The orange and reddish paint, that tinted the skies, was replaced by a dark blue, as the sun that shone over Hage, dipped below the horizon. A gentle breeze, graced the forsaken realm, offering a strange sense of comfort, for this remote area. Allowing the villagers, to blissfully enter their dreams, uncaring or worried about the predators and critters that stocked their village from the distance.
Along a winding cobblestone path, Sebastian and Dorothy cloaked in their contrasting wear, walked silently, side-by-side, footsteps in sync, as they made their way back to the Grimoire Tower. Regardless of the darkness that engulfed their surroundings, they were able to make out the silhouette of the looming ancient structure from afar, its shadow a beacon, to guide them to it.
Breaking the silence; Dorothy, with her eyes, which seemed to reflect the dying daylight, adding to their transcendent form, flashed Sebastian a teasing smirk, bending her back forward, and turning her head, diagonally upwards, attracting his attention.
As he looked, down to her in silent questioning, she let out an inquisitively playful laugh. "Why are we coming back here? Neither of us lacks a grimoire," the young lady, couldn't hide her curiosity.
Without giving Sebastian time to answer, she stood upright and nudged his ribs lightly with her elbow. "What are you after Father?" She enunciated that title, with a mock undertone, of reverence, and filial piety.
Furrowing his brows, Sebastian, couldn't help but let out a deep sigh, gaze still locked on her, he satisfied her snoopiness. Somewhat.
"There's something I want to check", he began, voice calm and indifferent as always, before it took a sharp turn for a try at dry humor. "Daughter", he responded to her address, with an unfamiliar one of his own. The edge in his tone was more comedic than offended.
Dorothy giggled softly, her laughter genuine, utterly unbothered, and unphased by the response. She skipped a few steps ahead of Sebastian, the hem of her vibrant pink cloak fluttering in the breeze. Humming a soft tune under her breath, her melody matched the light chirps of the birds and faint twitches of the crickets still awake.
As they neared closer to the tower, her steps and palpable excitement, visibly slowed, and she gave a hesitant glance back to Sebastian over her shoulder, her expression marred with uncertainty.
"Do you think…" she started with her voice soft, barely a whisper, "Do you think Nozel and your family will accept me." The silence that followed was deafening, even the forest and nightlife, seemed to die down.
The question caused Sebastian to falter in his stride, for the faintest of moments, but falter, nonetheless. Studying Dorothy quietly, as she fidgeted under his gaze, hesitant to meet his eyes, he cleared his throat. He could've decided to soften his words and offer her a comforting lie, but he already vowed not to deceive her, so he opted for honesty. The cold-hearted truth.
Stopping his movement and waiting for her to look up at him, he opened his mouth, as she fully focused on him. "It might be uncomfortable at first", he weighed each word carefully before slowly moving on, "but I'm positive they'll come around."
As hope began to dance in Dorothy's eyes, he continued, "My wife Acier, and my youngest Noelle, I'm sure will be very receptive of you…", he paused with his gaze drifting upwards at the starry sky, before looking at her once more. "However, my eldest daughter Nebra…and second son Solid, might outright reject you. What those two fear most in life is change, don't be surprised if it takes years before they warm up to you."
Dorothy, stiffened at that, the tension in her body was clear, with the slight tremble of her legs, and clenching and unclenching of her hands that dangled at her sides. Her previous light-heartedness faded away, like a mask being removed, as she returned to that fragile lonely girl, who was searching for her place in the world. Sebastian studied the tightening of her jaw and watched her inhale a dry lump in her throat, as she struggled to maintain her composure.
Sebastian sighed once more, softer this time, frustrated that he had to be blunt, but aware that a lie here could cause so much more pain. Because that would give her expectations, and nothing is more painful than dashed and failed expectations. Steeling his resolve, he placed a hand on her shoulder, stilling her trembling figure like an anchor, and continued.
"As for Nozel…" He began to trail off, hesitant to voice these words that could further break her, as he narrowed his eyes lost in thought. "I don't really understand my son." Sebastian conceded and spoke, but it seemed more like to himself than, Dorothy. "There is so much about him, that is unreadable, as I'm rarely in a position to see his aloofness crack. That is a privilege, he reserves solely for his mother."
Sighing in frustration, Sebastian cracked his knuckles one by one, trying to keep calm and measured. "Nozel is far too mature, and professional for his age. Far too pragmatic. I'm quite positive he's not looking for a romantic relationship right now." Or possibly even ever, his father didn't exactly make the idea of fatherhood, tempting, he probably fears becoming me, with a passion.
A mix of bitter pride and disappointment seeped into Sebastian's tone, as he let out a wry chuckle. "That boy reminds me too much of myself, the man I don't want to be ever again, in so many ways. He probably recognizes that himself, which is why he despises me more than anyone. His cold-hearted logic, assessments, and reasoning, weighing all of his choices carefully in advance like an investor, looking for the pros and cons, before deciding whether it's worth acting."
Sebastian let out a deeper sigh, one of resignation, before meeting Dorothy's hopeful gaze once again. He ignored the light in her eyes, bit his lip, and finished his point. "He'll probably marry you, Dorothy. No, he'll definitely do so. But not out of love, longing, or desire, just because there are few better choices than you, to sire children with, and continue on the Silva bloodline. It'll be a loveless marriage…where he probably won't feel anything special for you, what you desire for a while."
Dorothy didn't respond right away. She didn't have to, the way her eyes dulled, and the light reflecting in them, exiled to the void, was answer enough. Her jolly visage was uncharacteristically blank. She forced out a small awkward (and oh so ugly) smile, wearing her mask once more like this revelation didn't bother her in the slightest. But Sebastian Silva was not one to miss the regret that briefly flickered in her lavender pearls, that should be so full of life.
Sebastian Silva can't give Dorothy Unsworth unreal expectations. But he can give her hope, that has truth to it. Stepping closer to the frozen girl, Sebastian's voice softened further. Gone was his blunt indifference, his tone gentler, more compassionate, and reassuring.
"That being said, I might be biased. I've been absent in my children's lives for far too long to be a good judge of their character. I'm only speaking to you, based on future visions, and daily reports on their actions I would receive from my butler, so I could monitor them, and assess their worth to me, House Silva, and the Kingdom."
"What I'm confident about, is that there are few people in this world that cherish their family and loved ones more than Nozel Silva. It's just about him recognizing you as family. When that happens, you'll find yourself with a better partner, than you can ever dream of. You won't hear it in his words, but if you give him a chance, and watch him closely, you'll see it in his actions."
Dorothy looked back up to him, light flickering in her eyes on and off, as Sebastian placed his other hand over her other shoulder. "But even if Nozel, my wife, my entire family, rejects you, refuses to acknowledge you, to accept you…it won't matter because I will. You'll always have a home, a place to belong in Castle Silva, even if you break your engagement with Nozel and go your separate ways, because from now on you are my daughter. And nothing will change that."
There was a moment of heavy silence, and this time the light flickering in her eyes, stayed. Dorothy's forced smile, peeled away, as it became something genuine, so broad it could light up a room. Her eyes softened and then, in a sudden burst of energy, she twisted out of his grasp, before slapping him hard on his back, the sound echoing the quiet forest, startling many critters awake.
Not paying any heed to Sebastian's winded expression, who hurriedly rubbed his back in pain. Dorothy shouted, "Old man!" Her voice refilled with warmth as she broke back into another playful skip, darting ahead of him. "Hurry up! The tower's not going to wait for you!"
But it will though!
Sebastian wanted to curse, but couldn't bring himself to, watching her twirl and frolic through the forest, like it was a common garden, edging infinitely closer to the Tower as her infectious laughter filled the air.
For a brief moment, Sebastian merely watched the girl, his stern visage, replaced by a soft tender smile. "Foolish girl", he muttered softly under his breath, but there was no real heat in his words, only an ever-growing affection.
Exhaling a breath of relief, and shaking himself out of his warm reverie, Sebastian lengthened his stride, his boots clicking rhythmically on the cobblestone, until he was walking side-by-side with his daughter once more.
As he caught up to her, he looked at her subtly for a moment, before remembering something. Reaching into his satchel bag, he pulled out an extra magic transponder, that he was originally planning on gifting her immediately, but forgot, as their conversation took a much more solemn and unexpected turn.
The transponder was a new model, much sleeker, a more expensive, than the ones that usually grace the market. It almost looked modern in its pitch-black design, adorned with silver lining, and intricate magic runes. Almost. The magic gem, on its head, sprouted like a microphone. Resulting in the craftsman's detailed design efforts being obsolete. The gem stood out like a sore thumb, and despite it undoubtedly being the most expensive part of the device, it was also the source of ire on the device.
Ignoring those thoughts, Sebastian wordlessly held the device out in front of her. Dorothy was no stranger to devices like these, as the Witch Forest was home to many strange contraptions, as many witches would isolate themselves in workshops to invent things, that could distract them from living in an open-air prison.
She let out a low whistle of appreciation, before shooting Sebastian a sly look. "Well, well, well…", she mused her voice tinged with mischief, "you weren't kidding about being rich."
That's royalty for you.
There was a teasing glint in her eyes, which earned her a sideways glance from Sebastian. "Don't be too impressed," his dry voice drawled out, into her ears. "This is the bare minimum for a member of House Silva. Every servant, maid, butler, guard, chef, you name it, is equipped with one as well."
The Silva's are filthy rich after all. More wealth than they could spend in a few generations, so why not just invest a bit more, to make themselves look cool?
Dorothy raised a brow at that because, despite her very recent arrival to the Clover Kingdom, she was quite confident that this transponder wasn't some common toy. Even by noble standards.
Uncaring for her thoughts, Sebastian explained, with his voice soft, but concrete. "This one," he pointed to the transponder, she twirled in her hand, "is linked directly to my own. So, if you need anything, you can contact me immediately. No excuses, alright?"
A warm smile tugged at Dorothy's lips. "Alright", she nodded, before carefully storing the transponder into her cloak, nestled tightly beside her grimoire. There was a certain warm feeling in the gift, although it was mundane and practical, and not some grandiose gesture, she would cherish it because it was the first thing she'd ever been given from outside her homeland. And from her new father, no less.
Watching her tuck her transponder into her cloak, her clothes already starting to bulk, Sebastian began to ponder for a moment, before nodding to himself, coming to terms with a decision.
"When we get home," he caught her attention once more with his calm but firm voice. "I will be adding you to the family registry." He paused and considered his next words. "So, I can give you your first allowance."
Dorothy blinked at that before reiterating, "Allowance?" She repeated back to him, as her questioning look, faded into a quirky smile, dancing on her lips.
Sebastian nodded, adopting a matter-of-factly persona. "As a member of House Silva and daughter of the family head, it's only natural for you to receive a monthly stipend. A sizeable amount at that. Feel free to use it to buy yourself a satchel to hold your belongings, and anything else that catches your eye. If you run out, just come to me again, House Silva lacks few things, and money is not one of them."
Dorothy felt an inexplicable, feeling in her chest. Not only brought about by him casually addressing her as his daughter, already dedicating a portion of House Silva's wealth to her, or promising to make their relationship official and add her to the family tree.
No more than that, it was four words, that flowed naturally from his mouth. When we get home.
Home. She Dorothy Unsworth, has a home. One that isn't that damned cage.
Looking up at her guardian, Dorothy flashed him a truly genuine and unguarded smile. Her figure was illuminated under the full moon's reflection. "Thank you," two simple words that were voiced with barely a whisper, but they got the message, and all that was left unsaid, across.
Sebastian didn't voice a response, the flicker in his eyes, was enough to represent his acknowledgment. He looked upwards and stopped as the cobblestone path finally ended, and they arrived at their destination.
Just like always, the Tower stood, tall and loomed over all life, in the heart of the forest, a large clearing was dedicated to the structure. Sebastian sighed in relief, seeing no lights or lamps crackle in the windows. The place was thankfully deserted now, compared to how lively it had been just a few hours ago.
Even Drouot seemed to have left for home, which made Sebastian grateful, because the worst possible outcome, would be if the old wizard had lived here. Sebastian came to Hage, not just for Dorothy but to visit this grimoire tower, for a very specific reason. He wouldn't dare to enter the one, in the royal capital, as it's always guarded and under scrutiny, so his actions would undoubtedly raise suspicions.
But here in Hage where the presence of Magic Knights is nonexistent, he could be a bit bolder. Of course, I'd be more ideal if people like Conrad and Julius didn't give him a jump scare and pop out in front of him, in places like this.
Turing to his daughter Sebastian spoke softly. "Dorothy", he began his voice low, "You're the only one I've ever told of my prophetic powers."
The petit girl, blinked in surprise, her eyes widening, once she fully processed the words. "Really?" She asked incredulously, "No one else, not even your family?"
Sebastian nodded slowly and spoke with a complicated voice. "Not even them. And by the way, your mother broke you, hopefully not ever them."
Dorothy's breath hitched, as she felt like she was about to relive all that bottled-up trauma once more. The idea of one's future is set in stone, written out like a story, and no matter what they do or the choices they make, they will always end up at the same end. She hates fate. She knows what it's like to be driven to despair, thinking of it, desperately trying to escape it, only for it to chase you down. Although she can't speak for everyone, she can understand many will be better off not ever having their future foretold, because when it's unpleasant, and they fail to change it, they'll come out of it far worse.
Dorothy Unsworth can't speak for everyone, but she's certain she doesn't want his- no their family to experience that pain as well.
Looking upwards to Sebastian, Dorothy gave him a solemn nod, before raising her right hand up to him, She curled her fingers into a ball, into a fist, and outstretched her pinky finger. She waited for him to respond, with a playful glint in her eyes.
Sebastian blinked, at the gesture, not able to hide his bewilderment. His brows furrowed slightly, suspicious, but not positive if she was doing what he thought she was doing.
"It's called a pinky promise," Dorothy said with a small, mischievous smile. "It's a vow that I'll keep this secret between the two of us forever."
For a moment, Sebastian was speechless. He was not the least bit surprised to see such a childlike gesture from someone like Dorothy, but rather because that something so familiar existed here. A pinky promise? He never expected to have a trip down memory lane in another world. It's weird how nostalgic a simple, shake can make someone.
Then again, he mused, if this world has fist bumps and high fives, why not pinky promises?
A chuckle escaped his lips, and he reached out, wrapping his pinky around hers in a gentle, almost reverent motion. "It's a promise, daughter," he said, his voice softer than usual, but no less firm.
Dorothy giggled, her earlier seriousness melting away as she squeezed his pinky with hers. "Yes, father," she replied, her voice light but filled with affection.
A simple vow, that broke the last big barrier, between the two. They were now partners in crime you could say, and they'd only get closer from here on out.
Releasing the hold, Sebastian stared down the twin wooden doors, marking the tower's entrance. "Dorothy", he softly broke the quiet, "I'm a prophet so there will come many times in life when you'll see me do things that don't make a shred of sense. Like sneaking into a Grimoire Tower after dark, despite already having a grimoire of my own."
He locked her gaze with his own and continued. "At times like these, I just need you to trust me…and give me a little space."
Dorothy stared at him for a beat, taking a little while to understand his point. She gave him a soft smile and shrugged her shoulders, utterly laid back. "No problem, I'll wait for you out here."
Sebastian gave her a light nod, internally relieved by her quick wit and sensitivity. "Thank you", he voiced his earnest gratitude as he pushed the twin doors open, the worn hinges squeaked in soft protest.
Before he stepped inside, he paused and popped his head back out the door. "If anything happens," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "contact me immediately."
Dorothy gave him a quick nod, her smile never fading. "I will," she promised.
Sebastian hesitated for a moment longer. "And be wary of people... animals... magical beasts," he added, the caution in his voice almost parental.
Dorothy let out a small, amused laugh, raising an eyebrow. "I will," she said again, the same playful lilt to her voice.
He nodded, his eyes scanning her for any signs of concern before he disappeared back behind the door. But just as it began to close, it creaked open again, and Sebastian's head popped back out. "And don't fall asleep."
This time, Dorothy sighed, more exasperated than before. "I know, Father," she said, drawing out the words in a tone that was equal parts fond and annoyed as if she had heard this lecture a thousand times.
Sebastian gave a satisfied nod and finally shut the doors behind him, the echo of their closing reverberating down the dark, empty hall that awaited him inside.
Walking through the pitch-black hallway, Sebastian was frustrated, by his blindness. "Stupid old fart, couldn't you leave some lamps on", Sebastian cursed Drouot under his breath. He had to watch his step, as the floor wasn't leveled and had many holes, that could trip him up or cause him to stumble.
Sebastian Silva, for the first time in his life, regretted that he was not a fire mage. If there were reporters in this world, the media, and House Vermillion, would surely have a field day.
Closely losing his patience, Sebastian's eyes lit up, in realization. His grimoire flew out of his satchel and radiated its bluish magical hue, illuminating the hallway, like a lantern. It's brilliant, almost blinding glow, caused insects and rodents to scurry away into the holes in the brick wall.
Clever Grimoire. Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle to himself in satisfaction, as he slowly followed it, as he made his way out of the hall, before arriving at the main room.
His grimoire floated inside, revealing the room, where the grimoire acceptance ceremony is held. A circular room, with shelves, upon shelves, holding countless grimoires, laying silently, like ordinary books, awaiting their rightful owner.
Unlike his grimoire, Sebastian stopped short of the entrance, hesitant to take the final step and enter the room. It wasn't fear or a strange mix of anticipation and excitement that held him back, but rather just a flurry of thoughts.
He reflected on the body, he transmigrated into, and how he assumed the identity of Sebastian Silva. How did I even end up here? Was a question, that he often thought about in his free time, but wasn't really the main cause of his concern, because he doubted, he would get an answer anytime soon.
No, what he was more concerned about was, what happened to the previous Sebastian Silva. The original, the real one. He had been pulled into a strange world, into a body of some noncanonical character, and effectively usurped his identity, with no resistance as far as he could recall, no rejection whatsoever, with none the wiser.
He was no stranger to the idea of multiple souls inhabiting a single body. It was a theme that Black Clover had frequented many times. There were plenty of examples- be it William and Patri sharing a single vessel, Julius and Lucius, Yuno and Litch's son, not to mention the hundreds of Clover Kingdom citizens that had reincarnated as elves, during the whole Eye of the Midnight Sun fiasco. Two souls, one body.
But his situation felt different than the others, forget about communication, he couldn't even sense another presence, another consciousness inside this body. There was no internal dialogue, struggle, or battle for who would control this body. He was sure he was alone; this body was his now.
Sebastian furrowed his brow, struggling to piece together the puzzle of his situation. If I'm not like William or Patri, then... maybe I'm more like Yuno and Licht's son. He remembered how Yuno carried the soul of Licht's child within him—a bond not of possession, but of fusion. Two halves of the same being, yet still individuals in their own right. A fusion, he mused, not possession.
He let out a heavy sigh, trying to apply that idea to himself. I've fused with the original Sebastian Silva. That much he was certain of. He had absorbed everything—Sebastian's skills, his memories, his emotions, and all the finely tuned details of his past life. The way his body reacted to magic; the instincts embedded in muscle memory—it all belonged to the Sebastian of this world. But even with all of that, Sebastian knew he wasn't him. He was still himself, with his own set of emotions, his own goals, his own principles. Different from the man whose body he now inhabited.
It's like I'm 30 percent Sebastian and 70 percent me, he thought, trying to make sense of the merging identities. It felt like a new version of himself had emerged, a fusion of both, but with his consciousness in the driver's seat. It was his soul in control now, not the original Sebastian's.
But the questions only deepened. If magic and mana are tied to the soul, what does that mean for me? He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if expecting some revelation to spring forth. Do I have my own magical attribute? My own power? His mind raced through possibilities. If the original Sebastian possessed magic, that power should now belong to him as well. But what about his soul, the one from a world without mana? Did that make him powerless here?
Am I like Asta and Liebe? The thought nagged at him. Is my soul empty of mana because of where I come from?
He frowned, frustration gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. It has to be the former, he hoped. In a world like this, being anything less than extraordinary wasn't just a disadvantage—it was a death sentence. The idea of being just a noble with wealth and status but no real power chilled him to the core. Sure, there were stories of people growing strong despite not having magical talent. Magna, for one, had clawed his way up with barely any mana, turning himself into a force to be reckoned with as a Magic Knight. And Rock Lee, from another world entirely, had done the same despite being unable to use ninjutsu.
But Sebastian wasn't sure he had even half their determination or drive. Could he really make a name for himself without some kind of magical cheat to lean on? He doubted it. I need something, he thought, the weight of it sinking in. An edge. Because in a world steeped in magic, being ordinary wasn't just a curse—it could be fatal.
He stared into the room ahead, feeling the pressure of the moment mounting. He had run through all the possibilities, and weighed every scenario in his mind. There was only one way to find out if he was special or not.
He'd thought about it long enough.
So, Sebastian took that final step and entered the room. The books all remained silent, but he didn't expect a reaction right away. He slowly studied the ancient books, as he stopped in the center of the room. This was the moment for him to finally receive some clue as to what kind of state he was in. He can theorize all he wants, but at the end of the day, he needs evidence to come to a concrete answer.
When in doubt find out.
All the grimoires sat silently on their shelves, looking no more remarkable than ordinary library books, powerless until they connected with someone worthy. Let's hope I'm one of them, Sebastian thought.
With a deep breath, he stretched out his arms, palms open, heart hammering in his chest with an uneasy mix of anticipation and dread. This is it. Come on... just one grimoire, any reaction.
He waited.
Seconds crawled by, turning into a minute. Then two. The room remained eerily still, the grimoires unresponsive, showing no sign of recognizing him. His hands began to feel heavy, but he kept them raised, straining for something—anything—to happen. His breath came shallow as the silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. No glowing light, no mystical tome floating off the shelves to meet him.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally let his arms fall, his shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment. He exhaled sharply, the sound echoing in the empty hall. Of course. No magical gift, no special grimoire, no cheat code to give him an edge.
His gaze drifted up to the high ceiling, as if the answers to his frustration might be hidden there. "Figures..." he muttered, bitterness creeping into his voice. The disappointment twisted in his gut, threatening to pull him into the same self-pity he'd always tried to avoid. He had come all this way, hoping this world would give him something to set him apart—something to make him special.
But just like before, the universe seemed content to let him be ordinary.
Sebastian slapped both his cheeks, the sharp sting snapping him out of his downward spiral. He wasn't going to let a little disappointment break him. Not here, not now. In this world where magic ruled everything, there were still plenty of ways to get stronger. He squared his shoulders, forcing himself to remember what he already knew. There's Ki, Zetten, trap magic, mana method... so many paths to power. He didn't need a second grimoire like Yuno or demonic powers like Asta to make a name for himself. His starting point was already leagues ahead of someone like Magna Swing—and Magna had fought and beaten Dante, a host of one of the strongest devils, purely through grit and determination.
If Magna can do that, then there's no reason I can't, Sebastian thought, the sting of his own slap already fading. If someone like Magna could claw his way up from the bottom of the ranks, then surely he—someone with status, resources, and at least a decent amount of talent—could do the same. No, better. He wasn't just aiming for strength; he had no intention of being ordinary anymore.
Taking a deep breath, he shoved his frustration aside. Maybe the lack of a reaction from the grimoires wasn't because he was unworthy. Yuno hadn't gotten his second grimoire until he'd fought to the brink of death, until his soul had resonated with Licht's son in the Spade Kingdom library. Maybe that's what Sebastian needed too—his own moment of desperation, a life-or-death struggle to awaken his magic. It was far too early to give up now.
He exhaled, turning to leave, his earlier disappointment giving way to a quiet but firm determination. This isn't the end, he told himself, feeling a new sense of resolve build in his chest. It's just the beginning. He was going to spend every free minute he had training, using the old facility at the Silva estate that had been left to gather dust. The original Sebastian hadn't bothered with it, like most nobles and royals, relying on their natural talent and vast mana pools. But that wasn't his path. He would push himself until his muscles burned and his mana ran dry. If he had to collapse from exhaustion or throw up in the process, so be it. He wasn't going to let himself become a burden in this world of magic.
If I can't at least become as strong as the Wizard King, Sebastian thought grimly, I'll be a disgrace to every transmigrator ever.
As Sebastian walked through the dark hallway, the soft blue glow from his grimoire casting long, eerie shadows on the stone walls, something unexpected happened. The grimoire, which had been quietly floating beside him, suddenly burst into life. The pages flew open with a surge of energy, the sound of paper flipping echoing loudly in the silence. He froze in his tracks, his eyes wide with shock. The once blank pages of the grimoire were now filling themselves with ink, line after line of script appearing as if by some invisible hand.
"What the hell...?" he whispered, barely audible, his voice swallowed by the empty hall.
His mana spiked. It was sudden—rushing through him like wildfire. What had once been the average reserves of a noble were now rising at an alarming rate, surging just below the level of royal power. His breath caught in his throat. This wasn't a gradual increase—it was like something had been unlocked, a floodgate opened inside him, letting all that energy pour through at once.
For a few seconds, Sebastian just stood there, stunned and rooted to the spot. Slowly, his trembling fingers reached for the pages of the grimoire, flipping through them. The air around him crackled with energy, the faint hum of power buzzing beneath his fingertips. Line after line of new spells filled the pages—attack spells, dozens of them, each one radiating raw, unrefined power. He blinked, his mind racing as he took in what he was seeing.
These weren't the neat, refined spells that the original Sebastian had possessed. No, these were gritty, brutal, and violent. They felt visceral, almost predatory in their design, so out of place in the grimoire of a nobleman who had been known for support magic. The original Sebastian's spells had always been composed—healing spells, defensive barriers, carefully measured utilities. There had only been a couple of attack spells, and even those had been restrained, used more for self-defense than anything else.
But these new spells? They screamed of someone else. Someone ruthless. Someone from a different life.
Sebastian's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the incantations. There was no elegance here, no careful craftsmanship. These were weapons—spells forged with the intent to destroy, to overpower. They were efficient, yes, but merciless. He could feel it in every word etched into the pages.
These spells were his.
Not the original Sebastian's, not some relic of noble upbringing, but his own—crafted from the essence of the life he'd lived before. The power behind them wasn't rooted in centuries of tradition or polished aristocracy. No, it was raw, modern, and perfectly in tune with the mindset of someone who had been thrust into this world from another.
And for the first time, Sebastian didn't feel like an intruder in this body. The grimoire had finally acknowledged him—not as a replacement, but as its true master.
A smile crept onto the corners of Sebastian's mouth as a theory began to crystallize in his mind. So that's it... The original Sebastian had been a support mage, a master of healing, barriers, and sealing spells, with only a handful of basic attack spells to his name. But he, the one now inhabiting this body, was an attack mage at heart. He had fused with Sebastian Silva, and now his own magic was starting to emerge—his grimoire responding to him as a distinct soul, unshackled from the past.
As he flipped through the pages, each spell seemed to affirm his hypothesis. The attack spells weren't just random additions; they reflected his modern sensibilities, his mindset. It all makes sense now. The reason no grimoire had chosen him earlier wasn't a lack of magic; it was because his magical attribute was already tethered to this body. His soul must have been drawn to water magic, explaining why he had ended up in the body of a water mage in the first place.
Sebastian let out a low chuckle, a wave of satisfaction and relief washing over him. He was now a perfectly balanced mage—armed with a diverse arsenal of support, defensive, and offensive spells. This new development, this awakening of his true power, likely stemmed from his realization of his own identity. Despite fusing with Sebastian Silva, he remained independent. That self-awareness had triggered his soul to awaken fully, granting him access to his own mana reserves.
"This... is probably the best outcome," he murmured, a smile spreading across his face. It wasn't some overpowered cheat like a second grimoire, but it was precisely what he needed. And it wouldn't draw attention, either, since everyone knew Sebastian had a few attack spells—even if he rarely used them. Support mages, like Mimosa, often kept offensive spells in their arsenal, even if they weren't their main focus. These gritty, brutal spells would seem like something the original Sebastian had chosen to overlook, perhaps out of pride or because they didn't fit his noble image.
Sebastian smirked, finding it perfectly aligned with his character—the noble politician who refused to dirty his hands with crude, violent magic. As for the surge in his mana, no one would notice unless he gave them a reason to. Only those with extraordinary sensitivity, like Julius or Conrad, or overly perceptive individuals like Mereoleona, would be able to sense the change. Even then, they'd need to be actively looking for it. He felt confident he could maintain the facade for a while, especially considering how nonchalant the original Sebastian had been about training.
In the world of Black Clover, dramatically increasing mana reserves through natural means was nearly impossible. However, it was entirely normal for individuals to unlock hidden potential and tap into dormant parts of their mana. The real Sebastian—a man who had never truly trained—would possess untapped reserves that could easily be explained if questioned. He could simply claim he had been training—and that wouldn't be a lie.
Feeling a sense of calm wash over him, Sebastian smiled to himself. This will work, he thought, the weight of his newfound power settling comfortably on his shoulders. He would fly under the radar, grow stronger, and bide his time until he was ready to unveil the full extent of his abilities. By the time anyone noticed, he would have laid a solid foundation, training relentlessly in the facility back at the Silva estate.
He closed his grimoire, the blue light dimming as he tucked it back into the folds of his cloak. With a satisfied smile, he turned and headed toward the exit, the soft echo of his footsteps fading as he left the Grimoire Tower behind.
Sebastian quietly eased open the heavy doors, careful to prevent them from creaking too loudly as they swung shut behind him. The cool night air wrapped around him as he stepped outside, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim starlight filtering through the forest trees. He let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting to where Dorothy leaned against the stone wall of the tower.
There she was, sound asleep, her head tilted to the side, blowing bubbles through her nose with each breath. Her pink curls danced gently in the breeze, and her face radiated a peacefulness that suggested she hadn't a care in the world. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and her legs were tucked beneath her in an awkward position. It was both endearing and exasperating to see her so relaxed, especially after everything they had just discussed.
Sebastian felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow. "This girl..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he approached her. Gently, he reached out and tapped her shoulder.
Dorothy didn't stir; there was no reaction from her except for a light snore. But like clockwork, she stood up on unsteady legs and began to follow him, her movements eerily automatic in a strange, sleepwalking daze. Her eyes remained closed as she mumbled incoherently, her feet shuffling along behind him.
Sebastian rubbed his forehead in exasperation as they trudged through the forest. He had grown accustomed to Dorothy's bizarre sleep habits, but that didn't make them any less problematic. Her narcolepsy and parasomnia were serious issues—issues that, if left unchecked, could one day cost her life. He often wondered how she managed to survive the countless battles she had faced, especially with her knack for dozing off at the worst possible moments.
It was nothing short of a miracle. A miracle that she hadn't fallen asleep during a critical fight against someone powerful enough to end her life. His mind flickered back to the future—how Dorothy had squared off against threats like Morris, Lucifero, and Damnatio. Any one of those encounters could have gone horribly wrong if she had nodded off at just the wrong moment. The chilling thought of her drifting into slumber mid-battle, only to wake up dead, sent a shiver down his spine.
How has she survived this long? he wondered grimly. Dorothy was undeniably powerful, but her body's tendency to succumb to sleep whenever it felt like it was a glaring vulnerability. Sure, she could fight while asleep, but what if she faced an enemy who could exploit that weakness? What if, in the future, she collapsed in front of someone too strong for her to handle in that state? There wouldn't be time to react. She'd die, and it would be for the stupidest reason imaginable.
Sebastian clenched his jaw at the thought. Losing Dorothy was a fate he couldn't even begin to contemplate. She had only recently become a part of his life, yet she had quickly grown precious to him—his daughter in all but blood. The very idea of attending her funeral, of having to bury her because she dozed off at the worst moment, filled him with a cold, sinking dread.
No. He couldn't let that happen. He had to find a way to help her, to protect her from this condition. Whether through magic or medicine, he needed to devise a solution. Perhaps when they returned to the Silva estate, he could collaborate with some of the best healers or researchers to find a remedy. Dorothy might have survived until now, but if they were to face the battles that lay ahead, they couldn't afford to take any chances.
He glanced back at her, still sleepwalking behind him, her head bobbing slightly as she stumbled along. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She really was something else.
"Come on, Dorothy," he murmured under his breath. "Let's get you home before you fall asleep standing up."
With that, they continued their quiet trek through the forest, the soft rustle of leaves the only sound accompanying them on their way back.
Omake:
"Father, do you think Nozel, will love me?" Dorothy asked
Sebastian clasped her shoulders, "Daughter there's something you should know about Silvas!"
"W-what is it?" Dorothy gulped meeting his dead serious eyes
"They're all tsundere's!"
"Tsundere?" Dorothy was confused
Sebastian breathed softly. "I mean, don't be surprised if Nozel ignores you, or treats you coldly, deep down he'll really like you, but is just too embarrassed to show it."
"That's...really weird. And lame" Dorothy couldn't help but say
Sebastian nodded, softly. Noelle is the best example. Solid was too shy to apologize, and Nozel didn't know how to talk to Noelle after the curse was lifted. I guess the most normal one is actually Nebra, though I just might not know her enough.
Sebastian paused deep in thought. If this runs in the family line, is Acier one too?
Authors Note:
Okay, why did this chapter take so damn long?
That is because Inkstone (Webnovel) recently published a notice, that they would be taking down AI works that violated these three fields:
1. Using AI to plagiarize other works
2. Using AI to translate and publish work that isn't yours
3. Using AI to generate ideas for you, write the work itself entirely, adding extra details and wordiness to your work, and you take credit for it.
Although I haven't violated any of those I'm not willing to take the chance. So congratulations guys I wasted so many tiring hours of my day, to edit this work entirely by myself, save for the very end as he exited the tower and thinks of Dorothy, as I couldn't feel my wrist anymore, and got sick of looking at my screen.
I know you guys who've been complaining about AI, are smug right now because that means from now on there will be no more AI, other than to fix grammar. Or if I'm just having a very bad day, and no longer care if Webnovel axe's this story.
As for Ch 1 - 12 if I ever have the energy perhaps I'll go back and rewrite them, but keep your fingers crossed as I doubt I'll ever do something like that.
If besides all this Webnovel, still takes this work down, just know you can still read this story on Fanfiction and archiveofourown.
As for this Hage arc, because of this change, there will be one more chapter, as there's one more plot point and character I want to explore in the next chapter. You guess who?
Now for the bad news. When I say bad, I mean for you, and not for me. Because of all this, I doubt I'll be able to keep a daily update streak anymore. So get ready for fewer updates in a week and lower-quality chapters.
Hip Hip Hooray.
The high moon cast its brilliant glow down on the quaint village of Hage. All its villagers had retreated into their dwellings for the night; however, the cobbled streets were not completely deserted.
The clicking of boots, echoed rhythmically, off the cobblestone, as Sebastian and Dorothy, made their way through the village. Although they walked in silence, their footsteps unconsciously grew quicker, as the midnight breeze, brought a chill to their bodies.
It was time to go home.
The sleepwalking Dorothy suddenly snapped awake, her eyes fluttering open groggily. It took her a moment of blinking, to understand her situation. She began to look around, scanning her surroundings, while rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and snapping back into focus.
A sheepish smile crept onto her face, as she awkwardly scratched her cheek, realizing she had fallen asleep once again.
Clearing her throat, she turned to the right, just now processing she was walking side by side, with her father.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" She pushed through her quavering voice and stuttering, to satisfy her curiosity.
Noticing his daughter's pause, Sebastian slowed his pace just a little for her to catch up to him, before giving her a light nod.
"Great!" And just like clockwork Dorothy's tired countenance, snapped back to her chipper mood, as she flashed him a grin of congratulations.
But that's all she did. She didn't press for more information, or details, despite her interest, as she respected his privacy. That was something Sebastian could appreciate, he already vowed not to lie to her, so if she truly insisted on knowing, he'd be pretty helpless.
In reality, telling Dorothy of his transmigration, probably wouldn't matter to the girl, that much. Because the only Sebastian she's ever known or cared for, was him, but still, he rather not broach that topic till his hand is forced. So hopefully never.
So, they just continued walking on, in sync, nearing the village outskirts as they steadily increased the distance between them and the demon skull. But soon, Dorothy's curiosity brought her to another topic, as she looked upwards to the night sky, feeling that it wasn't long till sunrise.
She furrowed her brows, and with her eyes trained forward, on the winding road, she spoke. "Why're we walking?" Dorothy was genuinely puzzled. Understanding her question was a bit vague, she elaborated. "I mean, it's getting pretty late, shouldn't we be flying back to the kingdom? It's pretty far away."
Sebastian, his eyes also facing forward, answered. "We will, but not until after we leave Hage."
Looking to the side, and seeing the confusion dancing on her face, he stifled a chuckle and explained. "Because it's very late, people are asleep. If we fly now, we might startle some people awake."
Seeing, her not really understanding, he further clarified. "Unlike the witches' forest, common realm, and noble realm there's no such thing as nightlife, here in the forsaken realm. People here greatly value their sleep, so they can wake up early to tend to their fields and crafts. It'd be quite inconsiderate for us to wake them, just to spare a few minutes."
Dorothy gave a nod of comprehension, and Sebastian briefly considered something, before adding on an afterthought. "It's also for you."
And her puzzlement was back, more bewildered than before. "For me? What do you mean?" Her brows were scrunched as she studied her father closely, focusing some mana on her eyes to better improve her vision under the dark curtain of the night.
Sebastian sighed softly, before answering her with a calm and measured tone. "The noble realm… is quite luxurious…has many nice things, and high-end stores and items…but it's also quite stuck up and stiff. Once you enter that world, your life will change, and not always for the better. I know you didn't escape one cage, just to be thrust into another, at least the witch's forest wasn't filled to the brim with folks walking with proverbial sticks up their ass."
Dorothy let out a light giggle, as Sebastian continued. "So…I thought I'd give you a chance to relish in your freedom, and relaxed peace once more. Trust me, you'll miss the days when you were free to act as you please, without having to constantly think of etiquette, decorum, how every word you speak, and action you take, can be interpreted and used against you. So, take your time, to enjoy this little walk, because you're rarely going to get chances like this in the future."
Dorothy paused briefly, before quickening her stride and dashing forward, twirling around to face Sebastian, arms tied behind her back. Her heart was filled with warmth, and she couldn't stop the grin creeping up onto her face at the consideration, nor would she want to. Smiling deeply, utterly content, her eyes closed as she spoke. "Thanks, Dad."
"Of course," Sebastian nodded stiffly and replied with a steady voice, appearing as unphased as always with his usual calm, and indifference.
Keyword appeared.
As Dorothy fell back into step beside him, he kept his eyes trained forward, not daring to look at her, because he knew his composure would fall apart. And the poised mental image he built for her, crumble along with it.
Why? Because someone just called him dad. Dad! Men are simple creatures, especially those from modern society. Nothing about Sebastian Silva's personality or memories could change his soul enough that he wouldn't be phased by that form of address.
Like many men before him, he was no exception, as he had a dad fetish. Not some weird kink, for his wife or girlfriend to call him daddy, but for his children to do so, in a purely paternal and parental manner. As of today, he is no longer just a father, but a dad too.
Silence engulfed, them once more, as they continued their walk, infinitely approaching the village exit. Sebastian kept his gaze lowered on the road, to calm his inner turmoil, when he felt a gentle elbow nudge into his ribs. It was soft and brief, but it instantly broke his reverie.
That's the third time.
Sebastian lifted his gaze to the side, to focus on Dorothy once more. He frowned heavily, intending to inform her that playful actions like these would be okay when they were alone, or inside Castle Silva, but otherwise, decorum was highly valued in the noble realm. Although he was the Patriarch of House Silva, who could bend many rules to his liking, it was also because of that he was held to a much higher standard, as a symbol of the higher classes.
Moreover, Dorothy will be facing a lot of stigma, and oppression in the future, for those who will envy her for being adopted into House Silva, and they'll use every little thing she does against her in an effort to break her spirit. So, he had to make it clear things like these, are a no-go, when in front of others.
But just as he was about to chide her, he stilled. He noticed she wasn't even looking at him. Rather he made out a serious expression on her face, eyes narrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line, as she pointed forward.
Following the direction of her finger, Sebastian was puzzled by what the fuss was. All he saw, was the Church resting on its plot like always. But then his eyes narrowed as he made out a silhouette in the distance, lurking around the church.
Channeling his mana in his eyes, in an effort to make out the figure, all he could identify was a hooded person, in a gray cloak. It was far too dark, to see anything that could give away any outstanding characteristics, he wasn't even sure of their gender.
Watching the figure moving stealthily, trying to peer inside the church through the holes in the wall, and the glass windows, Sebastian felt a churn in his stomach.
A wave of dread washed over him; his mind raced with concern. Did someone discover his donation? He instantly equated the figure to a petty thief who was after the gold he left, behind. Although that pouch was junk change for House Silva, it was enough for the average peasant family to climb the social ladder, to at least commoner status. Forget a single individual.
Sebastian didn't care much for the money; however, he knew this little gold was enough to drive the average peasant red-eyed, with greed. That desperation could make them do some pretty extreme things to get their hands on the money. This means Orsi, Yuno, and Asta could easily be put in harm's way. Especially the priest would likely be killed, to silence any reports, because only the dead can't speak.
And the Kingdom wouldn't invest much effort into investigating the perpetrator and bringing them to justice, besides putting up a vague wanted poster, that could point to anyone. Since this was a pretty common scene in the forsaken realm.
Feeling a chill run down his spine, he and Dorothy exchanged a silent glance. Regardless of just meeting a few hours ago, they had a tacit understanding of one another. No words were needed, they silently agreed to sneak up on the thief and restrain them before they could do something stupid.
But before they could make a move, the thief began to scan their surroundings as well. The thief seemed to be quite cautious, and alert, so naturally they wouldn't miss two silhouettes approaching them in the distance.
Sebastian felt the thief snap their head in their direction, and besides the darkness blackening out their face, he was quite confident their eyes locked with one another.
The thief stiffened, and without warning, spun on their heels and bolted over the crooked church fences into the forest. Their cloak billowed, behind them as they ran.
Shit! Sebastian wasn't willing to ignore them and let them get away. Thieves rarely give up, they'll just come back another day, one where he doubts, he'll be there to stop them, so he needs to settle this now.
Once more, Sebastian and Dorothy exchanged a quick glance. There was no hesitance in their response, their actions were immediate. A cloud of vibrant pink and lavender colors popped beside Dorothy and spat out a broom. She immediately hopped onto it, launching herself high into the air, with swiftness, soaring above to track the thief from the sky.
