Lone: The Wanderer Rewrite

A month later, at the White Dragonkin Clan's Peak Cave Palace, Gilbert was sat on his knees nervously as he waited. It was only natural. It had been over two centuries since he'd returned to or even so much as spoke to his family.

He'd left on less than favourable terms and he'd said some very hurtful things, none of which he regretted considering the type of people the average clan member was.

Regardless, Gilbert had arrived a week ago and no one had greeted him despite the fact he had sent word ahead that he was accepting one of their many requests for him to return. Petty bastards, one and all. They had summoned him here countless times, and now that he decided to finally answer one such summons, they thought it fitting to ignore him at the gates?

It was his grand uncle leaving that finally prompted the stooges at the gate to hear him out and let him in. If he wasn't a direct member of the primary lineage, then he was certain he'd have been killed for thinking himself worthy enough to return. Zealots of a cult were just like that, Gilbert reasoned.

Things only got worse when he made it clear he only wanted to talk with his great-grandfather. One did not simply leave the clan for centuries, change one's name, fall under the protection of another Divine, and then expect to come home and have a friendly chat with the Divine who ruled the entire clan, even if one did possess the same direct bloodline as said Divine.

'My legs are getting numb. How much longer are they going to make me sit here like a child, just feeding me Hunger Abating Balls and Sleep Negation Potions?' Gilbert was dreading the amount of work he'd have to do when he returned to the guild in the Crimson Foxkin Clan. That terrified him much more than the prospect of meeting his great-grandfather.

'It's been four days since they put me in this room. He isn't that busy. The bastard just wants to punish me. So petty. So very, very, petty.' Churlish as it was, Gilbert would endure. He had to for Lone, Sofia, Breena, and Kyuubi's sakes.

Suddenly, a crisp sound rang out in the room as the door swung open powerfully. Gilbert glanced towards his guest and sighed mentally. 'Of course it would be Mother. At least it isn't Father. I wouldn't be able to stomach talking to that bastard after what he did.'

"What a heartfelt surprise," Snow Shimmerscales scoffed. "Your father and I were certain you would flee with your tail tucked between your legs like you did last time if we left you here for a bit, making you wonder how we would punish your heresy. Perhaps you'd steal another invaluable object again as you did last time-"

"I did not steal the Djinn's wishes! They were a gift left to me by Uncle Arden!" Gilbert protested, earning him a very powerful stare from his X-ranked mother.

"... And you believe that but the clan does not trust a single letter left by a fellow deserter of the clan. Why would Father-in-law leave the remaining two wishes in the hands of such an incompetent man only for that man to then leave them to another clan deserter? No. You think that fool left you the wishes, the clan begs to differ," his mother snorted. "And the clan is always right."

"Except when it's wrong," Gilbert muttered. "Am I allowed to see Great-grandfather, or was it decided that my reward for waiting patiently was to be berated by the woman who was so kind as to bring me into this world?"

She approached the still seated Gilbert and placed his chin in her hand before she focused intently on the scar over his eye. "It was reported this was removed, and by a backwater two-bit mage, no less. You really should have allowed the clan to teach you magic. Maybe then you wouldn't have been left in such a sorry state in the middle of nowhere." She let go of him and took stock of the grey coloration in his sets of horns, his tail, and his eyes. "And to awaken... What a failure."

'I'm a failure, sure, and you're dragon worshipping scum that do the unspeakable without question just for a fraction of pointless power,' Gilbert thought in the privacy of his own mind. "I'll be taking my leave if that's all you have to say. I wished to talk to the head of the clan, not one of his lackeys."

Snow Shimmerscales looked genuinely offended by that remark. "Why you little..." She took a deep breath. "Follow me. He has decided to entertain you. Why, I'll never know."

'Because he has intelligence and you don't, still dragon worshipping scum one and all, though,' Gilbert remarked in thought. "Then lead the way, Snow."

There was coldness in his mother's eyes, a special kind he'd never seen before. To be fair, Gilbert had never addressed her by just her first name before. "Follow and be quiet."

'Now I'm starting to worry Lone's infected me. I better not act out in front of Great-grandfather. I need his help, not to justify my emotions and thoughts on how the clan operates, but that's only if they hear me out. Otherwise, it's plan hard and strong,' Gilbert reminded himself. 'One of these days I really need to find some time to learn Meditation.'

With his head pressed to the marble floor of the throne room of grandest cave palace in the clan's territory, Gilbert struggled to breathe.

