“It wasn’t exactly unfamiliar, but it still felt strange after so long.”

Returning to his homeland after leaving to join the war against Silvania, Richard felt an odd sense of unfamiliarity. At first, he assumed it was simply the result of being away for so long. But Somerset Estate had developed so much in his absence, with new buildings that he had never seen before.

“Still, the people here seem so happy,” Syfris remarked, standing beside him and observing the lively estate.

Everywhere, people were bustling with energy, and children darted around, visibly excited about something. Syfris, who had been traveling across the Empire to confront the servants of the night, felt a rare sense of peace upon seeing such a vibrant estate. It was uncommon to see such joyful expressions from citizens within the Empire.

“Well, my father is a good lord.”

“Richard…”

“I don’t even know how I’ll be able to face him! Really…”

The closer he got to his hometown, the more Richard’s face clouded with anxiety. He felt brazenly shameless returning now as the wayward eldest son who had left his family behind to join a war and achieve glory out of youthful arrogance. His father was now aging, his brother Rupert had always been gentle and quiet, and his little sister Ada was just a baby when he left.

He could hardly bear the thought of facing the family he had abandoned for his own ambitions.

“Don’t worry. Family is the one thing that will embrace you, even when you’ve made far greater mistakes.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Richard looked into Syfris’s eyes as she reassured him, holding her hand.

It had been years since they became comrades within the Crimson Warden.

“I want to be a part of your family. Once this is all over…”

As Richard spoke, he leaned closer to Syfris, their faces drawing together, their lips nearly touching—

“Enough with the nonsense. Your task is not to flirt with an elf here, but to go to the Somerset family and reveal our presence to request their cooperation.”

Alexander, wielding his hammer-like presence, interrupted.

“Ahem, I understand.”

“Then move. Indulging in such nonsense before a holy war is disgraceful.”

With Alexander’s reprimand, Richard and Syfris blushed, quickly stepping apart before Richard hurried ahead to the family estate to explain the situation.

“Captain, can’t you allow even a few seconds for young love?”

“I’ve never seen those who whisper tender words on the battlefield live long.”

Despite Xenia’s reproachful tone, Alexander’s attitude remained unchanged as he observed the interaction.

“Honestly, you’re so gentle in front of others, but why are you so harsh with your own?”

Having joined the allied forces and fought in several battles, Xenia had come to realize that Alexander wasn’t as bad as her first impression suggested. Though, when dealing with dark elves, he could easily be described as a demon of hell, exuding an overwhelming bloodlust.

However, when he interacted with ordinary people, he was like a saint straight from a painting, calm and benevolent.

“Ordinary people are the ones who truly deserve respect. They spend their lives pursuing the missions the Goddess has set for them.”

“What?”

“Compared to them, we are merely destroyers, fighting and killing our enemies. Beautiful souls deserve respect—you haven’t grasped that yet.”

Xenia struggled to understand Alexander’s perspective.

Ordinary people had their roles, of course, but the allied forces were comprised of elites—exceptional individuals, from elves who were natural archers and spirit wielders, to the best mages of the Empire recognized by the Magic Tower, and the Holy Knights representing the Church.

These individuals were extraordinary, weren’t they?

To Xenia, the allied forces seemed like a fairytale brought to life, each person carrying a significant role.

But Alexander dismissed the allied forces as insignificant compared to the ordinary people, who he claimed were the ones truly deserving of respect.

“A real hero isn’t the one who slays dragons or vanquishes monsters. It’s the one who reaches out to those struggling right in front of them.”

Alexander’s gaze was fixed on the children running, laughing, and playing with boundless energy.

 

“Richard, is it truly you?!”

Count Bradley’s eyes widened in disbelief.

After going to war, his eldest son had been lost without any word of his survival, and now here he was, returning to the family estate.

Blinking to check if he was dreaming, the Count took another look and confirmed that, while Richard’s appearance had changed slightly, this was indeed his son.

“Father, I’m sorry I couldn’t return sooner.”

“You fool! If you were alive all this time, how could you not send even a single word?!”

Tears streamed down Count Bradley’s face.

He recalled the days he’d spent in despair, thinking Richard had perished. He wished he could have done more—perhaps sent guards to protect him or used money to track him down.

But he’d done nothing, and the regret weighed heavily on his heart.

“You’re here, brother.”

“Rupert!”

Rupert, who had come rushing over upon hearing the news of Richard’s return, stood in awe.

