Chapter 36: Get to the Point!

Chapter 36: Get to the Point!

Late! Late! I'm late! Speaker Francois speed-walked through the royal palace corridors, hurrying toward the courtroom.

This morning, the nobility would decide whether or not to grant asylum to Lotus Whomalt's group, and while the hearing wouldn't start for another half hour, Francois—as Speaker of the House—was expected to be among the first to arrive.

As the head of a newly established noble House, Francois knew there were many eager to tear his family down. Some nobles hated seeing new blood in their circles, feeling it diluted the exclusivity they clung to so fiercely. There were many ambitious commoners lining up waiting for any chance to usurp a lesser house like his. And there were those, of course, who just couldn't stomach the rise of an "insignificant nobody" like Francois to a position of influence.

Because of this, Francois needed to be impeccable. Every slip-up, no matter how small, could be used against him to defame his house or diminish his standing. Punctuality, trivial as it sounded, was crucial here; in the rigid, rule-bound life of the nobility, where people lived by the book and with proverbial sticks up their asses, being late to court was scandalous—downright insulting. Tardiness by the Speaker, in particular, would be seen as a slap in the face to the entire nobility, not to mention the King and Kingdom, as if they were somehow beneath his attention.

And yet, practically speaking, he might have been safe—at least for today. Augustus, a master of bending rules and reality to his advantage, had developed a soft spot for the eight noble houses that had backed the previous bill, which included House Francois. Even if someone did call out Francois's late arrival, it wouldn't go anywhere; Augustus simply wouldn't let it. On top of that, Francois had the support of Conrad Leto, and the three royal houses agreed he was doing a commendable job as Speaker. Even Lux Kira and Sebastian's predecessor would have found it difficult to criticize him on much.

But Francois was a naturally timid man, riddled with insecurity and worry that his success could come crashing down at any moment. It was already a small miracle that a man of his temperament had been able to raise his family to noble status.

By the time he reached the courtroom doors, Francois was panting, sweat breaking across his brow. It wasn't just from the hurry; he'd been held up at home, after all, his eldest son Marx just had an episode that could've been fatal.

Marx had been practicing his memory magic when he slipped up—an error that could have left him a mentally hollow shell, bedridden and barely alive. If Francois hadn't been there to stabilize his son's mind and psyche, Marx would have been dead in all but body.

Francois bit his lip, his worry a heavy weight as he watched his son drift into unconsciousness. Marx will be fine, he reassured himself, knowing his father was keeping an eye on Marx's condition. But this was hardly the way Francois had hoped to start his day. Despite his role as Speaker, at the end of the day, he was a father—and what father wouldn't be shaken to the core by a scene like that?

Francois couldn't help blaming himself. Did I push him too hard? Marx was under immense pressure as the nominal heir of House Francois, expected to perfect his skills even before receiving his grimoire. If he failed to live up to that burden, their family's noble legacy would last just a single generation. So, Marx took it upon himself to train relentlessly, hoping to master and eventually surpass his father's spells. But grimoire magic is called grimoire magic for a reason; attempting it without one, especially with something as delicate as mind magic, was practically asking for disaster.

Francois shuddered, his stomach churning as he recalled the morning—the sight of his son collapsing, foaming at the mouth, his eyes unfocused, his spirit nearly slipping away forever. Gritting his teeth, Francois pushed the memory aside as he rounded a corner, closing in on the courtroom.

His son's near-death experience only solidified his resolve: Francois had to make sure their family remained a noble House. If anything were to happen to any of them in the future, they'd need the security, connections, and privileges of nobility to face it. That meant Francois had to be perfect—flawless in the eyes of his peers. I can't put all this on Marx, he told himself, I need to double my efforts so our House can rise to the upper levels of nobility. If he succeeded, Marx could finally relax, have a childhood, maybe even slack off a little.

After all, losing one's noble status wasn't a simple demotion. Ninety percent of the time, it was game over. There was an old saying: "He who rides the tiger is afraid of the dismount." Noble life was like that—when you're on top, life is full of privileges, perks, and benefits. But once you fall (kicked out of the noble circle), that tiger won't just ignore you. It'll pounce on you, clawing and gnashing until every last dreg of wealth and influence is gone, leaving nothing but bones.

