Unduh Aplikasi
8.88% Reborn As Papa Silva / Chapter 8: The Two of Them

Bab 8: The Two of Them

As the golden hues of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting warm, fading light across the room, Sebastian stood beside Acier, who was now fully clothed. The two exchanged final pleasantries with the Agrippa and Faust couples. The day had been long, filled with discussions, plans, and cautious optimism. Yet, there was a palpable sense of unease as they all prepared to part ways for the night.

Acier, whose strength was slowly returning but still fragile, sat with Sebastian by her bedside, her eyes steady but her body still betraying the toll the recent events had taken. Draven, ever the enigmatic presence, waved his hand, causing a shadowy portal to swirl open on the wall behind him. It rippled like ink in water, dark and foreboding.

"We'll meet every day," Sebastian declared, his voice calm but firm. "From ten to eleven in the morning and again from three to five in the afternoon. We need to reconvene, discuss our research, and monitor Acier's and Nozel's conditions. These are delicate times. We can't afford to lose track of the next steps in their treatment."

The Agrippa couple nodded in agreement. Their worry was visible in their furrowed brows, but they said nothing more, understanding the weight of the situation. With a last glance at Acier, they stepped into the shadow portal, vanishing into its depths. Lilith, from the Fausts, followed soon after, her eyes lingering on Sebastian before disappearing into the dark passage.

Draven, standing at the edge of the portal, prepared to follow his wife, but just as he was about to step through, Sebastian reached out, stopping him mid-motion.

"Wait," Sebastian said, his tone holding a subtle edge.

Draven turned, a quizzical eyebrow raised. "Why?" he asked, his voice low and steady, not accustomed to being questioned or delayed.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, and after a pause, he spoke with a cryptic warning. "Nacht may be talented, but he's too young—too reckless—to tame a supreme devil. It's dangerous, more than you know."

Draven's expression didn't change, but inwardly, he froze. Sebastian knew about Lucifugus, the devil they had been trying to subdue. But then again, Sebastian seemed to know everything, even the things that should've been hidden deep within the Faust family's dark dealings.

Draven's eyes grew sharp, his gaze like steel. "I know my limits," he responded coolly, his voice dripping with indifference. With a curt nod, he stepped into the swirling darkness, the portal snapping shut behind him before Sebastian could utter another word.

For a moment, Sebastian stood there, staring at the now-blank wall, wondering if Draven truly understood the danger. He sighed softly, his thoughts swirling. "Does he really get it?" he muttered to himself.

Finally, he turned around. The room had grown quieter, the remaining light dimming as night fully took hold. On the bed, Acier sat up, her form still delicate but her resolve visible in the way she held herself.

Now, it was just the two of them, alone.

As the room grew quiet, the absence of two key figures tugged at Sebastian's mind. He glanced toward the now-closed portal and then around the empty room. "Where are Nozel and Mereoleona?" he wondered aloud, frowning slightly.

Acier, still seated on the bed, smiled softly at his concern, her voice gentle but amused. "Nozel took Noelle to the maids so she could sleep peacefully. He's been away for a while, so he decided to return to the Silver Eagles. Took on a mission, I hear." She paused, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. "He needs to vent some stress."

Sebastian nodded, understanding Nozel's desire to dive back into his work. It was, after all, a common coping mechanism. But before he could dwell too much on Nozel, Acier continued. "As for Mereoleona, she left to head home for a bit. Preparing before she goes off to the grand magic zones again for training. She's always pushing herself."

Sebastian's brow furrowed at that. "That woman can't stay put," he muttered under his breath, a touch of frustration in his tone. There were still things he wanted to request of her. Mereoleona's strength and ferocity were legendary, and he had hoped she might give him some advice—or better yet, train him. He wanted to spar with her, test the gap between their strengths. Despite the memories he'd gained after transmigrating into Sebastian's body, he couldn't fully trust them. Sebastian, as he had come to know, was arrogant, blind to his weaknesses and his place in the world, much like many of the Clover Kingdom's nobles and royals.

Acier, catching the drift of his thoughts, smiled knowingly. "Mereoleona took one of our communication transponders," she said, breaking through his musings. "If we need her, we can reach out. No need to send another risky letter and expose ourselves."

Her words brought a hint of relief to Sebastian, though he kept his expression composed. Acier continued, her voice calm and reassuring. "Granted, the chaotic mana in some of the grand magic zones might interfere with the signal. But at least we won't have to worry about the distance. The magic communication tools we use are the best this kingdom has to offer."

Sebastian exhaled, feeling the weight of that reassurance settle in. His memories, though tainted by the arrogance of the previous Sebastian, allowed him to gauge the truth in Acier's words. The tools they possessed were indeed of the highest quality. And if Mereoleona had one of them, he knew she could be contacted when the need arose.

"Good," he said, nodding. "That eases my mind a little." But inwardly, he couldn't help but wish he had the chance to face her, to spar and get a real sense of his standing. Despite the memories, he needed to feel it for himself—to know exactly where he fit in this world of immense power.

As the room settled into a quiet lull, Acier shifted the conversation, her curiosity evident in her tone. "Why those specific times for the meetings?" she asked, breaking the silence.

Sebastian, still standing near the window, turned to her, his expression calm and measured. "It would be too suspicious if Solid and Nebra were constantly absent from the Silva estate while their mother is supposedly on her deathbed. The last thing we need is someone poking around. So, I'll summon them myself during their royal etiquette and magic lesson times. That way, they won't know about your or Nozel's situation, and they won't accidentally let something slip to the wrong person."

Acier listened, her face thoughtful, but she couldn't help adding, "You really think they'll be in the mood to attend lessons? They're going to be worried, thinking I could die at any moment."

Sebastian shrugged with a detached air. "I'll just order them to attend. As long as you and Nozel don't back them up, they won't have the courage to defy me." His voice carried that familiar coldness—the one that matched the cruel persona he'd built over the years.

Acier frowned slightly, tilting her head as she studied him. "Won't that be just as suspicious?" she questioned, her voice filled with concern.

Shaking his head, Sebastian responded firmly. "No. It's perfectly in line with the reputation I've earned. Everyone expects me to be ruthless, to be indifferent to even my own family's suffering. No one will question it."

