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3.22% Reborn As Papa Silva / Chapter 3: Through Day and Night

บท 3: Through Day and Night

Ignoring Aurelia's barely-contained fury, I hurriedly made my exit, brushing aside Acier's frantic pleas. It was difficult to reconcile the strong woman I had always admired in the story—the indomitable force of nature—with the fragile figure laying before me, her eyes darting nervously as if trying to gauge the repercussions of every word. The fear that I might erupt like a volcano at any moment only served to deepen my discomfort. Acier Silva was celebrated as one of the mightiest individuals in her world, her radiant smile and unshakeable confidence broadcasting an unyielding resolve—even as she prepared to embrace death when it eventually came. But now she seemed so broken, so far removed from the powerhouse she once was.

As I walked out of her villa and made my way back to the office, an unsettling churn twisted in my stomach at the memory of her dull, haunted gaze, which flickered with the faintest hint of hope as she regarded me. In the original work, my existence as Sebastian Silva was merely an afterthought—nothing more than a footnote noting Acier's eventual marriage and the four children she would bear. Perhaps the author chose to exclude him entirely, aiming to preserve Acier's independence and strength. After all, an illustrious figure like her shouldn't have been made to look like a mere appendage of a man, a hapless wretch clinging to her success.

Yet, the reality was starkly different. Acier's husband was undeniably real, and the torment he had wrought upon her during their sixteen years of marriage loomed large. To crudely compare, I imagined my existence paralleling that of Jacques Schnee from RWBY—an opportunist who had married into the esteemed House Silva (the equivalent of the Schnee Dust Company) purely for personal gain. Although the comparison painted a simplistic picture; Sebastian's character was layered, encompassing a genuine, albeit twisted, love for Acier—love that was now tainted by the years of emotional abuse he had inflicted.

In this grim narrative, Acier exemplified a far more resilient and nurturing mother than Willow of RWBY, refusing to allow the bleakness of her marriage to eclipse her devotion to her children. If anything, her tribulations seemed to deepen her love for them, compelling her to pour even more attention and affection into their lives.

Tragically, her life was cut short at the tender age of thirty-three—a devastating reality in a world where mana enhanced not just abilities but also resilience and vitality. Had she been plucked from this tale and placed into the modern realm, she might have been mistaken for a vibrant twenty-five-year-old. Within the confines of this cruel story, had she continued to endure, there was an unnerving possibility that she would have eventually succumbed to the pressure and trauma. Yet, unlike Willow, who retreated into the shadows, Acier would likely not lose herself entirely; instead, she would have projected her hidden scars—visible only in the presence of her tormentor—and become increasingly vulnerable to the world around her.

Damn it all—how pathetic I was, too. I couldn't even muster the courage to respond to her. I couldn't tell if it was the remnants of Sebastian's wretched disposition or my own timid nature as the transmigrated soul that drove me to flee like a coward. My dark mood clung to me like a shadow as I strode through the main estate. Typically, the staff would part for me out of respect, but this time it was different; their faces bore an unmistakable dread, eyes averted, bodies trembling as they avoided attracting my ire.

I chided myself for the transformation I had allowed to unfold. Despite being intertwined with a man as rotten as Sebastian, I had yet to fully succumb to that darkness, I mused, berating myself for the annoyance swelling within. I refused to lay my frustrations upon these poor souls. They were not deserving of my wrath. But the door to my office—now that was a different matter entirely.

As I reached for the doorknob, I turned it slowly and stepped inside. The door swung shut behind me with a resounding crash, shaking the very walls of the room. Damn, it didn't even break! What on earth were these doors made of? I shook my head in exasperation, my irritation boiling just beneath the surface.

I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly as I realized just how tense I had been. The release of tension was almost instantaneous, making me feel much better. My eyes drifted to the stack of paperwork cluttering my desk— a daunting reminder of the myriad tasks that needed reviewing and signing. Procrastination wasn't an option; leaving it for later would only result in an unbearable pile-up. I needed to clear this off my plate to free up my schedule for my plans this month, especially time for Acier. Resolutely, I picked up my quill pen and inkpad. Instead of sitting in that dreadful excuse for a chair by my desk, I opted for the coffee table in front of the sofa. The Victorian-style couch, while prioritizing aesthetics over comfort, was still an improvement over the chair. Making a mental note, I considered dedicating a budget to replace the estate's seating furniture, at least in the areas I frequent.

As I looked at the mountain of paperwork, a migraine threatened to surface. If only I hadn't sent Alfred away; he could've been manipulated into handling this for me. I psyched myself up. "Come on, Sebastian, you can do this," I muttered. After all, I was a medical student who had made it to my final year, written essays as long as textbooks, and memorized procedures and protocols lengthier than the constitution. I picked up the first sheet and my brow furrowed in confusion. A wedding offer addressed to one Nozel Silva. The mere title was enough to make me crumple it up and toss it into the waste bin. If only I were a fire mage, I could have incinerated it.

The next sheet...another wedding offer. A quick review of Sebastian's memories made it clear. With Acier soon to be out of the picture, many nobles and royals greedy for House Silva had set their sights on my eldest, the next heir in all but name. Annoyance flickered through me as I began sorting through the papers, pulling out all the ones labeled with wedding or engagement offers. To my dismay, nearly 60% of them fell into this category. It would be easy to shred them all, but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know who had the audacity to reveal their greed so plainly.

As I scrutinized the senders, my frown deepened. Sebastian's aristocratic knowledge enabled me to see that 90% of the offers came from House Kira or noble houses allied with them. Some were so desperate that they adopted daughters just to make an offer or even proposed their sons. Despite my irritation, I couldn't help but stifle a laugh-Sebastian knew Nozel's preferences well enough to know he didn't swing that way. Some offers were ludicrous, proposing significant age gaps or even suggesting patriarchs' wives, concubines, or mothers and aunts. A few were so shameless they promised newborns as concubines when they reached marriageable age.

Even the more reasonable ones, offering daughters or second sons, were shredded all the same. I made a note of one particularly bold offer for Noelle, nominating the sender himself. Clearly, he had heard the rumors of her resemblance to the Steel Princess and hoped to sire children with her presumably large magic reserves.

I decided Alfred would arrange a meeting with Damnatio. Not only to deal with the upcoming Conrad issue and Lovilia's imminent assassination but also to address the nuisance that was House Hapshass. Wasn't that the house where that blonde idiot, who tried to plot against Yuno, came from? Salim, or something like that. Sebastian's knowledge confirmed they were indeed a family of lightning mages, making me more confident in my decision.