Few noble houses that had fallen from grace ever managed to rise again. Even the once-great House Funnybunny wasn't immune, despite its eldest son becoming the 11th Wizard King. Nobles are most unforgiving—and most treacherous—to their own. It's a dog-eat-dog world, and there's no room for pups.

And House Francois was essentially still a pup. They lacked wealth worth bragging about, had no Magic Knights to their name, and struggled to form meaningful connections. Their upright attitude and rare magic alienated them from other noble houses. With 99% of Clover Kingdom nobility tangled in dark dealings, no one wanted the risk of tipping off someone like Francois. Most nobles could laugh off accusations as slander, but with Francois's memory magic, he was the evidence.

In another world, Francois's magic could have guaranteed himself a seat on the Magic Parliament. But back when Lux Kira controlled his house, he'd made sure that never happened—if Francois ever stumbled onto one of his secrets, it would have been game over for Lux, especially with his brother looking for any excuse to strip him of power.

But now that Damnatio was in charge, things might start to look up for House Francois. Damnatio greatly valued their magic and its potential to bring justice and judgment. And that was something Francois could leverage.

But Francois hadn't noticed any of this yet. Deep in thought, he was busy brainstorming ways to forge meaningful connections when he spotted a couple approaching the courtroom doors from the other end of the hallway, arms linked.

House Faust! Francois's gaze widened slightly as he recognized Draven and Lilith Faust. As they crossed paths halfway, a thought sparked in his mind. Looks like House Faust is trying to get back into the noble circle. They must need connections too—I doubt they'd turn down an alliance with me. Francois narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. And they rubbed a lot of houses the wrong way by supporting that last bill. Technically, we're already in the same camp; it only makes sense to band together.

He stepped forward and gave a polite wave, stopping just before them and offering a slight bow. "Lord Faust, Lady Faust, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance on this fine morning."

Draven and Lilith unlinked their arms, and while Draven returned the bow, Lilith offered a graceful curtsy. In unison, they replied, "As to you, Lord Francois." Though Francois held the title of Speaker, he only held authority during active sessions in the courtroom, so they addressed him more fittingly as "Lord."

Francois's smile warmed slightly as he reached out a hand for Draven. He wasn't about to rush his intentions; he had a hearing to preside over soon, and the nobility had unspoken rules about forming connections—these things took time, often cultivated over dinners and subtle conversations. "Lord Faust, I feel we're men of common interests. Would you do my House the honor of joining us for dinner tonight? I'd love to discuss a few things with you."

Draven met Francois's hand with a firm handshake, his smile broad and gruff. "I'd be delighted, Lord Francois."

Francois's smile grew as he turned to Lilith with a small chuckle. "Naturally, Lady Faust, this invitation extends to you and your children as well."

Lilith's smile softened, and she let out a gentle laugh, honey-sweet. "I'm not sure about Morgen and Nacht, but I'll certainly be there."

Francois responded with lighthearted banter. "I wouldn't dream of pressing it. Morgen's a busy man, after all. And, if the rumors are true, it seems Nacht has joined his brother in the Grey Deer?"

Lilith's smile deepened. "Yes, we owe Julius our gratitude for making an exception and letting Nacht in without the entrance exams."

Francois laughed wryly. "If Nacht is anything like his brother, those exams would just be a waste of time."

Lilith's smile turned thoughtful, tempted to add, What if I told you Nacht is stronger than Morgen? But she held her tongue and instead lifted her gloved right hand, offering it to Francois.

Francois bent forward slightly, taking her hand and pressing a light kiss to the back in polite formality. Unbeknownst to him, a colorless gas seeped into his body through his skin, his senses none the wiser. His eyes glazed momentarily but returned to normal as he released her hand and straightened.

Turning to the door, Francois opened the left panel and gestured for Draven and Lilith to enter first, his smile soft. "After you."

Draven and Lilith exchanged a sly look, which Francois missed entirely, and laughed together as they walked through the doorway. "Thank you!"

