Spirit's Awakening: The Path of Lightning and Water-Chapter 352: The Prodigal Son Returns

Milo’s hurried footsteps receded into the distance, leaving Ulric alone with the embodiment of storm that stood before him. Despite the man—Lassim—relaxing his spiritual pressure, the residual hum of his power lingered in the air and turned his already turbulent thoughts further into chaos..

Ulric gripped his elemental sword tightly, his knuckles white as he struggled to maintain his composure. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

How could this be the young master? He hadn’t been more than a boy the last time Ulric saw him, yet the figure before him was a cultivator of unfathomable strength.

The sound of heavy boots on cobblestones pulled Ulric from his spiraling thoughts.

Gryphon Vanthar, the estate’s Captain of the Guard, arrived at the gates in a huff, a bit grumpy, but ready for a fight. His hand rested on the hilt of his one-handed sword, already summoned at the ready—the weapon shimmering faintly with the signature glow common for nearly all of the Vanthar family, his fire elemental nature.

"What’s the commotion, Ulric?" Gryphon barked, his voice a commanding growl as his eyes swept over the scene before landing on the stranger standing just beyond the gate.

Ulric saluted, his voice strained but steady. "Captain, this man claims to be your nephew…but—"

Gryphon’s movements froze for the briefest moment, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. His gaze snapped back to the figure, eyes narrowing as he took in the swirling lightning eyes and the faintest wisps of stormy spiritual pressure that surrounded the man despite his best efforts to retract his power.

"You’ve got some nerve showing up here and calling yourself my nephew. There’s only one young master that has the right to call himself that and he should be in the Southern Continent. Last I saw him, he was still a Spirit Incubation babe beginning his journey towards the academy." Gryphon said, stepping closer.

The man—no, Lassim—grinned faintly, his storm-filled eyes meeting Gryphon’s fiery gaze without hesitation. "Uncle Gryphon, have I really changed so much that you don’t recognize me?"

The words struck Gryphon like a hammer. That voice—it was older, deeper, but there was no mistaking the familiar cadence, the tone of a boy who had once shadowed him in training at the barracks, begged for extra sparring lessons, and swiped pastries from the kitchen when he thought no one was looking to share between the two of them, or the reply shouted from the forest when calling him for dinner or missed lessons.

Still, the sheer absurdity of the situation left Gryphon wary. He took another step forward, his fiery aura flaring. "If you’re really Lassim, prove it. Say something only he would know."

Lassim’s grin widened as he crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. "Alright. How about this? You’re the one who taught me the proper way to tie my boots because I kept tripping during drills, and you told me not to tell Father because you didn’t want him to think you were soft."

Gryphon’s breath caught, his fiery aura dimming as shock flickered across his face. Only Lassim could have known that—it was a memory from years ago, a small moment shared between him and the young boy that he fondly remembered.

"You stinking brat," Gryphon muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he strode forward.

Before Lassim could react, Gryphon crossed the distance and threw his arms around him, pulling him into a crushing hug. The weight of his uncle’s embrace was both familiar and overwhelming.

"You really came back," Gryphon said, his voice a rough whisper. "You’re alive and well. When you’d disappeared for those 5 years, I was forced to comfort your father most days. When you returned but instantly continued to the south, I’d become worried again. You’ve also not sent any messages back recently, so your father’s pacings in his office have become more frequent."

Lassim chuckled softly, patting Gryphon’s back and returning the hug. "I told you I’d come back eventually, Uncle. Did you think I’d break my promise? I was just in the area and thought I’d stop by before I had to return."

Pulling back, Gryphon looked Lassim up and down, his fiery eyes filled with equal parts pride and disbelief. "Look at you... You’re taller than me now, you damn bean sprout, and I can feel the power rolling off you. Just what in the heavens have you been up to, kid?"

Before Lassim could respond, a sudden surge of heat swept through the air with a crushing heat like the sun, and both men turned toward the approaching figure.

Everard Vanthar, the Iron Marquis himself, strode toward the gates, his presence a blazing inferno that demanded attention. His two-handed bastard sword was slung across his back in a custom flame-wrapped holster made of his own mana, its edges glowing faintly with the latent energy of his fire elemental spirit.

His expression was grim, his eyes scanning the scene with the sharpness of a hawk as he worried that the estate was under attack or someone was here to cause trouble.

He’d felt the sudden arrival of the stranger at the front gates with his spirit sense. He was concerned about the nature of the visit and had only been a few steps behind before deciding to see what this was all about.