'The boy would love this. A chance for him to earn Divine Pressure Resistance would never be passed up, would it? Meanwhile, I'm here, not earning any skills, being forced to look at painted floor tiles by a bitter old man,' he sighed internally.

He was willing to bet an entire ruby-gold coin that his mother and father as well as any other family members present were smirking at his sorry state in glee.

"Your mana organs are fully repaired," the powerful yet calm voice of his great-grandfather stated in confusion. "How? I know of no skill that can reverse damage to one's magical centres, be it racial, bloodline, world, unique, soul, astral, demonic, or any other skill type. Did you waste a wish on this? Just to repair something that can be compensated for via countless other methods?"

Gilbert felt the pressure, while not disappearing, diminish substantially to the point it only felt like he was being assaulted by an SSS-ranker's aura. It still hurt to breathe and moving was a challenge, but he raised his body and stared at his great-grandfather, taking in his features for the first time in centuries.

The man was massive, being easily three times the size of Gilbert and a few feet taller. Were anyone else to sit upon his White Dragon skull throne, they would look pathetically small.

He had shoulder-length curly white hair and atop his head sat eight sets of horns, each half a metre long, and unlike Gilbert, his great-grandfather's beastkin features were unmarred by a Primal.

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His face was stoic, making it easy to see just how handsome and angular it was under his perfectly cut beard which was only a few centimetres thick.

He, as the patriarch and ruler of the White Dragonkin Clan, was the only person with permission to don armour made exclusively of White Dragon bones. Gilbert had never seen the man wearing anything but a full suit of the stuff, and today was no exception.

At the man's left stood three XXX-rankers; Gilbert's two great-aunt, and one of his great-uncles. To their right stood the rest of the main family, including Gilbert's mother, father, three of his siblings, and one of his nephews.

"Well?" his great-grandfather pressed. "Answer me, boy. Now is not the time to be eyeing your relatives."

"... I have a request, Great-grandfather. Please listen to it and I will then answer any questions you have," Gilbert responded.

He had already kissed death once, so what was the harm in doing so again? He had a purpose in coming to the clan, and that purpose most certainly was not to answer any meaningless questions.

He had to show some level of boldness here or he'd just be laughed out of the clan, or perhaps even worse, held here forcefully against his will. The guild wouldn't even be able to extradite him since it would be considered a family affair.

His father stepped forward, a powerful scowl on his face. He raised his hand and it grew and morphed into the shape of a White Dragon's claw. With a powerful sweep, he smacked his arm into Gilbert's side, sending him flying into the throne room's wall. As only an SS-ranker, Gilbert was powerless to resist his XX-ranked father's attack.

"How dare you be so presumptuous in the face of Grandfather! The gall! We could ignore you not agreeing with our faith in the great White Dragons, and we could excuse you stealing the two remaining Djinn's wishes as you departed. You are family, after all, but you will respect your great-grandfather above all else! Am I understood, child?!" his father boomed, not daring to put any actual power into his voice since he was far from the strongest person present.

Gilbert coughed up a mouthful of blood. He closed his eyes as he struggled to get to his feet. "Origin Restoration."

Under all of the pain, he was smiling. 'Plan A's a bust, but plan B worked a treat. I'm glad to see you're just as rotten as I recall, Father. Never change. Never give me a reason to forgive you, please.'

The pain dulled quickly as his internal organs began repairing themselves, his snapped bones began setting themselves, and his condition stabilising overall. It would take days or maybe even a week or longer for him to fully recover from this casual attack that didn't even have applied stats behind it.

"Shall I take that attack as the clan's position? War with The Adventurer's Guild? I've shared some very emotional words with Grand Guildmaster Sarah about my 'family' and I'm sure she'll be glad to have a reason to wipe it off of the face of Altros," Gilbert threatened. "Who do you think would win in a clash, Great-grandfather? You, or the strongest Divine on the continent with as many gem-plated guild groups as she thinks is needed to eliminate you all? Even with all of your lackeys and a few of your false gods protecting you, she wouldn't even need to break a sweat, I'd like to think."

His father's face twisted in rage and he moved to attack Gilbert again but he was stopped by an aura so overwhelming that even thought he wasn't its target, Gilbert felt his whole world turn white.

