Chapter 41: Fear

Chapter 41: Fear

Diamond Kingdom Throne Room

Edelstein reclined on his expansive throne, his presence as imposing as the towering chair itself. To his left stood the remaining six Shining Generals, their postures rigid, faces betraying faint traces of unease. Across from them stood a handful of Edelstein's most prized and competent subordinates, their expressions strained. Kneeling directly before him, shrouded in hooded cloaks, were four indistinct mage warriors, their auras subdued, as if unwilling to draw any more attention than necessary.

The atmosphere was suffocating, tension thick enough to slice through. A careful observer would catch the sheen of cold sweat on brows and the barely concealed fear lurking in every gaze. Over the past two days, the Diamond Kingdom's top brass had been paralyzed—not by the unknown, but by the incomprehensible.

It all began two days ago when Morris, the disgraced mad scientist, was captured and subjected to brutal interrogation. The aim was simple: extract the truth about his 2 year-long schemes and the whereabouts of the missing lab equipment. But instead of owning up to his sins, Morris kept deflecting blame to two individuals: Adjutant General Lotus Whomalt and Lieutenant Fanzell Kruger.

The problem? No one had ever heard of these names before.

Edelstein was livid. To him, this was yet another attempt by Morris to mock their intelligence, refusing to accept responsibility even under the most excruciating torture. The interrogators, hardened by years of grim duties, found themselves unnerved by the scientist's resilience—or madness. Morris wouldn't relent, repeating over and over that Lotus and Fanzell were the true culprits.

Could he actually be telling the truth? The thought was tempting, but it made no sense. No one in the entire kingdom—not the nobles, not the soldiers, not the miners at the lowest rungs of society—had any recollection of these figures. They questioned everyone they could, pulled records from every corner of the kingdom, and yet every answer was the same: "Who?"

Even the kingdom's oldest surveillance footage, painstakingly recorded using magic systems Morris himself had pioneered, turned up nothing. No sign of Lotus. No sign of Fanzell. Frustration mounted as Morris continued his unhinged rambling, dragging more obscure names into the fray. He spoke of Lotus's supposed wife, Lana, a witch named Dominante Code—a claim so absurd it was laughable. After all, a witch from the Witch's Forest living in the Diamond Kingdom would be impossible to miss.

Then there were the supposed missing children from an abandoned space labeled Block C. By now, the council had dismissed Morris as either utterly insane or treating them like fools. The prevailing theory was that he'd fabricated a wild conspiracy, planting vague evidence to throw them off his trail, though his failure to create believable "suspects" only made them angrier.

All this had occurred within hours of Morris's arrest. Edelstein, tempted to escalate the torture further, hesitated. His rage demanded blood, but something didn't sit right.

Then, the evidence began to surface.

First, the citizenship records. Clear, undeniable documentation listed Lotus, Lana, Fanzell, and Dominante as legitimate citizens of the Diamond Kingdom. Lotus was described as a highly capable officer who had risen to the rank of Adjutant General. Lana was noted as his wife. Fanzell was marked as a promising soldier, destined for command. And Dominante? A celebrated magic tool artisan.

Addresses listed in these records led to real dwellings. When soldiers stormed these homes, they found undeniable evidence of occupancy—personal belongings, household items, even framed photographs that perfectly matched the descriptions in the files.

It didn't stop there. Across the kingdom, they unearthed high-quality magic tools bearing a creator's mark unmistakably tied to Dominante. The craftsmanship was exquisite, leaving no doubt about its origin.

The top brass felt as though they were losing their minds. How could these people exist on paper but be entirely erased from memory? Not a single soul in the Diamond Kingdom could recall them, yet the evidence was overwhelming, staring them in the face.

And so, the Diamond Kingdom teetered on the edge of reason, gripped by a mystery that refused to unravel.

They felt a chill crawl up their spines, as if haunted by ghosts no one could see. And then, to make matters worse, word arrived this morning: the mysterious quartet—along with the children Morris had mentioned—had escaped and been granted asylum in the Clover Kingdom.

It sounded absurd, like some cruel joke or the plot of a child's prank, but the implications were impossible to ignore. This had to be the truth. These people existed. The alternative was even more ridiculous: Clover conspiring to fabricate entire lives, planting intricate evidence, and somehow corrupting all their spies in the kingdom to play along.

To dig deeper, the Diamond Kingdom had reluctantly turned to the Heart Kingdom for answers. The price for their assistance had been steep—more than Edelstein wanted to part with—but their desperation left them no choice. And sure enough, Heart's recollections aligned disturbingly well with the Diamond Kingdom's records.