A smirk played on my lips as I gathered the remnants of the ridiculous proposals. At least dealing with this nonsense provided some amusement amidst the tedium. I reached the final marriage offer, ready to toss it away without a second thought. These offers sickened me, but something made me pause. I squinted at the paper, disbelief washing over me. Surely, this was some sick joke. Reading it again, my blood ran cold. Clutching the paper, I wanted to shred it and tear the sender apart. The title read: Marriage Offer For Sebastian Silva From House Kira.

"Hahahahhahahahahah!" My hysterical and furious laughter echoed in the room. Thankfully, the walls were soundproofed, or passersby might have thought I'd lost my mind. My muscles tensed, and my mana flared instinctively. I wasn't alone in my rage; Sebastian's very essence was repulsed by this idea.

It was no secret that Sebastian and Acier had a loveless marriage. But why then did Noelle and her siblings not have any half-siblings? In noble circles, it was common to have many lovers and concubines. Yet, Noelle's father never remarried after Acier's passing. The truth was, he still loved Acier, albeit in a twisted manner. To him, Acier was a jewel, an idea of perfection he wanted to corrupt and mold. Despite having women throw themselves at him, he chose the undefeated princess of the battlefield. He was a competitor, not interested in the result but the journey and chase. He wanted to defeat Acier slowly, making her kneel before him because she had the strength to oppose him. He didn't want an obedient wife; he wanted a fighter and a rival. Basically, he was an M.

House Kira's blatant disregard, not even waiting for Acier's passing or the standard mourning period, infuriated him. As my hysterical laughter subsided, I looked up at the ceiling and mused manically, "Perhaps, Augustus has outlived his usefulness."

In the summer of 1619, Sebastian Silva began planning regicide.

3 Hours Later

I sank back onto the sofa, utterly spent after a grueling session of managing the family's financial affairs. The weight of responsibility pressed down on me, as I signed off on budget allocations for various sectors—food, defense, magical tools, education, and instructors, to name a few. I also had to approve the distribution of our monthly earnings, ensure all outstanding taxes and fees to the kingdom were paid, and authorize those dubious "donations" (which were more akin to bribes) to the courts and the church, all to keep them from prying too deeply into the Silva family affairs. It was an arduous and unenviable task, to say the least.

The strain of calculating expenses took a toll on my wrist, but it was the heartache of watching so much gold slip away from our treasuries that truly weighed me down. If I hadn't known better, I might have thought I was having a stroke, but I forced myself to remember that, in the grand scheme of our wealth, it was merely a drop in the ocean that constituted the Silva fortune.

I couldn't help but daydream of the sort of chaos I could unleash on the economy back in my old world if I were able to return with even a fraction of our resources. Uncle Sam might seriously entertain the notion that the Clover Kingdom is in desperate need of some liberty!

As tempting as it was to simply turn in for the night and let the burdens of the day fade into oblivion, I steeled myself to rise from the sofa. I knew if I allowed myself a moment's respite, procrastination would ensue, and no amount of fusing with Sebastian would rectify my chronic lack of work ethic. With determination, I made my way through the now quieter hallways, offering indifferent nods to the patrolling knights as I set my sights on heading back to Acier's villa. Tomorrow promised to be a long day, making it wiser to rest there, where I could optimize my time. I only hoped my family's tension wouldn't be too palpable at my presence.

Acier Silva

A shiver coursed through my body as I twisted and turned on the bed, battling the overwhelming urge to surrender to sleep. Come on, Acier, I urged myself, you can fight this—don't close your eyes! The thought of drifting off terrified me; I had little faith that I would ever awaken again if I let slumber consume me. I was acutely aware of my own fragility, a state I had never experienced so intensely—not even as a toddler, when I first learned to navigate this world. This curse had rendered me so weak that I could barely sense the flow of mana within me, marking an ominous approach to the end of my life.

In a desperate attempt to prolong my wakefulness, I had requested Nozel to leave the blinds open and the window unlocked, allowing the moonlight to flood the room and the chilly night breeze to nip at my skin. "Just one more day," I whispered to myself, thinking of the experts scheduled to arrive tomorrow. Though I dared not entertain hopes of a full recovery, maybe they could restore enough of my strength for me to live my final days in peace and tranquility. Perhaps I would even have enough vigor to hold Noelle—if only for a fleeting moment.

"Just a few more hours," I pleaded with my weary limbs, desperation creeping into my thoughts. I genuinely doubted my body's resolve to bring me back should I give in to the temptations of a short nap. My eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and the resistance I had so fiercely clung to began to crumble as my vision blurred and darkened.

No… no, please! I silently begged. Nozel, Aurelia, someone—anyone! Tears I wanted to suppress began to swell in my eyes as I desperately called out, "P-please." Just at that moment, a gentle yet masculine sigh broke through the stillness, followed by a strong, warm hand resting on my forehead. Instantly, I felt a rush of cold water coursing through my mind and down my mana veins, invigorating me as if a surge of life had just entered my weary body.

My vision sharpened, the fog lifting as I focused on the source of that comforting touch. To my astonishment, it was a figure I had never expected to see by my side—the very essence of what should be the backbone of any family, the one whose face mirrored the features of our sons, my husband.

In that moment, everything else faded away, giving me a glimmer of hope and strength to cling to.

"W-Wait, Sebby?" I whispered hoarsely, disbelief flooding my senses. As soon as the pet name slipped from my lips, a wave of anxiety surged through me. It had been so long since I had called him that—back when we were engaged and every syllable wove affection between us. But after Nozel's birth, he clearly demonstrated how much he loathed being addressed that way… and he did so quite violently. The way he paused in that moment sent a chill through me, and I felt a knot form in my stomach, worried he would withdraw his touch in a fit of petty spite, leaving me to languish in despair. I could almost feel the words gathering in my throat in a futile attempt to explain myself. Yet, he lingered for only a breath before returning to his gentle ministrations, bathing my forehead in soothing recovery magic.

"If it hurts, you shouldn't speak," he remarked indifferently, his voice devoid of emotion. I remained in stunned silence as I watched him care for me, an unexpected rush of memories sweeping over me. I envisioned times long past when he would eagerly heal my wounds after I returned battered from training or missions, times when he sought out knowledge from renowned doctors just for my benefit. It stirred a bittersweet ache within me, a nostalgia for a past I tried desperately to bury. Now, with hindsight, it all felt tainted—a lie I wasn't ready to confront. I had been so lovesick back then that I couldn't accept that his concern might have masked something darker, that the worried glances he cast my way whenever I emerged with bruises or injuries, large and small, might simply have been a façade.

"This… t-takes… m-me… back," I stuttered, the words escaping my lips before I could truly grasp their weight. A fresh wave of apprehension washed over me as I braced myself for a reprimand or even a harsh response, yet none came. He persisted in his task, enveloping us both in an awkward silence until the magic's maximum effect seemed to reach its pinnacle. With a reluctant sigh, he drew his arm away, and I felt a pang of embarrassment for missing the warmth of his skin against mine. But I wouldn't voice it—not anymore. That was a vulnerability I could no longer afford to reveal.