"Attacking a guildmaster of The Adventurer's Guild unprompted and for personal reasons is a very serious offense," Divine Dragonsworn stated coldly and with a underlying fury. "Meldon Shimmerscales, I sentence you to 100 years of solitary confinement, and you are to sever the arm used in the attack and gift it to Guildmaster Elksworth here as recompense for the offense."

'Just as I expected. Still, 'Elksworth', huh? So he's finally accepted that I'm no longer a part of this family? I suppose all I needed to do was use the name of a stronger Divine to scare him. What a coward. No wonder he hasn't grown stronger is millenia,' Gilbert thought. 'And no wonder he so happily spread the legs of the clan for those monsters to fuck it so royally.'

As soon as the aura receded a bit and Gilbert could see again, he was greeted by the sight of his father wearing a stone-cold expression as he brought his left hand up and used it to cut off his right arm off from the shoulder. It was still in its dragonic form, so it made a heavy thud as it slapped onto the floor.

There was a certain kind of pain in Meldon's eyes as he looked at Gilbert.

'You do not get to look at me like that. Not after everything you and the rest of this family have done. You feel like you've lost a son today? How do you think I felt when I lost a father centuries ago? Or when I lost a sister? You betrayed yourselves when you bowed down to those vile creatures. To think you'd consider me using you all a betrayal. Laughable,' Gilbert snorted privately.

With a final look pointed at his direction, Meldon Shimmerscales held his bleeding stump and slowly exited the throne room, no doubt to put himself into solitary confinement.

"I will not mention what just occurred to Divine Persistence if you listen to my request. It even relates to your question, which was no doubt asked in the hopes that whatever healed my mana organs could also be applied to your own permanent injuries, no, Divine Dragonsworn?" That comment earned his a lot of glares, the one from his mother being the most potent of the lot.

His great-grandfather's brow furrowed. "Speak."

"I'll be frank. Some people very dear to me have tricked an Arch Devil, binding it into an unbreakable contract. One of them knows the thing's true name, thus, it desperately wants to kill him. We suspect it will employ the services of an Emperor Devil or an Omni Devil to do so. I want you to personally guard these people until they can kill this Arch Devil or until ten years have passed. Whichever comes first. You are to take their protection as seriously as you possibly can," Gilbert stated his request.

One of his XXX-ranked aunts replied, "What nonsense. You believe that to be true, and even if it is, we would need all the clan's resources to defeat an Emperor Devil. Were it to be an Omni Devil that attacked instead, it would be wiser to write off the surrounding 100 miles as a new forbidden zone."

Divine Dragonsworn raised a hand to silence her. "Sister, your concerns are well founded, but your knowledge on demonic law is lacking. There are heavy restrictions placed upon those beyond our realm when they deign to grace it with their presence. I would still be no match for an Emperor Devil, but I could escape one, provided it does not bind me in a deal of some sort first."

Gilbert saw that as a good point to chime in. "And would it not be more than possible to fight off an Omni Devil and even an army of Arch Devils if you asked for help from the White Dragons whom you love so dearly?"

"You need not hide your bitterness. You are no longer a member of the clan so I no longer expect you to understand our ways. You have made your allegiances painfully clear. Now, tell me, why would I consider this request? What would I stand to gain? Be specific, Guildmaster," the massive White Dragonkin demanded.

If he thought that would hurt Gilbert's feelings, he would be sorely mistaken. His identity as a guildmaster of The Adventurer's Guild was something he held significant pride over.

"The one you would protect is the one who restored my eye and healed my mana organs. I know of no one with as much healing potential as this person on the entire continent. Even my nature magic master pales in comparison. Should that not be enough, I expect the chance to show the clans the correctness of your own switch in allegiances to be of considerable value," Gilbert tempted.

Divine Dragonsworn sat in silent thought for a moment before he suddenly stood up. "Sister Orelia, Brother Timos, you shall accompany me. Before any decision is made, I would meet these people first that the guildmaster speaks of. I must verify his claims in person. Sister Daniella, I leave the clan in your hands during my absence, be it for a month or two, or much longer should the need arise."

Gilbert mentally sighed in relief. 'I'm glad that worked. It is unfortunately I had to burn whatever bridges I had left with the clan, but with him agreeing to meet Lone, it's all but guaranteed he'll help him fight off Arch Devil Zel. Your selfishness killed my baby sister, Great-grandfather. I will never accept your ways and I will not so callously allow the people I care about to die just because those with greater power than my own demand it. If that means using those I once considered to be family, then so be it.'