father.
Lumine and Yelena were escorted to their guest rooms to rest by Amaya, a mercy they desperately needed. Azriel felt a pang of guilt as he watched them leave. He had invited them to join him, only to leave them stranded while he was trapped in a coma. They were visibly nervous, being so close to Joaquin’s overwhelming presence, but they said nothing. They knew this wasn’t the time. Conversations would have to wait until they were back at the academy.
Malcolm had returned to his own clan for the time being, and Mira and Amon had been placed on standby. That left Joaquin, Jasmine, Iryndra, Nol, and Azriel walking toward the lounge in silence.
“Mister Nol, your face is creepy when you look at him like that.”
“Oh, Master’s little sister sure is observant.”
“…You’re supposed to deny it.”
Azriel couldn’t help but smile as he listened to Iryndra and Nol. Jasmine walked beside him.
Ahead of them, Joaquin walked stiffly, his normally confident stride oddly rigid. Azriel frowned, confused by his father’s demeanor.
“He’s nervous about explaining to Mother what happened there,” Jasmine whispered, noticing Azriel’s expression.
“Oh…”
“I am not nervous,” Joaquin suddenly said, his voice stern but lacking conviction. “I am a king. A king doesn’t get nervous.”
Azriel glanced at his father with barely concealed pity. Joaquin’s awkward laugh, delivered without turning around, only made the moment more sad.
“What’s with that look?” Jasmine said. “You’re in no better position.”
Azriel’s face stiffened as Jasmine’s sharp gaze landed on him.
‘She’s right,’ Azriel thought, already contemplating an escape route. But before he could act, Jasmine looped her arm tightly around his. She flashed him a cold, triumphant smile.
“No, you’re not.”
“Traitor,” Azriel said, a groan escaping him.
“Do you want me to die?”
He had faced death more than once, but this felt like a different kind of torment entirely.
“Mother explicitly said you were to come immediately,” Jasmine said, dragging him forward despite his resistance. “It must be important if she’s not even letting us rest.”
Azriel’s shoulders slumped in resignation. His mother wasn’t one to make unreasonable demands, which only made this all the more unnerving.
And yet, knowing that didn’t make it any better.
‘I am hungry…’
He had barely eaten anything since his trip to the Void Realm.
Suddenly, Iryndra gripped his left hand with her small fingers. Azriel turned towards her as she looked up at him.
“Mister Nol is creepy.”
Azriel blinked, turning his head slightly back towards Nol while walking. He saw him humming happily with a smile on his face, seemingly lost in his own world.
Certainly, Nol had his quirks, so Azriel simply let him be.
It didn’t take long before they finally arrived at the lounge.
The only problem was that when Azriel entered, Jasmine was holding him tightly to prevent him from running away, while a little girl named Iryndra nervously gripped his left hand.
Azriel saw three heads turn towards him, ignoring everyone else. Their faces were practically overwhelmed with question marks, and Azriel had a wry smile as a bead of cold sweat dripped down his face.
Then, as Azriel registered who those three were, he saw his mother sitting elegantly on a couch on her own.
On the opposite couch were two people Azriel hadn’t expected to meet. Ragnar sat dignified, his posture straight and arms crossed, while Solomon slumped lazily on the couch next to him. Solomon raised his right hand in greeting, grinning wildly.
“The original trio is back together as the prince returns from the depths of hell once more!”
Hearing Solomon’s words, Azriel couldn’t hold back and laughed. It was indeed funny—and true.
Even Ragnar had a smile on his face, seemingly in agreement.
As Jasmine finally released her grip on him, Azriel walked towards the couch next to Ragnar and Solomon, still gripping Iryndra—who was visibly nervous, her eyes darting everywhere. Azriel sat down and picked Iryndra up, who yelped, placing her on his lap.
“M-Mister… this is too embarrassing..!”
Azriel chuckled, patting her head.
“Didn’t I tell you to call me big brother?”
“Ugh…”
Iryndra hung her head low, her face boiling in shame.
Jasmine and Nol arrived shortly after. Jasmine sat next to Azriel, while Nol stood behind the couch, silently.
Suddenly, Jasmine opened her arms, facing Azriel and Iryndra.
“Give her to me.”
Azriel narrowed his eyes at her.
“No.”
Jasmine’s lips twitched.
“I am the future queen and your big sister. Give h—”
“No.”
Azriel wrapped his arms around Iryndra like a mother shielding her child, looking at Jasmine coldly. Iryndra’s face was boiling at this point.
“You’ve already interrupted our reunion. Try booking an appointment next time.”
Jasmine’s face hardened. With a serious expression, she looked directly at Iryndra.
“Who do you want to sit with, your big brother or your amazing big sister?”
Hearing the sudden question directed at her, Iryndra’s eyes went wide. Her face panicked, darting between Azriel and Jasmine.