“You’ve grown so much—I barely recognized you.”

“You’ve changed quite a bit yourself over these past few years, brother.”

“Haha. I’ve had my share of experiences…”

Richard was taken aback to see Rupert, who had been a child when he left, now a grown young man. Rupert, in turn, was astonished at his elder brother’s appearance.

‘What on earth… He looks more like the heir of the Northern Border Marquis than a Somerset.’

Unlike the slender, graceful build of Count Bradley and Rupert, Richard was a head taller, his body packed with muscle, exuding a solid, warrior-like presence.

Just then—

“Wow! That sword is huge!”

Ada’s gaze was fixated on Richard’s massive sword rather than on him.

“Ada? Are you really Ada?”

Richard asked, watching the little girl bouncing excitedly around his sword.

“I’m not Ada! I’m Hansel!”

“Hansel?”

“Yes, she is Ada, brother,” Rupert clarified, smiling as Ada, annoyed, climbed onto his shoulders, declaring her new name insistently.

“Hansel!”

“Alright, alright! Hansel, please don’t bite me!”

Rupert was visibly flustered.

Ada, who had recently grown strong enough to overpower Owen, was now an unstoppable force around the Somerset estate.

‘Somerset Style, Carrot Sorting!’

‘Ada, you need to eat everything, not just the parts you like.’

‘No, I don’t want to!’

With no one able to control her, she roamed the estate with Lash, raiding the snacks hidden by the maids as if it were her daily routine.

‘Hand over Sena!’

‘Ada, calm down! Sena has to draw right now!’

‘No, Ada wants to play!’

She even kidnapped Sena, who was older and larger than her, by forcing her onto Lash’s back. Though the other artists, including Rupert, had all tried to stop her, it barely lasted a second.

‘It’s like giving a child a button to a bomb.’

Once, Rupert had humorously used Ada’s punches as a massage, but now he feared they would knock him out cold.

Currently, Ada was perched on his shoulders, ready to bite at any response she didn’t like.

“Hansel is hungry now!”

Pleased with his response, Ada released her bite, tapping her stomach with her hand.

“Master, gentlemen, the meal is ready. Shall we head inside for a conversation over food?”

“It’s been a while, Alain.”

“I’m glad you’re safe, young master.”

Noting the meal announcement, Richard warmly embraced Alain, who was similarly emotional, having once considered Richard as a potential heir to the Somerset legacy.

Having cared for the three Somerset siblings since they were babies, Alain felt as if his own child had returned.

“Let’s go inside. Richard, you must tell us what happened to you.”

And so, the entire Somerset family gathered for a rare meal together.

 

“… And that’s why I couldn’t return until now.”

The Count and Rupert, seated at the table, were left speechless by Richard’s story.

“Wait… so you say you were fighting in the war, fled to the forest, and there, you met a master?”

Richard nodded in response to the Count’s question.

“And this master turned out to be the leader of a secret organization combating the servants of the night?”

Rupert followed up, and Richard nodded again.

“To think that the man who taught you swordsmanship was none other than the Sword Saint, Kal Oregon.”

Learning that the master who had saved Richard was the legendary Sword Saint of the Empire, Kal Oregon, left them both deeply shaken.

Upon hearing Oregon’s name, Richard’s face grew somber once more.

“I couldn’t return until I avenged my master. I’m sorry, Father.”

“Then, is it all settled now?”

“No.”

“Then why have you returned?”

The Count could tell that his son hadn’t come back just to see his family.

It was evident from his story alone that Richard had gone through unimaginable experiences.

And he knew his son wouldn’t have returned simply for the sake of family.

“Rupert.”

“Yes, brother?”

“I didn’t realize while I was away, but it seems you’ve become quite famous.”

Richard addressed Rupert, who looked a bit uncomfortable.

“I saw your manga.”

• Van Helsing. Just how do you know so much?

 

Richard finally revealed his true reason for returning home.

He wanted to understand why his brother Rupert seemed to be telling their own story in his manga, Van Helsing.

‘Is this truly the work of the Goddess?’

Rupert, meanwhile, had resigned himself to this moment.

From the beginning of Richard’s story, Rupert had felt an eerie sense of familiarity, growing stronger as he listened.

And as he pieced everything together, he couldn’t help but acknowledge it:

His manga Van Helsing, like Fullmetal Alchemist, had somehow intertwined with real events once again.