Chapter 66: The News of the Emperor’s Return

Only a few hours had passed since Fafnir emerged from the black-and-crimson cocoon.

Yet within those brief hours, a single piece of news was already preparing to sweep across Gandalia.

The Emperor had emerged from his seclusion.

The news had not yet been officially announced, nor had any ceremonies been prepared or messages sent to the other kingdoms. But in a world like Gandalia, news of such magnitude did not need much time to spread.

The moment Thorin, Valor, Eleanor, and Morgana left the ancient hall, they began carrying out their master's command.

They were to spread the news throughout the capital.

Then to the cities.

Then across all human territories.

And after that...

To the entire world.

At first, the news existed only as whispers.

Inside one of the administrative wings of the Sovereign Palace, several officials were gathered when a guard hurried into the chamber.

He bowed respectfully.

"I have urgent news."

One of the officials raised his head.

"What is it?"

The guard hesitated for a moment, as though he still could not quite believe what he had heard.

Then he said,

"I received the news from the royal guard."

Silence fell.

"The Emperor..."

The guard paused.

Then he smiled.

"He has emerged."

The official did not understand at first.

"Emergence from where?"

The guard answered,

"From his seclusion."

Everyone froze.

Silence lingered for several seconds.

Then one of them suddenly rose to his feet.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Did you see him yourself?"

"No, my lord. But the news came directly from the guards close to the Four Pillars."

The officials exchanged glances.

Then one of them said in a trembling voice,

"After eleven years..."

Another murmured,

"The Emperor has emerged after eleven years."

Within minutes, the news left that chamber.

Then it spread to another wing.

From there, it reached the guards.

Then the palace staff.

Then the soldiers.

And finally, the city.

In less than an hour...

The capital could no longer contain it.

In one of the markets, merchants were speaking among themselves when a young man suddenly rushed into the middle of the street, shouting,

"He has emerged!"

The people around him stared at him in confusion.

"Who?"

He shouted at the top of his lungs,

"The Emperor!"

Everyone stopped.

One of the merchants asked,

"What did you say?"

"The Emperor Fafnir!"

Then he added,

"He has emerged from his seclusion!"

A brief silence followed.

Then the entire marketplace erupted.

"Impossible!"

"Eleven years?!"

"The Emperor has awakened?!"

"Has his injury healed?"

"Is he all right?!"

The news began spreading from one street to another.

No one cared about what they had been buying anymore.

The merchants no longer cared about bargaining.

Even the soldiers standing in the streets exchanged glances and smiles.

Within a short time, the entire capital knew.

Fafnir had returned.

The humans did not need to wait for an official announcement.

As soon as the news reached the major cities, the bells began to ring.

One after another.

Then the human banners began rising above the towers.

In some cities, people poured into the streets without even knowing how they were supposed to celebrate.

The news was simply too great to be treated as ordinary.

The Emperor was not merely a ruler.

To humanity, he was a symbol of an entire age.

He was the man who had disappeared five thousand years ago.

The man who had returned and led humanity toward its Renaissance.

And now...

After eleven years of seclusion, he had returned once again.

But this time, the news carried something even more important.

His injury had been completely healed.

That information spread alongside the news of his return.

And its impact upon humanity was immense.

In the capital, millions poured into the squares.

No official announcement had summoned them.

No ceremonies had been prepared in advance.

They came because they wanted to celebrate.

People raised their hands, and voices rose from every direction.

"Long live the Emperor!"

"Long live Emperor Fafnir!"

"The Emperor is healed!"

"The Emperor has returned!"

The voices of millions merged together until the entire capital seemed to tremble beneath the force of their cheers.

On one of the streets, an elderly man stood among his grandchildren.

He raised his head toward the Sovereign Palace and said,

"He has truly returned..."

His grandson asked,

"Did you think he wouldn't?"

The old man smiled.

"I was afraid that might be the case."

Then he looked toward the palace.

"But it seems the Emperor has not merely returned..."

He fell silent for a moment.

Then said,

"He has returned stronger than before."

Elsewhere, several soldiers stood before the gates of one of the barracks.

One of them said,

"So his seclusion is finally over."

Their commander answered,

"Yes."

"And has his injury truly healed?"

The commander looked toward the distant palace.

"According to the reports."

Then he smiled.

"And I suspect the entire world will know soon enough."

Meanwhile, Fafnir was still inside his ancient hall.

He was not yet aware of the scale of the celebration that had begun outside.

Nor did he care about it at that moment.

After eleven years of absence, there were matters far more important occupying his mind.

He stood beside Griselda while she prepared to leave the hall.

No one outside that hall knew that the woman standing beside the Emperor was not merely the former Elven Queen.

Nor had it been announced that she was his wife.

Fafnir himself had given no order for such a thing to be announced.

It was a personal matter.

And therefore, it remained a secret.

As far as the world was concerned...

It knew nothing of it.

But humanity's celebration was not the only thing beginning to unfold across Gandalia.

The moment the news left human territory, it began reaching the other kingdoms.

And in every kingdom...

The news was received differently.

Yet one thing was common among them all.

Hope.

Inside the throne hall of the Werewolf Kingdom, one of the officials hurried toward Volkan.

He bowed quickly.

"Your Majesty."

Volkan raised his eyes.

"What is it?"