“Umm…”
But seeing the two of them waiting seriously, she shrank even more.
“I… I prefer big b-brother…”
At her words, a hurt look crossed Jasmine’s face as she stared at Iryndra in shock. Azriel grinned wickedly at his sister.
“Heh. She’s basically saying you’re annoying, my dear sister.”
“I definitely didn’t mean that!”
Iryndra screamed at Azriel, desperate to prevent a misunderstanding. Jasmine merely huffed, turning her head away.
A sudden cough drew their attention. All eyes turned to their mother, who was smiling warmly.
Joaquin sat next to Aeliana… though only at the very end of the couch.
“As adorable as the three of you are right now, my son… why is it that whenever I leave you alone with your father, you bring a child back?”
At her words, Azriel had an awkward smile on his face. Jasmine and Joaquin turned towards him, wearing identical haughty expressions.
‘Tch. They want me to suffer.’
Then Azriel suddenly looked at his father with the same expression Joaquin had directed at him. His father’s face cracked slightly as Azriel spoke in a steady voice.
“Well, Mother… perhaps you should ask Dad—”
Azriel couldn’t finish speaking as he suddenly felt the room temperature rise immensely, making him sweat instantly. Using his ice affinity, he ensured Iryndra stayed cool.
Joaquin looked at Azriel in shock and pointed a trembling finger at him.
“Oi! Aeli, he’s lying! I would never do anything like that!”
Aeliana, however, narrowed her eyes at Joaquin.
“You think I don’t know he’s trying to mess with me?”
Azriel’s smile died at her words.
‘Crap.’
Her sharp gaze turned to Azriel, but before she could say anything, Solomon laughed, slapping his thighs repeatedly and pointing at Joaquin.
“You really can’t handle your wife, can you, Joaquin! Hahaha! Man, to think all the four great kings kneel before their wives!”
Solomon laughed loudly, while Ragnar clenched his arms tightly, veins bulging on his forehead, just like Joaquin, who stood up, visibly annoyed.
“You want to fight, clown?” Enjoy new tales from empire
At his words, Solomon’s eyes sharpened like an eagle’s, and his smile turned sinister.
“Ah, you think I’m afraid of you just because you’re a great king? Have you forgotten what happened last year when a great king challenged me?”
Tension filled the room instantly, like a loaded gun ready to fire. Solomon and Joaquin stared each other down.
“If you think I’m like that Nebula King, you’re really going to regret it.”
“Both of you. Sit. Down.”
Everyone flinched as Aeliana’s voice cut through the room, cold and sharp, despite the steadily rising temperature.
Solomon and Joaquin locked eyes, their faces unreadable. The tension stretched taut until Joaquin clicked his tongue and sank back. freeweɓnovel.cm
A flicker of satisfaction crossed Solomon’s face before he followed suit, lounging lazily.
“It really is Ragnar Frost and Solomon Dragonheart… from the no-kill list.”
The unexpected words broke the silence, drawing all eyes to Iryndra.
Confusion painted their expressions as they turned toward her.
She froze, realizing too late that she’d spoken aloud. Her face drained of color as Solomon’s eyebrows arched in amusement.
‘She really needs to learn how to speak in her head…’ Azriel thought, suppressing a sigh.
Solomon leaned forward, his grin sharpening.
“I’m used to being on the kill-on-sight list, but no-kill? Do I have a secret admirer pulling strings for me? A lover, perhaps?”
“Enough,” Aeliana snapped, cutting through his jest with a tone that brooked no argument.
“We keep getting off track.”
Her gaze shifted to Azriel, her stern expression softening ever so slightly.
“Azriel. These two have waited long enough to talk to you. I know you’re tired, but let’s deal with this now so everyone can be on their way.”
Azriel glanced at her and noticed the faint exhaustion in her eyes. It wasn’t like her to show any weakness, and that small crack in her armor made him feel a twinge of guilt.
Ragnar cleared his throat, breaking the moment.
All eyes turned to him. Azriel felt the weight of Ragnar’s gaze as the man spoke.
“I agree with Aeli—”
“Don’t call her that,” Joaquin interrupted without missing a beat.
Ragnar’s lips twitched.
“I agree with your mother.”
He leaned forward slightly, his expression hardening.
“So, I’m here to ask you one thing…”
The atmosphere shifted abruptly. The air grew heavy, charged with an oppressive weight. Ragnar’s presence expanded, filling the room like a tidal wave crashing down.
Azriel’s breath hitched as he felt the change. Ragnar was no longer just a man in the room. He had become something vast and immeasurable—a towering giant who seemed to gaze down at him from an unreachable height.
No, this wasn’t Ragnar anymore. This was the Frost King.
And the Frost King’s words weren’t a question. They were a command.
“Prince Azriel,” he intoned, “tell me everything you know about Neo Genesis.”