He walked toward the grill where embers still glowed. Several slabs of roasted meat remained, preserved by the leftover heat. Without ceremony, he conjured four wooden boxes, each sturdy and simple.

The meat divided itself cleanly, portions settling neatly within the containers.

At the same time, a barrel floated toward himt, he last of Ikem’s experimental brew. Its surface shimmered faintly, the liquid within still humming with potency.

Ikenga placed a hand upon it.

Then he stepped forward and vanished.

Ikem at this time was managing his realm alongside Bara, carefully dealing with the still many steady streams of unrefined faith energy left behind from Tide’s incident. The energy no longer surged violently as it once had, but it remained dense and unprocessed, flowing like an endless current through the foundation of his domain. It required attention. Patience. Structure.

Bara stood rooted at the center of the realm, the huge and tall blood-red tree, its presence stabilizing the surrounding space as Ikem worked in coordination with it.

It was while directing another careful adjustment to the flow of faith that Ikem’s brow rose slightly.

A familiar presence.

A smile crossed his face.

He rose quickly but calmly, smoothing his attire as his voice traveled instantly across the realm.

“Get ready,” he told Ursula. “Father is coming.”

There was no urgency in his tone, but there was hint of expected preparation.

Moments later, Ikenga appeared before the massive blood-red tree at the center of Ikem’s realm.

Four boxes floated beside him, sealed and orderly. Barrel hovered nearby as well.

Ikenga’s eyes immediately went to the tree. For a brief second, he did not speak.

He remembered Bara had once been small enough to be held. A creation. A gift to his son before he left his own realm.

Now it towered high above him, rooted deeply within Ikem’s domain, grown far beyond its original state.

A quiet acknowledgment passed through him.

“Father.” Ikenga turned at the sound of his son’s voice.

Ikem stood a short distance away, composed as always.

“Welcome back,” Ikem said.

Ikenga smiled.

“I heard you visited earlier,” he replied. “But I was not there. I had a few matters to tend to.”

His gaze lingered briefly on Ikem, assessing.

“You seem occupied.”

Ikem glanced toward the drifting streams of unrefined faith energy that continued to circulate through the realm.

“Tide’s incident left more behind than expected,” he said evenly. “It is steady now, but it still requires refinement.”

His tone carried neither complaint nor strain. Ikenga looked around once more, taking in the state of the realm, the towering Bara, and the controlled flow of power moving through it all.

Then his eyes shifted briefly to the four boxes floating beside him.

“I see,” he said calmly. There was more to say and more yet to unfold.

“I know,” Ikem said quietly after a moment of silence. He held Ikenga’s gaze without accusation, only clarity.

Ikenga’s brow rose slightly.

“Mother’s sadness reached both Maul and me because of our bond,” Ikem continued. “It was strong and painful, we had to visit to see what was wrong. So yes… I know.”

Silence answered him.

Ikenga did not look away.

“Are you mad,” Ikenga asked at last, his tone steady, “or disappointed in me?”

Ikem did not respond immediately.

He took a breath, not because he needed it, but because he chose to measure his words.

“Maul and I decided we would not involve ourselves,” Ikem said. “Whatever is between you and Mother is yours to resolve. We will not interfere.”

“So no. I am not mad.” A pause.

“I would say I am disappointed though, Father.”

Ikem watched Ikenga carefully, but the older being’s expression remained composed, unchanged.

“Your action was so like you,” Ikem continued, voice calm but firm. “And that is why I am disappointed. You sometimes act as if you have forgotten that there are people who care about you. People who will be hurt by what you choose to do.”

The words did not accuse but silence fell between them, heavy stretching longer than either cared to measure.

The realm itself seemed to quiet.

Boros, in his towering blood-red tree form, had been preparing to manifest and properly greet Ikenga. But sensing the atmosphere, he stilled. His branches remained motionless. This was not a moment to intrude upon.

It was then that another presence entered.

Radiant, warm. Ursula appeared, her figure materializing with a soft glow. Pure white fabric draped over her form, gentle and flowing. Glowing wings rested behind her back, feathers shimmering faintly in the ambient light of the realm.

