Novel Full Chapter 1553 - 1553: My Papa Is A Kind Man
Archer landed on the nearest battleship, prompting all the Draconian Marines and Sailors to rush toward him, only to stop when they realized it was him. He chuckled before opening a massive portal to the Domain. ”Enter this and rest! I’ll go get the last fleet!” he exclaimed so everyone could hear.
Seconds later, the ships moved toward safety as he took off again. Heading for the last group of ships that only had twenty vessels left, they’d lost their main ship. He became annoyed but opened another portal and ushered them through. Once they were gone, he teleported to the palace.
He appeared outside the baby’s part of the private quarters, where giggling echoed through the hallways. Archer smiled, heading for the noise only to see Freya, Neoma, and Kela fighting on a big cushion. The twins were trying to pin their older sister down, but the white-haired little girl wiggled out of it only to stop short when seeing him.
A torrent of joyful babbles filled the air as Freya, her wide, gummy smile, locked eyes with her father and began crawling toward him. The sight caught Archer off guard, a wave of surprise washing over him as he lowered himself, his heart swelling at the sight of his eldest daughter.
Scooping her into his arms, he felt her small, warm body nestle against him, her head burrowing into the crook of his neck as if seeking the comfort only he could provide. Archer’s hand moved gently, tracing soothing circles on her back as he held her close, his voice dropping to a whisper.
”Oh, my little star,” he murmured, his words full of love. ”It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you and your sisters more than words can say.”
Freya, as if sensing the weight of his words, responded with a bright, bubbly babble, as though she understood every syllable of her father’s heartfelt greeting. Her small hands patted his shoulder, and in that moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them, wrapped in a quiet, unspoken bond of love and reunion.
Just then, Archer felt tugs on his sides as Neoma and Kela arrived. He scooped the grey-skinned girls into his arms alongside Freya, who welcomed them, but they were all hugged by him. Giggles erupted just as Hecate and Ella exited a nearby room, carrying Evelyn, Amelia, and little Elise.
The three babies’ eyes, locked onto their father as he cradled their elder siblings in his arms. This made his heart skip a beat as he saw their tiny arms stretch out toward him, their eager gestures a silent plea for his embrace. Acting on instinct, a warm glow of Mana Manipulation flickered to life around him, its gentle energy enveloping the trio.
With a wave of his hand, he lifted them from the woman’s arms, their small forms floating through the air, their delighted squeals echoing as they drifted closer. Archer’s face softened, a smile spreading as he guided the three babies into his waiting arms. Their tiny bodies pressed against him, each one vying for a piece of his warmth.
Soft coos and wriggling movements filled the moment with unspoken love. The faint shimmer of mana lingered around them, proof of the seamless bond between father and children, as Archer held them close, marveling at the overwhelming joy. He didn’t pay attention to the women as he kissed his six babies.
Archer turned to Sia and Ella, their warm smiles as he held his daughters close. ”I’m taking them to Dragonheart City,” he announced with a grin, his voice brimming with excitement. ”I want to treat each of them to some ice cream.”
Before anyone could respond, his form shimmered, and he vanished in a soft flash of light. His daughters, still floating securely behind him, let out a chorus of delighted giggles, their tiny voices bubbling with trust and exhilaration as they were carried along in the wake of their father’s magic.
Sia and Ella watched the scene unfold, their smiles widening as the sight of Archer and his girls faded from view. The older woman’s blue eyes sparkled with affection as she turned to Ella, her voice soft but filled with certainty. ”He’s nothing like his parents,” she remarked, a note of pride in her tone. ”Those girls adore him; he’s their favorite, and it’s easy to see why. He’s never far from their hearts.”
Ella nodded, her smile reflecting the quiet joy of witnessing such a tender, unbreakable bond between father and daughters.
***
As Archer whisked his daughters away to Dragonheart City, Larka, his estranged mother, stepped out of the towering government building where her son had permitted her to work, despite her unworthiness. The vibrant streets of the city, crafted by the boy she had once cast aside, bustled with life, each corner proof to Archer’s vision.