There was a brief silence as Acier considered his words. She didn't deny it. His reputation had long been established as one of mercilessness, and this would fall right into line with that image. Still, a part of her ached at the thought of how much it cost him—and their family.

"But," she warned softly, her voice steady, "Nebra and Solid never cared much for you before. If you go through with this, they'll probably hate you with a passion."

Sebastian shrugged again, as if their hatred meant little to him. "I'll find a way to make it up to them once you're better. And if I can't... well, I'll just live with it. I don't care who hates me, as long as my family is safe."

Acier's gaze softened as she looked at him, her voice quieter when she asked, "Even if that someone is Noelle?"

Without hesitation, Sebastian nodded. "Even Noelle," he replied firmly, his resolve clear.

A beat passed before Acier's next question, her voice tinged with both curiosity and a quiet intensity. "And what if that someone is me?"

Sebastian's eyes flickered, but his response came swiftly. "That's not a matter of 'if.' You already hate me."

Acier didn't argue. She turned her gaze toward the window, her expression pensive as she stared into the deepening night. "The wounds you've inflicted on this family will take time to heal. And some of them... Nozel, Nebra, Solid... me... they may never fully recover from the scars you've left behind."

Sebastian nodded solemnly, accepting the truth in her words. "That's my sin to bear," he admitted, his voice low. "But as long as you don't shut me out of your lives completely, that's all I can ask for."

There was a long pause, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air between them. Then Acier turned back to him, her smile soft but filled with a quiet strength. "Just don't take Noelle for granted," she said gently. "She's the only one you haven't hurt yet. You weren't there for me, or for Nozel, Nebra, and Solid. But with Noelle… you still have a chance. You can be more than just a father to her. You can be a dad."

Sebastian's expression flickered, her words hitting him harder than he cared to admit. He paused, as if weighing the promise he was about to make. Then, with quiet determination, he said, "I'll do my best."

Acier's smile lingered, a mixture of hope and sadness, as she nodded. There was no need for further words; they both knew the weight of what lay ahead. For now, the silence between them felt less like a gulf and more like an unspoken understanding, one born from shared pain but also from the possibility of healing.

As Sebastian stood in the quiet room, his mind began to churn, reflecting on the softness he had shown in the past few moments. This was fine behind closed doors, or in front of those they could trust explicitly, like the Agrippas and Fausts. But to show any vulnerability in front of others, especially prying eyes, would raise far too many eyebrows and draw dangerous attention. Attention that could jeopardize Acier's treatment and recovery.

His gaze shifted downward, settling on Acier, who was now resting more comfortably. He steeled his resolve, pushing aside any lingering tenderness in his expression. His voice, steady and firm, broke the silence. "I'm going to continue treating you and the children indifferently—like garbage—in front of others," he stated with cold conviction, his eyes hardening. "It's a mask I have to wear."

Acier's eyes flickered with understanding, though a shadow of sadness crossed her face. "Is it really worth it?" she asked, her voice soft yet piercing. "Playing the role of the bad guy, drawing all the ire toward yourself, just to keep attention away from me?"

Sebastian didn't hesitate. "Yes," he replied firmly. "It's worth it."

A dramatic pause filled the room, thick with the weight of his decision. The silence between them stretched on, but there was an unspoken understanding, a shared burden they were both silently carrying.

After a moment, Acier spoke again, her voice gentle but unwavering. "You won't have to justify your actions to me in the future," she said, her eyes locking with his. "I have faith that, from now on, the only thing that will be a lie is your cruelty—not your love like before."

Sebastian stiffened at her words, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt wash over him. He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of gratitude. Her faith in him was like a tether in the storm, something to hold onto even as he prepared to continue playing the villain for the world's sake.

Acier's expression grew more complex, a mixture of emotions flitting across her face. She hesitated before speaking again, her voice quieter, more introspective. "There's something I want to talk to you about," she said, her gaze shifting to the window. "But… after I get better."

Sebastian frowned slightly, questioning why they had to wait. "We're alone now," he replied, his tone more curious than demanding. "If it's on your mind, just say it. What's stopping you?"

But Acier shook her head, her resolve firm. "No, not yet," she insisted. "I need time. Time to gather my thoughts, to really understand what I want to say. When I'm ready, I'll tell you."

Sebastian nodded, outwardly indifferent, but inwardly, his thoughts began to churn once more. He could tell that whatever Acier had to say wasn't going to be simple. It would be heavy—a conversation that would demand more than just cold logic or indifferent answers. He knew he had to prepare himself for it, to be ready for whatever truth she would eventually lay bare.

Sebastian let out a slow breath, canceling the protective barrier that had been engulfing the room. His cold exterior softened for a brief moment as he turned to Acier. "I'll be back in a moment," he said, his voice low. "I just need to take care of something first."

Before Acier could respond, there was a knock at the door. Sebastian's expression immediately sharpened, his regal mask snapping back into place as the door creaked open without waiting for an invitation. He barely had time to compose himself.

A maid stepped in, rolling a trolley of food. "It's time for Lady Acier to eat," she said, her voice faltering as she glanced up. Her eyes widened the moment she saw Sebastian standing there, the temperature of the room seeming to drop instantly. She stiffened, then immediately bowed deeply. "My lord," she stammered, her voice trembling.

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, cold and cutting. "Leave the trolley," he ordered, his tone void of warmth. "And be gone."

The maid's face paled, her hands shaking as she fumbled with the cart. She was about to obey when Sebastian's voice cut through the air once more, even icier than before.

"And listen carefully," he warned, his gaze piercing. "If I hear so much as a whisper about my presence here at this villa or in this room, I will make sure you regret it."

The maid visibly trembled, her breath catching in her throat. Sweat beaded at her temples as she clutched the handle of the trolley.

"I will be watching," Sebastian continued, his voice steady and menacing. "There is very little that can happen in Castle Silva without me knowing. You would do well to remember that."

The maid nearly collapsed under the weight of his words, barely managing to choke out, "I wouldn't dare, my lord," before scrambling out of the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

As she fled down the hallway, Acier frowned slightly, her gaze following the door before turning back to Sebastian. "You didn't have to be so harsh on the poor girl," she said gently, her tone carrying just a hint of reproach.