Her belly was round and pronounced. Life unmistakably carried within her.

There was no tension in her.

No hesitation.

Her innocence shone openly as she hurried forward.

“Father!” she exclaimed brightly.

Without restraint, she threw herself into Ikenga’s arms, wrapping them around him with unfiltered affection.

“We heard you were back,” she continued excite

dly. “Ikem and I have been waiting! There is so much to tell you, you have missed so much!”

The heavy silence fractured Immediately, Ikenga instinctively caught her, steadying her with care, far more carefully than one might expect from him.

Behind her, Ikem watched.

And for a brief moment, the disappointment in his eyes softened not gone, but tempered by the simple fact that despite everything… They were still a family.

Hearing her call him father took Ikenga by surprise, the way she said it without hesitation, without distance.

And then there was her divinity.

It spread outward from her naturally, not as a display of power but as something instinctive. Soft. Pure. It rolled through the space between them like warm light, dissolving the sharp edges of the tension that had settled moments before.

Ikenga felt it clearly and leaned into, for the first time since arriving, his posture eased.

Welcoming the hug, a genuine smile broke across his face.

“Ha,” he laughed lightly. “I’m glad I came prepared.”

With one hand still steadying her, he gestured, and two of the floating boxes drifted toward Ursula. She took them carefully, eyes bright with curiosity and delight.

Ikem watched the exchange quietly.

Ikenga’s gaze then lowered to her rounded belly. The pleasant expression on his face softened further. He lifted a hand and placed it gently against it.

There was no overwhelming surge of power. No dramatic reaction. Just contact and then a response. Immediate and firm.

Ikenga’s brows lifted slightly before a low laugh escaped him.

“She is a strong one,” he said, amused and pleased.

Ursula’s smile widened, one hand resting over his.

“I know,” she replied softly.

Ikenga withdrew his hand slowly before glancing toward Ikem with a sideways look.

“I hope the blockhead has been taking good care of you?”

Ursula turned immediately toward Ikem, her expression bright.

“You have raised a good man, Father.” Ikenga blinked once at that.

Then he shook his head lightly.

“No, no,” he said dismissively. “I haven’t done much. He practically raised himself.”

Ursula’s wings shifted faintly as she shook her head.

“I doubt that,” she replied gently. “You have too much influence on him for that to be true.”

Ikem remained silent, but there was the faintest shift in his expression.

Ikenga glanced at his son.

For a brief moment, neither spoke. A mischievous smile appeared spreading across his face as his eyes shifted toward Ikem.

Ikem, for his part, was now glaring at Ursula with the restrained tension of someone who had suddenly become the center of attention.

“It seems I have a fan,” Ikenga said smoothly.

Ursula burst into laughter.

“He is more than a fan,” she added between snickers. “Look at him, all tense, not knowing how to act.”

That was it. Both of them pointed shamelessly at Ikem, laughter spilling freely and without restraint.

Ikem stood there, shoulders stiff, jaw tightening as he tried and failed to maintain composure.

Playing along fully, Ikenga spread his arms slightly.

“Come on, son,” he said through his laughter. “I don’t bite.”

Ursula, still giggling, took hold of Ikenga’s arm and began leading him toward their home within the realm, her wings fluttering lightly as she walked.

Their laughter echoed faintly as they moved farther away.

Ikem remained where he stood.

Watching their retreating backs.

Unsure whether to follow. Unsure whether to pretend none of that just happened.

It was then that Boros manifested beside him.

The massive blood-red tree form shifted and condensed, taking shape as a towering treant of crimson bark and deep-rooted presence. His heavy steps were quiet despite his size.

He placed a large wooden hand on Ikem’s shoulder.

“You chose a good one,” Boros said calmly.

Ikem said nothing in response.

He didn’t need to.

He and Bara both understood Ikenga’s personality better than most. For Ursula to see this side of him from their first official meeting spoke volumes. Ikenga did not open that part of himself easily.

And yet… “She handled him well,” Boros added.

Ikem’s eyes narrowed faintly as distant laughter reached them again.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep