Chapter 23 – All Roads Lead to Mommy

【Alfred PoV】

I stopped walking about half a mile from the ruins.

Not because I was tired, not because I needed a break, but because the pendant in my pocket was literally burning hot against my leg. Not metaphorically hot, actually physically hot, like someone had stuck a glowing coal in my pants.

Magic residue doing what magic residue does best—being inconvenient.

I pulled it out, holding the silver wolf charm up to the fading sunlight. The metal still pulsed with that foreign mana signature, the one that definitely didn’t belong to Fred. K.R., whoever they were, had left quite the magical footprint on this thing.

And now that I was actually paying attention, not distracted by corpses and guilt, I could read that footprint properly.

Oh no.

The signature was layered, complex, woven with threads of imperial-standard containment magic. The kind of spellwork you only learned in one place, taught by one specific group of people. I’d recognize it anywhere because I used to work with them, used to be one of them.

Imperial Mages.

The Missing Hero hadn’t gotten lost during the summoning. They’d been intercepted, grabbed by someone with resources and knowledge and imperial authorization. Someone had known exactly when and where that second Otherworlder would appear.​

And they’d taken them straight to the capital.

“No. No, no, no, absolutely not.”

I said it out loud, like verbal denial could change reality. The pendant just kept glowing, mocking me with its implications. Every magical signature pointed in the same direction, like a compass that only showed the one destination I’d been avoiding for years.

The Imperial Capital.

The Empress’s territory.

Her city, her throne, her domain where her word was literally law and I was extremely, catastrophically not welcome.​

“Author, I know you can hear me.”

I looked up at the sky, addressing whatever cosmic force was writing this disaster.

“We need to talk about your plot progression. This is lazy. This is forcing the protagonist into the ex-girlfriend arc because you ran out of ideas. I’d rather fight ten more Freds than deal with this.”

The sky didn’t respond. It never did. But I could swear I felt the universe laughing at me.

The thing was, I couldn’t just ignore this. The Missing Hero was in the capital, probably confused, probably scared, definitely being manipulated by someone with an agenda. And if they snapped, if they went full protagonist mode inside the most densely populated city in the empire, the death toll would make Fred’s tantrum look like a minor inconvenience.

Thousands would die. Maybe tens of thousands.

I had to go. Had to walk straight into the lion’s den and somehow extract an Otherworlder from imperial custody without causing an international incident or running into her.

The Empress.

My ex. My former partner. The mother of my child.

The most powerful mage in Eldoria who’d been trying to drag me back for years.​

“This job doesn’t pay enough for this nonsense.”

I pocketed the pendant again, ignoring the heat. My mind was already racing through scenarios, calculating risks, trying to find some angle that didn’t end with me in chains or dead or worse—domesticated.

Because that’s what she wanted, wasn’t it? To cage the Wild Red Wolf, turn the empire’s best operative into a proper father and consort. Make me settle down, give up the field work, play house in some gilded palace while she ruled the world.​

And the kid. My son.

I’d been avoiding that reality for years, pushing it down, pretending I could just keep running forever. But he was growing up without me, asking questions I wasn’t there to answer. The guilt of that sat heavy in my chest, competing with the guilt over Fred.

I was collecting guilt like some people collected stamps.

“Get it together, Alfred. Job first, existential crisis later.”

I started walking again, heading back toward the ruins. I needed to tie up loose ends before I left. Brendon deserved an explanation, or at least a goodbye. The guy had handled himself well, fought a superpowered teenager and won. He’d earned some closure.

The sun was nearly set now, painting everything in deep oranges and purples. Poetic timing, really. End of one chapter, beginning of another. The Author was really laying it on thick with the symbolism.

I found Brendon where I’d left him, coordinating with survivors. He’d removed his helmet, revealing a scarred face that matched his armor’s aesthetic. Dark hair, tired eyes, the look of someone who’d seen too much and kept going anyway.

Respect.

“You’re leaving.”

He said it like a fact, not a question. Guy had good instincts.

“Yeah. Got a lead on the other Otherworlder. Need to chase it down before they cause more problems.”

Brendon nodded, not asking for details. Professional courtesy, one monster hunter to another.

“The survivors will rebuild. They always do.”

“You’ll help them?”

“Someone has to.”

We stood there in comfortable silence for a moment, two people who understood that heroism was mostly just showing up and doing the work nobody else wanted to do.

“If you’re ever in the area again, look me up. Could use someone who knows how to handle these things.”

I almost laughed. If I survived the capital, if I managed to extract the Missing Hero and avoid getting trapped by the Empress, maybe I’d take him up on that offer.

But probably not.

“Stay alive, Brendon. The world needs more people like you.”

“Same to you, Nori. Or whatever your real name is.”

I didn’t correct him. Let him think I was just some Guild contractor with a mask and mysterious past. Better than explaining the truth.

I turned to leave, then paused.

“The girl, Sylvia. Put her out of her misery if you can. She’s gone, and keeping the body alive is just cruelty.”

Brendon’s expression hardened, but he nodded. He understood mercy killing better than most.

I walked away before the conversation could get any heavier. I’d hit my emotional quota for the day, maybe the week. Time to focus on logistics.

The capital was three days’ travel if I pushed hard, maybe two if I used Wind Step and didn’t sleep much. I’d need to enter quietly, avoid the usual checkpoints, find where they were keeping the Missing Hero. Then extract them without alerting imperial security or triggering any of the dozen magical alarms that probably surrounded the palace.​

Simple. Easy. Absolutely doable.

And if I ran into her, if the Empress somehow found out I was in her city?

I’d improvise. Maybe fake my death again. Worked the first time.

The road stretched out before me, dark and winding through the forest. Somewhere ahead was the capital, glittering and dangerous and full of people I’d rather avoid. Somewhere in that city was a scared kid with god-tier powers and no idea what kind of pawn they’d become.

And somewhere in the palace was the Empress, probably sitting on her throne, probably already knowing I was coming.

Because she always knew. That was her thing. Information, strategy, being three steps ahead of everyone else. We’d been perfect together once, when we were both young operatives thinking we could change the world.​

Then I got her pregnant and everything fell apart.

“Focus, Alfred. One disaster at a time.”

I adjusted my mask, checked my weapons, started the mental checklist of supplies I’d need. Disguises, forged documents, backup identities. Maybe a wig. Did I still have that blonde wig from the Merchant Guild job?

The pendant pulsed in my pocket, reminding me why I was doing this. K.R., whoever they were, needed help. Needed extraction before they became the next Fred, the next tragedy I’d have to clean up while drowning in guilt.

This was my job. My responsibility. Even if it meant walking straight into the trap I’d been avoiding for years.

Even if it meant facing her.

“All roads lead to Mommy, apparently.”

I said it with bitter humor, trying to laugh at the cosmic joke. But honestly? I was terrified. Not of the danger, not of the imperial guards or the magical defenses or even the Missing Hero potentially going berserk.

I was terrified of seeing my son’s face and realizing I’d wasted years running from the best thing I’d ever accidentally created.​

But that was future Alfred’s problem.

Present Alfred needed to get to the capital, find the Missing Hero, and somehow avoid getting dragged into family drama. Simple plan. Probably wouldn’t work. But it was the only plan I had.

I started walking faster, letting Wind Step carry me forward in long, silent strides. The forest blurred around me, trees becoming shadows, night falling like a curtain.

Somewhere ahead was the capital.

Somewhere ahead was everything I’d been running from.

And I, Alfred von Schmidt, cosmic janitor and professional disaster-magnet, was walking straight toward it with my eyes wide open.​

The Author better have a good redemption arc planned.

Because I was really, really not ready for this.