As I sat watching him in silence, I felt the urge to break the tension when he suddenly reached into his satchel, pulling something out that surprised me. It was an unusual sight—Sebastian, the typically stoic royal, holding something other than his grimoire or communication device. When he retrieved a circular jar, my curiosity piqued.

I observed him with bewilderment as he uncorked the jar, releasing a sweet aroma that even my congested nose could detect.

"H-honey?" I stammered, half in confusion. He then produced a spoon from beneath his robe and dipped it into the golden nectar, drawing out a generous tablespoon.

"Yes," he replied with his characteristic indifference as if this was the most mundane task in the world. Then he reached for something else—a smaller container this time—and sprinkled dark specks over the honey.

"And pepper?" I gasped, incredulous at the sight. It was utterly out of character for Sebastian to prepare his own food, let alone combine honey with pepper. The absurdity of it left me in a comical state of disbelief.

I braced myself to witness his peculiar culinary choice, but instead of feeding himself, he brought the spoon to my mouth. My puzzlement deepened as I noticed the honey-pepper mixture take on a blush hue; he was channeling a bit of recovery magic into it.

For me? I was about to voice my shock, but as I opened my mouth to speak, he quickly interpreted that as my consent and shoved the teaspoon into my mouth.

"Mph, mfff…" I muffled in protest, attempting to flail my arms in indignation as he shot me a stoic look.

"If you want me to pull it out, swallow it all. It'll clean your throat so you can at least speak like a human being," he said matter-of-factly.

Two conflicting thoughts raced through my mind: my husband was feeding me, and his justification could easily paint a more "erotic" scene for anyone overhearing our exchange without context. Shaking off the absurdity, I nodded and obliged, swallowing the strange combination of flavors that balanced sweet with a sharp bite. As the healing magic flowed through me, I felt the soothing sensation start to clear my throat, alleviating the itch and irritation that had lingered.

He withdrew the spoon, placing it back into the honey jar and setting it on the side table. "Better?" he asked, turning away from the table to face me once more.

"Better," I replied, surprised at how effortlessly the words came out. "Much better," I tried again, delighted to find that even my nasal passages had opened up, allowing me to breathe and speak without sounding like I was drowning.

All he offered was a slight nod before he reclined in the chair. I noticed him frown as he adjusted his position, attempting to make himself more comfortable. I was tempted to tease him about it, but the seriousness etched on his features convinced me that there were certainly better moments to test my luck.

"Why are you here?" I decided to confront the elephant in the room. It was hard to fathom why the illustrious Sebastian Silva had stepped down from his throne at the main estate to grace his wife in her villa with his presence—not once but twice in a single day—especially after years of ignoring me.

"Didn't I tell you? Experts are coming in tomorrow," he replied matter-of-factly as if I were the one who had lost track of the conversation. The tone ignited a flicker of irritation in me. Perhaps he noticed my annoyance, as he continued, "They're not the most social or pleasant bunch… so I'll need to handle the negotiations to ensure they fix you and Nozel up. Besides, with both of you unable to voice your issues without 'her' knowing…"

He truly knew it all, I thought somberly, nodding with a muted expression. "Even then, why are you here, in my room?" I pressed.

"I wasn't planning on it," my husband shrugged indifferently as if it held no significance. "I was still on the fence about checking up on you, but I heard your plea and let myself in. Was that alright?"

A warm feeling flickered to life in my stomach, threatening to rise to my cheeks. I quickly stifled it. I had learned much over the past 16 years—two decades if I counted our time as fiancés. I was no longer the lovesick fool I had once been, susceptible to all his whims and sweet nothings. He wouldn't take hold of my heart so easily again. Still, given that he had just saved my life, I looked at him earnestly and said, "Yes, it was. Thank you."

Out of all the responses I could have anticipated from Sebastian, watching him blush like a schoolgirl while scratching his cheek and mumbling a bashful "don't mention it" was not among them. Who are you and what have you done with my husband? I wondered, recalling the days when his flirtation had piqued my interest and held my affection.

Regaining his composure, he slumped back into his chair, crossing his arms and turning his gaze toward the wall across from him with indifference. He might have looked regal, if not for that brief moment of vulnerability I had just witnessed.

"So what was that about?" I asked tentatively, feeling the weight of the moment.

He blinked at me in confusion, his brows furrowing. "What was what about?"

I propped myself up against the bed's backboard, trying to steady my racing thoughts as he helped me sit up straight. Twirling a lock of my silver hair around my left index finger, I studied him. His genuine bewilderment stirred a mix of frustration and vulnerability within me. Gritting my teeth, I finally forced the words out. "The honey… and pepper… and…" I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, unable to suppress my embarrassment, "…feeding me."

I half-expected him to blush and turn as red as a tomato, fumbling for words in a flustered mess. Instead, his expression shifted to one of nostalgia, a hint of melancholy washing over his features as he gazed up at the ceiling. Disappointment gnawed at me, convincing me he was slipping back into his familiar habit of ignoring me. My head began to slump back down onto the pillow when he unexpectedly began to speak softly.

"Whenever I got a cold, or a stuffy throat or nose… my mom used to feed me that." His voice carried a lingering affection, and I blinked in surprise as he studied my reaction closely. A wave of thoughts washed over me. For someone like Sebastian, whose parents had died when he was very young, I had always assumed he wouldn't have many memories of them. The fact that he chose to share this fragment of his past with me, especially knowing how sensitive he usually was about discussing his parents, felt significant.

"Thank you." I sounded like a broken record, repeating the only response I could muster. If my words stirred any annoyance or offense in him, he didn't show it—just a soft nod in acknowledgment.

"So what now?" I asked, attempting to shift the topic away from the intensity of the moment.

"Originally, I was going to rest in one of the guest bedrooms," he began, then narrowed his gaze at me. "Alas, it seems you're quite scared to sleep." I felt the air grow heavy as he touched on that sensitive subject. Normally, I'd brace myself for mockery or snide remarks, but instead, he added gently, "So if you don't mind, I could just stay in this chair, and we can keep you awake by chatting until sunrise when our guests arrive?"

Once again, I found myself blinking in bewilderment. This was not the Sebastian Silva I had come to know since our marriage. This was something akin to the man my fiancé had been before the weight of the Silva name had changed him—an offshoot of the family, so distant from the core that it was easy to forget he belonged at all, aside from his striking hair.