Meanwhile, Sebastian, took off on foot, coating his feet in reinforcement magic, to quicken his pace. In just a few big strides he already halved the gap, between them and entered the forest. In turn, this caused the thief to increase their speed as well, but it only slightly delayed the inevitable. Sebastian could sense the sloppy magic control, making him very confident, that they were no decent mage.
This wasn't some xianxia novel, so he didn't really have to worry about something like 'playing the pig to eat the tiger', but nonetheless he wouldn't let his guard down. Because desperate people, ready to risk it all for an opportunity are the most dangerous.
"Who are you?! What are you after?!" Sebastian demanded as he narrowed the distance further to about 11 yards. He considered just shooting them down from far away, but if they weren't that malicious, and had a good reason, he would probably regret it for life, so he tried to use words.
It was then the sprinting thief glanced back over their shoulders and broke their silence. Without breaking their stride, they yelled, "Stay away!", with a voice laced in fear.
There were a few things, about this that made Sebastian abruptly pause and stiffen. It wasn't so much the distinctly female voice. Sebastian doesn't care for gender or age, when it comes to crime, a criminal is a criminal, and no one gets a pass for having a pretty face or being young. If you're old enough to hurt, you're old enough to understand that you intend to hurt, and should be judged for it.
No there were two bigger things, that made him pause, the strangely familiar voice, the fear in her voice didn't so much as seem as if she was begging for mercy, but rather she felt scared…for him. Like she was warning him of some unseen danger. A frown furrowed his brow, as he resumed his chase but much slower this time, the distance between them widening once more, as he tried to piece together what she was trying to tell him.
Alas, it seemed not everyone is as patient as him.
Before he could voice any of his thoughts, a blur of motion shot overhead—Dorothy, high above on her broom, descending rapidly toward the figure. "Dorothy, wait!" he shouted, a note of urgency lacing his voice, but it was too late. As she neared the cloaked woman, something went awry. Dorothy suddenly lost her balance, the broom wobbling beneath her as if caught in a sudden gust of wind, and then, with a startled cry, she fell.
"Dorothy!" Sebastian screamed in worry, instinctively conjuring a water eagle to catch her. But just as Dorothy fell onto the creature, something strange happened. The water eagle trembled violently, its form breaking apart into countless droplets, failing to cushion her fall as she hit the ground hard, the sound echoing painfully in the still night air.
The cloaked figure screamed, her voice sharp with fear, and she stumbled backward, instinctively trying to put some distance between herself and the fallen girl. Yet she stopped abruptly about ten meters away, hesitating, her gaze locked onto Dorothy as she lay on the forest floor.
But once again, the fear seemed to be for Dorothy instead of herself. The cloaked woman's voice trembled as she spoke, her concern evident. "Is she alright?"
But Sebastian wasn't in the mood to respond to her right now. Sebastian rushed to Dorothy's side, his heart pounding in his chest. He knelt beside her, cradling her in his arms as he assessed the damage. "What on earth happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he began to cast healing magic over her.
Dorothy, winded and dizzy, grimaced, her face twisted in pain. "Dad," she moaned, "I—I don't know… My mana…" Her words trailed off, and he could feel her energy draining away like sand slipping through his fingers. He focused more of his mana, into her spell, bathing his daughter a brilliant ocean blue hue, trying to rapidly refill her dwindling mana reserves, with his own.
But it felt like every time he added a drop to a drying lake, someone came by and took a bucket of water out. Sebastian stiffened, the urgency of the situation hitting him like a cold wave. He resumed his spell, focusing intently on her.
Strangely, as the cloaked woman, took another step back, he could feel the drain on Dorothy's mana, stopping.
Sebastian felt a sigh of relief before a nagging feeling drew his attention back to the cloaked woman. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is your name… Richita?"
The cloaked woman trembled slightly at the sound of the name, her eyes widening with surprise. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached for her hood, pulling it back to reveal her face.
Sebastian felt his breath hitch in his throat. The woman before him was strikingly familiar—a slim figure with striking green eyes and medium-length, ash-blonde hair. A single strand protruded upwards from the center of her head, creating an uncanny resemblance to Asta.
She gazed down at Sebastian and the now-healed Dorothy, wonder etched across her features. "How do you know my name?" she asked softly.
Sebastian held her gaze for a brief moment, before gently helping Dorothy back up to her feet. The poor girl stumbled a bit, her legs unsteady, as she leaned on Sebastian for support. Her face was pale, her body weak, but she managed to stand with his help. He glanced down at her to make sure she was alright before turning his attention back to Richita.
His voice was calm but laced with curiosity and empathy as he spoke. "There's an urban legend," he began, "about a woman who lived on the outskirts of a nearby village. They say she had a unique constitution, something that caused her to drain mana and lifeforce from others around her."
Richita paused for a moment, a grimace working its way onto her face, pulling her thin lips into a deeper frown. She looked at Dorothy with a strange mix of guilt and sorrow. Her reaction was enough to affirm Sebastian's statement.
Sebastian further studied the woman, not paying much attention to the regret smeared on her face, but rather how far she was standing. He'd say about 10 meters, nearly 11 yards. Perhaps that's how far her affliction reaches, and anyone caught in that range, has their mana drained from them. That's also why she probably waited till I was that close to tell me to back off.
She probably doesn't like talking about her condition much, but the fact that we insisted on chasing her, left her with no choice.
As if reading my thoughts Richita, rubbed her right arm, and slowly and hesitatingly spoke. "My drain…reaches 8 meters…the extra two…just to be safe." She admitted quietly her voice tinged with shame.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow slightly at her response, noticing how oddly she spoke. There was a stilted, awkward quality to her speech like she wasn't used to holding a conversation. It was as if the words themselves felt foreign to her, like someone unused to social interaction. He quickly surmised that her long isolation had likely made her speech rusty, and disjointed. This might very well have been her first real conversation with another person in years.
He inwardly guessed that this stilted communication would continue—at least until the day Liebe, the devil she would later care for showed up in about four years and popped into her life. Until then, it seemed she would remain trapped in this lonely bubble, rarely speaking with anyone, always keeping her distance
Sebastian felt a deep sense of pity for the woman. Humans are creatures, reliant on social interaction, it is in our natural instincts, to pursue connections, and forge deep bonds with one another. Even introverts can only last so long locking themselves away in their rooms, and even then, at least in modern society, they have screens so they can connect with people around the world.
But to live, in this era, utterly isolated from the world for nearly their entire life, he doesn't understand how Richita survived till now. He would've long been driven insane. Perhaps only some monks or gurus could do what she's doing, but their situations are utterly different. Those guys choose this path, to cut ties with the material world, sever their karma, and pursue enlightenment, and reincarnation. They have a goal, a purpose. But she doesn't, she's had this life forced on her.
Richita rubbed her arm harder, scratching it lightly, as she peered through the gaps in the trees towards, Hage, towards the church. Guilt was written on her face, her voice uncertain. "I wasn't… I wasn't doing anything bad back at the church," she said, trying to defend herself. The weight of years spent in isolation and suspicion made her wary, even when there was no reason to be.
Sebastian quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture, his tone calm and reassuring. "I know," he said gently. "I trust you."
Those simple words seemed to reach deep into Richita. Her posture softened, her tension easing. Trust was something she hadn't felt in so long—certainly not from a stranger. Her eyes briefly flickered with emotion, but she quickly turned away. "I should probably get going," she muttered, her voice small, almost defeated. She began to walk away, her figure lonely and distant, fading into the night.
Watching her go, Sebastian felt a heaviness settle in his chest. There was something so tragically solitary about her—years of exile, of living on the fringes of society, all alone. He sighed; his voice quiet but deliberate as he called after her. "I visited the church this morning," he began, his words soft yet carrying weight. "I held a cute boy with ash-blonde hair and green eyes… who looked just like you."
Richita abruptly stopped in her tracks, her body going rigid. For a moment, she didn't move, as though the world had frozen around her.
Sebastian continued, his gaze never leaving her still form. "His name was Asta."
At the mention of her son's name, Richita trembled. Her entire frame shook violently, and though Sebastian couldn't see her face, he knew—he could feel it—she was fighting back tears. Years of separation, the pain of having to leave her child behind, all of it must have flooded back to her in an instant.
Richita wiped at her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she turned back toward them. Her red-rimmed eyes glistened in the moonlight, the raw emotion she had been holding in for so long finally bubbling to the surface. "How… how is he?" she asked, her voice trembling with both hope and fear. "How's Asta doing?"
Sebastian's expression softened, and he spoke gently, his words a balm to her aching heart. "He's doing fine. He's well cared for, loved, and perfectly healthy."
Hearing this, Richita's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by relief. "Oh, thank goodness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears streamed down her face as she sat there, her body sagging with the weight of her long-held guilt.
Dorothy felt a pang of guilt, in her chest, as she understood the woman she had pinned for a thief, had a much different goal in mind.
Sebastian looked down at the woman, who broke into a mess of tears, offering some words of solace and comfort. "The forsaken and common realms are going to be receiving a lot more money from the capital in the future," he said softly. "You won't have to worry about the church lacking the funds to care for your son."
Richita blinked through her tears, looking up at him with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. "How… how do you know that?"
Without a word, Sebastian slowly reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing his silver hair, which shimmered faintly in the moonlight. He wondered briefly if he would need to explain his lineage, considering how long she had been cut off from the world. But he didn't have to. The moment she saw the silver hair, she stilled, her eyes widening in recognition.
"You're… from House Silva," she said, the realization dawning on her. She made a small movement as if preparing to bow, instinctively falling into the customs of nobility.
Sebastian quickly waved her off, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not into those formalities," he said with a touch of humor, though inwardly, he was already beginning to dread how often this would happen when someone comprehends his identity. The constant bowing and reverence—it was going to get old really fast.
Richita paused, her uncertainty lingering, but she nodded slowly, her eyes still filled with quiet wonder.
Sebastian took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he decided to break the ice with an introduction. "I'm Sebastian Silva," he said, nodding respectfully toward Richita. With a gesture, he pointed to Dorothy standing by his side. "And this is my daughter, Dorothy Unsworth."
Richita blinked in surprise at the different names. Seeing how different they looked, she pinned Dorothy for an illegitimate daughter. Seeing Sebastian adorned in a cloak, she pinned him for a noble with many mistresses and affairs, who sneaked away to check up on a stray child of his. Well, at least he's better than many nobles out there, at least he admits she's, his daughter. I heard many nobles never acknowledge or accept their bastard children,
Sebastian was unaware Richita's opinion of him dropped so much, from a single sentence.
Dorothy, keenly aware of the tension that hung in the air, broke the awkward silence with a question of her own. "Are you sneaking around the church to see your son?" Her voice was gentle but probing, trying to penetrate the layers of Richita's sorrow.
Richita nodded slowly, her head hanging in shame. "I know I shouldn't," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just being in my presence could kill him." There was a deep-seated regret in her words, the burden of a mother's love mixed with the guilt of her actions. "That's why I steeled my resolve and gave him away." Her shoulders slumped as she continued, "But I felt so lonely. I just wanted to see him one last time. Not to dare touch him or hold him—just to get a glimpse of his face, to watch him while he sleeps."
Dorothy watched Richita, her heart aching as she noticed the woman's hands clenching and unclenching, a physical manifestation of her sorrow. There was a deep pang of pity for the mother who had sacrificed so much. Yet, within that pity also stirred a faint wave of envy. Dorothy longed for a mother who could love and yearn for her so deeply, even if it meant enduring the pain of separation.
Does Mother feel anything from my absence? It doesn't have to be longing, but at least a bit of annoyance would be nice, irked by losing a wizard with great potential.
"I don't dare enter Hage during the day," Richita explained, her voice cracking under the weight of her confession. "When people are up and about, it could risk killing them. So, I snuck in late at night, thinking I could just take a peek. I didn't think it'd cause such a huge…misunderstanding"
Sebastian and Dorothy felt a twinge of guilt and embarrassment at that. Sebastian cleared his throat and stepped forward.
"Looks like we all made a mistake, you did something risky…and the two of us were prejudiced." Pausing for a moment, he continued. "However, I don't think any of us should feel ashamed as our actions and reactions all stemmed from care and the desire to protect or shield something, or someone from something."
"Moreover, love and yearning are the rights of all humans, there's nothing to feel guilty for wanting to see your son."
Dorothy, snapping back into her playful spirit, echoed her father's sentiment with a light-hearted nod. "Yeah! It's okay to want to see your kid! We all want to feel connected, right?" Her innocent enthusiasm was infectious and broke the tense atmosphere.
Richita looked at them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gratitude shone through the layers of her sorrow, a fragile smile forming on her lips. "Thank you," she said, her voice steady yet filled with emotion.
As the woman, began to slowly stand, Sebastian regarded Richita with a curious intensity and voiced a question dancing in his mind.
"What's your last name?" he asked, his tone gentle yet insistent.
Richita blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Why do you want to know?" she replied, her brows knitting together in confusion.
Sebastian's expression softened as he explained. "I'll stop by the church and tell its priest. He can add it to Asta's name."
The words hung in the air, and Richita furrowed her brow, still unsure of his reasoning. "Why would you do that?"
"Because" Sebastian continued, "although you might not think of it, it could mean the world to Asta. Just knowing that somewhere out there, he has a place of origin, a family, a bloodline. For a boy born with nothing, raised with very little, something as simple as a full name could make all the difference."
Richita paused, her mind racing. She hadn't considered it from that perspective before. "I never thought about it that way," she admitted slowly, her gaze drifting to the ground. "But maybe it's better this way. If Asta knew he was abandoned by a living family, it could break him even more. He should just be Asta, start his life from there, and make his own family."
Sebastian shook his head, a hint of firmness creeping into his voice. "That's a decision the boy should be allowed to make for himself when he grows older. When he fully understands the significance of having a last name."
In his past life, after his parents passed away, and he and his younger sister were sent to an orphanage, he experienced firsthand the envy of some kids, for having something as simple as a first name. He never really valued it himself, until he watched some kids invest so many hours, naming themselves. It gave them a sense a belonging.
He'll never forget the way some of his fellow orphans, lit up, when the director said they can share his name. Although he never cared for it, it obviously meant the world to them.
Richita took a deep breath, her mind turning over his words. After a moment, she nodded, a sense of resolution washing over her. "My last name is Staria," she said quietly, the name slipping from her lips like a secret finally set free. [1]
Sebastian nodded in acknowledgment, feeling like he got an answer to a long-debated mystery. Too bad I don't have any Wi-Fi, those subreddits would go crazy. "What about Asta's date of birth?" he asked, keen to gather as much information as he could, and add it to the boy's portfolio.
"October 3rd, 1618," Richita replied, her voice steady but tinged with emotion.
Sebastian's heart sank momentarily as he absorbed that detail. He nodded, but internally, he was shocked. Asta had been left at the church on October 4th, meaning Richita had forced herself to stand up and travel a vast distance on foot almost immediately after giving birth. The realization struck him like a thunderbolt.
Even if this is a world of magic, where people have much more resilient and powerful physiques, for her to pull that off, was nothing short of insane. Moreover, Richita is no decent mage, her magic aside, she's probably not stronger than the average woman her age, from his world.
Richita felt an awkward wave of discomfort, seeing Sebastian study her closer, narrowing his eyes. Did I say something, wrong? Did I anger him? She was well aware of the fickle nature of many nobles, she feared that she had done something to upset him.
Richita was just about to turn around once more when Sebastian called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. "Wait," he said, his voice firm yet gentle.
To her astonishment, he tossed her a sleek device that glimmered in the moonlight. Richita fumbled to catch it, her fingers trembling as she held it up, staring in disbelief. She had never seen anything like it, let alone held one. "What is this?" she asked, bewildered.
Sebastian smiled softly, watching her reaction. "It's a magic transponder," he explained. "A communication device. You can use it to talk to someone far away."
Richita's eyes widened as she examined the gem embedded in the device, its polished surface reflecting the moon's silvery glow. The realization struck her like a wave crashing against the shore. This tiny object was worth more than everything she owned. "But… why are you giving this to me?" she asked, still struggling to comprehend the gesture.
"Because" Sebastian said, his tone earnest, "even if you may never be able to see Asta face to face, that's no reason why you can't hear each other's voices."
At his words, Richita stiffened, a tremor running through her body. She felt herself tearing up at the unexpected kindness. It was more than she could ever ask for. More than she would ever dare ask for. Up till now, everyone in her life had avoided her like the plague, well except that man. When her magic awakened at 5 years old, her parents hadn't hesitated to kick her out, only leaving her with the clothes she wore on her back.
Her uncle thought, secretly tossed her a dagger from afar, and told her about a place in the forest where there were little magic beasts, and a stream nearby with clean drinking water and fish to catch. A place she would later call home.
That was the only kindness she'd ever received in life. Yet now here, someone here was someone she never met, casually giving her a ticket back into her son's life.
Richita Staria wanted to know why.
Sebastian continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'll give another device connected directly to the church for Asta's use. I'll explain it to the priest so he can help facilitate your conversations. Moreover, I'll hire a painter to create monthly portraits of Asta. They'll be left at an agreed-upon location for you to pick up, so you'll always know what your son looks like and how he changes."
