A Journey That Changed The World

Archer made sure the babies were fine and comfortable before leaving for Verdantia to see Anastasia. It had been a while since the two of them had seen each other. So now he took the chance to go see her.

Moments later, he teleported to a mountain on the central continent and noticed it was heavily guarded. He used Mana Manipulation to go invisible so the Novgorodian Demi Gods wouldn’t sense him as he flew toward the palace.

Once Archer got close, he used the tattoo to locate the blonde, only to realize she was miles away to the north in a discreet mountain range. His eyebrows rose in curiosity as he flew above the palace and noticed the Pope and Emperor were inside.

‘Stupid humans,’ he mused. ‘I’ll make sure to rob more of their banks on the way home.’

This made him laugh as he came to a lone palace built high in the mountains where Anastasia was. Within seconds, he landed on a balcony, only for his senses to flare to life as he leaned back as a fist passed by.

Archer instantly noticed it was Catherine Volkovitch, the strongest warrior on Verdantia, causing him to grab the older woman’s arm. He pulled her toward him until their faces were inches apart,

He commented while gazing into her bright red eyes. ”You’re gorgeous, Cath, you don’t look like a woman who is a Grandmother.”

When Catherine heard this, her cheeks went red as she looked away, embarrassed, but she shook her head, replying. ”What are you doing here, Arch? The emperor has spies watching the castle.”

”I wanted to come see Anastasia and you,” he gave her a smirk while answering.

Archer extended his senses, channeling a gentle pulse of mana that rippled across the surrounding landscape like a stone dropped into a still pond. Searching for any trace of life, friend or foe.

His brow furrowed as the mana returned to him, carrying no echo of presence, no flicker of intent. Following that, he faced the older woman, a warm, disarming smile spreading across his features.

Her gaze met his, cautious yet tinged with a knowing calm. ”No one’s out there for now,” he said, his eyes briefly scanning the horizon before returning to her. ”I won’t stay long. The last thing I’d do is bring trouble to you or her.”

When Cathrine heard this, a small smile appeared across her pretty face. ”Come with me, I’ll take you to your lover.”

She gestured for him to follow, her steps steady yet unhurried while leading him through the creaking wooden door. The threshold gave way to a cozy interior, bathed in the soft, golden light filtering through a single window.

Archer’s eyes swept across the room, taking in its unassuming charm. The furnishings were simple: a sturdy oak table, a pair of well-worn chairs, and a hearth where embers glowed faintly, casting a warm dance of shadows on the stone walls.

There were no lavish paintings, no gleaming ornaments, yet the space carried an undeniable sense of familiarity. It stirred a pang of memory in Archer as it reminded him of his palace back on Draconia.

His gaze lingered on a small shelf adorned with a few hand-carved trinkets and a faded woven cloth, each item seeming to hold a story of its own. The air smelled faintly of dried herbs, grounding the space in a warmth that felt both foreign and achingly nostalgic.

Catherine, noticing his scrutiny, turned to face him. ”I hate spending gold on pointless stuff,” she said plainly.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips, as if she sensed the irony of her words in the presence of a man who had once commanded the wealth of a kingdom. She gestured toward the table, inviting him to sit. ”What use are trinkets when you’ve got a roof and a fire? That’s enough for me.”

Archer’s eyebrow rose before he started laughing, catching her attention as he explained. ”I see things the same way. My palace is very plain, the girls have complained about it more than once.”

The older woman’s eyes widened before he continued talking. ”I prefer to spend my wealth on realistic things, for example, I invested close to a billion gold coins in building up my empire’s food production. Now we can afford to feed our people ten times over.”

”Oh, so you’re a generous dragon?” she came back at him.

Archer nodded in agreement while chuckling. ”Yes. There’s no point in hoarding an untold amount of gold when I can help my people thrive in life.”

Catherine parted her lips to respond, but the door burst open with a gust of air. A blonde woman whose presence seemed to light up everything around her like a sunbeam breaking through storm clouds.

