Primordial's Conquest

Chapter 17: Starting point.

"That is everything I wanted to talk to you about for now. I think it's about time you head back." Bastain said as he looked towards the study's door – Where Ophilia was now standing.

Arbus blinked in surprise.

She had somehow entered the room at some point during their conversation without him even noticing it – despite his powerful senses that he was always so proud of.

It seemed she had already escorted Yome and Bridge back to their ship a while ago.

Eventually he glanced back at Bastain with a complicated expression.

"Back to where?"

"I don't have anywhere to go."

There was absolutely no chance of him returning to Terytl-B after everything that had happened.

He was sure he wouldn't be allowed to either.

For a few months at the very least, Terytl-B would become a restricted planet.

"Your home on KT, naturally. I'm sure your master had someone keep it intact for you." Bastian replied.

Arbus's mind raced with memories of KT. The refugee civilisation on one of Tarok's moons.

It was one of the many places survivors from star systems destroyed by the Reincarnators usually ended up at.

He had lived there for the past six years with his mentor – Trip seobang, his grandfather's closest friend.

After he had returned from Paradis six years ago, he was promptly banished from Tarok.

He had been shocked and terrified to be kicked out from the only home he had ever known.

He had nowhere else to go.

To his surprise, his master Trip had stepped up to go with him.

The Tarokians were left stunned by this, but ultimately didn't care.

Trip had taken him to KT, where he'd visited once with his mother.

Naturally, the traumatized refugees on the moon were terrified of his human appearance.

They would have no doubt attacked him in grief or rage if not for his master, a retired commander.

"In a few days, after you're sufficiently prepared, a transport will arrive to take you to one the training facilities for knights." Bastian continued.

"The council would riot if I sent you to an elite one, so instead i've chosen one that will be a sufficient enough challenge for you." He added with a slight smile.

"Anyways, I'm sure Ophilia has already prepared a transport to take you there for now. Let's meet again at a later date Arbus."

His expression darkened slightly.

"I still have a lot to deal with concerning Terytl-B."

Arbus glanced at Ophilia who was quietly gesturing for him to follow her toward the entrance.

He obliged as he slowly walked towards the door.

Then, he came to a halt as a sudden thought flashed through his mind.

He glanced back at Bastain with a complicated expression.

"There's one last thing I want to ask you, if you don't mind."

Bastian's brow raised slightly.

"Of course, anything."

Arbus considered his words for several moments.

" How... Are my parents doing."

Bastian didn't say anything for a while as he stared at Arbus.

Eventually, he let out sigh.

"That's a complicated question." He replied thoughtfully.

"Your mother, well, I suppose she's doing fine. She's securely locked up on Tarok as punishment for her deeds."

"You should be thankful to your grandfather for that. He had thrown away his pride and knelt before the emperor for weeks with his head bowed, begging for his daughter to be spared so he could keep her imprisoned for the rest of her life."

"That would usually mean nothing to the emperor," Bastian continued. "Anyone willingly, and sometimes unwillingly colluding with a Reincarnator is put to death, without exception. But for some reason, he felt lenient enough to let her live."

Arbus's gaze trembled as he let out the breath he didn't even realise he'd been holding.

It felt like a weight he'd been carrying for years had suddenly lifted off his shoulders.

No one had told him anything about his mother before today. He hadn't brought it up last time with Bastian, because he had been terrified to overstep with a Sentinel despite Bastian's urging.

Even his master refused to tell him anything.

A sense of relief washed over him.

A moment later, Bastian continued on.

"As for your father... Well no one knows for sure."

"Usually, any Reincarnator caught would be interrogated and executed."

"But Joren Kaelen cannot be killed."

"From the rumours I have heard through the grapevine, he is most likely being held in the Emperor's Home."

"It is quite a surprising rumour, considering the emperor had never dealt with such a task before, not when the Pinnacles exist.

"Still, if that is the case, then he should be doing somewhat fine as well."

Arbus remained still as his gaze grew distant.

His love for his father was the most contradictory emotion he felt.

Especially after everything he had been through.

Everything he had seen other Humans do.

He hated Reincarnators and the primordial so much.

And yet, at the same time, he wanted his father back with all his heart.

Eventually, Arbus turned to Bastian as he nodded gratefully.

"Thank you. Thank you for everything, Sentinel."

Bastian smiled back as he watched Arbus walk out the door with Ophilia guiding him.

After he heard the sound of the lift at the very end of the floor, his smile suddenly faded.

He leaned back in his chair as an unreadable expression appeared on his face.

Then, he turned to his opulent dark-wood Desk's drawer as he pulled out a communication device, transmitting several messages to certain people.

Ophilia returned to the room silently a few minutes later after seeing Arbus to a transport ship of a captain under her.

She closed the door as she walked over to Bastain.

She said nothing as she stood beside him for several minutes, patiently waiting for him to finish up with his messages.

After a few more minutes, he was done sending the messages, along with a few documents.

Finally, Ophilia broke the silence as she turned to him.

"So?"

Bastian nodded slowly as he clasped his hands together and leaned back into his seat.

"Yes, it seems we are back on track."

"Finally... after all these years."

Bastian's unreadable gaze landed on the room's door.

"Arbus, he's still too naive and weak willed, despite how real his conviction is."

"The hatred I saw in his eyes all those years ago seems to have subsided a bit, overtaking by doubt and guilt." He said, a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"But it won't last for too long."

"I'm counting on that."