30 Minutes Later:

Francois struck his lectern with the mallet and declared, "You may all be seated."

Everyone took their seats in familiar positions from the previous proceedings. Nobles filled the circular auditorium, while representatives from the three royal houses sat at an oval table directly facing the throne, where Augustus presided. This time, however, an additional lectern stood diagonally to Augustus's left, where Lotus, Fanzell, Lana, and Dominante waited in plain view.

In adherence to courtroom decorum, the children were kept at the Magic Knight Headquarters under strict supervision—not imprisoned, but also not free to roam. Meanwhile, the quartet was dressed in neatly tailored suits and dresses provided by the kingdom. This was as much for their sake as it was for the dignity of the court; after all, any perceived lack of decorum could undermine their case.

Lotus and Fanzell, each in a one-piece black suit with hair neatly combed back and facial hair groomed, fought to hide their discomfort in the tight, formal clothing. They knew that the slightest hint of discontent could jeopardize their chances. Dominante and Lana, on the other hand, found the experience novel and relished the chance to dress up in clothes they'd never dreamed of affording. Although the court's atmosphere was daunting, Dominante and Lana were confident they'd be granted asylum—they had no hidden agendas, unlike Lotus and Fanzell, and they didn't consider the possibility of failure.

Lotus and Fanzell, on the other hand, were painfully aware of the stakes. They didn't know if Conrad or Damnatio would step in to vouch for them or if they were expected to prove their worth alone, a kind of test to earn their place. So they kept their faces neutral, striving to hide any hint of connection to Conrad or Damnatio, though it was difficult to avoid looking in Conrad's direction today.

Oddly, despite Lotus and Fanzell being the court's topic, most attention was fixed awkwardly on the Wizard King. Conrad stood to Augustus's right, upright and poised, as usual. However, his left eye was swollen black, a stark, unmissable bruise marring his otherwise dignified appearance.

Augustus had been furious upon noticing it, demanding to know who dared harm his "closest friend" and vowing to have them executed. Conrad had offered a calm, short bow and explained it as a "training incident."

Augustus, baffled, pressed further, asking why he hadn't gone to a healer. With magic, they could have erased the mark in moments. Conrad simply bowed again and replied that he wanted to "take the opportunity to humble himself." Which, actually, wasn't exactly a lie.

Augustus, confused but mollified, had praised him with vague words about everyone in court following Conrad's example. Those aware of the situation nodded stiffly in forced agreement until Augustus, finally satisfied, took his seat.

Lotus and Fanzell, interpreting from their own perspective, assumed that Conrad had fought a powerful foe and come away victorious yet humbled, perhaps leaving this visible bruise as a lesson to his "new subordinates" about even the strongest being vulnerable. The delusion was convenient; if they'd known the truth behind the bruise, they'd have likely lost all respect for their "supposed" master.

When Sebastian first saw Conrad, he was tempted to tease him, joking that he'd gotten beaten up by his own wife and was too worried about Lovilia's reaction to seek healing, choosing instead to let his eye heal naturally. But Sebastian held back, feeling it wasn't really his place to talk, especially as he was reminded of how Acier Silva treated his predecessor behind closed doors.

Reflecting on some of Acier's more intense interactions with his predecessor, Sebastian would occasionally look at himself in the mirror, contemplating. In their dynamic, who was truly the victim? Reliving those memories was like watching a painful reel, triggering a subtle tension in his muscles, as if recalling a trauma. The saintly image he had of Acier grew increasingly distorted each time he revisited those memories of her in the bedroom, actions she justified as "pure love."

Sebastian found himself tempted to label his predecessor a victim of domestic abuse and cast Acier as the instigator. But ultimately, he decided Acier was justified; after all, regardless of her eccentric approach, her intentions were grounded in love. His predecessor, on the other hand, loved her in a twisted way, often aiming to cause her both physical and emotional harm. Sebastian couldn't bring himself to feel much sympathy for him. All in all, Acier was, in Sebastian's eyes, "the lesser of two evils."