Please, don't let this be some cruel joke, I thought, a game designed to lift my hopes only to shatter them later. Anxiety coiled tightly in my chest as I gripped the covers, my questions etched across my face—concerns, a plea for the truth. I couldn't stop the silent tears from spilling as I pressed my lips together in frustration. His eyes held mine, reflecting a complicated mix of emotions. Please tell me. "What is that supposed to mean?" I managed to ask.

In response, he leaned toward me, and I instinctively closed my eyes, bracing for mockery, the sharp sting of insults to pierce through the moment. But none came. Instead, I felt gentle thumbs underneath my eyelids, wiping away my tears. Opening my eyes, I fought to stop trembling and to calm the hitch in my throat. He stood up and knelt beside my bed, turning to me with an earnest expression as he clasped his right hand over mine.

"I… can't… speak for the future," he began softly. "But right here, right now… this is all real. No games, no ploys, no sick jokes or schemes. It's just you and me, interacting like a husband and wife should. If you don't want to talk, we can sit in silence. I'll keep you awake with some light mana pulses."

Looking into his eyes—sincere and earnest, despite the betrayals of the past—I felt a flicker of confidence. This time, the honesty behind his gaze felt undeniable. I gave him a shaky nod, and we let the silence envelop us, finding comfort in the delicate touch of our hands against one another. Glancing beyond him at the moonlit sky, I silently wished for this moment to last just a little longer.


บท 4: Negotiations

Mereoleona Vermillion:

"Alright, what in the actual hell am I looking at?" I squinted, utterly bewildered, as I took in the scene unfolding before me. Acier, my mentor in everything but name, sat propped up against her bed's backboard. Her skin was even paler, her sickness clearly worsening since the last time I'd seen her. And yet... there was something different. Despite her frailness, a spark of life shone brighter in her now than ever before. When she smiled at me upon my entrance, it was so genuine, so full of warmth, that I nearly forgot about the dire circumstances.

But what really threw me for a loop was Sebastian Silva—that Sebastian—sitting right beside her. His hand gently held hers, glowing with an ocean-blue aura as he channeled what I assumed to be healing magic. I glanced over at Nozel, whose jaw was practically on the floor, with little Noelle clinging to him. Clearly, I wasn't the only one completely thrown off by this strange sight.

"Mother, did this creep do something to you?" Nozel's voice cut through the tension, his words so deadly serious that I couldn't stop a laugh from escaping me. Really? The look on his face was priceless. But my amusement didn't last long, and I quickly began circulating my mana, ready to spring into action the moment Sebastian so much as lifted a finger toward Nozel. I was more than prepared to put that bastard in his place. But nothing happened. To my surprise, Sebastian just twitched his brows slightly and continued his work, holding Acier's hand, sending rhythmic waves of mana into her. My senses honed in, and I could tell—there was no malice in what he was doing. His magic was gentle, restoring the flow of Acier's mana and keeping her alert.

Acier's smile softened, then turned into a frown of disapproval as she shot a glare at her son. "Nozel Silva, that is no way to speak about your father. Apologize."

I froze, stunned. The words had rolled off her tongue like they were the most natural thing in the world. She was actually scolding her most dutiful son to defend that no-show husband of hers. And to think, just last week, she could barely speak, her voice hoarse from illness choking her throat. Yet here she was, talking with the strength and grace of the Acier Silva I used to know. It was nothing short of miraculous.

Nozel was just as shocked as I was, stuttering in disbelief. I didn't blame him. If I were in his shoes, I'd be wondering if I'd wandered into some bizarre nightmare. His discomfort was almost comical as he turned to face his father, clearly choking on whatever apology he was about to force out.

"I-I'm... uh... uh... I'm—"

Poor kid couldn't even finish before Sebastian, of all people, cut him off. "If it's that difficult, just forget it. I don't care."

For the first time, Sebastian actually seemed annoyed. Not out of malice, though. He didn't care about the lack of an apology. What really seemed to bug him was how hard Nozel was struggling with it, as the kid would rather die than speak those words to his father. As Sebastian sighed, for the briefest moment, I swear I saw him pout. Who knew someone as cold as him could be so... sensitive? You'd think a man so cruel could handle being on the receiving end of a bit of disrespect.

Then I noticed something—Acier and Sebastian exchanged a silent, wordless look. A nod of understanding passed between them. That look sent a chill through me. They hadn't seen each other in months and barely spoke to one another. And yet here they were, perfectly in sync. It creeped me out how easily they fell into step like they were still connected in ways I couldn't begin to understand. For all their fights, and all their troubles, they were still husband and wife. Maybe, despite it all, some bonds run too deep to sever.

Nozel was shot a final frown by his mother before Acier turned her head back to face me. Acier, smiling warmly once more, turned her attention to me. "What brings you here today, Mereoleona?"

I furrowed my brow in confusion and approached her bedside. "What do you mean, 'what brings me here'? Didn't you call me? You sent a messenger to the Vermillion estate and everything. You're lucky I had just gotten back from my training in the Grand Magic Zones, or I wouldn't have heard a damn thing."

Her expression mirrored my confusion as she cocked her head slightly, bewilderment in her eyes, before shaking it off. "No, I didn't—" she started, only to be interrupted by a voice beside her.

"I did. On her behalf."

I turned, looking past Acier's bed to see Sebastian Silva calmly meeting my gaze, his hand still resting over hers as he continued whatever it was he was doing.

Great, I thought, now I have to deal with this piece of trash. I narrowed my eyes. "And why would you do that? What, too scared to face me yourself? Couldn't even use your own name to call me out?" I taunted, my voice dripping with contempt.

Acier frowned at my words, and I felt a small pang of guilt. I knew she had forgiven him—again—but that didn't mean I had to. I'd never forgive that pathetic excuse of a man, husband or not.

I expected him to react like any Silva—cold and prideful, maybe even indignant. But instead, to my surprise, he simply nodded, sizing me up with calm eyes. "I'm not ashamed to admit that, yes, you frighten me."

My jaw slackened, and I saw Nozel's do the same. Acier, for her part, only seemed slightly put off, before she chuckled softly. I couldn't remember the last time I'd heard her laugh, let alone in Sebastian's presence. And I couldn't help but feel a surge of... gossip-worthy excitement. Was this how noble ladies felt when they stumbled upon juicy rumors? I wasn't usually one for idle chatter, but this was something else. A Silva—Sebastian Silva no less—had just confessed to being afraid of a Vermillion. And not just any Vermillion, but me. The most stuck-up, self-righteous, nitpicky bastard in all of royal society, admitting something so raw. This was the guy who was neck-and-neck with Augustus Kira Clover, the bloated waste of space that called himself King, in terms of being insufferable.

Despite my internal glee, Sebastian continued undeterred, indifferent to my thoughts. "As for your first question, Mereoleona—would you have come if I had asked you personally?"

