Chapter 191: The Southern Continent
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 191: The Southern Continent
“Yes. Vivian Luna, the Star Witch, is your mother.”
The moment I heard Ophelia's words, a splitting headache assaulted me. Simultaneously, everything around me distorted and twisted until it was hard to recognize any shapes.
When my vision filled with a blinding white light, my very existence seemed to vanish. In its place was a two-story gray mansion on a green hill.
It was the Tobalts family mansion.
Through the pillars of the balcony railing, I could see the village at the foot of the hill. It was slightly different from how I remembered it. To get a better look, I tried to step closer to the railing and peer down.
“…?”
My hand couldn't reach the railing. At first, I thought the railing's pillars looked large because I was far away, but it was the railing and pillars themselves that were huge.
No. It was I who had gotten smaller. Tiny, fern-like hands filled my vision.
The superhuman strength that could shatter mountains had vanished like the wind. Overcome by a sudden weakness, I staggered and fell on my bottom. Even my legs were short.
‘I’ve gotten younger?’
My entire body had shrunk. It was as if I had returned to being three or four years old.
Was this magic? The suspicion was immediately dismissed. The undying witch didn't have that kind of power, nor was she foolish enough to use trickery when she had come before me alone.
Ophelia's words were merely the key.
The key that unlocked a seal—a seal forged by my subconscious as it tried to shut out my mother's schemes and the painful memories of my past.
Yes. This was a scene from a past memory.
The seal, which had already been loosened once by Aenya's words, must have finally broken completely.
I understood this instinctively. Just as I finished grasping the situation, a heated voice erupted from nearby.
“Vivian! Why aren't you looking after the child? Allen is the son you bore!”
It was the voice of my dead father, Maxim Tobalts.
Thinking about it, the situation was strange. Leaving a three or four-year-old child alone in a room? What if he fell over the railing?
Even if child-rearing in this era was quite rough, this was beyond the pale.
“I wanted a daughter. Not some swarthy boy…!”
It was my mother's beautiful voice, one I had forgotten. Though its content was the complete opposite.
My body had somehow found its way to the room where the loud voices were coming from. The door was slightly ajar, giving me a clear view of the couple's fight inside.
My father looked more youthful back then, more impulsive. Of course, if I was only three or four, he would have been in his early twenties.
My mother, Vivian Luna, was a beauty with brilliant blonde hair, unbecoming of the mistress of a humble knightly family. It seemed Aenya and I took after our mother.
“It's common sense that parents can't choose the sex of their child!”
Vivian Luna just bit her lip, unable to say that the children of witches were usually girls. It seemed she hadn't revealed that she was a witch.
Thanks to that, my father, Maxim Tobalts, sighed repeatedly in frustration.
Still, for his time, he was a top 0.1% husband. In an era where wives were treated as property, a husband's word was law, and he even had the right to beat his wife if she disobeyed.
Instead of doing that, Maxim Tobalts took Vivian Luna's hand and continued.
“My lady. Allen is the heir who will one day lead the Tobalts family. Even if he weren't my son, as the mistress of this house, you must take good care of him.”
“…”
Vivian Luna remained silent. Sighing again, Maxim Tobalts turned to leave the room and spotted me peeking.
“Allen.”
My view instantly shot upward. Before I could even answer, Maxim Tobalts had swept me up into his arms.
“Oof. You've gotten heavy already! That's right. A boy from a knightly family should grow up big and strong.”
His affectionate voice felt awkward. No, it was only awkward for me. His hand, stroking my head, was filled with affection.
It was a stark contrast to the gaze of Vivian Luna, which I saw over my father's shoulder, as cold as ice.
‘So it was true.’
Aenya's voice, saying it was Father who had cherished me, echoed in my mind.
After all, what father would hate the only son who could carry on the family line?
My thoughts didn't continue. The embrace of my father, which still felt so unfamiliar, was making me sleepy.
When I opened my eyes again, I was still in a past memory. This time, I seemed to be a couple of years older, and I was looking down at my younger self from a third-person perspective.
Little Allen, seemingly unable to see me, was toddling around the mansion. He then hid in a corner of the estate.
“Monica! Will you accept my love?”
Hearing the voice, little Allen hid at a corner of the hallway and peeked out. A male servant was offering a bouquet to a female servant.