Francois coughed smoothly, redirecting the court's attention back to the proceedings. In a calm voice, he announced, "We will now call Lord Kaiser Granvorka to the stand to say his piece."

All eyes turned to the stout, curly-mustached Kaiser as he descended from the auditorium seats to the lectern. Francois politely stepped aside as Kaiser placed his hands on the lectern, cleared his throat, and began speaking in a measured tone.

"Two nights ago, Lotus Whomalt of the Diamond Kingdom arrived at Kiten's front gates with the three here today, along with fifteen children, aged from less than a year to five, all seeking asylum."

The audience shifted their attention from Kaiser to the quartet, who nodded slightly, their gulps almost audible.

After a brief pause, Kaiser continued, "We haven't been able to reach our spies in the Diamond Kingdom to verify their story, as the kingdom has unexpectedly gone on lockdown."

The nobles exchanged confused glances and whispered among themselves. Kaiser's next words only deepened their bewilderment. "In fact, this lockdown actually seems to support their alibi."

Ignatius, crossing his arms and growing impatient, called out powerfully, "And why would that be, Kaiser?"

Instead of answering, Kaiser turned to the quartet, focusing on Lotus before gesturing to him. "I believe it'll be more meaningful if those in question can present their case themselves."

Augustus, clearly bored and eager to return to his harem, intervened before anyone else could protest. Leaning back with a yawn, he tapped his staff on the marble floor, signaling his consent. "I'll allow it."

Lotus, after a reassuring nod from his wife, stiffly approached the lectern as Kaiser stepped aside to stand beside Francois.

Lotus wasn't entirely out of his depth in the courtroom; as an Adjutant General, his role was largely administrative. However, the Diamond Kingdom's war-driven era had kept him on the battlefield more than in the office, leaving him a bit rusty in formal oratory. Clearing his throat, he scanned the room, meeting many cold, indifferent gazes before beginning his well-practiced alibi—the one he had found on a slip of paper tucked in his grimoire satchel after parting ways with Blue Eagle in the mines.

"Before I explain what led us here, I think it's important to clarify why we deserted the Diamond Kingdom in the first place." Lotus carefully avoided calling Diamond "his" kingdom or "home," though the bitter aftertaste lingered.

Ignoring the unimpressed looks cast by many in the audience, he pressed on. "Around two years ago, the Diamond Kingdom began to stray from the traditional path of magic. They initiated a program to merge magic with science to artificially enhance warriors, amassing armies of such people to wage war on neighboring kingdoms."

The courtroom fell silent, and even Augustus seemed more attentive. Lotus continued, his expression darkening. "Practices that defy the natural order cannot exist without sacrifice. Many bloody sacrifices, in fact."

A hush settled as he grimly narrowed his eyes. "We have lost countless promising soldiers and friends to Diamond's ambitions. Those children we fled with—they were next in line. Fanzell and I spent a lot of time training them. We became attached. We couldn't just stand by and watch them become part of the kingdom's statistics."

Jeers and derisive laughter interrupted him. A few nobles sneered.

"Only Diamond would stoop so low!" one muttered, chuckling.

"Indeed. What can you expect from a nation of miners? Even the poorest peasants here live like kings compared to the average Diamond citizen!" added another, a lord hoping to curry favor with Augustus.

Fanzell clenched his fist, recalling Blue Eagle's words. He was right; they never took us seriously.

"Thanks to our kingdom's boundless generosity!" another noble declared.

"His Majesty's generosity—" Ledior Vaude began, only to stop as Augustus shot him a frosty glare.

Augustus sneered audibly, his voice laced with contempt. "Do you fools think I don't see through hollow praise?"

A collective tension settled over the room as eyebrows subtly twitched. Eyes briefly shifted toward the Silva patriarch, who, despite being momentarily the center of attention, sat with his eyes closed, unmoved. Nozel gave his father a side glance, admiringly. I'll have to learn Father's ability to be as thick-skinned as him. It'll help once I take over as Lord of House Silva.