Sebastian shrugged, his expression unbothered. "Servants like her tend to gossip," he replied, his tone colder than before. "The last thing we need is for word to spread. People like that only remember their place when you remind them."

He walked over to the trolley, grabbed it with ease, and rolled it to Acier's bedside. "At the end of the day, she's a servant. And what master keeps a servant who complicates their life instead of being useful?"

Acier hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. She knew there was some truth to his words, though she still didn't entirely agree with his harshness. But for now, she said nothing more. As Sebastian positioned the trolley beside her, there was a tension lingering in the air—an unspoken understanding that sometimes cruelty was a tool, even if neither of them liked it.

Sebastian's eyes softened briefly as he looked at her, though his mask remained firmly in place. For now, appearances had to be maintained, no matter the cost.

Sebastian lifted the silver tray cover, revealing a platter of delicate sweets, tarts, pastries, and other sugary treats. His frown deepened immediately, an expression of pure disapproval etched on his face. The sight was almost offensive.

Acier noticed his reaction and raised a brow. "What's wrong?"

"There's little wonder you're not in the mood to eat if this is what they're trying to force down your throat," Sebastian remarked, his tone dripping with disdain. He glanced at her frail figure, so thin she looked nearly anorexic, and his expression hardened. "You need protein, fats, carbohydrates, fruits, vegetables, high-calorie meals, and vitamin supplements. Not this junk food and sugary nonsense."

Acier blinked at him, puzzled. "Protein? Carbohydrates?" She furrowed her brows at the unfamiliar terms.

Sebastian didn't bother to respond, his mind already elsewhere. His eyes darkened as he stared at the offending tray. It's time to replace the kitchen staff, he thought, irritated. They clearly lack the common sense to understand her condition.

"Did any of your doctors prescribe a meal plan?" he asked suddenly, his tone sharp.

Acier shook her head, confusion still written on her face. "No, they haven't."

Sebastian's frown deepened. He remained silent for a moment, inwardly lamenting the state of health knowledge in this world. Even though this was a world of magic, it was practically medieval in every other sense. Their understanding of nutrition and science was severely lacking, to say the least. He made a mental note to design a proper meal plan for Acier himself, something that could actually help her recover. Once that was done, Alfred would make sure the new kitchen staff followed it to the letter.

With a sigh, Sebastian resigned himself to the current meal. "You'll just have to bear with this for one more day," he muttered, picking up a spoon and scooping up a piece of strawberry cake. He held it in front of her, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "Didn't you want me to feed you?"

Acier blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing lightly as she opened her mouth to take a bite. The sweet taste lingered, but it took her a long time to swallow. She hadn't eaten much in so long that her body had almost forgotten the sensation.

Sebastian said nothing, keeping up the steady rhythm of feeding her. Spoon to mouth, chew, swallow. The silence between them was punctuated by the soft clink of the spoon against the plate as he fed her bite after bite of the cake.

After finishing just one slice, Acier held up a hand, her voice soft. "No more. I'm full."

Sebastian frowned, about to chide her for stopping so soon, but then paused, remembering that it was dangerous to push too much food on someone who had been starved for so long. Her insides were weak, fragile even. Overloading her with food now could cause serious harm.

He let out a dark chuckle at the twisted thought that crept into his mind. I'd be very sad if Acier Silva survived a year of being plagued by a supreme devil's curse, only to die of indigestion and refeeding syndrome.

Shaking his head, Sebastian nodded and set the spoon down. He recovered the tray and pushed the trolley away slightly before taking a seat at her bedside. His eyes softened as he looked at her, but he kept his tone casual, as though the moment was nothing special.

Sebastian glanced at Acier, her frail form still lying in bed, and he could sense her exhaustion even though she tried to hide it behind her stoic expression. He took a deep breath and said softly, "Lie down, Acier. It's time for your daily healing treatment."

Acier nodded, allowing him to help her ease back onto the bed, but as she settled, she glanced at him with a faint look of curiosity. "Didn't you say you had something else to do?"

Sebastian shook his head, his expression resolute. "It can wait. You're more important right now."

She looked away, pretending to be indifferent, but her heart betrayed her, starting to beat faster at his words. She could feel something warm and unfamiliar stirring within her, but she wasn't sure what to make of it.

Sebastian's grimoire floated beside him, its pages glowing as he activated his spell. "Water Recovery Magic: Blessed Bath of Heavenly Healing." The air around them shimmered with magic as a cocoon of pure, radiant water formed around Acier. It was a strange sensation—the water enveloped her completely, yet it didn't make her wet or restrict her breathing. Instead, it gently seeped into her body, like a comforting embrace, flowing through her veins and soothing the deep aches she had been living with for months.

For three long hours, Sebastian poured every ounce of mana he had into the spell, his face etched with focus and concentration. The water's healing energy worked wonders, slowly but surely alleviating Acier's pain, mending what the curse had torn apart. By the time he finally released the spell, his body was drenched in sweat, and his limbs felt heavy. He slumped into the chair beside the bed, completely spent, his chest rising and falling with deep, exhausted breaths.

Acier stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. She blinked, feeling... lighter. The constant, crushing pain had subsided, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she could sit up on her own. Looking at Sebastian, gratitude filled her heart. "I feel... so much better," she whispered softly.

Sebastian glanced at her, offering a tired but satisfied smile. "Good. That's what matters."

With trembling legs, Acier slowly stood from the bed. Her body felt foreign—weak and unsteady—but the pain was gone. She took a cautious step toward him, her movements wobbly and unsure. Sebastian watched her closely, and when she stumbled, he immediately shot up, catching her before she could fall.

"Careful," he said softly, his hands steadying her. "You haven't walked in over a month. Your body isn't used to it anymore."

It was only then that he realized how close they were—her face mere inches from his, her breath warm against his skin. His throat went dry, and he awkwardly gulped, trying to create some distance between them. He gently kept her at arm's length, just enough to provide support without crossing that invisible line.

Acier stuttered out a soft, awkward, "Thank you." She reached for his shoulder, leaning on him for support as they slowly began to walk around the room together. Each step was hesitant at first, but with every minute, her movements became more natural, her balance returning as she adjusted to using her legs again.