Heart Kingdom officials affirmed that Lotus Whomalt and Fanzell Kruger had been involved in several skirmishes on the battlefield, their accounts matching Diamond's records perfectly. As for Lana and Dominante Code? Heart knew nothing of them, which made sense. Lana was just a housewife, and Dominante's fame had barely begun spreading outside Diamond. Still, it was cold comfort—if Heart had known of Lana or Dominante, it would have confirmed their infiltration into Diamond's ranks.

The truth was undeniable now, unless Heart was somehow part of the same elaborate "prank." These people had lived in the Diamond Kingdom, and they had escaped—seamlessly, it seemed—while stealing valuable equipment, only to secure asylum in Clover.

It made sense to everyone except the Diamond Kingdom itself. How is it that everyone in the world seems to know who Lotus Whomalt and Fanzell Kruger are, except us? The frustration was maddening, and the top brass found themselves circling back to a single, almost laughable explanation: Someone messed with our minds.

One of the generals had been bold enough to suggest it outright—that someone had cast a spell to erase the memory of these individuals from the minds of every single Diamond Kingdom citizen, sparing only Morris for reasons unknown. The suggestion had been dismissed at first as ridiculous paranoia, but when their spies in Clover confirmed they knew of Lotus and his group, the theory gained unsettling credibility.

If this was true, Edelstein seethed at the thought. Manipulated again? After breaking free from Morris' control, after clawing my way back to sanity, is this what I'm reduced to? The notion was infuriating, and yet... what other explanation fit?

The quartet kneeling before Edelstein had been exploring a strong magic region near the Spade Kingdom's borders during the supposed "erasure." If this truly was the work of a spell, they should have been far beyond its range of effect. No mage alive could craft a spell precise enough to selectively erase memories from an entire kingdom while sparing spies embedded in Clover. Such precision was impossible—or so Edelstein wanted to believe.

Unless the caster knew exactly who they were targeting. But that idea opened too many contradictions. Why leave Morris untouched? Why exempt spies who could unravel the illusion? Forbidden magic of that caliber would undoubtedly come with a heavy price, so why leave exploitable gaps?

The more plausible answer was an area-of-effect spell, indiscriminately targeting everyone within its radius, with perhaps a few exceptions—like Morris. But the purpose of such a spell? That was a question for later.

For now, Edelstein and the others had made their decision. If this quartet confirmed the existence of Lotus, Fanzell, and the rest, they would reluctantly acknowledge the general's theory: their minds had been tampered with. The thought made Edelstein's blood boil. To admit that Morris, the very man who had once reduced him to a mindless puppet, was now their only key to the truth was salt in a gaping wound.

But if these four denied knowing anything? Then, no matter how compelling the evidence, they would treat this entire ordeal as a scheme orchestrated by Clover and Heart to destabilize the Diamond Kingdom—a ruse they would crush beneath the weight of their fury.

Edelstein glanced sideways at his minister—the same minister who had been reduced to a powerless figurehead when Morris seized control as royal advisor. The minister stiffened under the weight of Edelstein's gaze, nodded once, and cleared his throat with a cough. His eyes drifted down to the quartet of Mage Warriors kneeling before the throne.

"You four..." The minister hesitated, clearly weighing his words. He needed to phrase this carefully. "We've lost two of the Eight Shining Generals and need to fill the seats. Who do you think would be suitable candidates?"

The four Mage Warriors exchanged baffled looks. Why the hell are they asking us about something this serious? They were nobodies—ordinary soldiers with no reason to be summoned before the King himself, let alone to discuss matters as monumental as promotions. The confusion was written plainly on their faces, but eventually, one of them clenched his jaw, bit his lip, and raised a trembling hand.

"May I speak?"

The minister gave a curt nod. "You may."

The Mage Warrior took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "I would like to recommend Adjutant General Lotus."

The courtroom fell deathly silent. The Mage Warrior, oblivious to the shift in the air, pressed on. "General Lotus is deeply loyal to the kingdom. While his magical prowess might not match that of the other Shining Generals, his quick thinking and ingenuity make him a strong candidate. Even if he's not a permanent replacement, he could serve as a capable interim until someone more suitable is ready."

The other three Mage Warriors nodded in hushed agreement, whispering amongst themselves. Each of them had been treated well by Lotus—a rare experience in a kingdom where abuse and exploitation by superiors were the norm.

The one who had spoken felt it was a matter of repayment. Lotus had been kind to him, and this was his chance to return the favor. The others simply thought that if someone new had to rise to power, it might as well be someone who actually cared about his subordinates' lives, rather than another coldhearted tyrant.

Heads bowed, the four didn't notice the growing horror on the faces of everyone else in the room. A chill rippled through the court, but the minister, despite his trembling hands, forced himself to continue.

"Ah yes... General Lotus," the minister said, his voice strained. "Certainly a fine choice. Perhaps I should pay him a visit to gauge his ambition. I believe he was recently married, wasn't he? I should bring his wife a wedding gift... what was her name again?" He tapped his forehead theatrically, as if trying to recall. "Miss..."

"Lana!" the Mage Warrior who had spoken earlier offered helpfully. "General Lotus loves his wife dearly. A thoughtful gift would definitely make a good impression on him!"

Still bowing, the Mage Warrior spoke with polite enthusiasm, and the others nodded along, all blissfully unaware of the visible dread spreading across the faces of everyone else in the room.

Edelstein, seated on his throne, was trembling as if gripped by an arctic wind. He swallowed hard and motioned weakly for the minister to proceed.

The minister steadied himself, though his legs were shaking beneath his robes. "Well, that fills one vacancy. As for the other..."

Another Mage Warrior opened his mouth to speak, but the minister quickly cut him off. "We're not in a rush to fill the second seat. Instead, we're more interested in hearing about potential candidates for the future. Promising talents or rising stars among the younger generation. Who stands out to you?"

The interrupted Mage Warrior hesitated, scratching at his neck nervously. "Well, uh... I'd say Lieutenant Fanzell, right?"

It felt like the safest answer. Fanzell Kruger had been widely praised as a prodigy and even earned a word of acknowledgment from the King himself. If I suggest someone else, it'll look like I'm questioning the King's judgment. That'd be suicide, he thought.

The other three murmured their agreement, echoing the name with a chorus of nods.

Edelstein's trembling worsened. He clenched his fists as the final piece of the puzzle slipped into place.

The minister pressed forward, voice strained yet steady. "Thank you for your input. As a reward, we'll arrange for her to craft some magic tools for you personally. Be sure to offer your gratitude if you meet her."

The Mage Warriors' heads shot up, expressions brightening. "Yes!" they replied in unison. "If we ever meet Ms. Dominante Code, we will thank her personally!"

The minister's smile was tight, almost pained. "Good. You are dismissed."

There was no need to ask about the children. Their existence was a tightly guarded secret, and the quartet knew nothing of their identities.

"Praise to Your Majesty! And praise to the Diamond Kingdom!" the Mage Warriors cried, bowing low once more.

Edelstein shakily raised his arm in a salute, his voice cracking. "P-praise... to the D-Diamond Kingdom!"

The Mage Warriors bowed deeply before retreating from the throne room, paying no mind to their King's unsteady response. Everyone knew Edelstein's health was poor—it wasn't unusual for him to appear frail. They assumed it was just another episode and hurried away to avoid embarrassing him further.

Their haste to leave prevented them from noticing the frozen, terrified expressions of the court's remaining occupants. Had they spared a single glance back, they would have seen a room full of pale, wide-eyed faces and the barely suppressed panic etched into every gaze.

As the heavy doors thudded shut, the minister stood motionless for a moment, inhaling deeply to steady himself. Bowing low before Edelstein, he spoke, his voice measured but uneasy.

"Your Majesty, what shall we do about those traitors? Shall I deploy our spies to assassinate them before they can divulge any secrets—"

"NO!" Edelstein's thin voice erupted with an uncharacteristic ferocity, and his bony fists slammed against the arms of his throne. The force sent him into a fit of hoarse coughing, his breath rattling as cold sweat dripped down his face. His pupils were wide with horror as he weakly raised a trembling finger toward the minister.

"Make it clear to everyone," Edelstein rasped, each word scraping painfully from his throat, "that those traitors... have nothing to do with our kingdom. Ignore them. Let them live their lives!"

The audience in the throne room froze, their minds reeling. What is he thinking?

Though Lotus was not among the kingdom's uppermost elite, he still held secrets—secrets that could cripple the Diamond Kingdom if leaked. Logic dictated that Lotus and his group should be top priorities for elimination or capture. Fanzell, Dominante, and the children were all potential threats. Lana, though insignificant on her own, might still know enough to warrant disposal.

It was the obvious choice. Yet, the King had issued a direct command to spare them.

The courtiers dared not question his reasoning. In the Diamond Kingdom, the King's word was absolute. To defy it was unthinkable, especially with a ruler as volatile as Edelstein.

"By your word, Your Majesty!" they declared in unison, bowing deeply.

Edelstein nodded weakly and waved them off with a frail hand. "Good. Now leave me. I wish to be alone."

One by one, the courtiers exited the throne room in an orderly line. The moment the doors closed behind them, Edelstein slumped back in his throne, his skeletal frame seeming to wither further under the weight of his exhaustion.

"They don't understand... they don't understand... of course, they won't understand..." Edelstein muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead with a shaking hand.

Edelstein's life had been defined by his frailty. Born with a constitution so weak that circulating mana was a near-death sentence, he had been granted a grimoire filled with powerful spells—a mockery of his royal lineage, as he could never wield them. Using magic could very well kill him.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Edelstein had ascended to the throne. His father's inability to sire another heir had ensured his position. Without royal blood, Edelstein would have been cast into the lowest depths of society, unable even to perform the grueling labor of a miner due to his physical inadequacies.

This bitter truth left Edelstein with a ravenous hunger for power—power he could never possess. Unable to manifest it through his own body, he had turned to books and arcane studies, obsessing over the feats of great mages. This obsession had blinded him, leading him to permit Morris's horrifying experiments in the hope of finding a way to fix his broken body and transform himself into a being of unmatched strength.

But in his desperation, Edelstein had underestimated Morris, spending nearly sixteen months as a puppet under his control. The bitter taste of being manipulated had scarred Edelstein deeply, but not enough to rid him of his greed. Despite everything, he had spared Morris, clinging to the hope that the scientist's research might still hold the key to his transformation.

This same obsession had made Edelstein acutely aware of the significance of the mysterious spell—one that had engulfed the entire kingdom. He didn't know who this enigmatic individual was or why they wanted Lotus and the others, but one thing was clear: they were unimaginably powerful.

Edelstein had already guessed that this mysterious figure was the one who had freed him from Morris's control. Yet he felt no gratitude. Instead, an icy fear gripped him. If they had the power to release him, they surely also had the power to bend his will again—or worse, to end his life entirely.

There must be something they left behind, Edelstein thought, his mind racing. Some marks, some restrictions buried deep within me. A backup plan to make me a puppet again—or to kill me outright if I cross them.

Edelstein valued his life and his freedom above all else. He could not allow his kingdom to take any action that might provoke this shadowy force. Sparing Lotus and his group was not an act of mercy; it was a calculated move to ensure his own survival.

"I hope this is enough," Edelstein murmured to the empty throne room, his voice a hollow whisper. "I hope they understand... I have no intention of offending them."

He sank deeper into his throne, the cold dread of uncertainty seeping into his weary bones.

House Silva

Shortly after Acier finished venting her heart on the beach, Sebastian flew her back to Castle Silva. As they approached, a grand sight awaited them—practically every servant of House Silva was gathered outside, with Alfred, Jeeves, and Hilda at the forefront. The staff were bowing deeply, while the maids curtsied gracefully, and they all declared in unison:

"Congratulations on your recovery, Lady Acier!"

News had traveled fast. Naturally, as the House most affected, members of House Silva who had been out of the loop were among the first to learn the truth.

Acier's heart warmed as the couple dismounted the Water Eagle. She smiled gratefully, offering the servants a few words of thanks.

The loyal staff were buzzing with excitement—not only because they adored and idolized Acier, but because her recovery offered stability for the household. If Acier were to pass away, things could get difficult for House Silva, at least temporarily. That could mean budget cuts, shifts in priorities, or worse, layoffs. No one wanted to lose their place here, so they were relieved beyond measure that such a grim scenario seemed far away now.

But then, their excitement turned to shock.

Acier was holding hands with Sebastian.

The staff froze mid-bow as they noticed this. Some stiffened, ready to pay respects to their lord, but stopped when Sebastian waved them off with a soft smile.

"Go about your day," he said casually.

It was surreal. For a moment, it felt as though they were all caught in the same dream.

Dorothy stiffly turned her head toward Sebastian, her face a mixture of bewilderment and disbelief. I made this guy my vice-captain?

Sebastian gave her a stiff nod in response, though inwardly he shared her sentiment. In the original timeline, Dorothy and Kirsch's dynamic was never explored. In fact, they had almost no interactions on screen. Kirsch faded into obscurity after the Elf Saga, doing nothing of significance afterward. Dorothy, too, was sidelined after becoming the Witch Queen. Tabata's writing didn't leave much room to understand either character, let alone their connection.

Why Dorothy had chosen Kirsch as her vice-captain was a mystery. Perhaps it was because, despite his insufferable personality, Kirsch had the mana and skills for the position. Or perhaps the Coral Peacocks were simply lacking in talent, as they were one of the weakest squads at the time. Maybe Dorothy, often asleep, hadn't made the decision herself and had left it to her squad.

Whatever the case, Dorothy stiffly replied, "Dorothy. Dorothy Unsworth."

Kirsch paused, furrowing his brows. "Hmm? I've never heard of a House Unsworth—"

Before the conversation could spiral into disaster, Sebastian cut in sharply. "Are the rest of you going to join us?" He wasn't about to risk Kirsch's classist tendencies rearing their ugly head in front of Dorothy. The boy had a reputation for saying cruel things, and Sebastian wasn't about to let that happen here.

Florian and Aurelia gave him a quick, grateful nod. Crisis averted—for now.

Sebastian's words shifted everyone's focus to the five individuals standing beside Alfred, clearly uncomfortable after being ignored for so long.

Ignatius Vermillion was at the center, exuding the commanding presence befitting the head of House Vermillion. On his right stood a woman with vermillion hair like his but softer features, embodying a gentler beauty uncommon among Vermillions. Her aura was serene and composed, more akin to her brother-in-law Florian than her fiery relatives. Her deep blue eyes matched those of her eldest daughter. She wore a flowing red dress and carried a stylish grimoire satchel at her side. This was Amber Vermillion, born into a branch family of House Vermillion, who had married into the main family after capturing Ignatius' attention.

On Ignatius' left was Fuegoleon, standing stiffly as though carrying a weight heavier than his 2-year-old brother, Leopold, who sat perched on his shoulder with a mischievous grin. Fuegoleon's depressed expression, paired with the slightly distressed looks of his parents, hinted that all was not well. However, most of the room's attention was drawn to the fifth figure.

It wasn't unusual to see the other Vermillions in attendance for... well anything, but Mereoleona Vermillion's presence was a shock. She stood with her arms crossed, her scowl radiating displeasure. Known for her relentless training in the Grand Magic Zones, Mereoleona rarely returned to the kingdom. In fact, she had left for training just eight days ago, making her sudden reappearance all the more puzzling.

Acier cocked an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Mereoleona? Back so soon?" she asked. It was unheard of for Mereoleona to cut her training trips short; the shortest on record had been a month, and that was only because her mother was about to give birth to Leopold.

Mereoleona snorted and shot her parents a pointed glare. "These old bags called me back, claiming it was an emergency. What a waste of my time!"

Ignatius's eyes narrowed at his daughter, his expression a mixture of irritation and exasperation. Amber, on the other hand, responded with a serene yet pointed smile—the kind that could unnerve even the undefeated lioness.

Mereoleona stiffened but refused to back down, holding her mother's gaze in a silent battle of wills. Eventually, Amber broke the silence with a soft but firm tone. "Mereoleona, dear, this is urgent. It concerns your future."

Mereoleona scoffed, her mana flaring around her like wildfire as she clenched her fists. "How many times do I have to say it, woman?! If you want me to mate, find me a man who can beat me in battle. Only then will they be worthy of my body and heart!"

The room went silent as everyone blinked awkwardly. Oh. That's what this is about.

Amber and Ignatius both looked as though they wanted to cry. If such a man existed, don't you think we would've brought him to you by now?!

Initially, Ignatius hadn't been too concerned with his children's love lives. Unlike Amber, he saw no reason to meddle. However, Nozel Silva's dramatic declaration at the War Merit Conferment Ceremony had changed his perspective. Feeling competitive and inspired, he returned home with the intent to sort through potential marriage proposals for Fuegoleon.

Ignatius assumed the process would be straightforward. Fuegoleon was the official heir to House Vermillion, already taking on some administrative duties. Surely, there would be an endless line of noblewomen vying for the chance to marry him and become the future matriarch. Confident, Ignatius instructed his butler to bring him the current offers.

To his shock, the butler returned with only ten.

Thinking there must be a mistake, Ignatius demanded clarification. The butler calmly explained that most of the proposals had either expired or been withdrawn after years of silence from House Vermillion. Many of the ladies had moved on and married elsewhere.

Though rattled, Ignatius still believed the situation could be salvaged. He figured that once Fuegoleon publicly expressed interest in finding a partner, new proposals would flood in. However, when the butler presented another 20 potential offers—compiled using House Vermillion's intelligence network—Ignatius was taken aback. The butler explained that these were likely all the offers they would receive without making a public announcement, which might embarrass the family and make them seem desperate.

So, Ignatius now had 30 proposals on his desk. That seemed like a respectable number at first glance. But after filtering out offers from wildly inappropriate candidates—those far too old, too young, of dubious character, or, in some cases, male—Ignatius was left with just three.

He sat frozen in disbelief as the reality of the situation sank in. For the first time, he understood Amber's panic over their children's futures. Even worse, as he read through those final three proposals, it became painfully clear that none of them would work.

The first proposal came from House Calmreich, offering their eldest daughter as a potential match. At four years younger than Fuegoleon, the age gap wasn't a concern, given that noble society often permitted marriages with even larger differences.

The arrangement wouldn't require immediate marriage; instead, the families would hold an engagement ceremony to formalize the relationship, allowing the couple time to build rapport and develop positive feelings before setting a wedding date.

Finesse Calmreich was a sweet girl with a lovely personality, someone Ignatius and Amber could have easily approved of. Unfortunately, her fault lay not in her character but in her lineage. She was Augustus Kira Clover XIII's grandniece.

If Fuegoleon married Finesse, their families would become in-laws. Ignatius and Amber, despite being older, would be obligated to treat Augustus as an uncle, and Fuegoleon would be forced to call the corpulent, self-absorbed ruler Grandfather. The very idea sent shivers down their spines.

Moreover, while the proposal came from House Calmreich, it would also tie House Vermillion to House Kira. Such a connection would give the Kiras—a family known for their cunning and ambition—a foothold into House Vermillion. Ignatius had no intention of allowing those parasites to sink their fangs into his family. Thus, despite Finesse's merits, her offer was firmly rejected.

The second proposal initially seemed like a godsend. It was from House Aquaria, whose daughter, Lily Aquaria, was a beautiful and kind young woman just three years younger than Fuegoleon. Enthusiastic about the match, Ignatius and Amber decided to personally visit House Aquaria to express their interest.

However, the meeting took a shocking turn. Upon their arrival, the couple was met with an awkward reception. Shortly after receiving her grimoire, Lily had renounced her family name, joined the church, and committed her life to serving as a nun. House Aquaria had kept this information under wraps, hoping to avoid damaging their reputation.

Lily's parents were devastated. They realized that if they had convinced their daughter to delay her decision, they might have secured a marriage alliance with House Vermillion. However, it was too late. Attempting to drag Lily back now wasn't an option, as opposing the church—a powerful and influential institution—was a dangerous proposition for a minor noble house like Aquaria.

Even House Vermillion, despite its strength, could not risk offending the church. Forcing marriage upon an unwilling girl, particularly one who had taken vows, would provoke public outrage and irreparable damage to their reputation. The church held immense sway over the kingdom, shaping public perception and propping up the monarchy with claims of divine right.

This dynamic was one reason House Kira dominated the throne, as their light magic was portrayed as holy, reinforcing their "rightful" place in the hierarchy. Similarly, this belief system marginalized houses like Vermillion and Silva, whose lack of light magic disqualified them from being viewed as divinely favored.

The church's subtle but pervasive influence was not something any noble family could afford to challenge lightly. If the church were to release a revised version of its scripture declaring fire magic as hellish and heretical, House Vermillion would be branded as devil-worshippers. Such propaganda could inspire a witch hunt, with opportunistic nobles and zealots alike seizing the chance to dismantle House Vermillion for its land, wealth, and power.

Faced with these realities, Ignatius and Amber had no choice but to abandon Lily Aquaria as an option.

Their hopes now rested on the third and final offer. But this, too, proved to be a disappointment. The proposal came from House Roselei, whose daughter, Charlotte, was undeniably stunning. However, Charlotte was a misandrist who harbored an intense disdain for men, making her an ill-suited match for Fuegoleon.

Even if Ignatius and Amber had been willing to overlook this issue, the proposal was nullified by a scandal that erupted just the day before. Lord Roselei, Charlotte's father, returned home with a blonde woman and a young boy who bore a striking resemblance to him. To everyone's shock, he declared the woman his concubine and the boy his son.

This revelation set the kingdom ablaze with gossip. Lord Roselei had long been regarded as a rare and loyal nobleman, one who refrained from taking concubines or mistresses. The news of his affair, which had occurred three years prior, shattered that image. While he had lost contact with the woman and her child, the expansion of noble networks into the Forsaken Realm following Conrad's reforms had led him to track them down. Moved by guilt and a sense of responsibility, Lord Roselei brought them back to his estate and publicly acknowledged the boy as his heir. Proclaiming him as Luck Voltia- Roselei.

Although this act of atonement was touching to some, it was devastating for Charlotte and her mother. Both felt deeply betrayed, their trust in Lord Roselei utterly destroyed. Charlotte's simmering resentment toward men turned into outright hatred, as she watched her mother retreat into seclusion, overwhelmed by grief and humiliation. For Charlotte, her father's actions only confirmed her belief that all men were unfaithful and unreliable.

Given Charlotte's heightened animosity toward men and the scandal surrounding her family, Ignatius and Amber couldn't even consider her as a viable candidate for Fuegoleon.

With all three offers eliminated, the couple sat in despair. What had initially seemed like a straightforward process had turned into an unmitigated disaster

It seemed fate had decided that Fuegoleon was destined to remain single, and the realization sent Ignatius and Amber into a full-blown panic. The stakes were immense. If Fuegoleon—the heir and future Lord of House Vermillion—failed to produce heirs, the family's succession could spiral into chaos.

While Florian's branch of the family was unlikely to challenge Ignatius for leadership, the same couldn't be said of the more distant Vermillion branches. Even in a house as united as theirs, troublemakers and opportunistic relatives weren't entirely absent. A power vacuum could incite ambition, and the thought of a potential succession war filled Ignatius with dread.

Leo was too young to bear such a responsibility, so Ignatius and Amber turned their attention to their daughter, Mereoleona. If she married and had children, Fuegoleon could eventually pass the title and power to his future niece or nephew. Fuegoleon would likely agree to such an arrangement, given his nature, but Mereoleona herself posed a unique and formidable challenge.

Her expectations for a potential husband were nothing short of absurd. Mereoleona demanded that her partner be close to her age and capable of defeating her in combat—a feat Ignatius wasn't even sure he could accomplish anymore.

"Why don't you just ask for eternal life while you're at it?" Ignatius muttered under his breath, trembling at the thought. He was nearing his wit's end.

The idea of becoming Augustus' nephew haunted him like a nightmare. That connection would make him Damnatio's cousin, and the convoluted family tree could even result in someone like Sebastian treating him as a junior.

Ignatius clenched his fists in frustration. If he could travel back in time, he would incinerate his past self for rejecting all those suitors for Fuegoleon. Now, his last hope lay in Leopold. Ignatius glanced at his youngest son, perched on his brother's shoulder, and sighed.

"Leo, my boy," he thought despairingly, "please don't end up like your siblings."

The atmosphere shifted as Ignatius turned his attention to Acier Silva, who was seated nearby. With a faint nod, he addressed her politely. "Congratulations on your recovery, Acier."

Amber followed suit, offering a strained smile and a shallow curtsy. "Our apologies for this unannounced visit. Such delightful news is rare, and it was... well, shocking—" Amber cut herself off abruptly, her gaze flickering to her daughter. "Though perhaps not shocking for everyone."

Mereoleona snorted dismissively, her arms crossed in defiance.

The exchange drew puzzled looks from most of the room, save for Sebastian, Acier, Nozel, and Dorothy, who were already in the know.

Amara Silva broke the silence, her voice hoarse. "She knew?" she asked, pointing at Sebastian with incredulity.

Sebastian nodded indifferently, eliciting a sharp blink from Amara. Her throat tightened as she rasped, "Why?"

From Amara's perspective, Mereoleona's relationship with Acier, while notable, didn't warrant this level of trust. Why had Mereoleona been privy to information withheld from other prominent members of House Silva, like herself, Solid, or Nebra?

Sebastian shrugged casually, his tone cool and composed. "We needed her help with something," he said, offering no further details.

Realizing she wouldn't get any more answers, Amara didn't bother pressing him.

Sebastian then turned to Mereoleona and nodded in acknowledgment. "You have my thanks for that."

"Hmph," Mereoleona snorted, waving off his gratitude. "I barely did anything." She shifted her attention to Acier, her tone softening in a way that was uncharacteristic for her. "How close are you to a full recovery?"

The Vermillions collectively perked up, their interest piqued.

Acier glanced at Sebastian, silently seeking his permission. With a subtle nod, he allowed her to speak freely.

Smiling, Acier turned back to Mereoleona. "I'd say I'm about 85% there. We just need to overcome one last hurdle."

Mereoleona raised an eyebrow. "How long will that take?"

Acier chuckled warmly. "If all goes well, I should be back to full health by the end of the month."

Mereoleona's lips curled into a feral grin. "Well, that's one hell of a birthday present."

Acier Silva's birthday is August 31st. About 6 days away.

Acier paused, then let out a broad smile of her own. "I hadn't thought of it like that, but yes, it is, isn't it?" Her eyes flickered toward Sebastian, gratitude mingling with mischief in her gaze. I have him to thank for this, she mused, but it's my birthday. He should be the one giving me the present. Subtly licking her lips, Acier began to anticipate how she might collect her reward.

Sebastian, oblivious to her thoughts, reached for the water pitcher, only to pause as a sudden chill ran up his spine. He turned his gaze toward the Vermillions and gestured toward the empty chairs.

"Do you need an invitation?" he asked coolly.

Ignatius and Amber exchanged glances before shrugging. Taking the lead, Ignatius seated himself at the opposite end of the table, directly across from Sebastian. Amber took the seat to his left, while Mereoleona sat to his right. Fuegoleon took the chair beside his sister, and Leopold, having been picked up by Amber, was gently plopped into the seat next to her.

At that moment, the twin doors swung open, and a parade of maids entered, carefully pushing metal trolleys laden with steaming dishes. They were accompanied by several butlers, who moved with practiced precision, setting the long dining table with an array of delicacies: warm, crusty bread; perfectly roasted meats; creamy porridge; golden eggs; pitchers of ale and wine; bowls brimming with nuts and fresh fruit. The feast spread across the table like an artist's canvas, every dish a stroke of culinary artistry.

Yet, despite the tantalizing aromas filling the room, not a single hand reached out. Amber, ever mindful of decorum, held Leopold's small hand firmly as he reached instinctively for a piece of bread. All eyes turned toward Sebastian, waiting.

Noble decorum demanded that during meal time none were to feast till given the blessing by the highest present member from the House. In this case Sebastian. While the Vermillions, being royalty themselves, could have disregarded such protocol, they refrained. They weren't so crude as to trample on the customs of their host.

Sebastian, seated at the head of the table, maintained an indifferent expression, his features unreadable. Yet, as he gazed at the feast before him, a faint warmth stirred within.

It reminded him of a life long past, one filled with stark contrasts. Pre-transmigration, after he had taken custody of his younger sister and left the orphanage, he had learned firsthand how difficult it was to balance adulthood. Raising a child while managing school, hunting for jobs, and keeping up with daily responsibilities had felt like an endless uphill climb.

Money had been tight, but he had found a solution—though not without cost. Dipping into a significant portion of his parents' will, he had enrolled his sister in a prestigious boarding school, one that could provide for all her needs. He'd made her a promise: once he became a real doctor and got his life together, he'd bring her back home.

That decision, though practical, had left him with an empty house and lonelier meals. Most evenings were spent sitting at a barren table, his sister's presence limited to holidays and vacations. Ironically, his friends and "bros" had been more regular guests at his table than his own sibling.

But life had a way of pulling people apart. As his friends pursued their dreams and higher educations, they drifted away, leaving Sebastian to spend the last six years of his life dining alone.

Medical school didn't help. The grueling workload left no room for the deep bonds he had once cherished. And while Sebastian was an introvert, he didn't enjoy solitude.

Society often misunderstood introverts, conflating them with shut-ins or antisocial personalities. In truth, Sebastian liked the hum of conversation, the presence of others. A full table with lively discussion brought him solace. He didn't need to dominate the conversation; just listening, watching the energy flow, and occasionally adding a comment here and there was enough for him.

Now, seated at this table, filled with the lively presence of the Vermillions, Sebastian let out an inward chuckle. The sight of Leopold bouncing eagerly in his chair, Fuegoleon's calm but attentive demeanor, Mereoleona's impatient scowl, and Amber's quiet attempts to keep her family in line stirred something in him.

I could get used to this, he thought.

Breaking the silence, Sebastian reached for a fried egg, placing it neatly onto his plate. His voice was cool and composed as he spoke the words they were waiting for.

"Dig in."

The room burst into motion as forks clinked against plates and conversations sprang to life.

Unbeknownst to him, however, this serene breakfast would soon spiral into chaos. Inviting the Vermillions to breakfast, Sebastian would reflect later, was a mistake.

Author's Note:

[1] Longest Chapter yet