It was clear to a few that, had anyone besides Ledior spoken, Augustus might've reacted differently. If Sebastian was one of Augustus's most cherished subjects, Ledior was at the opposite end of the spectrum. That Ledior hadn't yet faced execution or dismissal from the noble circle courtesy of Augutus was already a small miracle.

Lotus waited as the courtroom's attention refocused on him. His gaze drifted toward his companions, lingering on Lana. "And it's not only that," he added, his voice softening. "I'm a married man. The Diamond Kingdom has become a place where I no longer feel it's safe to raise a family."

Turning back to the audience, he got to the core of his point. "In truth, I've felt alienated from the Diamond Kingdom for some time now. I had begun planning a way out long ago, but... certain events accelerated that plan."

Conrad finally spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet. "I assume these 'events' are what you meant by what led you here?"

Lotus nodded respectfully at Conrad, an action no one found unusual. It was only natural to show deference to those whose aid one sought. However, in Lotus's mind, he was convinced that his "master" was guiding the conversation forward before anyone could interrupt. To Lotus, Master L's subtle cues were a signal that it was safe to mention the Secret Order—but to avoid anything that might expose Blue Eagle's party. He resolved to stick to the alibi Blue Eagle had suggested when briefing Morris.

Taking a deep breath, Lotus began, "Three days ago, under General Yagos's orders, Fanzell, myself, and eight other Mage Warriors attempted to enter Clover territory for a mission."

"Explain!" demanded Ignatius, his patience wearing thin.

Lotus nodded. "We had been alerted to the discovery of a new dungeon near the Forsaken Realm, close to neutral territory. Our mission was to explore it and retrieve any valuable items."

Conrad stiffened slightly and, keeping his tone measured, asked, "Would this dungeon happen to be near Galen Heights?"

Lotus nodded again. Conrad's unease grew; he clenched his fists slightly, imagining the risk his wife and her squad had been exposed to if something had gone wrong.

Looking at the expectant crowd, Conrad took a moment to gather himself and then spoke. "I can verify the presence of such a dungeon. My wife's squad, the White Serpent, personally explored it."

After a brief, awkward silence, the nobles nodded. Those in the know glanced curiously at Conrad's bruised face, causing a slight twitch in his brow.

Conrad continued, "However, the White Serpent never reported the presence of other personnel in the dungeon." His statement made everyone turn suspicious eyes to Lotus.

"If you want us to believe that your team didn't encounter ours, or that your group somehow reached this dungeon in our territory before the White Serpent without leaving any trace, you must take us for fools!"

Nobles and royals alike nodded, glaring at Lotus with barely concealed disdain, the word "liar" practically spelled out in their expressions.

Lotus studied Conrad's reaction and thought, It seems even the boss can't help us directly, or it would look suspicious. In the end, we're on our own.

Taking a measured breath, Lotus clarified, "The truth is, we never reached the dungeon. We didn't make it past Galen Heights!"

The crowd's eyes narrowed further as he continued, "We were ambushed."

Everyone exchanged puzzled looks as Conrad raised an eyebrow. "By whom?"

"Three individuals," Lotus replied. "They called themselves members of a 'Secret Order.' They wore identical black suits and carried coverless, pitch-black grimoires. The only differences among them were their masks and genders. One was a man who called himself 'Black King,' with a magic that allowed him to alter his body's shape. Another was 'Blue Fly,' a man who could produce bones with magic. Finally, a woman named 'Red Ram,' whom I believe used blood magic."

Julius's left eye flickered with a purple haze.

The nobles' reactions were mixed—most had never heard of such figures, though a few perked up, recognizing the attire and casting curious glances at Sebastian and Damnatio. To their surprise, the usually composed Sebastian and Damnatio sat up straighter, snapping their gaze to Lotus with visibly dilated pupils.

Lotus and Fanzell blinked, thinking, Green Owl's acting skills are impeccable. He even anticipated and mirrored Sebastian Silva's reaction—only to be expected from someone with a secret identity.

As all eyes focused on Sebastian and Damnatio, Augustus broke the silence, speaking up in Conrad's stead. "Advisor. Damnatio. Is there anything you two wish to share?" He paused, then added thoughtfully, "Neither of you is obligated to speak if you'd prefer not to."