For five minutes, they moved together in silence, her hand resting on his shoulder as he guided her. There was a quiet intimacy to it, a moment that felt heavier than either of them expected. When Acier finally managed to walk on her own, Sebastian let her go, watching as she took cautious steps without his help.

But inwardly, he felt a pang of regret. As much as he was proud to see her recover, part of him wished that moment—the closeness, the shared warmth—could've lasted just a little longer.

As Acier stepped out onto her patio balcony, the cool night air greeted her with a gentle embrace. She leaned against the railing, closing her eyes for a moment to soak in the quiet and the distant sound of rustling leaves. It was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that had dominated her life for so long. Sebastian followed her, standing quietly beside her, his presence both calming and reassuring.

The moonlight bathed the landscape in soft, silvery hues, casting long shadows over the villa grounds. Sebastian, his gaze lingering on the horizon, broke the silence. "You know," he said softly, "it's only during moments like these—when no one's watching—that you can truly be yourself."

Acier sighed, the sound barely more than a breath. "I know," she replied, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness.

Sebastian turned his head to glance at her. "You shouldn't let anyone know you're getting better," he said, his tone firm but careful. "Tomorrow, I'll ask Lilith to cast another illusion over you. You'll still appear sick—worse, even. Like you're nearing death."

Acier frowned but didn't look at him. Her eyes stayed on the darkened landscape, her fingers tightening slightly on the cold iron of the railing. "I understand," she whispered, though the words felt heavy in her chest.

Sebastian continued, his mind already spinning with plans. "I'll reduce the patrols around your villa. No need to draw attention. I'll alternate with Alfred and Nozel to deliver your meals. That way, you can move around more freely, spend more time out of bed without anyone knowing."

She finally turned to face him, her expression softening. For the first time in a while, she gave him a genuine, beautiful smile, one that caught him off guard. "Thank you," she said, her voice gentle.

Sebastian felt his face heat up, and he awkwardly gulped, nodding in response. He looked away quickly, pretending to admire the view, trying to mask the slight blush creeping up his cheeks. The tension between them hung in the air, and for a brief moment, neither of them knew what to say next.

Just then, a soft buzzing sound broke the silence. Sebastian's magic transponder lit up, its glow pulling him back into the moment. He pressed his hand to the device, his voice cool and composed. "Yes, Alfred?"

The voice of the Silva Head Butler came through the line, calm and precise as always. "My Lord, I've found her."

Sebastian blinked in surprise, his mind racing to catch up. He hadn't expected results so soon. Alfred's efficiency was nothing short of remarkable. "Already?" he asked, amazement slipping into his voice despite himself.

"Yes, My Lord," Alfred confirmed.

Sebastian stood there for a moment, processing the news. He glanced at Acier, who had turned her gaze back to the night sky, unaware of the sudden turn in his thoughts. Alfred's discovery could mean a shift in their plans—another variable to account for. But for now, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.

"Well done," he said into the transponder, his voice now carrying the weight of new possibilities.


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
hmak27230 hmak27230

One more exam, this monday, so probably no update this weekend.

Bab 9: Hage (1)

The early morning sun filtered through the heavy fog that lingered over the forsaken realm, casting a dim glow over the rugged landscape. Sebastian's boots crunched softly against the dirt road as he walked, the faint outlines of a small village just starting to take shape in the distance. His cloak, a light brown that blended with the earthy tones of the village outskirts, swayed gently with each step. It was a far cry from the rich, flowing attire typical of the Silva family, but Sebastian had made sure to swap out his usual ensemble for something less conspicuous.

Hage, the forsaken village nestled between jagged hills, was where his journey had led him. It was a place the former Sebastian had only heard of in passing—an impoverished, overlooked corner of the kingdom. Yet, despite the unfamiliar terrain and lackluster atmosphere, there was a purpose to his presence here.

As he walked, Sebastian's thoughts drifted to the conversation he'd had with Alfred the night before. They had spoken late into the evening, Alfred's voice full of its usual quiet authority as he shared the news. Word had spread of a peculiar figure expected to attend the grimoire acceptance ceremony in Hage today: a witch, rumored to possess dream magic, a rare and elusive gift. She was said to wear a pink hat and to be perpetually sleepy, which piqued Sebastian's attention. Even though it might be a while before Dorothy can pull off Glamour World, she's still super valuable. She's one of the few who can dodge Megicula's detection and cut ties with those pesky curses tied to her name. Without her, any treatment for Acier and Nozel would be impossible without Megicula catching on.

Alfred had been certain of the witch's arrival, and that certainty had pushed Sebastian to make the decision to leave the Noble realm earlier than planned. The distance between the forsaken realm and the noble estates was considerable, so he'd parted ways with Acier right after their conversation. Acier had tried to convince him to stay, to wait and talk more at a more leisurely pace, but Sebastian couldn't afford to waste time. The longer he delayed, the higher the chances the witch would slip through his fingers.

Sebastian was pretty sure he'd run into Dorothy again at the Magic Knights Exams, but he wasn't too optimistic about the Silver Eagles winning her loyalty. With squads like The Grey Deer, White Snake, and Blue Rose in the mix, and given that the Silver Eagles are one of the more classist squads in the kingdom, he felt they had a tough road ahead.

And now here he was, walking through the narrow streets of Hage in the soft morning light, his hood pulled low over his face to avoid drawing attention. His attire—a simple pair of black pants, a plain shirt, and the cloak—was as unremarkable as it could be. Beneath the cloak, Sebastian tugged at the material of his shirt, feeling the unfamiliar coarseness against his skin. He couldn't help but grimace, thinking of the luxurious silver robes he usually wore as a Silva. Despite their elegance, he hated them. They were impractical, and stiff, and did nothing but make him stand out in the worst ways.

The very thought made him shake his head in disapproval. The Silva's—his family—were known for their impeccable looks and silver hair, but their fashion sense? Garbage. Especially the men. Their long, flowing silver capes, paired with those ridiculous slippers, made them look like clowns rather than nobles. He'd long held this opinion, but it seemed especially poignant now, surrounded by the drab reality of Hage. Here, in this forsaken place, the absurdity of Silva fashion felt even more stark in comparison to the rough practicality of the villagers' attire.

Sebastian chuckled to himself, adjusting the cloak to ensure none of his silver hair escaped. Normally, his long hair was tied in a rat tail—a signature of the Silva family—but today he had gathered it into a tight man bun, high atop his head, covered under his hood. The last thing he wanted was to give away his identity. Silver hair, while beautiful, had a way of attracting unwanted attention, and he couldn't risk anyone recognizing him for who he truly was.

As he walked through the village, passing by modest homes and crooked fences, his thoughts wandered further. In any other anime or manga, he mused, silver-haired or white-haired characters were always portrayed as these stunning, badass figures—heroes or villains with a sense of style and power that made them larger than life. But the Silva's? Despite their natural good looks, they somehow managed to squander their potential, reducing themselves to walking fashion disasters. Their looks and hair were wasted on them, Sebastian thought with an amused shake of his head.

He toyed with the idea of cutting his hair. The thought had crossed his mind many times before, but it lingered longer now. A drastic change might be exactly what he needed—cutting off his long locks, perhaps even changing his entire wardrobe. Maybe he'd trade in the extravagant silver robes for something more practical, more his style. But then again, such a change would undoubtedly cause more of a stir than it was worth. A Silva without their signature hair and attire? The very idea was scandalous.

Still, he couldn't shake the thought. Even if it did attract attention, it was better than walking around in clothes that made him feel like a fool. He grimaced, imagining himself back in those gaudy silver slippers and oversized capes. No, something had to change. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.

As Sebastian strolled through Hage, he spotted the bustling central square, already buzzing with preparations for the grimoire ceremony. Villagers were busy setting up stalls and decorations, the air filled with their lively chatter. Parents were soothing their kids, while little ones argued over who would snag the best grimoire before heading to the tower. He wrapped his cloak tighter around himself and slipped into the shadows, keeping an eye out for any sign of the young witch. The day was just getting started, but it felt like there was something—or someone—out there worth searching for.

And as he stood there, blending into the village like just another wandering traveler, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Today, the forsaken realm felt less forsaken, and more like the beginning of something far greater.

Sebastian shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He had spent enough time mulling over the details of his conversation with Alfred and his disdain for Silva fashion. Now, with the day stretching out before him and the grimoire acceptance ceremony still hours away, he decided to explore the village. It would be a long wait until evening, and the charm of Hage beckoned him to see more of it.

His first stop, naturally, would be the church. It was a focal point in any village, and Sebastian was curious to see what this humble sanctuary would look like in a forsaken place like Hage. He set off at a leisurely pace, moving silently through the village streets, his boots barely making a sound on the uneven cobblestone paths. The villagers were already active, bustling about with their daily routines, though some paused to greet him with a wave or a friendly word.

"Morning, traveler!" one of the older men called out, tipping his hat.

Sebastian nodded back with a polite smile, responding to each greeting with a quiet gesture or a brief word. There was a certain peace in the air, a sense of simplicity and contentment that made him sigh in bliss. Hage, despite its reputation as part of the forsaken realm, had an unpretentious beauty to it. The rolling hills, the crooked fences, the modest homes—it was a place where life moved slowly, where people lived with little but seemed content.

Looking around, Sebastian found himself admiring the scene. In another world, he thought, if things had been different, he might have loved living in a place like this. The peaceful isolation, the quiet streets, the absence of the pressures that weighed on him in the noble realm—it was idyllic in its own way. But then, as his eyes wandered toward the edge of the village, his gaze settled on the ominous sight in the distance: the looming silhouette of the demon skull. The massive structure hung over the horizon like a dark omen, casting a long shadow over the peaceful village.

Sebastian's smile faded. As beautiful as Hage was, that skull was a constant reminder that this place wasn't as tranquil as it seemed. It was a forsaken realm for a reason.

He soon arrived at the church, a small, unassuming building nestled on the outskirts of the village. It was simple, with twin wooden doors and stone walls that had clearly seen better days. The cracks in the stone and the sagging roof made it clear that this church had been neglected for years. Sebastian sighed softly as he stood in front of the doors. The gap in wealth between the forsaken and noble realms was painfully obvious here. Even if this is just an orphanage church, he thought, this place is no home for children.

He knocked on the doors, and after a moment, he heard the creak of old wood as one of them slowly opened. The sound made him frown, his eyes wandering over the structure's worn exterior. It was barely holding together, with gaps in the walls that would make it unbearably cold in the winter. Sebastian imagined the freezing drafts seeping through those holes, the children shivering inside. This building wasn't fit for anyone to live in, let alone the six children who would soon call it home. Frostbite was a real risk here.

Before he could dwell further on the state of the church, the door opened fully, revealing a middle-aged man standing in the doorway. He had short, black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, his long black robe trimmed with wide white bands at the hem and cuffs. A high-collared, white mantle rested on his shoulders, and around his neck hung a gold cross that glinted softly in the morning light.

Sebastian immediately recognized him. Father Orsi, the priest of this church. But something was off. He looked younger, far younger than the gray-haired man Sebastian remembered seeing in the anime. Inwardly, Sebastian marveled at the difference. So this is what Father Orsi looked like in his younger days.

"Oh, a visitor?" Father Orsi greeted him with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling in pleasant surprise. "I'm the priest of this church, Father Orsi. Please, come in."

Sebastian nodded, stepping inside as Father Orsi gestured for him to enter. The interior of the church was just as modest as the outside, but there was a warmth to the place that transcended its physical state. Despite its run-down appearance, it had the feeling of a sanctuary—a place where, no matter how bad things got, people would still find refuge.

Sebastian gave a light nod as he stepped into the church, but his frown deepened as he took in the state of the interior. The condition inside was even worse than the cracked and worn exterior had suggested. The wooden benches lining the small chapel were splintered and cracked, spider webs clung to the corners of the ceiling, and a thick layer of dust covered nearly every surface. Stains—some old, others more recent—spotted the floors and worn-out rugs, evidence of neglect and hard times.

Father Orsi, noticing Sebastian's expression, sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. "I, uh, apologize for the mess," he said with an awkward smile. "This place used to be a lot cleaner, I promise. But now that I've got two babies to look after, I don't have as much time to keep up with everything." He glanced around at the clutter with a guilty look, clearly aware of how bad things had gotten.

Sebastian nodded indifferently, his eyes scanning the dusty room. "Have you requested the clergy to send you a helper?" he asked, his voice even, but his gaze piercing.

Orsi sighed, hanging his head slightly in frustration as he tried to maintain his forced smile. "I did," he admitted, "but, well, the Church can't exactly force anyone to come to a place like this. And let's be honest, the odds of someone willingly moving out to Hage, at the edge of the forsaken realm… they're slim to none."

Sebastian could only agree. It was true; the forsaken realm wasn't exactly a place that attracted volunteers. This village was far from the comforts of the capital and noble realms. His mind wandered briefly to the future—he realized it would still be a few years before Lily Aquaria, the kind-hearted nun, arrived at this church. Until then, Orsi was on his own.

As Sebastian considered this, his admiration for the priest grew. Orsi had taken in Asta and Yuno as helpless babies, despite having little in the way of funds or manpower. The village was isolated, impoverished, and harsh, yet Orsi had seen those two infants and couldn't just leave them to freeze in the winter. Not only had he saved them from certain death, but he had chosen to raise them, despite the overwhelming odds. And in the years to come, he would adopt four more children, building a family in this crumbling, forsaken place.

Orsi interrupted Sebastian's thoughts, his voice hesitant but polite. "So, are you here to pray, or perhaps make a confession?" he asked, trying to gauge Sebastian's purpose.

Sebastian shook his head and reached into his cloak, pulling out a small pouch. Without a word, he pressed the pouch into Orsi's hands. "I'm here to make a donation," he said simply.

Orsi blinked in surprise, feeling the weight of the pouch immediately. His fingers loosened the drawstrings, and through the small opening, he saw the unmistakable gleam of gold coins. His eyes widened in shock. "This... this is…" he stammered, his voice trembling. The weight of the pouch alone had been shocking, but seeing the gleam of gold was something entirely different.

Sebastian, calm and composed, gave him a slight smile. "Go ahead, take it."

But Orsi hesitated, his brows knitting together in concern. "Are you sure this isn't stolen?" he asked, his voice dropping to a worried whisper. "I—I don't want to put the Church in danger. If this money comes from dubious means…"

Sebastian chuckled softly, lifting the edge of his cloak to reveal his silver hair. Orsi's eyes widened even more, recognition immediately flashing across his face.

"House Silva…" Orsi whispered, his voice shaky. He quickly moved to bow, stumbling over his words. "I—I had no idea! Please, forgive me, I didn't realize—"

Sebastian quickly held up a hand to stop him, his tone suddenly more urgent. "No need for that," he said firmly. "I'm here on a secret mission. I'd rather you treat me as a normal person while I'm here."

Orsi gulped and nodded, his nervousness apparent. "O-of course," he managed, though his eyes were still wide with shock. He lightened up a bit when Sebastian continued.

"And don't worry about the money," Sebastian added, his tone more reassuring. "No one will target this church. You can expect monthly donations of at least the same value from now on."

Tears welled up in Orsi's eyes. His hands shook as he gripped the pouch, his emotions clearly overwhelming him. "I… I don't know what to say. Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. But as he looked down at the pouch again, his expression shifted. He bit his lip and, with visible reluctance, tried to press the pouch back into Sebastian's hands. "I… I can't accept this."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Why not?"

Orsi's face twisted with guilt as he lowered his head in shame. "I've always mocked nobles and royals behind their backs," he admitted quietly. "Called them selfish, uncompassionate people. I don't deserve this kind of generosity. Not after all the things I've said."

Sebastian couldn't help but laugh. "You're not wrong," he said, his voice tinged with amusement. "Most nobles and royals are trash. You weren't wrong to think that." He smiled softly, his gaze steady. "But now that you've learned your lesson, you can move on."

Despite the words of reassurance, Orsi still seemed troubled. His fingers clenched tightly around the pouch, and he looked as though he might refuse it once more. But before he could protest again, Sebastian spoke calmly.

"Even if you don't think you deserve the money, those children do." He pointed toward the staircase, sensing the faint flicker of Yuno's mana upstairs. Asta was no doubt sleeping soundly beside him. "Think of them."

Orsi froze, his gaze following Sebastian's hand. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased. After a long pause, he finally nodded. "You're right," he murmured. "This money will go toward the children and the church. I swear it."

Sebastian's gaze softened, and he leaned in slightly. "Just remember," he said quietly, "a church is only as good as its priest. Don't forget to take care of yourself, too."

Orsi's nod was almost imperceptible. His eyes were focused on the pouch, still clearly conflicted. Sebastian sighed inwardly, sensing that the priest wasn't going to budge on this point. Orsi was far too selfless, too devoted to the children, to ever put himself first. It's a battle for another day, Sebastian thought, deciding not to press the issue any further.

Hearing a pair of soft whimpers and cries from upstairs, Father Orsi paused mid-conversation and glanced toward the ceiling. His brow furrowed with concern. "I need to check on the children," he said, already starting to turn toward the stairs.

Sebastian nodded, his expression calm. "Do you need help?"

Orsi hesitated, his eyes widening in surprise. The thought of a royal—especially one from the prestigious House Silva—offering to assist with childcare was not something he had expected. He mentally scolded himself for his bias, realizing that even after everything, he still carried assumptions about nobles. Clearing his throat, Orsi nodded. "That... would actually be very appreciated," he said, his voice a bit unsure but grateful.

Without any further comment, Sebastian followed him up the creaky, streaked staircase. The steps groaned under their weight as they ascended into a modest room with wooden plank floors. The room itself was simple, with a makeshift bed pushed against one wall. But what drew Sebastian's attention were the two well-crafted cribs, standing side by side, each holding a tiny infant swaddled in soft blankets. Both babies were squirming and tossing their tiny limbs as they whimpered softly.

Sebastian's gaze moved between the two children and Father Orsi, who was quick to hurry to the black-haired baby with golden eyes. A pendant with a blue stone hung from the infant's neck, and the child was crying more intensely than the other. "Yuno," Sebastian thought to himself, recognizing him immediately from the anime's future. Orsi gently scooped Yuno into his arms, cradling him with practiced ease. He shushed the baby softly, rocking him gently until Yuno's cries started to calm, his little body relaxing into the comforting hold of the priest.

As Sebastian observed this, he couldn't help but admire Orsi even more. The man was clearly worn down—his clothes were tattered and his frame much too thin. Yet despite his own hardships, Orsi had made sure these children were well cared for. Yuno's clothes were clean and snug, and even though the conditions of the church were rough, the children themselves looked healthy. It was a kind of selflessness that struck Sebastian deeply. To love children who weren't even your own, to give so much of yourself for others without expecting anything in return—it was something he found incredibly rare.

If any of my kids ever get married, Sebastian thought, a brief, wistful smile crossing his face, I'd want Father Orsi to oversee the ceremony.

Breaking from his thoughts, Sebastian moved to the other crib, where the ash-blonde baby with bright green eyes was still whimpering, though not as loudly as Yuno had been. Sebastian lifted the baby gently, noting the boy's lively energy. "Asta," he thought. But instead of calming down like Yuno, Asta's eyes flew wide open, and his soft whimpers turned into an excited giggle. His little legs kicked out happily, and before Sebastian could react, Asta's tiny hands reached up and scratched at his cheek as if they were playing a game.

Sebastian blinked in surprise, then chuckled at the sudden shift in the baby's mood. Asta's innocent laughter echoed in the small room as he continued to kick and squirm in Sebastian's arms, completely unaware of who was holding him. His small, sharp nails left light scratches on Sebastian's skin, but the royal man didn't seem to mind.

Orsi, on the other hand, gawking at the sight, looked immediately flustered. "I—uh—he's just a lively kid!" Orsi stammered, clearly worried that Sebastian might take offense. He hurried to add, "He doesn't mean any harm, I promise."

Sebastian let out a low, amused chuckle, still gently holding the wriggling Asta. "Calm down," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'm not going to raise a hand against an infant."

Orsi's shoulders sagged in relief, but his expression shifted to one of embarrassment. He nodded sheepishly, his hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his robe. "Of course," he murmured, clearly ashamed for assuming otherwise.

Sebastian only smiled as Asta continued to giggle and play in his arms. Lively is an understatement, he thought, watching as the little baby squirmed and babbled happily. But instead of feeling irritated, he found himself strangely comforted by Asta's innocent energy. The child was completely carefree, completely oblivious to the harsh world outside the church walls. For just a moment, everything felt lighter.

As Sebastian looked down at Asta and Yuno, a wave of warmth washed over him. Their innocent faces, soft and peaceful in sleep, stirred something deep within his heart. For a moment, a powerful temptation swept over him—a desire to take these two remarkable babies back with him to the Noble Realm, to raise them within the opulence and security of Castle Silva.

He imagined them growing up in the grand halls of the castle, trained by the best tutors and exposed to the finest education and magical resources the kingdom had to offer. In his mind, he could see a future where Lucius, the tyrannical villain, would wreak havoc, only to be swiftly defeated by two imposing butlers from House Silva. The mere thought of this made him almost giddy with excitement, and he had to stop himself from grinning too widely or—heavens forbid—drooling at the daydream.

But just as quickly as the fantasy took hold, Sebastian shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. He knew that taking Asta and Yuno away from Hage, away from the harsh yet humble life they were destined for, would change who they were at their core. Sure, they might still grow strong under Noble care—perhaps even more so—but their character? Their fire? That unyielding drive to become the Wizard King and bring equality to the Clover Kingdom? That would likely be snuffed out, dimmed by the ease and privilege of a noble upbringing. They would lack the empathy and understanding of what it meant to be a peasant or a commoner, the very things that would fuel their resolve and make them the protectors they were meant to be.

No, Sebastian realized. As tempting as it was, Asta and Yuno needed to stay here in Hage, raised as peasants, experiencing hardship and growing stronger because of it. That was their path. The best thing he could do for them was to ensure they had the resources they needed to grow up in a stable environment. That meant frequent donations to the church, so they wouldn't have to worry about things like food, shelter, or warmth during the brutal winters.

As Asta and Yuno drifted off into peaceful sleep once more, Sebastian and Orsi carefully placed them back into their cribs, gently covering them with blankets. Asta's tiny hand clutched the edge of his blanket, while Yuno slept quietly, his blue pendant glinting faintly in the dim light. The two men stood there for a moment, watching the babies rest before silently making their way back downstairs.

Once they reached the entrance, Orsi turned to Sebastian, his eyes filled with gratitude. "I can't thank you enough," he said, his voice full of emotion. "What you've done today—"

Sebastian raised a hand to stop him. "It's time for me to be on my way," he said, his tone calm and composed.

Orsi nodded, moving to open the door. As Sebastian stepped out, the priest suddenly paused, as if remembering something. "Wait," he said, his brows furrowing slightly. "I never got your name."

Sebastian smiled faintly and shook his head. "I'm on a secret mission, remember? I can't give you my identity."

Orsi blinked, then nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'll remember that."

Before Sebastian turned to leave, he added one more thing, his voice firm but not unkind. "And remember, I was never here. No one from House Silva came to Hage today. That money—it came from the head church. Nothing more."

Orsi swallowed hard, clearly nervous at the idea of keeping such a secret, but he nodded once more. "I understand," he said softly.

With that, Sebastian turned and walked away, his hood pulled up over his silver hair. The village of Hage grew smaller behind him as he disappeared into the forest, the light filtering through the trees and casting shadows over his figure.

As Sebastian walked slowly toward the ominous silhouette of the demon skull looming in the distance, a strange mix of excitement and awe built inside him. The sight stirred memories of his past life, of all the times he daydreamed about being isekaid into the world of Black Clover. He had always imagined what it would be like to visit this very place—standing beneath the towering, fossilized skull of a demon, gazing up at the statue of the first Wizard King. Now, it wasn't just a fantasy. It was real, and that realization made his heart race with childlike giddiness.

"This is it," he thought, his lips curling into a small, anticipatory smile. "I'm actually here."

With each step, the forest around him came alive in ways that felt both foreign and familiar. He moved silently, his eyes scanning the greenery as he admired the wildlife. Birds chirped overhead, flitting between the branches of ancient trees. The scent of damp earth and fresh foliage filled his lungs, and the gentle rustle of leaves underfoot created a soothing cadence as he made his way closer to the edge of the forsaken realm.

Eventually, the forest thinned, and Sebastian found himself standing at the foot of the enormous demon skull. Its hollow eyes stared down at him, a haunting reminder of the epic battle fought long ago. Sebastian exhaled, trying to steady the excitement building inside him. This was a sacred place—a place where history had been written in blood and stone.

He began his ascent, climbing the ridged surface of the skull carefully, gripping the rough bone as he pulled himself up higher and higher. Every now and then, he paused, catching glimpses of the vast landscape below, a mix of sprawling forest and scattered villages. But his true focus lay ahead—at the top, where the statue of Lemiel Silvamillion Clover, the first Wizard King, awaited him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sebastian reached the peak. There, standing tall and regal against the sky, was the stone effigy of Lemiel. The statue's expression was calm, noble, and full of the quiet strength that had defined the man in life. Sebastian walked slowly toward it, each step reverent. His breath caught in his throat. He was here—standing before the very monument he had once only seen through the glow of a screen.

Suddenly, something caught his attention. A small movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see a tiny antimagic bird—a familiar creature in this world—flutter gracefully toward the statue. In its beak, it held a delicate flower, which it carefully placed at Lemiel's feet before perching itself on the Wizard King's stone shoulder.

Sebastian blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the scene. The bird, small and unimposing, narrowed its eyes at him as if scrutinizing his presence. It was only then that the realization hit him—this wasn't just any bird. This was Secre Swallowtail, the bird who had loyally protected Lemiel's and Licht's legacy for centuries, who would eventually regain her human form, about 15 years from now. Sebastian hadn't planned on encountering her quite yet, but fate, it seemed, had other ideas.

He paused, contemplating his next move. In his original plan, he hadn't intended to make contact with Secre until much later. But now, with her right here in front of him, the wheels in his mind began to turn. Her presence was often disregarded or overlooked by many, making her an ideal ally to use in the shadows. He could leverage her forgotten status to his advantage—after all, who better to help him navigate the complexities of this world than someone who had already been through it all?

But for now, he decided not to act too hastily. Secre's gaze remained fixed on him, cautious yet curious. Sebastian met her eyes for a brief moment before offering a slight nod, a silent acknowledgment of her presence. The antimagic bird tilted its head, seemingly satisfied, before ruffling its feathers and settling more comfortably on Lemiel's shoulder.

With a final glance at the statue, Sebastian stepped back, taking in the full scene before him—the statue, the demon skull, and the quiet bird that watched over it all. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he turned and made his way back down the skull, the excitement still simmering within him.

Sebastian was just about to descend from the demon skull, ready to put some distance between himself and this sacred place, when a voice—deep and gruff—sliced through the air.

"Sebastian?"

The sound of his name being called like that made his entire body freeze. His head snapped up, eyes narrowing, searching for the source. It didn't take long to spot the man standing a short distance away, watching him with a raised brow of confusion. Unlike Sebastian, the man wore no cloak or hood to conceal his identity. In fact, his appearance was strikingly familiar, so much so that Sebastian's pupils widened in shock.

The man was tall, towering even, with messy black hair that framed his rugged face, but what stood out most was the unmistakable green patch of hair on the right side of his head. His clothes were regal yet practical—he wore a high-collared shirt beneath a dark grey jacket lined with intricate green scrollwork. A red fabric belt cinched the jacket closed, and around his chest and waist, five gold strands of keys jingled softly as he moved. Dark grey pants and black boots completed his look, the boots trimmed with red and adorned with gold, diamond-shaped ornaments. Draped over his shoulders was a long cape, dark grey and lined with white fur, which flowed down to a mantle held together by a gold chain and red tassels hanging down in front.

Sebastian's throat tightened as the reality of who stood before him sank in.

One of the two people he had been actively avoiding since he had arrived in this world. And now, here he was, staring him down with a mix of curiosity and bewilderment, as though trying to make sense of why Sebastian, of all people, was lurking near the demon skull.

Conrad Leto. 

Omake

Secre perched on Lemiel's shoulder, her small bird eyes narrowing as she watched Sebastian approach. She was ready to act if needed, but before she could, he spoke.

"I know who you are. Secre Swallowtail"

Secre's eyes widened in surprise. How could he know? But when he called her Secre Swallowtail and mentioned she was Lemiel's assistant, it was clear this wasn't just some clueless stranger. Then, to top it off, he pointed at Lemiel's statue and said it wasn't just a statue, but the real Lemiel.

Her eyes narrowed further, and she let out a sharp squeak. "What do you want?"

Sebastian, unusually serious, replied, "I need an answer to a question."

Secre gave a small nod, curious now.

Pointing at the statue again, Sebastian asked, "Why's he standing like that?"

Secre blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

Sebastian cleared his throat. "Lemiel was badly hurt, right? So why is he posing like that? It's like a full-on hero stance. Did he ask you to wait before you sealed him so he could strike a pose?"

Secre froze, trying to process what he just said.

Sebastian pushed further, still dead serious. "Like, did he picture people coming by in the future and thought, 'I better look cool for my fans?'"

Secre just stood there, her face heating up as she remembered something she hadn't thought about in centuries.

485 years ago:

Lemiel was lying on the ground, barely alive. Secre was ready to seal him, sad but determined when suddenly he waved her off.

"Wait, Secre," he rasped, struggling to sit up.

"Yes, my prince?" she answered.

Coughing, blood dripping from his wounds, Lemiel forced himself to stand. Despite being on the brink of death, he posed dramatically—grimoire open in one hand, the other pointing heroically out toward the horizon, standing tall at the edge of the demon skull.

Without looking back at her, he said, "Alright, Secre. Now."

Secre was dumbstruck. Here was her dying prince, posing like a hero in his last moments, and she had to resist every urge to punch him for it.

Back to the present:

Secre's wings twitched as she snapped back to reality, the memory making her blush hard. She glanced at Sebastian, her pride wounded.

"Don't ask," she muttered, clearly embarrassed.

Sebastian would never get a clear answer to this question.


PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA
hmak27230 hmak27230

Alright, this time for real no more chapter's this weekend. You get this Omake as compensation

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