Anastasia’s hair cascaded in loose waves, framing a face that was both striking and warm, her blue eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and relief. She rushed toward him with a big smile on her face.

Before he could react, she enveloped him in an embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. His lips curved into a grin, caught off guard, only to find himself momentarily breathless as she playfully pressed his face into the soft cleavage.

A delicious scent wafted up his and something faintly sweet clung to her. ”My handsome young man!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with unrestrained joy, as if his arrival had lifted a weight from her heart.

She pulled back just enough to beam at him, her hands still resting lightly on his shoulders. ”I’m so glad you came! The emperor and his lapdog pope were starting to sniff too close for comfort, suspicious of every move I made. If it weren’t for Cath here whisking me away to this little haven, I’d be in far deeper trouble.”

Archer’s gaze shifted to the older woman, standing quietly by the hearth. Her grey hair caught the firelight, lending her an almost ethereal calm that contrasted with the blonde’s fiery excitement.

Catherine met his eyes with a small, knowing smile, her nod subtle but affirming. ”Yes, it was better that she came here,” she said softly, her tone steady. ”This place is far from prying eyes. Safe, for now.”

The room seemed to settle around them, the crackle of the fire mingling with the lingering echo of the blonde’s laughter. He leaned back slightly, his grin softening into something more thoughtful as he took in the two women.

Archer sank into the worn armchair, its cushions sinking under his weight as he let out a quiet sigh. The small parlor, with its faded floral wallpaper and soft afternoon light filtering through lace curtains, felt like a haven from the world outside.

Nearby, Catherine sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes, sharp yet warm, studied him with a mix of curiosity and amusement. Anastasia, ever the whirlwind, had barely paused to greet them before declaring, ”Tea! You both need tea!”

Her voice carried from the kitchen, punctuated by the clatter of porcelain and the rush of water filling a kettle, echoed down the corridor. Archer’s lips twitched into a half-smile, and the older woman’s shoulders shook with a soft giggle.

“She’s always like this, isn’t she?” Archer said, his voice low, almost conspiratorial, as he leaned slightly toward Catherine.

The older woman’s eyes crinkled at the corners. ”Oh, you’ve no idea,” she fondly replied. ”Ana could outrun a storm and still have energy to spare.”

From the kitchen, Anastasia’s voice rang out. ”I heard that!”

The clink of teacups followed, along with a muffled. ”Where’s the good tray?”

Catherine’s giggle bubbled up again, and Archer couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in his shoulders easing. Moments later, Anastasia swept back into the room, balancing a polished silver tray with three teacups and a teapot.

Her cheeks were flushed with purpose, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of pride and mischief. ”Here we are!” she announced, setting the tray on the low table between them.

The cups rattled slightly, but nothing spilled, a small victory she seemed to relish. ”Careful, dear,” Catherine teased. ”You’ll have us drinking from cracked cups if you keep rushing about like that.”

Anastasia grinned as she poured the tea with surprising skill, the liquid glinting in the afternoon light. ”Nonsense, Cathy. I’m steady as a rock.”

She handed a cup to the older woman, then one to Archer, her gaze lingering on him for a moment as if gauging his mood. He accepted the cup, the warmth seeping into his hands.

”Smells good,” he said, his tone softer now, the edge of his earlier wariness dulled by the cozy ritual. He glanced at Catherine, who was already sipping her tea, her eyes half-closed in contentment.

”Chamomile and a touch of strawberry,” the blonde said, settling into a chair with her cup. ”Perfect for calming the nerves, don’t you think?”

Her words were light, but her glance toward Archer carried a knowing weight, as if she sensed the storm he carried within.

Sorry for only releasing 1 chapter lately, I won’t lie, and have started finding it hard to decide which way to take the story as it’s over 1500 chapters. I’m working on the coming story, and if you have any ideas, let me know on Discord or in the comments. Thanks.