Chapter 933: I’m Home

His voice rolled across the clearing like thunder wrapped in velvet.

“I’m home.”

And in that instant, his aura erupted.

A nova of force—equal parts thunderous and intimate—poured from him in a sweeping wave, but this time it wasn’t just the raw pressure of a force ascended. No. This was something else.

Familiarity.

That signature aura they had once come to know so intimately: cocky, smirking, half-insolent in the way only he could be, intertwined with the majesty he now wielded.

The presence that had once stood beside them during life-or-death situations, that had given each of them the chance to lead life the way they wanted to, that had comforted them in the darkest nights, that had willingly carried their burdens with a smile on his face, was still there.

Still him.

It was his grin, that arrogant, shit-eating grin that always meant trouble was about to start… That was what shattered any doubt still clinging to their hearts.

That was Quinlan.

Their Quinlan.

No imposter could ever recreate that look. That energy. That absurd mix of smug, fierce, protective, and unreasonably charming.

No god could mimic the exact tilt of his brow when teasing. No monster could fake the warmth behind his smirk. No ancient soul could replicate the chaos that came with just one word spoken in that drawl of his.

He was back.

Ascended, terrifying, radiant, but unmistakably him. Their beloved Quinlan.

And that realization hit them like a sunrise after a century of night.

But before any of them could move, Quinlan arched a brow, his grin turning lopsided. “What, am I about to be attacked in my own home by my own girls?”

He gave a long-suffering sigh and shook his head, voice dripping with that signature cocky warmth of his. “World’s really gone to crap while I was gone, huh?”

The smirk that followed was criminal. That same arrogant tilt, the little crinkle at the corner of his eyes, that damned glint in them that promised chaos and safety in equal measure.

It was so Quinlan that their hearts couldn’t bear it.

Ayame’s hand finally dropped from her katana, trembling as tears brimmed and spilled freely. Her jaw clenched, but her resolve shattered. This wasn’t a mirage. He was real. He was here.

Seraphiel exhaled with such strength in her lungs it seemed as if she’d been underwater for way too long. Her hands rose to her heart as her bow dematerialized, forming two tight fists in front of her heart. “It’s really you…”

Lucille’s axe hung forgotten as she stared, stunned. Then, her business-like smile transformed, creeping up into a giant, overjoyed smile. She was straight-up beaming at him like the sun.

Aurora’s knees gave way. Her fingers clutched around her staff, grounding herself. Her chest ached, tight with joy so intense it hurt while her heart outright sang.

Even Blossom, who’d become quite the silent woman since his departure, blinked twice before whispering, “Master…” with the most loyal individual’s reverence and a girl’s desperate hope.

And Rosie…

Rosie’s eyes locked onto him with glassy wonder. Her hands fluttered to her mouth while her smile broke free, bright and trembling.

Quinlan’s gaze swept over them, drinking in their presence before he sighed once again, “Well, I don’t know why I sensed so much killing intent sent my way from you ladies, but I swear I didn’t cheat on you while I was out.”

“Hah!”

Seraphiel let out a soft snort, eyes misty but sharp with familiar wit. “Still utterly shameless, hmm?” she giggled, brushing a lock of golden hair behind her ear. “Only you would make a slow, theatrical entrance on purpose, and then act surprised we didn’t fall at your feet immediately. Because that’s what this was, isn’t it? Instead of teleporting to us instantly like you did each time up until now, you deliberately put on a light show this time around…”

Ayame narrowed her eyes into fiery slits once her brain registered the elven woman’s words, realizing how right she was to question him. Her voice came out in a low growl. “And now you have the gall to blame us for reacting the way we did…?” Her hand twitched near her blade again.

Quinlan’s grin only grew, slowly, wickedly, that damned arrogant lilt taking over his face like the rising sun.

He then raised both hands in mock surrender, cocking his head to the sight. “You caught me.”

As he confessed, his voice brimmed with playfulness and something warmer underneath. “Guilty as charged.”

That was it.

That exact blend of roguish charm and unrepentant theatricality, that knowing look, that confession wrapped in jokes… that was him.

It cracked the last thread of restraint in all of them.

The tears came, unabashed, unstoppable.

Because that grin, that shameless little performance he put on just to mess with his loved ones, that spark of drama for drama’s sake… it was so him. The Quinlan they had laughed with, fought beside, leaned on. The Quinlan who had teased and provoked and loved with such intensity that even his faults became cherished.

Three months.

Three long, unbearable months without this voice, this face, this soul.

And now he was here, grinning like an idiot, hands up in surrender, entirely himself.

They couldn’t hold back anymore.

Ayame’s mouth wobbled, her hand falling limp. Seraphiel’s breath caught in her throat. Lucille only shook her head with a giant smirk dancing on her lips. Aurora gasped through a sob, shoulders trembling. While Blossom… she was just crying tears of pure relief and joy.

And Rosie—tiny, trembling Rosie—burst into a bright laugh. “Daddy!!!”

A wave of emotion that refused to be contained surged through them, and all at once, they launched.

Blossom was first. Of course she was…

The Void Stalker girl blinked out of existence and reappeared a heartbeat later, right on top of him. Arms already wrapped tight around his torso, face buried in his neck, the dogkin girl gripped onto him with enough force to turn a lesser man into paste on the forest floor.

Quinlan staggered, but only just a bit. His feet dug in, his smile stretching wide as his arms began to lift.

And then Ayame came.

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