Tears began to flow unbidden down Richita's cheeks as the reality of his offer sank in. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me."
Sebastian nodded indifferently, inwardly deep in thought. He had given her his transponder and not asked for Dorothy's because that was the first thing he's ever given her. It might be an easily replaceable gift for someone of his wealth, but Dorothy might already have a strange sentimental attachment to it.
Although it would be easier and less work to ask Dorothy to hand her over to Orsi, since they were directly connected already, he would just have to return to the noble realm and get a new one instead, to give to the priest.
He's not so lazy to take something back from his daughter, just to avoid an additional trip. He hasn't sunk that low yet.
Breaking the silence, Richita looked at Sebastian with a mixture of confusion and gratitude. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to understand his motives.
Sebastian shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the complexities swirling in his mind. "Asta's a cute kid," he replied, his voice light but sincere. "He deserves to have a mother in his life. Even in a different form. That's what any child should have."
Richita might have been thankful, but Sebastian didn't think he'd done any worthy of gratitude. It might have been grand from her viewpoint, but to him, it was worthless. It's just a pair of transponders, he wanted a better one anyway. When he gets home, he'll have a slicker custom mage, perhaps a wearable one like a bracelet, or headphones, maybe even a chain. Anything that doesn't look like an antique microphone.
No, if Sebastian Silva was a good person he would've told Richita she didn't have to stay away from Asta, because he has no magic, no mana, to drain to begin with.
So why didn't he? Well for a bunch of small vain reasons, and one good one. I guess the biggest reason is the plot. Asta would not be Asta, and Yuno would not be Yuno if they didn't grow up together.
They are one another's deepest motivation, and rivals, that push one another to be stronger, kinder people. Richita can care for Asta, but that's it. She won't be able to enter the village and be around other people, which would in turn cause Asta to have to grow up isolated as well. So, no Yuno in his life and no sister Lily to tell him the story of the wizard king.
Richita could but it wouldn't have the same effect, because Asta growing up isolated, with a caring mother, wouldn't know what it was like to be bullied, and oppressed for his social class. Richita could tell him, but it would only be words, that wouldn't hit the same, as experiencing it firsthand.
No Asta would go through his childhood, the most impressionable years of his life, that would shape him, as a kid, who was not aware in the least of the dark reality that is the Clover Kingdom. He likely wouldn't have the same resolve to be Wizard King. And he wouldn't inspire Yuno to have that goal either.
Yuno and Asta might still make it to Kikka to become Magic Knights, but they wouldn't be the same people. Their growth would be a lot slower, which would mean that forget Lucius, we would probably tap out when faced with Lucifero, maybe even the Dark Triad.
Now what is the big reason? Well, it's Liebe, knowing the kind of people Asta and Richita are they wouldn't hesitate to add the devil to their family. Which is sweet and all, but oh so dangerous.
When Lucifero possesses Liebe, an utterly magicless and defenseless but brave Asta would try to intervene and save his brother only to join his mother as a corpse.
After that Liebe can curse this world for centuries, gaining enough Anti Magic to engulf the world, but it'd be pointless and no threat to Lucius if there was no one out there able to channel that power and use it against him. And the only other person who could is at the other end of the world.
And that's a future Sebastian is not willing to see. He can change many things in this life, and take many risks, but playing with people's lives, people that he has greatly admired is not one of them.
Asta cannot, Asta should not die unless it's of old age, surrounded by family and loved ones. Especially so miserably before even getting a chance to discover his dream and passion.
For the sake of the story he envisioned, Asta needed to grow up in Hage, enduring hardships without a loving mother. He needed to find strength within himself, surrounded by a caring but imperfect family. Living under the protective wing of a devoted mother might spoil that vital process.
For now, he'll just have to settle, for his mother's voice. For now. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, further.
Richita's situation is an affliction, not a curse, meaning that the Agrippa method to turn a curse into power, will not work here. However, her illness is very similar to a curse that plagues a certain slow-speaking, boy.
If I can guide Nathan to treat Henry, then he may have some inspiration to cure Richita. Perhaps even turning her illness into strength so when Lucifero does possess Liebe, she can handle the situation more effectively, without having to lose her life in the process and seal Liebe away to save him.
As for Anti-Magic, he'll just have to find another way to traumatize Liebe, make him curse everything, and guide him into being Asta's partner.
Sebastian rubbed his eyebrows in exhaustion. It felt like every time, he knocked something off his list, something else was added. Hire the Agrippas and Faust? Check. Now you have to support Conrad in some societal reforms. Find Dorothy Unsworth? Check. Now you'll have to explain to your family in a few hours why did you return with a fiancée for the eldest son. Get a power-up? Check. Now you have to figure out how you're going to change three fates, without messing up the future too badly, and accidentally ridding the world of the Big Bad Boss's greatest threat. Oh, and I also still have to uncurse my wife, stop some extremist loyalists from turning this timeline into an Injustice rehash, and maybe replace the reigning monarch without staging a bloody coup.
Sebastian Silva was tired. Dead tired. He literally hasn't slept a wink in over 48 hours and hasn't eaten much of anything either. One doesn't really have an appetite when your wife looks like a corpse. He was literally running on fumes and adrenaline, right now.
But many of these things were his choice. No one forced him to do it. So, he'll just have to live with the price that comes with his decisions. The plus side is, unlike the other urgent tasks, this one at least has 5 years to be addressed, so he can take it slowly. Just a bit. Sebastian didn't dare raise a flag.
"It's time for us to leave," he announced, turning to Richita with a gentle nod.
Richita nodded appreciatively, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Thank you, Sebastian. Thank you both," she said, her voice thick with emotion.
"Take care Ms. Richita, I'll come visit you sometime!" Dorothy beamed, with her typical cheerful youth, before picking up her broom once more.
Just as she was about to hop on, she felt her father's hand clamp on her shoulder. Turning to face him, she was met with his impassive gaze.
"No more magic for you young lady, till your reserves are fully replenished. Understand?" He voiced it like a question, but his tone made it clear it was a command.
Dorothy seemed to pick up on that, so all she did was pout cutely, before nodding her head.
Sebastian was satisfied, his grimoire floated before him, and he cast his spell once more. Water Creation Magic: Sea Eagle. Just like a moment ago, an eagle of water materialized in front of them, this time not falling apart shortly after manifesting.
It landed on the ground, bending its back for Dorothy and Sebastian to step on. After ensuring Dorothy was secure, they gave Richita one last wave, for the eagle soared through the night sky, its flight steady, as they headed back to the capital.
Standing on the eagle's back, Sebastian began to think, that maybe instead of portraits he should just have some magic projection tools gifted to Richita and the Church. That way the mother and son, can communicate from afar, like a Zoom call. He nodded thinking it was a good idea. But it's not something he'd personally have to do. After all, what's the point of having a loyal butler, if you won't use him?
Author's Notes:
[1] Staria is Asta's last name, from the original Black Clover one-shot. You might see it used often in fanfiction
[2] There first ever chapter made with zero AI, whatsoever
Omake:
Studying Richita closely, there was one more question on his mind, that he was hesitant to voice.
"What is it?" Richita asked calmly, this man had given her so much, it's only right to give something in return.
Sebastian cleared his throat, trying to ignore his daughter beside him, he then spoke. "How…did you become pregnant with Asta?"
Richita, looked at him in confusion, he has a daughter and a noble education, surely, he knows how reproduction works, right?
Sebastian scratched his neck awkwardly, grit his teeth, and went on. "No…I mean how did you get pregnant? I mean, your curse kills anyone in an 8-meter range right, so how were you able to "do it", with someone?"
Seeing Richita flush her cheeks, Sebastian pressed on. "Like are you of virgin birth or something? I doubt it. But otherwise, how could this work? Like was some guy so into you that he didn't care about dying and decided you know 'get busy', with you regardless. And was he so down bad, for you, that he could finish inside, in under a minute? Like cause I'm pretty sure that's the longest he could last, before dying?"
"I guess what I'm trying to say who is Asta's father? And where is he buried?"
Richita paused, her flush was broken, and her face turned black, she gave him a smile that wasn't a smile, and started walking forward. All her gratitude was lost.
"W-wait s-stay back! Ahhh-"
The Next Day:
A paper boy is seen throwing some newspapers around the kingdom, and people madly competing to get a copy.
"Extra Extra, the Clover Times! Get your copy!"
He began reading out some lines, to attract more attention.
"Sebastian Silva, Patriarch of the Silva Family, dies of mysterious origins. "
"One purple-haired, eyewitness says, Dad has a loose mouth and got what was coming to him!"
"In related news, Sebastian Silva also has a bastard love child!"
Although it wasn't how he intended, that day Sebastian Silva made a name for himself, that would go down in history.
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