His flushed face and trembling body showed just how nervous the male servant was.
In contrast, the female servant—Monica—had an indifferent expression. After glancing down at the bouquet for a moment, she pushed it back toward him.
“Dylan. This is sudden, and it makes me uncomfortable. We don't have that kind of relationship, do we?”
Leaving the shocked Dylan behind, Monica walked away. Unfortunately, she was headed right toward where little Allen was hiding. Startled, little Allen froze like ice.
Fortunately, Monica didn't seem to notice little Allen, and she revealed her unfiltered thoughts.
“Honestly. If you're going to propose, you should at least prepare a ring, or show some sincerity by getting decent flowers, shouldn't you?”
Soon, Dylan also left. On the floor where the two had stood lay the discarded bouquet.
Left alone, little Allen stared at the bouquet for a moment before moving. He headed outside the mansion.
Luckily avoiding the servants' eyes, little Allen left the mansion and fearlessly entered the forest near the village—a forest rumored to have wolves.
‘A year or two later, Father actually did catch a wolf there.’
As little Allen moved, my sealed memories began to stir and awaken one by one.
In any case, the incredibly brave little Allen went deep into the forest and pushed through a thorny bush. And though the thorns scratched his skin and drew blood, he didn't cry. Instead, he smiled.
“Found it…!”
It was because of the bright red rose in his hand.
Little Allen ran back to the mansion and went straight to the garden behind it. His mother, Vivian Luna, was there with her eyes closed in the shade of a large, old tree.
“Mother…!”
After hesitating in front of her for a long time, little Allen squeezed out the word and held out the rose.
Vivian Luna opened her eyes, and her gaze fell upon the scratch-covered little Allen and the dried streaks of blood.
Even at the sight of her son's wretched state, her eyes were cold. They were just as cold when she looked down at the rose. No, they seemed to have grown even colder.
“You little brat…!”
My mother slapped little Allen's hand away. The fallen rose tumbled wretchedly on the ground. She brushed off her hands as if she had touched something filthy and stood up.
“I should have known when I couldn't see the future of the child I conceived…! Ah, I regret it so much!”
Without a backward glance, she walked toward the mansion. Left alone, little Allen couldn't take his eyes off the fallen rose for a long time.
Then, as if struck by a thought, he picked up the rose. He paid no mind as the thorns dug into his palm, causing pain and drawing blood, and snapped the stem, crushing it and the flower in his hand.
The shattered remains scattered from between his blood-soaked, fern-like hands. When little Allen looked up again, it was with a deeply twisted smile.
The time that followed flashed by like a series of photographs. After that day, my younger self stopped craving our mother's love. Instead, I began to act like a true delinquent.
‘Was it a lack of affection…?’
It seemed my delinquent behavior stemmed from a lack of affection. Time began to flow normally again about a year later.
“Aaaargh-!”
A scream came from the master bedroom at dawn, and Father paced anxiously in front of the door, wringing his hands. Then the screaming stopped for a moment, stirring ominous thoughts.
“Waaaah-!”
A loud cry echoed from inside the room. Even little Allen, who had been watching with a sullen expression, widened his eyes.
Needless to say, Father's expression brightened even more. Soon, the door opened and an old woman emerged, holding a tiny lifeform wrapped in a fine cloth.
“My lord. It's a girl.”
Father's face grew even brighter.
“Oh…! She looks just like her mother!”
It wasn't an exaggeration. Even though her face was wrinkled, a sense of beauty emanated from her.
Even little Allen, who had been looking cross, cautiously approached his father's feet. Noticing him, Father crouched down to let him greet the baby.
“Allen. This is your younger sister, Aenya.”
“Sister…”
Aenya was extraordinary from birth. Unlike a newborn, she opened her eyes wide and met little Allen's gaze.
In that moment, little Allen's face flushed red, like a child who had fallen in love at first sight. Aenya seemed to feel the same, as she tried to reach out to him.
Just then.
“Maxim-!”
A cry that was almost a scream came from the open doorway. My mother, exhausted, was glaring in our direction with wide eyes.
Father immediately went inside and placed Aenya in our mother's arms. As our mother carefully took Aenya, her face was one of someone who didn't know what to do with so much love.
It was a complete 180 from how she had treated little Allen. In that instant, little Allen clenched his fists and trembled.