I scowled but conceded with a grunt. "No." I could barely believe I was admitting it, but it was true. There was no way I'd have wasted my time if I'd known it was him calling me. But to my surprise, he didn't gloat or flash that smug look I expected. He just nodded a calm acknowledgment.

"You still haven't told me why I'm here," I snapped, crossing my arms, impatience clear in my voice.

His response was quick and silent—a flick of his grimoire, now floating in front of him. Oh? He wants to fight? I raised a feral brow, but paused. There was no hostility in his mana, no malice in his intent.

"Deep Blue Room," he called out, his voice calm, as the room around us transformed. An ocean-blue barrier of water enclosed us, the edges rippling with light. I couldn't help but grin, especially as Noelle squealed with delight, reaching out to touch the shimmering blue glow.

But this sudden secrecy made me raise a brow in confusion. What the hell was he up to?

"Do you want to grab a chair and sit? This is going to be a long meeting," Sebastian asked, sounding tired.

"Not my style," I shot back, staying on my feet. I wasn't about to settle down until I knew what was really going on.

He just nodded, sighing as if already exhausted by the situation, and then finally spoke. "Acier isn't simply sick—she's cursed. Nozel, too. Both of them have been marked by a host for a very powerful devil. They couldn't tell anyone because if word got out, the caster would know... and they could use that knowledge to curse the people they care about."

I blinked. Well, shit. That's not exactly a casual bomb to drop. A quick glance at the grim, frustrated looks on Acier's and Nozel's faces confirmed it—Sebastian wasn't messing with me.

An arm of flaming mana extended from my back, grabbing a chair and dragging it in front of me. I flipped it around, sat down with the chair back against my chest, and leaned forward, eyes locked on him. My hands rested on the top of the chair as I demanded, "Keep talking."

"Normal doctors are useless here," Sebastian continued. "They can't even identify the curse, let alone do anything about it. So we have to find alternative methods. You, being a member of the Vermillion house, should know that royals and nobles... we're not always as pure as we appear."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah, nobles are shady—get to the point, old man."

He sighed, clearly irritated but pushing forward. "There are families in the Clover Kingdom who've dealt with curses or devils before. Some even research them. If anyone can undo what's been done to Acier and Nozel, it's them. So I summoned them."

"Okay, and…?" I asked, confused. Isn't that a good thing?

He gave me a look that screamed Are you an idiot? as he wagged a finger at me. I resisted the urge to incinerate him on the spot. "Do you really think people who study devils are going to be the most pleasant folks? There's a high chance things will get... complicated. They could resort to extreme measures, and we'll need someone strong enough to keep them in check. That's where you come in. I need your strength. Can you handle it?"

My annoyance melted into confidence as I grinned, poking my chest with my thumb. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to? Of course, I can. I'm the Uncrowned Undefeated Lioness, after all!"

But instead of the impressed reaction I expected, Sebastian just stared blankly at me, glancing between me and Acier. Even someone as bold as me felt a little flustered by his deadpan look. "Okay, undefeated except for Acier. But she doesn't count. She's my master. I'll beat her one day, though!"

Sebastian didn't mock me or sneer like I thought he would. Instead, he nodded approvingly. "If anyone can do it, it's you."

Acier gave me an encouraging smile, while Nozel just narrowed his eyes, clearly still unconvinced.

I brushed aside my unease and cut to the chase. "Even if they don't freak out, what makes you think they'll help?" I asked, genuinely curious. The worried looks Acier and Nozel shot Sebastian made it clear that they hadn't really thought about the possibility that someone in the Clover Kingdom might not be eager to cozy up to royalty by doing them a favor.

Luckily, Sebastian wasn't as naive as his wife and son. His lips curled upward into a smile, and if it weren't for his next words, I might have actually found it charming. "Then I'll just have you hold them hostage until they change their mind. And if they still refuse… well, what good are they then? Let's do society a favor and dispose of some heinous devil worshippers."

A thrill shot up my spine, my grin turning feral. "You know what? I think I'm starting to like you, you sick bastard!" There's nothing I respect more than someone unafraid to reveal their fangs when the time calls for it. I live for the hunt, and here he was, practically inviting me to sink my teeth in.

Nozel and Acier seemed a bit shaken by the crudeness of Sebastian's words—completely unfitting of a royal—but I could see the relief in their eyes. They were glad he had a plan and wasn't as soft as he seemed.

"So, when are they due to arrive?" Acier asked, her voice as soft and melodic as ever.

"Now, if you're all ready," Sebastian replied, glancing between the three of us. Well, four if you counted little Noelle.

Acier and Nozel both nodded, but something clicked in my head, and I raised a brow. "Where are the other two? And Aurelia?" I asked, noticing that Nebra, Solid, and Acier's younger sister—my aunt, Aurelia—were nowhere to be seen.

"I made an excuse to send them to the Vermillion estate with Aurelia for a visit. The fewer people who know, the better," Sebastian replied without a hint of emotion. "Those three don't exactly keep their mouths shut, and there are plenty of people who would love to see Acier dead. I'm not risking putting anyone on alert."

Surprisingly, it was Nozel who nodded in agreement, siding with the man he despised the most in the world—his father. But I understood the reasoning. When it came to saving Acier, no one could afford to take chances. As much as I respected Aunt Aurelia, she couldn't keep a secret if the world depended on it. And Nebra and Solid? Well, let's just say I had my doubts.

Reluctantly, I had to agree with them. "Alright, Sebastian," I said, addressing him by name for the first time. "I'm ready. Let them in."

Sebastian nodded, and on the wall in front of us, the water barrier shifted, morphing into a circular portal. From within his satchel, I watched as he pulled out an elegant communication device, encrusted with a crown jewel design and housed in a leather holster, the centerpiece being a glowing white communication crystal.

The crystal shimmered brighter as he spoke softly into it. "Alright, Alfred. Come on in."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the portal deepened into a black void, tendrils of shadow swirling and shaping it into a proper spatial gate. House Faust? I wondered to myself, recognizing their signature ability.

One by one, five figures stepped through the gate. The first was the Silva family's head butler, Alfred, who composed himself immediately upon entering. Without a word, he moved to stand behind Sebastian, his presence quiet but unwavering. But my attention quickly shifted to the next arrivals—two couples, standing on opposite sides of the room.

The couple nearest the doorway, positioned to the left of Acier's bed, instantly caught my eye. They looked... well, gothic, to say the least. It wasn't hard to peg them as husband and wife.