The official said,

"We have received news from human territory."

He paused.

Then continued,

"Emperor Fafnir has emerged from his seclusion."

Volkan's expression changed.

He remained silent for several seconds.

Then he asked,

"Are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Is there any information about his condition?"

The official hesitated.

Then said,

"It is said that his injury has been completely healed."

Silence fell.

Volkan lowered his gaze.

Eleven years earlier, there had been hopes that no one had dared to voice aloud.

After Fafnir disappeared into the cocoon and failed to emerge for years, some leaders among the other races had secretly begun wondering:

Had something happened to him?

Had his old injury returned?

Had his attempt at healing failed?

Had he become weaker?

But now...

The answer stood before them.

No.

Fafnir had returned.

And he had returned with his injury completely healed.

Volkan slowly exhaled.

Then said,

"So... what we had hoped for did not happen."

The official raised his head.

He did not dare to respond.

In one of the dark halls of the Demon Kingdom, several Demon Kings were gathered when the news reached them.

"Emperor Fafnir has emerged from his seclusion."

No one spoke.

Then one of them asked,

"After eleven years?"

"Yes."

"And his condition?"

"Good."

Then came the sentence none of them wanted to hear.

"It is said that his old injury has been completely healed."

The expressions on their faces changed.

Some of them had spent the past eleven years hoping for only one thing.

That Fafnir had paid a price for his return.

That his strength had declined.

That his old injury had returned.

That the man who had appeared years ago had been nothing more than a shadow of what he once was.

But the news shattered all those hopes.

One of the Demon Kings clenched his fist.

"So he did not grow weaker."

Another replied,

"He became stronger."

No one had anything more to say.

In the Elven lands, the news was even more troubling.

The current Queen and the members of the council received the message almost immediately.

One of the elders read aloud,

"Emperor Fafnir has emerged from his seclusion after eleven years."

He continued,

"Initial reports confirm that his old injury has been completely healed."

Silence filled the chamber.

One of the elders said,

"This is not good."

Another replied,

"It hasn't been good since he returned in the first place."

But a third elder spoke,

"At least we now know that his return was not temporary."

He paused.

Then added,

"He has truly returned."

As for the Vampire Kingdom, the reaction there was colder.

But that coldness did not mean relief.

One of the officials announced,

"The Emperor has emerged."

The Vampire King sat silently upon his throne.

Then he asked,

"And his injury?"

"Healed."

The king closed his eyes for a moment.

"I had hoped that eleven years would have brought about a different outcome."

No one answered.

Then he opened his eyes and said,

"It seems Gandalia is about to enter a new era."

Within a single day, the news had spread among all the superior races.

Fafnir had returned.

But his return was not the most frightening part.

It was the fact that he had returned after eleven years of seclusion...

With his old injury completely healed.

Everyone knew that the injury Fafnir had carried since the Primordial War had been the only thing preventing him from reaching his ideal state.

And now...

That restriction was gone.

Questions began appearing in every kingdom.

How powerful was he now?

Had he surpassed his former strength?

Was he now stronger than the Fafnir they had known thousands of years ago?

And would the Era of Humanity's Renaissance that he had announced years earlier now advance even faster and with even greater force?

There were no answers.

But one thing was certain.

Fafnir's return was not merely good news for humanity.

It was news that would change everyone's calculations.

The following morning, the human capital was still celebrating.

Banners filled the streets.

Bells continued to ring.

People spoke of the Emperor everywhere.

And one image repeated itself in the minds of millions:

The man who had stood upon the palace balcony years ago and announced the beginning of humanity's Renaissance.

He had returned.

Stronger.

More mysterious.

And most importantly...

No longer bound by his old injury.

But Fafnir himself was not thinking about the celebrations.

Inside his chamber, he was arranging his thoughts.

Griselda stood before him, preparing for the journey alongside him.

Fafnir said,

"We will go to Sonora in a few days."

Griselda nodded.

"I know."

He looked at her.

"I want to hear everything from her myself."

Griselda smiled.

"You still don't trust her."

Fafnir answered without hesitation,

"I will not trust her until I find a reason to do so."

Griselda laughed softly.

"You haven't changed."

"She is the one who hasn't changed."

Silence settled between them for a few moments.

Fafnir's gaze fell upon Griselda's stomach.

His eyes were different this time.

There was no severity in them like that of the Emperor.

Instead, there was something calmer.

Something resembling a father's concern.

"I want to make certain that our child is all right."

Griselda placed a hand over her stomach.

"The child will be fine."

Fafnir looked at her.

"We will find out from Sonora."

Then he added,

"And we will find out why it has taken nine years."

Griselda smiled.

"Then..."

She stepped closer to him.

"When are we leaving?"

Fafnir answered,

"After we take care of a few matters."

Then he turned toward the window.

Beyond it, the capital was still drowning in celebration.

Millions of humans were celebrating the return of their Emperor.

At the same time, the other kingdoms were preparing themselves for a future that was no longer as clear as it had been only a day before.

But Fafnir...

He was thinking of none of that.

He was thinking of only one thing.

His child.

And the true nature of its power.

Were Sonora's words really true?

Or was there another secret behind Griselda's nine-year pregnancy?

In a few days...

Fafnir and Griselda would go to Sonora.

And then...

Fafnir might finally obtain the answer he had been seeking.