People had erected statues of him and his wives in squares all over the city. People worshipped them, but she never understood why until she saw everyone happy, thriving, and no mention of the famine striking outside the empire. Guilt gnawed at her as she walked, her past mistakes a heavy burden.
Suddenly, a crowd surged past, their voices alive with excitement. ”The emperor has brought out the princesses!” A woman shouted, her voice ringing with joy.
Larka’s heart sank, yet curiosity stirred inside her. She had heard of Archer’s six daughters, beautiful and loved by the entire Draconian population, but the thought of him sharing them with the city baffled her. Drawn by a longing she couldn’t name, she followed the crowd, her steps quickening toward the son she had lost and the family he had built.
‘I heard they’re gorgeous,’ she thought, her heart thumping in her chest. ‘I wonder if he’d let me see them, I doubt it, but it’s worth a try.’
Larka’s heart raced as she hurried through the crowded streets, the clamor pulling her toward a nearby cafe where a growing mass of onlookers buzzed with anticipation. Towering above the crowd, giant armored knights, their plate armor reflecting the midday sun, stood like sentinels, holding back the eager citizens.
Driven by a need to catch a glimpse of her son and granddaughters, pressed forward, her breath hitching with a mix of hope and dread. As she neared the terrace, where murmurs suggested Archer and his girls might be, the crowd surged unexpectedly. A careless shove from behind sent her stumbling, her foot catching on a cobblestone.
She fell hard, her head striking the ground with a sickening thud. Pain flared, and the world spun into darkness for a fleeting moment, until a vision seized her mind. In the vision, the city was awash in vibrant colors, banners fluttering in a gentle breeze as a grand parade wound through its streets.
At the heart of the celebration was a young woman, her blue eyes sparkling with pride. Larka knew who it was as she looked just like her son, the First Princess Freya Wyldheart. She stood tall in a flowing robe adorned with the sigils of the Imperial Family, her graduation from the College of Magic, the very institution her father, Archer, had once attended, marked by the ceremonial staff she held aloft.
Freya’s smile was a beacon, her presence like a warm light, as the people of the city roared their adoration for their beloved princess. Larka’s breath caught, her chest tightening with awe and sorrow. The vision of her first granddaughter struck her to the core. This was no mere glimpse of the present but a promise of a future where Freya carried the future.
Owhelmed by the weight of her past mistakes and the future her son had forged for his family, a future she could only hope to witness. Just then, she noticed Freya had stopped the parade and leaped off the carriage, only to land with a thud as she started walking in her direction.
Larka didn’t know what to do and tried to backpedal, but the young woman’s voice echoed out. ”Grandmother! Don’t move, we need to talk.”
”No, I cannot!” she exclaimed, tears in her eyes. ”I don’t deserve to be called such a name.”
She noticed Freya stop walking, hands on her hips, causing Larka’s eyes to widen as it was the same pose her mother Mia as the young woman scolding her. ”Who are you to say that! My Papa is a kind man, all you have to do is show him that you love him and he may forgive you, especially now that we are born.”
”How are you even talking to me?” she whispered, looking into her granddaughter’s bright blue eyes that reminded her of her sisters. That’s when it clicked into place. ”You’re Sia’s daughter! My big sisters!”
Freya beamed, and a teasing expression appeared. ”Would you prefer grandmother or aunty? Your choice.”
”I like grandmother,” Larka replied in panic. ”I can’t believe you’re my sister’s daughter, who would’ve thought the infamous Sia had a baby.”
”Oh, Mama is a big softy,” she revealed, giggling. ”She dotes on all of us girls, maybe it’s motherhood that changed her? But I know all my mothers love me just as much, especially Mama Ella, she panics over us everytime we go out.”
Freya stepped forward and hugged her before saying her farewells. ”It’s time to wake up Nana, maybe it was fate that brought you to that cafe?”