The man was tall and slender, his skin pale as death itself. His black hair was slicked back, his face long with a prominent nose, and he had no eyebrows. Dark circles of black eyeshadow surrounded his eyes, contrasting sharply with his black lipstick and nail polish. He sported a handlebar mustache and a goatee, adding to his eccentric appearance. His outfit was just as striking—a white, long-sleeved shirt beneath a dark grey vest, paired with grey trousers and polished black shoes. A red belt cinched his waist, and a white cravat hung over his shirt and vest. Completing his ensemble was a black coat with an upturned collar, and on his head sat a black top hat, adorned with a red band.

The woman at his side was even more slender, her skin as pale as his. Like her husband, she had no eyebrows, and dark circles of black eyeshadow surrounded her eyes, complemented by black lipstick and nail polish. She wore a high-collared, long-sleeved black dress, its severity broken only by a string of white pearls around her neck. A small black hat with red feathers perched on the right side of her head, completing the eerie, almost theatrical look.

My gaze shifted to the couple on the right—cleaner and more refined in appearance, yet somehow, they set off all my instincts. I had a gut feeling these two were the real troublemakers of the bunch. The man's grimoire floating in front of him confirmed my suspicions: he was the shadow user. The subtle pins on their jackets marked them as members of House Faust.

The man stood tall, around 6'1", his imposing height matched by an authoritative presence. His build was lean but muscular, the kind that spoke of both physical endurance and mental discipline. His face was sharp, with angular features that seemed to have been carved from stone, deep lines around his mouth and eyes betraying a life of strain and intensity. His piercing light blue eyes contrasted against his otherwise dark appearance, making them almost unsettling. Cold and calculating, his gaze carried the hint of something darker, perhaps a dangerous obsession. His jet-black hair, slicked back, was slightly disheveled, streaks of grey creeping in at his temples. He wore long, flowing black robes accented with deep crimson, the fabric etched with cryptic symbols and runes that only added to his eerie aura. A faint scent of incense or ash clung to him, deepening the unsettling vibe he gave off.

Beside him stood his wife, shorter than him by several inches, about 5'8", with a delicate yet graceful frame. Her presence, though ghostly, held a quiet strength and undeniable power. Slim and ethereal, she moved with the elegance of someone who had seen more than she cared to share. Her pale skin had a youthful smoothness to it, but it was her eyes—those light blue, all-knowing eyes—that hinted at some secret knowledge. There was an underlying tension or sadness in her serene expression, a fragility wrapped in mystery. Her sharp cheekbones and delicate features lent her an air of both beauty and sorrow.

Her long black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, almost reaching her waist. Though mostly dark, a few strands of grey were visible, less noticeable than her husband's. She wore dark, flowing gowns reminiscent of gothic nobility, elegant yet understated. Like her husband's robes, hers were embroidered with strange symbols and insignias, though they were more subtle, less conspicuous.

Together, they radiated a quiet, unnerving power. If anyone in this room was going to cause trouble, it was these two.

Just then, Sebastian stood up, drawing all eyes to him. His gaze shifted between me and Acier, before gesturing toward the gothic couple on the left. "Meet Nathan and Jonna of the Agrippa family," he said. We offered awkward nods, which were met with equally awkward returns. The pair mumbled something under their breath, their voices so low that I found myself sweating, trying to decipher the words. But their murmurs were unintelligible, just a blur of sound.

Sebastian, clearly as unimpressed by their lack of clarity as I was, shrugged and pointed to the Faust couple. "These two, you might be more familiar with. Draven and Lilith of House Faust." While I hadn't personally crossed paths with them before, their names were well-known. The thought of challenging a shadow mage like Draven had long been a source of my curiosity. And Lilith, with that foreign aura of power, was no doubt someone I'd want to face in battle as well.

The two couples exchanged a brief series of nods, a silent understanding passing between them before all four turned their attention back to Sebastian. The Agrippas, it seemed, had tacitly given their approval to the Fausts, as Draven stepped forward to speak on behalf of the group.

"It's an honor to make your acquaintance, Lord Sebastian, and Lady Acier," he began, his words flowing with practiced formality. "And to you, Lady Mereoleona." He bowed to the three of us, though I couldn't help but scoff at the unnecessary pleasantries.

"I believe I speak for both families when I say we were more than a little bewildered when the head butler of House Silva came to visit us personally, and secretly at that," Draven continued, his eyes narrowing as he cast a sidelong glance at Acier. "If this is about healing Lady Acier, you should know this is far beyond our expertise," he added, the Agrippas nodding in agreement as they, too, fixated on Acier.

The room fell into a brief silence as all four of them turned to focus on Sebastian again, as if expecting an explanation. Draven's voice rang out again, eerily calm, "But you're no fool, Sebastian. You knew that already."

Sebastian wasn't offended. In fact, I could see a smirk of undisguised amusement playing at the corner of his lips. He stepped closer to Acier's bed, positioning himself between us and the guests so that he didn't break the line of sight. Then, in a low voice that seemed to hold all the weight of the situation, he spoke.

"Of course, Draven. Let me cut to the chase and be clear. My wife and son have been cursed by her who should not be named. And I want to entrust your families with the task of curing them."

His words hung in the air like a heavy storm, with no room for misinterpretation. This wasn't just an invitation—it was a demand, and the gravity of it hit all of us at once

Sebastian Silva

As I voiced my request to the Agrippa and Faust families, I quickly closed the gap in the barrier for extra caution. It wouldn't completely stop a shadow user from escaping, but it should buy enough time for Mereoleona to capture them if they tried to flee. I wasn't too worried about their strength—after all, the Agrippas were never known for their combat prowess, and I highly doubted that Draven Faust was anywhere near the level Natch would eventually reach. It was widely believed that Natch was the most skilled devil host in his family. Even if Draven had contracted with a devil, it was probably a lower-ranking one.

Mereoleona, in her current state, should be more than capable of handling them. If the Agrippas and Fausts were offended by my demand, they didn't show it. Instead, Draven narrowed his eyes and spoke once more.

"So, you know about our families'... dark histories?"

"Yes, I do," I replied without hesitation. There was no use in playing dumb now. The sooner we got through this conversation, the sooner we could focus on healing Acier.

Turning to the Agrippa couple, I addressed the family leader, Nathan. "I'm well aware of your family's long history with poisons, curses, and hexes. I know that all curses originate from her—the devil who cursed my wife and son. And I also know that, long ago, your family made some kind of pact concerning this very devil."

Behind me, I felt Nozel and Acier tense up. Mereoleona's mana flared with anger, ready to strike. Without looking back, I raised my left hand, signaling them to calm down, and continued speaking to Nathan and his wife, Jonna.

"But I also know that it's your dream to turn your family's dark past into something beneficial for this kingdom. You want to use curses and poisons for healing, not harm." Nathan's eyes widened in shock at my words, and Jonna tightened her grip on his arm.

"To save my wife and lift the curse on my son, your expertise, research, and knowledge about curses and this devil are invaluable. So… please, will you help us?"