Lotus exhaled deeply, tension easing from his shoulders.

Speaker Francois' grimoire floated in front of him, flipping through pages before stopping abruptly. Raising his hand, he cast his spell.

"Memory Communication Magic: Mémoire Absolue!"

A spiked dome of aqua-blue light sprung up around Lotus, connecting to five similar planes before converging into a glowing sphere above his head.

Lotus immediately grew stiff and mechanical, his expression blank and distant. Few noticed that Francois' eyes also glazed over—subtly and to a much lesser degree—once the spell took hold.

After a brief moment, Francois' calm voice echoed through the chamber. "Was everything you told us the truth?"

Everyone leaned forward, their anticipation palpable, as Lotus responded in a robotic monotone. "Yes."

A collective sigh of relief spread through the room—everyone except Fanzell, whose pupils shrank. Is Speaker Francois also part of the Secret Order?!

All eyes shifted to the sphere above Lotus. It began to play quick flashes of his memories, depicting the events he had described earlier. Nothing contradicted his account, and the visuals were clear and precise.

Nozel remained calm outwardly, but his mind churned violently. His heart nearly stopped when the image of Red Ram appeared. It's her!

A storm of emotions swirled within him as he fought the urge to shout. Though the memories revealed only one grimoire and no overt use of cursed magic, that blood-red claw was unmistakable. He would never forget it.

Nozel's gaze darted toward his father, catching the subtle narrowing of Sebastian's eyes as Red Ram's figure flickered in the sphere.

So that's why their alibi seemed so impossible to me before, Nozel thought. Blood magic couldn't control minds like that—but if it's her, and she's using curses, it all adds up!

The sphere continued projecting Lotus' memories like a film reel, ending with his group's arrival at Kiten's gates. The magic dome dissipated, and Lotus blinked as he returned to his senses.

Francois turned to face Augustus and Conrad, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, Lord Conrad, as you've seen, everything Lotus Whomalt has said checks out."

The two men exchanged a glance before nodding in agreement. Conrad gestured for Lotus to step down, and the man complied with a visible sigh of relief.

Returning to his group, Lotus was immediately pulled into a brief embrace by Lana, who offered him a slight, approving nod. Fanzell, however, met Lotus' gaze with a look that carried an unspoken question—one that Lotus acknowledged with a subtle, knowing glance.

As murmurs rippled through the court, Francois slammed his mallet against the lectern. "Order in the court!"

The chamber quieted as everyone composed themselves. Satisfied, Francois gave a small nod. "We will now proceed to the vote on whether Lotus Whomalt and his group shall be granted asylum in our kingdom." He paused briefly, clearing his throat. "We'll begin with the noble vote. All in favor, raise—"

"Wait!"

Augustus' scepter struck the floor with a resounding crack, drawing all eyes to him. Before anyone could voice their confusion, he raised a hand to silence them. "Stop wasting time with that pointless nonsense. Skip straight to the real vote and let's finish this already!"

My harem is waiting. Move it along, people.

The nobles exchanged awkward glances, their faces betraying a mix of irritation and resignation. They were visibly displeased with Augustus dismissing their input as meaningless, but none dared speak up. The truth was undeniable—most of the time, their opinions were irrelevant.

Ninety percent of decisions rested solely with the Five Pillars unless they were deadlocked. The noble vote was little more than a formality, a token gesture to give the nobility a sense of influence and preserve the illusion of power.

Still, they couldn't afford to offend Augustus further. Most of them had already fallen out of favor and were eager to climb back into his good graces. So, when Francois cast them a pointed glance, they forced tight smiles and nodded along.

Francois cleared his throat, rapping the lectern once more. "Very well. We'll move to the Five Pillars' vote. All in favor—"

Before he could finish, Augustus, Conrad, Ignatius, Sebastian, and Damnatio simultaneously raised their hands.

Francois blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before striking the lectern with his mallet again. "By unanimous agreement of the Five Pillars, the motion to grant asylum to Lotus Whomalt's group is approved. Court is adjourned."

"Splendid."