"Gryphon, report," Everard commanded with a seriousness as if ready to step off into battle.

Gryphon stepped aside, letting the lingering hug go, before gesturing toward Lassim. "It’s him, Everard. It’s your boy."

Everard’s fiery gaze locked onto Lassim, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.

The tension in the air was palpable as father and son stared at each other, the years of separation and countless unspoken words hanging between them.

"Father," Lassim said, his voice tinged with emotion as his eyes became slightly wet.

Everard took a single step forward, then another, his stoic mask that was ready for a war cracking as the reality of the moment sank in. How could he not instantly recognize his own child. All the features that reminded him of himself and his wife’s love were still present.

His elemental weapon, mostly used a symbol of his power as it was the main object in the Vanthar family crest, floated up from his back, gently floating into the air by itself as he closed the distance and pulled Lassim into a warm embrace that burned with both love and relief.

"You’re home," Everard said, his voice thick with emotion. "My boy... you’re finally home."

Lassim returned the embrace, his own composure slipping as the weight of the moment overwhelmed him.

For the first time in years, nearly 9 years since he left for the Myriad Spirit Academy, he once again felt the warmth of his father’s strength and the unyielding support that had been his foundation growing up.

When they finally pulled apart, Everard placed both his hands on Lassim’s shoulders, his fiery eyes searching his son’s face. "You’ve grown stronger," he said, his voice filled with pride. "I can’t believe it!"

Before Lassim could respond, a new voice chimed in, earthy, bright and curious.

"Did someone say nephew?"

Egelina Rohese Vanthar appeared, her emerald green eyes sparkling with a mixture of curiosity with an ever present poise and grace to her steps that were light as she approached. The familiar smell of nature and grass off her presence radiating like sunlight breaking through a tree’s canopy.

When her gaze landed on Lassim, she froze, her hand covering her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.

"Lassim?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Lassim turned to her, his smile softening further. "Mother."

With a choked sob, Egelina closed the distance instantly and embraced her son, her arms wrapping around him as if to anchor herself to the moment.

"You’ve come back to us," she said, her voice breaking. "Oh, my darling boy, you’ve come back."

The family stood together at the gates of the Vanthar estate, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the scene.

For a brief moment, the world felt whole again.

Lassim took a deep breath, his stormy eyes glancing between his parents and uncle. "I have so much to tell you," he said, his voice steady. "But first, let’s go inside. It’s been a long journey and unfortunately I can only stay for a day or so before I should return."

Everard nodded, placing a hand on Lassim’s shoulder as they turned toward the estate.

"Welcome home, son."

The Vanthar family stepped through the gates, their hearts alight with joy as they led Lassim through the estate. Egelina’s hand never left her son’s arm, wrapped around it as if wanting to never let go.

"My baby," she murmured again, her voice trembling with a mix of relief and joy. "You’re so grown now"

Lassim couldn’t help but smile, "I’ve missed you too, Mother," he replied.

As they passed under the grand archway leading into the main courtyard, Everard paused, his fiery aura dimming entirely.

The stoic Iron Marquis was gone, replaced by a father overcome with pride and curiosity. "Let’s head inside," he said with a gruff voice filled with emotion. "Your mother’s likely to faint if she doesn’t sit down soon, and I need to hear everything you’ve been up to."

Gryphon let out a laugh, patting Lassim on the back hard enough to jostle him. "You’ve got stories to tell, boy! Don’t think we’ll let you leave ’in a day or two’ like that without sharing."

Lassim laughed as the group entered the estate’s main hall. The grand space was just as he remembered it—spacious and warm, with the familiar scent of cedarwood and faintly burning incense filled the air from the small altar to the flame god, Ribus, a comforting sensation.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

Egelina turned to the nearest servant, her expression one of odd curiosity at the closeness of the stranger that was being so fondly escorted in. "Lera, have the kitchen prepare dinner immediately. Make sure there’s plenty of Lassim’s favorites—the meat pies and chocolate buns especially."

She smiled at Lassim, her emerald eyes sparkling. "You look like you haven’t eaten well in months."

"Mother," Lassim said with a chuckle, "I’ve been eating fine, but I won’t say no to a homemade meal."

Egelina grinned, brushing his cheek with her hand. "Good boy. Now, go sit. You’ll tell us everything, and I mean everything, over dinner."

The family moved toward the dining room, as the maid servant did her best to not rush off into a flurry to share the gossip that the young master had returned. Not only had he returned, but he was a tall and handsome young man with a deep, stormy feeling of power that nearly gave her the chills when she stared into his stormy eyes.