Then, in a gesture completely uncharacteristic of a royal like me, I extended my hand to a commoner.

The room fell into a stunned silence as Nathan stared at my outstretched hand, clearly shocked. Sebastian Silva, known for being an arrogant classist, doing something like this was beyond unexpected.

I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room boring into me, but my focus remained solely on the Agrippas. After a tense moment, Nathan glanced at his wife, who gave him a slight nod. He then turned back to me, offering a smile—though, with all his makeup, it looked more eerie than warm—and clasped my hand firmly.

As he returned the handshake, I smiled, though I couldn't help but sweatdrop when he mumbled something under his breath. Sighing, I said, "If we're going to work together, Nathan, I need you to speak up."

He looked at me awkwardly before clearing his throat and finally speaking clearly. "It would be an honor to work with House Silva and help save Lady Acier. Turning curses into medicine has always been my dream, and for you to give me this chance—to entrust me with your wife's life—means the world to me. From this moment on, we are friends."

Friend-starved, just like his son, I thought. His appearance might be unsettling, but I kept my expression neutral, thanking him with a smile as I pulled my hand back.

I then shifted my attention to the Faust couple on my right. "Every kingdom has a family entrusted with handling more... 'eerie' responsibilities. Like the Zogratis family in the Spade Kingdom, House Faust was responsible for researching devils and the otherworld to protect the Clover Kingdom," I began, delivering the speech I had carefully prepared beforehand. My words seemed to pique the interest of the Fausts, as Draven raised an intrigued eyebrow.

"But just like with the elves, the Clover Kingdom—especially its royals and nobles—grew fearful of devils. They showed their insecurity when confronted with the reality that there existed beings with far greater magic than themselves. In a kingdom where magic is everything, the ruling class couldn't accept the idea of being inferior. So they banned all mention, research, and history of devils and the otherworld, all to protect their fragile egos."

Draven gave a slow nod, confirming my words. I pressed on. "However, one family—House Faust—saw that as the height of foolishness. Your ancestors understood that once the gate to the otherworld opened, we would have no chance of survival without knowledge of what we were facing. So, while you officially stopped your research, you continued it in secret. Your family distanced itself from aristocratic society, retreating to the outskirts of the noble realm. In the end, you became nobles in name only, so you could pursue your studies away from prying eyes."

As I spoke, I watched Draven's eerie smile grow wider, his hand stroking his beard as the air in the room seemed to grow colder, raising the tension even further. Still, I remained unfazed and continued. "Personally, I found your family's actions honorable."

His unsettling smile faltered for a moment, clearly caught off guard by my unexpected praise.

"Sebastian," Acier called from behind me. Though we were seeking their help, openly praising devils and those who researched them was considered treason in the kingdom. A dangerous move.

This time, instead of ignoring her as I had done in the past, I turned to face her directly. Meeting her eyes, I mouthed, "Trust me."

Despite her weakened state, she stiffened at the gesture but gave me a firm nod. Satisfied, I turned back to the puzzled Faust couple, ready to continue.

"Keyword found," I said sharply. "Any pure intentions your family may have once had have withered away as you lost yourselves in the study of devils and the otherworld. Not only have you delved into forbidden magic, but you've gone as far as developing a devil-binding ritual—a ritual that summons devils from the otherworld and enslaves them, turning you into devil hosts. Your obsession has consumed you, just like devil worshippers and cultists, and if I let your hubris go unchecked, you will surely bring calamity upon this kingdom!"

If the atmosphere had been cold before, it was now scorching as Mereoleona's mana flared, her flames roaring around the room. Steam hissed and rose as her fire clashed with the water barrier surrounding us.

"These idiots did what?!" she growled in disbelief, stepping forward with fists encased in flames as she approached the Fausts. She wasn't alone—Nathan's grimoire floated before him, dark oil spiraling outward as he glared at the couple, while his wife hid behind him.

Meanwhile, Lilith Faust trembled behind her husband, but Draven remained eerily calm, his gaze fixed solely on me, ignoring the threats around him. "I'm sensing a 'but' here," he said, almost mockingly.

I nodded, turning to Nathan and Mereoleona. Nathan, to his credit, complied without hesitation—his spell faded as the black oil dissipated. Mereoleona, however, needed a bit more persuasion.

"Please," I simply said.

Surprised by the unusual politeness from someone like Sebastian Silva, she raised an eyebrow but eventually clicked her tongue in annoyance. Still, her flames extinguished, the temperature in the room slowly cooling down.

I turned back to Draven, ready to conclude my argument. "But at the end of the day, your family's knowledge and expertise are undeniably vital—not just to safeguard this kingdom from threats like the devil host who cursed my family, but to prepare for the otherworld. So, what do you say? Return to your roots and the original purpose of House Faust, and use your research for the sake of world peace." I couldn't help but think how much I sounded like Lucius right now. "House Silva will personally fund your work and provide the resources you need. I'm well aware your finances have been stretched thin since you distanced yourselves from aristocratic society, and your research costs must be significant."

Draven's brow rose slightly, his unsettling smile returning. "Aren't you worried that House Silva will become a target of hatred if our work is exposed?"

I shrugged. "Let's hope it never comes to that, or by the time it does, society will have shifted its attitude toward this field of research. But let me make one thing clear—while we will support you with funding and resources, we will not engage in any unethical practices, like human sacrifices. I know your devil-binding platform is littered with skulls."

Draven's smile faded into a frown. "We've done no such thing. All sacrifices are animals or magic beasts. The blood we use is our own. And as for those bones, they belong to failed devil hosts—people who consented to the ritual. To bind a devil, one must be completely focused and committed. Forcing it on anyone would be pointless; they'd just add to the pile of corpses."

I gave a casual shrug. "Just making sure."

"Father."

The word took me by surprise. I turned, bewildered, to see Nozel standing behind me. He had just called me "father." His anxious, flustered expression made it clear he was struggling, but I kept my composure, not letting the joy show on my face. Instead, I maintained my regal poise and calmly asked, "Yes?"

"A-are w-we r-really... working with these treasonous filth?!" he shouted, his voice trembling with indignation. He was clearly furious at the thought of being associated with House Faust.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Draven observing the scene, not offended but rather intrigued, curious to see how I would handle my son's outburst. Acier and Mereoleona weren't exactly pleased either, and their silence weighed on me. Mereoleona's mana still flared faintly, and Acier's fear and concern were palpable.

I looked down at Nozel, who was holding his baby sister, Noelle, in his arms—oblivious to the gravity of the situation. I gently brought my hand down to his head, and he tensed, probably expecting some sort of reprimand. But instead, I ruffled his hair.

