While it's been some years, Regis remembers every agonizing moment that he spent by Noctis' beside. It was a nightmare, an absolute nightmare. When news of the attack reached the Citadel, Regis acted quickly to meet with the royal caravan on the outskirts of Lucis. There he slew the Marilith, the Empire's latest diabolical creation, only to find his dear son gravely injured in a pool of blood. He was distraught during the whole ordeal. It was a nightmare for Regis, one that helped fuel his undying hatred for Niflheim. However, who would've guessed that a mere charm would've roused his injured son out of his long slumber. It was a miracle.

"It does make sense," Regis mutters as he affectionately scratches behind Carbuncle's ears. "I can think of no worthier companion for you." A chuckle escapes him once Noctis mentions Quetzalcoatl's penchant for mischief. The little dragon curled around his shoulders lets out a very audible huff. Regis could feel the slight sting of static but it doesn't hurt.

"I'm sure my new friend will come around sooner than later." He states as he gives the dragon a glance. The familiar gives him a slow blink before deciding to rest its eyes for now. It seems Quetzalcoatl wants no part of this conversation.

"You want to become a combat instructor?" Regis questions with a hint of surprise in his tone. "Goodness, Gladiolus is a miracle-worker! I never thought I would see the day that my dear son would take such an initiative." He teases before gently patting Noct on the shoulder.

"All jokes aside, I think this a worthwhile endeavor." As one would expect, Noctis has his father's full support.