Dustin quietly reflected on memories of his mother as he bowed his head. With the identification of the instigator, Alaric, and the dissolution of Dragon Guard, only Reagan and Cinna remained. Once this remaining threat was eliminated, he would have avenged his mother.
“Mom… I really miss you!” Dustin whispered, gazing at the stone statue before him.
In his recollections, Rufus was always engrossed in state affairs, seldom returning home. It was Alba who worked tirelessly to raise him.
During his rebellious childhood, Dustin often perceived his mother as being too strict. He occasionally earned a few cane lashes for minor missteps. Now mature, he understood his mother’s well-intentioned discipline.
As the Crown Prince of West Lucozia, born with a silver spoon, he could have easily devolved into a pampered playboy without his mother’s guidance. She had nurtured him in martial arts, military strategy, medicine, and even some divine esoteric techniques. She not only gave him life, but also paved the way for his future.
Dustin sighed.
Grace let out a soft sigh as she watched the grief-stricken Dustin. She wisely chose to give him space. She understood that a mother and son needed time to converse after being reunited after many years.
An hour later, Dustin finished pouring his heart out. After taking three deep bows before his mother’s statue, he finally stood up. The sky had darkened, and only a few scattered figures roamed the vast cemetery. They were occasionally accompanied by mournful cries.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” he said, regaining composure as he walked over to Grace.
“No worries.”
She shook her head slightly.
“I’ve always admired your mother. Seeing her statue here is an honor for me.”
“It’s getting dark. Let’s find a place to stay.”
Dustin changed the subject.
“I’ve arranged that already with an old mansion to the west of the city. Our cover is that of siblings returning to their hometown. As long as we don’t draw too much attention, no one should suspect us,” Grace informed.
“Sounds good.”
He nodded.
Dustin was impressed by Grace’s efficiency. He admired her thorough consideration of every detail. As the two were preparing to leave the park, a mournful wail suddenly reached their ears.
“Dad! Why did you have to leave us so soon? If you hadn’t fallen on the battlefield and lost your life, our family wouldn’t have endured such disgrace after your death.”
“Dad! Those bullies not only crippled my leg, but also killed Mom and disgraced my sister. If you’re watching from above, punish those bastards!”
The cries were loud. They were filled with despair and resentment. Dustin and Grace exchanged glances, then approached the source.
In front of a general’s grave, a young man in his 20s kneeled, crying bitterly. He was covered in wounds. His left leg was already broken and wrapped in thick bandages, and he looked severely battered.
Dustin’s gaze lifted. As he looked at the tombstone in front of the young man, his eyes involuntarily narrowed.