He looked at me, utterly bewildered, as I spoke softly. "We'll do anything to save your mother. We don't want your sister growing up without ever knowing her, do we?" I gestured toward Noelle, her small form nestled in his arms.

Nozel's brows furrowed, his face slick with sweat. "N-no... but... this is wrong! It's treason! Betrayal of the kingdom and of our family's honor! How can I call myself a Magic Knight? How can I possibly aspire to be the Wizard King if I consent to this?! This violates human morality—noblesse oblige!"

I glanced briefly at Acier and Mereoleona. Both wore troubled expressions. Acier feared death, yes, but more than that, she feared losing herself and dragging her family down a dark path. Mereoleona, for all her wildness and defiance, had been raised with the same ideals of duty and honor that weighed on Nozel now. Despite her love and respect for Acier, turning a blind eye to a royal house working with devil worshippers was something she couldn't easily accept.

Only Alfred, the quietest of us all, seemed unaffected. He had already made peace with what we were about to do, taking to heart the words I'd spoken to him in our first meeting after I had transmigrated into this body.

I sighed, looking down at Nozel again, then surprised him by clasping his shoulders and kneeling to meet his gaze directly. His eyes widened as I softly asked, "Is it?"

"H-huh?" He blinked, tightening his grip on Noelle, clearly baffled by my question.

"Is this truly a violation of our duty and honor?" I elaborated.

"O-of c-course it is! What kind of nonsense is that?!" he yelled, his frustration spilling over.

"Okay," I responded calmly, nodding without emotion, which seemed to catch him off guard. Then I continued, "Why?"

"W-why? Why?!" He was beside himself, unable to believe I even asked the question. "Because devils, and anyone who makes contact with them, are the epitome of evil!"

"And what makes them evil?" I pressed. When I saw that he was about to lose his temper and likely summon his mercury magic, I quickly added, "Does not associating with devils automatically make someone good?"

He paused, taking a deep breath to regain his composure, though he was clearly struggling with the question. "Make your point, Father," he muttered, biting his lip in frustration.

I met his gaze and spoke plainly. "Nobles and royals are corrupt—more so than you can imagine. We run underground slave trades, assassinate rivals, bribe the courts to get away with our crimes, and sell national secrets to other kingdoms for personal gain. So what would you do if I told you that House Faust, a family that makes deals with devils, is one of the cleanest families in noble society?"

"Impossible!" he exclaimed, vehemently rejecting the idea.

I sighed and stood up, gesturing for him to turn and face Alfred.

Alfred glanced at us, nodding as he pulled out a stack of papers from the folder he was carrying and adjusted his monocle. He began reading his report.

"Young Master Nozel, Lord Sebastian entrusted me with conducting an investigation into House Faust and the Agrippa family to verify any foul play and determine whether they are trustworthy allies for collaboration. Please note that, given the short timeframe, these reports may not be entirely comprehensive. However, by bribing members of the royal court and purchasing information from multiple sources, I was able to reach a reliable conclusion on how to assess these two families."

He paused, glancing briefly at Nozel before continuing. "The report on the Agrippas is as follows: since Nathan Agrippa took charge of his family, there have been no indications of criminal activity or even minor infractions. Additionally, he has repaid all outstanding dues and debts to the kingdom and various banks accumulated during his father's reign."

Nozel remained indifferent, clearly unconcerned about the Agrippas, as they weren't the source of his anxiety. Alfred, unfazed, licked his finger, flipped to the next page, and carried on. "As for House Faust," he began, drawing everyone's full attention, "their only notable offenses include a potential failure to pay the appropriate taxes for May of the previous calendar year and occasional bribes to the royal court to keep their eldest son, Nacht Faust, out of custody whenever his petty pranks went too far. All in all, this places them in the top 1% of noble families with the least reported or suspected criminal activities and underhanded dealings. This pattern has remained consistent since they secluded themselves at the edge of the noble realm generations ago."

After finishing, Alfred neatly returned the papers to his folder and bowed. "Based on my findings, I conclude that both the Agrippa family and House Faust are reliable allies. That concludes my report."

"Thank you, Alfred," I said with a nod. He returned to his usual stoic posture, standing beside Acier's bed, blending into the background. I shifted my gaze between my wife Acier, Mereoleona, and Nozel.

"So," I asked, calm but expectant, "are you willing to follow my lead and make a deal with House Faust?" I waited for their answers, letting the weight of the decision settle in the room.

Acier's expression was conflicted—caught between her desire to live and her fear of endangering the family. Mereoleona clicked her tongue, crossing her arms. "The one who's willing is me. House Vermillion has nothing to do with this," she muttered.

I acknowledged her with a grateful nod and turned my attention to Nozel, who walked over to his mother. He carefully took her hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze while Noelle wriggled in his arms. Without even looking in my direction, he spoke.

"We're willing," he said, his voice steady but laced with reluctance. "But that doesn't mean I like it."

Acier's eyes welled up, her smile both grateful and sorrowful as she looked at her son. I took a deep breath, my gaze softening as I watched them. "If this turns out to be the wrong decision, the only one who has sinned is me," I said quietly.

Acier shot me a complicated look, about to say something when Nozel interrupted, still not facing me.

"No," he said, his grip on his mother's hand tightening. "I gave my consent. I'm equally guilty. It's not fair for you to take all the blame."

My eyes widened in surprise at his words. He held his mother's hand even tighter as he continued, his voice more resolute. "We'll bear all the pain and sins this decision brings... together, as a family."

I felt a lump form in my throat as silence settled over the room again. My son—the one who had every reason to despise me—had just acknowledged me as family. I fought back the urge to tear up. Not wanting to embarrass myself by continuing to look at him, I turned back to the Faust couple, needing to regain my composure. I extended my hand to Draven.

"So, we have a deal?" I asked, my voice steady, though my emotions were tightly restrained.

Draven's smile shifted from eerie to something more genuine as he grasped my hand firmly. "It's my pleasure," he said, his tone oozing confidence. Our eyes locked as we shook hands, both of us maintaining an emotionless facade.

But inside, it felt like I had just struck a deal with the devil. I couldn't shake the feeling that Alfred, in his quiet acceptance, was the one who had already made peace with this decision—when really, it should've been me. Looking into Draven's eyes, I saw arrogance, and a deep sense of foreboding crept into my thoughts. This man was foolish enough to believe that his son could bind a supreme devil, and I couldn't help but envision the catastrophic consequences. Images of Lucifugus' darkness engulfing House Faust—and even House Silva—flashed in my mind, threatening the very future I was fighting to protect.

I mentally berated myself and shoved those dark thoughts aside. That future will never come to pass, I told myself firmly. This is the right decision. I had to believe that. It was all for Acier, and for Noelle—to give her the childhood she deserved.


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