CHAPTER 201: RETURN OF ROWAN VAN AMBROSE

The crowd’s murmur of recognition grew louder as Rowan van Ambrose made his appearance out of nowhere.

In the afternoon light, he looked exactly as Grim remembered from his childhood—tall, distinguished, with the same dark hair that marked the Ambrose bloodline.

There was no trace of the monstrous transformation Grim had witnessed twelve years ago, no hint of the supernatural entity that had possessed his father’s body.

"My friends," Rowan said, his voice carrying easily across the courtyard with a warmth that seemed genuine, "I cannot express how moved I am to return and find such a celebration in progress."

The crowd began to respond positively, many of them calling out greetings and expressions of joy. To them, this was a miraculous reunion—the lost patriarch of House Ambrose returning just as his son was restoring the family’s honor.

"I have been away too long," Rowan continued, his smile never wavering as he gestured toward the magnificent sect building behind them. "Traveling distant lands, seeking knowledge and resources that might help rebuild what our family lost. But it seems my son has accomplished far more in my absence than I ever dared hope."

Cheers erupted from the crowd. Many people were calling out "Welcome home, Lord Rowan!" and "The Ambrose line rises again!" The enthusiasm was infectious, spreading through the gathered nobles and foreign delegates alike.

Chen Xing stood frozen beside Rowan, his face pale but his expression carefully controlled. Grim could see Chen Xing struggling to maintain composure while processing the implications of this appearance.

"When I left the capital twelve years ago," Rowan said, his voice taking on a more emotional tone, "I feared that House Ambrose might never recover from the tragedies that had befallen us. But standing here today, seeing what my son has built, witnessing the support and respect he has earned—I realize that our family’s greatest days may still lie ahead."

The applause was thunderous now. Even the international delegates were clapping, caught up in what appeared to be a touching family reunion. Princess Liona’s eyes were bright with what might have been tears, though whether from joy or confusion, Grim couldn’t tell.

Only Empress Alexia remained unmoved. Archmage Marcus and Chancellor Levenheart were calm as well, but Grim could see the tension in their postures.

"My son," Rowan said, turning toward Grim with arms outstretched, "come, let us greet each other properly after so many years apart."

The crowd fell silent, hundreds of eyes focused on what should have been a joyful moment of reconciliation. Grim felt trapped—to refuse his father’s embrace in front of so many witnesses would create a scandal, but to accept it felt like walking into the arms of a predator.

As he stepped forward, the world around them suddenly shifted. The sounds of the crowd faded to nothing, the colors of the celebration dimmed, and Grim found himself standing in what appeared to be a bubble of silence and shadow that encompassed only himself and the figure wearing his father’s face.

"Much better," Malaxis said, his voice now carrying its true nature though his appearance remained unchanged. "We can speak freely without worrying about our audience."

"What did you do to them?" Grim demanded, his hand instinctively moving toward his sword.

"Nothing permanent," Malaxis replied with casual dismissal. "They’re simply... paused. A small manipulation of time and perception. They’ll never know we spoke privately."

Grim could see the frozen crowd around them—Chen Xing’s mouth open mid-word, Princess Liona’s hand raised in greeting, hundreds of people caught in perfect stillness like statues in a garden.

"You’re wondering why I’m here," Malaxis continued, beginning to circle Grim slowly. "Why I would reveal myself so publicly, why I would risk the attention of those few who know what I truly am."

"The thought had occurred to me," Grim replied, forcing his voice to remain steady despite the fear crawling up his spine.

"The truth is, I came here to kill Empress Alexia," Malaxis said with the casual tone of someone discussing the weather. "But then I sensed something... unexpected."

He paused directly in front of Grim, studying his face with eyes that held far too much knowledge and malice for any human.

"You’re alive," Malaxis said with what might have been wonder. "I was so certain that night twelve years ago that I had killed you. The blade cut deep, the curse should have consumed you within days. Yet here you stand, not only alive but carrying power I don’t recognize."

"Disappointed?" Grim asked.

"Quite the opposite," Malaxis replied with a smile that was all wrong on his father’s face. "This will be so much more entertaining than simply executing an empress. Watching you struggle and learning of things you can’t possibly understand, seeing you make the same mistakes your ancestors made—it promises to be fascinating."

"What mistakes?"

"Oh, there are so many," Malaxis said, resuming his slow circle. "Your great-grandfather Caius, for instance. Did you know he tried to bargain with me? Offered for peace. Of course, I accepted his offer and then destroyed them anyway."

Grim felt Caius stir angrily in his consciousness, but the ancient spirit remained silent, perhaps recognizing the futility of revealing himself to Malaxis.

"Then there’s your father," Malaxis continued, tapping his chest. "Such a noble soul, so determined to protect his family. You should have seen his face when he realized that his body would be the instrument of your destruction. The despair was... exquisite."

"Is he still in there?" Grim asked, the words coming out harder than he intended.

"In a manner of speaking," Malaxis replied thoughtfully. "His consciousness persists, but his will is... subdued. He can see everything I do, hear everything I say, but he cannot act. Imagine being a prisoner in your own body for twelve years, forced to watch as your body is used for things that horrify you."

The casual cruelty of it made Grim’s stomach turn. "What do you want?"

"Want?" Malaxis laughed, the sound carrying no warmth despite coming from his father’s throat. "I want to watch you realize that everything you’ve built, everyone you care about, every alliance you’ve formed—all of it is meaningless in the face of true power."

He gestured toward the frozen crowd around them. "These people who cheer for you, who believe in your strength and your destiny—they have no idea what forces move in the shadows of their world. They think political maneuvering and magical education can protect them from threats they can’t even imagine."

"You’re wrong," Grim said, though his voice lacked the confidence he wanted to project.

"Am I? Tell me, what do you really know about your family’s history? About the true nature of the contracts that bind your bloodline? About why entities from other realms take such interest in the Ambrose line?"

Malaxis stepped closer, close enough that Grim could see the malevolent intelligence burning behind his father’s familiar eyes.

"There’s so much you don’t know, my dear boy. So much that Caius never told you, that the Dragon Kings haven’t revealed, that even your precious Empress doesn’t understand. The real war hasn’t even begun yet, and you’re celebrating victories in a conflict you don’t comprehend."

"Then why don’t you enlighten me?" Grim challenged.

"Because discovery is half the fun," Malaxis replied with another wrong smile. "Besides, you’ll learn soon enough. The pieces are already in motion, forces you’ve awakened without knowing it. Your little sect, your dragon contracts, your growing reputation—they’re all drawing attention from entities that make the Dragon Kings look like children playing with toys."

The bubble of silence around them began to waver, colors bleeding back into the world as time prepared to resume.

"One last thing," Malaxis said, his voice becoming almost gentle. "When the time comes—and it will come soon—remember that mercy is weakness. Hesitation is death. And blood ties mean nothing when survival is at stake."

The world snapped back to normal with jarring suddenness. The crowd’s cheers resumed as if they had never stopped, Chen Xing continued his interrupted gesture, and Princess Liona’s hand completed its wave.

But Rowan van Ambrose was no longer standing beside his son. Instead, he had moved to embrace Grim, pulling him close in what appeared to be a deeply emotional reunion.

"Welcome home, father," Grim managed to say, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

"It’s good to be back," Malaxis replied in his father’s voice, speaking loudly enough for the crowd to hear. "We have so much to catch up on."

The applause was deafening, but all Grim could hear was the echo of Malaxis’s warnings and the terrible promise that this was only the beginning.