Augustus wasted no time, turning on his heel and striding out of the chamber. His squires, guards, and attendants scrambled to keep pace with him.

The embarrassed nobles, still reeling from their dismissal, quickly scurried after him, eager to leave the awkward atmosphere behind. The remaining royals followed soon after, their exit leaving the room eerily quiet in a matter of moments.

Now, only six remained: Conrad, Francois, Lotus, Fanzell, Lana, and Dominante.

The quartet blinked, exchanging bewildered looks with one another before glancing at Conrad and Francois. Their expressions spoke volumes: That's it? All that build-up for... this?

Francois scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact, while Conrad hesitated before offering an awkward smile. "...Congratulations?"

In the days that followed, Diamond Kingdom spies within the Clover Kingdom would report back: Lotus Whomalt, Fanzell, and their group have successfully defected.

The response from Diamond was as baffling as it was dismissive: Who are these people?

Silva Estate:

Nozel and his father walked side by side through the main estate, their footsteps echoing softly against the marble floors as they approached Acier's bedroom.

Sebastian, catching the glances his son kept throwing his way, spoke in a calm, measured tone. "Nozel, if you have something to say, just say it. You don't need to hold back in my presence."

Nozel hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice to a whisper. "Father... Red Ram. She was her, wasn't she?"

Sebastian nodded, his expression unreadable as they reached the staircase and began ascending. "I believe so."

Noticing the conflict in his son's eyes, Sebastian softened his tone. "But let's not dwell on it for now. Whatever she's planning, it doesn't change our course. When the time is right and we're strong enough, we'll repay her for everything she's done to our family."

Nozel nodded slowly, his fists clenching and relaxing as they climbed to the second floor. Once they reached the hallway, he spoke again. "Father?"

"Hmm?" Sebastian glanced at his son, maintaining their even stride.

"Why did you confess to the Haze Mask incident? His Majesty practically handed you a way out." Nozel's voice carried a mix of curiosity and disbelief. He couldn't piece together what his father was plotting.

Sebastian came to a sudden stop, prompting Nozel to do the same. Locking eyes with his son, Sebastian's voice was steady. "Nozel, would you believe me if I told you I didn't have a scheme this time?"

Nozel raised a skeptical brow but remained silent, studying his father's face.

Sebastian sighed softly. "I've caused pain, not just to our family but to many others. I'm trying to atone in the only way I know how—by using my power to pass reforms, like that bill, and make this kingdom a better place."

Nozel's gaze remained fixed on him, searching for even the faintest trace of deceit.

Sebastian continued, his tone earnest. "You saw firsthand how much skepticism and mistrust I faced supporting that bill just days ago. With my reputation and past actions, it's only natural that people assume I have ulterior motives, even when I'm trying to do good. The only way forward is to own up to my sins and hope they'll give me a chance to prove myself worthy of trust."

Not burying my past entirely, he mused silently, but at least loosening its grip enough that it doesn't overshadow everything I do now.

He wasn't lying. This time, there wasn't some grand scheme in motion—at least not in the way Nozel might think. Sebastian had decided to take control of the narrative surrounding him.

The truth was, Sebastian planned to play a much larger role in the kingdom's affairs than his nearly nonexistent presence in the original Black Clover storyline. Back then, he was little more than a silhouette on a family tree. But making big moves now would inevitably draw attention—attention that would dredge up his, or rather his predecessor's, sins.

If people were going to use his past against him, then it was better to open the floodgates himself and deal with the fallout on his terms.

He envisioned the future clearly: a reputation so transformed that when his enemies tried to weaponize his history, they'd be the ones on the defensive.

He smirked internally. One day, when someone says, "But Sebastian Silva was a cold-hearted, scheming, classist bastard," others will shoot back with, "That may have been true, but today he's the backbone of our kingdom!"

And when someone inevitably brought up his bloodstained hands?

"Murder? What murder? Sebastian Silva's the best man around!"

...Well, maybe not the best.

Shaking himself free of his daydream, Sebastian returned his focus to Nozel, adding with a faint smile, "Alright, I'll admit, I still have ulterior motives. But this time, they won't harm any innocents."

