Chapter 54:

Chapter 54

Suimen: Volume 4


Aboard the Universal Guard’s Arcship, en route to Central District Minamo. ETA: 12 hours.

Eris
(cross-legged on a star couch, nibbling a Candy Star)
It’s almost unsettling. No ambushes, no frost knights, no mental manipulation. Just… quiet.

Alto
(mouth full of Alto-Styled Ice Cream)
Don’t jinx it.

Celeste
(reclining on an invisible sound hammock)
We earned this.
Also, thank you to Shizuku for the space-time delivery enchantment.
(pulls a silver box from midair)
I would’ve cried if I didn’t get my Deep Fried Dragon Steak.

Shizuku
(sipping Star-Sparkling Water, sitting backwards on a chair like a menace)
I also got you that triple-layered Marshmallow Milkshake, Celeste.
Say thank you to the Emperor of Logistics.

Celeste
I’d thank you if I wasn’t still emotionally processing you buying an entire vacation home empire in Raureif.

Berwick
(sipping Spirit Wine, scribbling notes)
This is the first time in a while I’ve seen us like this. Resting.
No one’s bleeding. No one's screaming.

Asche
(peeling open a Berwitto)
Don’t tempt fate, von Blutschwert.

Lily
(staring at the stars, quietly holding her box of “Lily’s Platter”)
...I miss him already.

Astera
(slumped next to her, sharing his Astera-style Scrambled Eggs)
He’s already scheduling regional hearings.
By this time next week, he’ll be knee-deep in tax debates and mana-grid repairs.

Lily
(still watching the stars)
Do you think he’ll be okay?

Shizuku
(serious now)
He’ll be more than okay.
He has Raureif’s heart. All we did was warm it up again.

Cut to: a flashback echo—Kalt XVIII on the Raureif palace balcony, waving goodbye as the Arcship rose into the sky. His nobles flanked him. His robes flowed in the wind. He didn’t look afraid anymore.

Back in the present, the arcship drifts calmly. Celeste starts playing soft orchestral jazz from a hovering record rune. Everyone leans back.

Eris
(tired smile)
Twelve hours to home.

Berwick
Correction—
Twelve hours to the next problem.

Alto
(smirking)

Let’s just enjoy the part where we’re not being punched in the face by existential frost gods.

Arismu
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