Early spring, Dragon King Calendar year 422.
The biting chill had yet to fully retreat from the northern lands of the Central Continent, but a faintly damp spring breeze had already slipped into every corner of Sharia in the Magic Principality.
The seasons here were indistinct. Only spring, autumn, and winter took turns, and even at the height of summer, the temperature came nowhere near the heat of the southern Fittoa Territory. Instead, it felt more like a mild, fleeting autumn.
Three months had quietly passed since the grand wedding banquet.
For Cui Ciyou, those ninety-odd days and nights felt like the most peaceful, comfortable stretch of time he had enjoyed in years.
There were no more imminent threats to his life, nor any desperate searches that sent him wandering from place to place.
There was only waking from a deep sleep each morning to the warm, steady breathing of the woman beside him, the faint fragrance of her hair lingering beneath his nose. There was only sitting with his beloved wives in the courtyard on lazy afternoons, basking in gentle sunlight and enjoying the afternoon tea carefully prepared by the maids, watching the flowers bloom and fade and the clouds drift across the sky.
That peace felt like a lifetime removed from everything before it.
After the bustle of the wedding died down, Sauros, Philip and his wife, and the members of the Relief Corps did not stay long.
Fittoa's post-disaster reconstruction kept them busy, and the Relief Corps had plenty of matters to handle as well, so they left first.
Roxy's parents, Rowin and Rokari, however, did not immediately return to the distant Demon Continent.
For this unassuming Migurd couple, it was their first reunion with their beloved daughter Roxy in more than twenty years.
They chose to