Sebastian turned his focus back to Nozel, waiting patiently for his son's response.

He raised an eyebrow as Nozel lowered his head in quiet contemplation, then turned and began walking away.

Watching his son's retreating figure, Sebastian followed. Nozel's voice, soft and steady, reached him without the young man looking back. "I'm proud of you... Father."

Sebastian's eyes widened slightly, a rare warmth spreading through his chest. It was a foreign yet comforting feeling, stirring something deep within him.

Falling into step beside his son, Sebastian reached out and ruffled Nozel's hair.

Nozel stiffened at the unexpected gesture but didn't protest, instead lowering his head with a faint smile.

If Father is serious about not just making things right with us, but with so many others... how could I feel anything but pride?

As the father and son turned into Acier's private wing, they were met with an unusual sight. Alfred, Jeeves, and Hilda stood stiffly outside Acier's room, their postures tense.

Sebastian and Nozel exchanged glances before approaching the trio. As they drew near, the butlers greeted them with a synchronized bow while Hilda curtsied deeply.

"Greetings, Master. Greetings, Young Master," they said in flawless unison.

Sebastian gave a curt nod in acknowledgment and reached for the door, but Alfred's voice stopped him.

"Master."

Sebastian paused, looking over his shoulder. "Yes, Alfred?"

The butler bowed slightly. "My Lord, though it is not my place, I recommend you don't enter right now."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, shifting to Jeeves and Hilda, who nodded faintly in agreement.

Glancing at his confused son, Sebastian raised a questioning brow at Alfred. "But it's fine for Nozel to go in?"

"I believe so, Master," Alfred replied without lifting his gaze.

Sebastian inhaled deeply, his tone cool as ice. "You're right, Alfred. It isn't your place to say so." Without another word, he pushed the door open and stepped inside with Nozel, closing it softly behind them.

An awkward silence immediately blanketed the room.

Sebastian's sharp gaze swept across the space, quickly taking in its occupants. On the far side, Dorothy sat stiffly beside Acier, who was propped up on her bed. Acier gave Sebastian a weak smile, to which he responded with a curt nod before turning his attention elsewhere.

Aurelia sat to the side, just as she had on the day Sebastian first transmigrated. Little Mimosa was perched on her lap. Aurelia's glare was as icy as ever, but Sebastian ignored it, instead observing his biological children—and who they were with.

Solid and Nebra stood on opposite sides of an older woman seated in a chair. The woman held Noelle on her lap, her frail hands carefully turning the pages of a picture book that the youngest Silva eagerly fidgeted with. Noelle hadn't yet noticed her father and brother's arrival.

Sebastian's eyes lingered on the older woman. Her resemblance to Acier and Aurelia was unmistakable—the same silver-white hair, clean and well-kept, and piercing pink eyes that matched Aurelia's and Noelle's. Though her face bore deep wrinkles, her refined features hinted at the beauty she must have been in her youth.

Solid and Nebra exchanged awkward looks with their father as the old woman raised her gaze, locking eyes with Sebastian. Her expression was as cold as her voice when she finally spoke.

"Sebastian."

Sebastian matched her icy look, his tone indifferent as he gave her a slight nod. "Mother." [1]

Author's Notes:

[1] Noelle's grandmother is a real character, that although never appeared on screen, was briefly mentioned I believe twice. Once in the manga at the beginning of Ch 69, and in I believe the first Black Clover LN, if I'm not wrong.

For those of you wondering what took her so long to appear till now, you'll find out in the next Chapter

[2] The canon timeline Omake will continue in a separate work called Reborn As Papa Silva (Alternative)

[3] This Chapter took me so long, the longest Chapter I've ever written so I'm too tired to write an omake. Originally it was going to be about how Conrad reunited with his wife and got the black eye, so if anyone is feeling creative they can write it for me, and send it to me, and I'll add it in.

[4] Let's just report it once more for everyone's sake. My exams end Dec 9th, till then the update schedule for the main story (this one) will be sloppy.

[5] As always feel free to join the discord at: /invite/s3MME8X8a