The wind carried a sharp chill as Ashura descended from the clouds, the storm beneath him crackling in subdued violet light. The Amethyst Guild estate spread below like a jewel embedded in the land. From this height, everything looked serene—but he knew better. He always did.
Landing silently in the courtyard, he surveyed his people. They were waiting. Each of them had grown visibly stronger in the months he had been gone. Their stances were firm, eyes sharper, muscles more defined. Kai, his first-in-command, was pacing, a faint grin crossing his face as he recognized Ashura.
"Captain… back sooner than we expected," Kai said, voice steady but tinged with awe.
Ashura smirked, hands sliding into his coat pockets as he approached. "The year of frost didn't take as long as it felt. Seems like you lot didn't waste the time either." His eyes scanned the assembled guild members, noting small improvements in posture, aura, and subtle energy control.
Erevos, his strongest wraith, materialized beside him—a solid black form with faint traces of purple lightning weaving around its edges. "They've grown significantly," the wraith commented, its voice now fully sentient. "I've been monitoring while you were away. Progress is substantial."
Ashura chuckled, eyes glinting. "Good. I like results. No slacking. You all fought, trained, and didn't whine. That's what I like."
The guild members relaxed slightly, exchanging proud looks. Despite the absence of direct leadership, they had thrived under Kai and the guidance Ashura left. But they knew better than to mistake this moment for praise—they'd still have to answer to him.
After a brief inspection, Ashura walked through the estate, the soft crunch of stone underfoot the only sound. It had changed subtly since he left—defenses reinforced, training grounds expanded, wards shimmering faintly in the air. The guild wasn't just stronger—it was sharper, ready.
By late afternoon, he made his way to the family house. The air here was different—warmer, safer. His mother, Arlena Bellet, was tending a small garden, the sunlight catching in her hair, her movements fluid and calm, the vigor from the elixir still evident. Gina, his sister, ran ahead the moment she saw him, her laugh piercing the quiet air.
"Brother!" Gina shouted, barreling into him. Ashura caught her with ease, spinning her lightly before setting her down. "I missed you," she said, her voice muffled against his coat.
Arlena approached with a soft smile, eyes shimmering faintly with unshed tears. "Ashura… you came back safely." She reached out, placing her hands on his shoulders. The weight of the past year, the burdens he carried, the battles he had survived, all seemed to hang between them.
"I always do," he replied simply, smirking faintly. Yet, the warmth in his chest betrayed him. Seeing them healthy, alive, it grounded him. The world outside, the wars, the dungeons, even the nameless god—they all receded for a moment.
They spent the evening quietly, sharing meals, laughter, and stories. Ashura listened to Gina recount tales of her guild training, her growth, the small victories and failures. Arlena spoke softly, asking about his travels, about the lands to the north, about the monsters he'd faced. He answered in measured doses—not too much, not too little.
Later that night, Ashura stood on the balcony, looking out over the land, the purple storm-light wraiths circling faintly around him, a reminder of his ever-present power. He had returned—but this was not the end. His mind already ticked through the next steps, the next dungeons, the challenges beyond even what he had just faced.
Kai and the other guild leaders had reported small issues and minor threats across the continent, but Ashura barely gave them a glance—he trusted them to handle it. The world was still dangerous, yes, but the Amethyst Guild now had the foundation to endure.
As the night deepened, he felt the familiar surge of ambition, of hunger. The sleeping god he had conquered, the powers he had unlocked, the authorities from the nameless one—they were tools. But the horizon was vast, and Ashura's gaze was never content with what he held today.
He turned back toward the house where Arlena and Gina rested, letting a rare, small smile curve his lips. One day, he told himself, they would understand the magnitude of the storms he walked through—not because he told them, but because he would return each time, unbroken, stronger than before.
And somewhere, deep in the pulse of his violet lightning, Ashura felt the faint whisper of a coming challenge, something that even the year of frost hadn't fully prepared him for. But that was tomorrow's battle. Tonight, he allowed himself a single, fleeting moment of peace.