Chapter 49

The glass dome above reflects the soft northern aurora, filtered through mana-stabilized snowlight. Kalt XVIII stands surrounded by crystalline blueprints, tuning fork regulators, and half-finished mana-node calibrators, furiously scribbling notes as Celeste, Eris, and Astera lecture him.

Astera
(arms crossed, amused)
Okay, now tell me again—what’s the difference between photonic current and radiant pressure?

Kalt
(panicking)
One… glows more?

Celeste
(face in hands)
We’re doomed.

Eris
(stifling a laugh)
He's improving! At least he remembered they both glow.

Kalt
(defensively)
I was training with a scythe yesterday! My head’s still in survival mode.

Suddenly, the chamber’s mana field shifts. Like an aroma of petrichor after a spring storm, the entire hall blooms in scent and pressure. Petals—real and arcane—begin to spiral down from the dome, and a wave of floral energy swirls like silent thunder.

The teleportation glyph behind Kalt illuminates in soft pinks and golds. A being steps out, cloaked in regal thorns and blossoms, his very presence reshaping the room’s scent, tone, and atmosphere.

Enter: Rhodendris Azalea Flores — The Floral Emperor. Father of Astera. The 6th strongest mortal in the universe.

Rhodendris Azalea Flores
(calmly, voice gentle yet undeniable)
So this… is the frostbitten kingdom of Raureif?

Everyone stops. Kalt spins around, eyes wide. Astera instantly straightens his posture.

Astera
(firmly)
Father.

Azalea
(nods with warm amusement)
My son. You’ve done well. And this must be the young elf I’ve heard about.

Kalt
(meekly)
Kalt… the Eighteenth.

Azalea
(stepping forward, towering, radiant)
Then let me see your hands, child.

Kalt instinctively offers his palms. Rhodendris examines them like they are roots to a tree he's judging for growth.

Azalea
(curt, yet not unkind)
Soft. Still learning. Still trembling.
Good. Rulers should fear failing their people more than they fear death.

Celeste
(grinning from a corner)
Oooh, flower dad is poetic.

Azalea
(turning to her)
Ah, Celeste. The loud one.

Celeste
(mock curtsy)
At your service, rose daddy.

Astera
(groaning)
Please never say that again.

Azalea
(smirks, then serious)
I came to inspect Raureif’s soil. And to see if this kingdom’s new roots will hold.
Kalt XVIII… You inherited a frozen throne, but you stand in a time of bloom.
Let’s see if you can survive spring.

Kalt swallows, meeting the Floral Emperor’s gaze with the quiet courage only someone who’s lost everything can carry.

Kalt
(straightening his back)
I don’t know how to build a kingdom. But I’ll learn. And I’ll guard these roots with my life.

Azalea
(gently)
Then you may be worthy yet.

The chamber fills with blooming light. And as petals fall silently around them, the education of Raureif’s young ruler continues—now with the gaze of one of the universe’s oldest blooms watching close.