As he looked at Aenya, nestled in their mother's arms and monopolizing their parents' love, the affection from moments before was gone.
Time passed quickly again. Mother doted on Aenya with the utmost care. Little Allen, who always spied on them, would mutter to himself.
“When Aenya gets a little older, she'll be hated just like me. It's just that babies are creatures you can't help but love.”
It was also an excuse to justify his own actions of playing with Aenya behind their mother's back.
But no matter how much time passed, his mother's attitude never changed. Little Allen had no choice but to accept it: he was the only one his mother hated.
“Vivian. Allen would be happy with even half the affection you give Aenya.”
Maxim Tobalts had even stepped in, seeing the completely different treatment of his son and daughter.
“Can't you give him the affection I don't? I have no energy to spare; I'm focused on raising Aenya.”
Of course, it was useless. Father gradually grew weary of his wife's unchanging attitude. Mother, in turn, treated Father as coldly as she treated me.
It was as if, by giving birth to a daughter, she had fulfilled her entire purpose in the marriage—
The couple's relationship grew distant. Father began to stay out. When his only ally was gone, little Allen became even more twisted.
Then one day.
“Why! Why! Why won't it change! Why!”
Vivian Luna's scream echoed through the mansion. By then, little Allen was living almost like a stranger with his mother, so he reacted nonchalantly.
He simply tried to ignore it and leave the mansion. But his mother blocked his path, her face twisted into a terrifying expression he had never seen before.
Little Allen ignored his mother and left the mansion. He vowed to himself that when he grew up and inherited the family, he would have his revenge.
After that day, Vivian Luna became more and more neurotic. She would tear at her hair like a madwoman, bite her nails, and glare at little Allen.
“I can't accept a future like this. But no matter what I do, the future won't change. What should I do now? What in the world should I do—”
Her gaze toward little Allen grew increasingly vicious. It was a terrifying look, unbelievable for a mother to direct at the child she bore.
Little Allen must have instinctively sensed the danger. He began to watch her warily and avoid her. Then, one day.
Little Allen woke from a nap to find himself held in his mother's grasp. Her grip was so rough it was tearing his clothes.
Little Allen didn't realize it. His feet were dangling in the air. If his mother let go, he would fall from the second-floor balcony.
“This is the only method I haven't tried…”
Her hand slowly began to loosen. Meeting her crazed eyes, little Allen was terrified. He whimpered and muttered.
“Mommy…?”
It was a name he hadn't spoken in a long time.
In that instant, his mother's eyes trembled minutely. The ghastly madness faded, replaced by a look of bewilderment.
“Ah…”
His mother didn't know what to do. The only relief was that her grip tightened again.
‘So there was a sliver of love left after all?’
I thought, watching as a third-party observer.
“My lady-!”
Father's voice came from below. He had arrived earlier than expected and had seen everything. A fight was inevitable.
“I can't stand this anymore!”
“Weren't you the one who begged for my love!”
“Would I have done so if I'd known you were a woman vicious enough to try and kill your own child! I will not tolerate this any longer!”
Father hid me and Aenya behind him as he confronted our mother.
“She's my daughter…!”
“You truly disappoint me to the very end.”
“You're just a man, is that it!?”
Mother ground her teeth.
Father squeezed his eyes shut and locked our mother in her room. It seemed he still held on to a sliver of hope that she might change with time.
However, when Father left the mansion for a short while, our mother manipulated little Allen's memories, left a single phrase, and vanished like the wind.
“I will find a way, no matter what…!”
The reason she didn't take Aenya must have been because she saw a future where Aenya would be more miserable if they were together.
“Vivian-!”
Father, who returned late and realized what had happened, cried out. It seemed he had truly loved her.
That incident created a rift between little Allen and his father. With his memories manipulated, little Allen began to resent his father instead of his mother, and his father never tried to correct the truth.
Father was tormented, caught between the thought that he was the reason his love had run away and the fact that I was the only heir to carry on the family line.
Perhaps that was why he started staying out and, not long after, took a new wife.
When the shock had somewhat subsided, Father began to erase all traces of our mother. He was burning all her belongings.
A half-burnt letter, carried by the wind, landed at the feet of little Allen, who was watching from a corner.
“Allen.”
Because Father approached so quickly, he couldn't read the contents, but he could make out the signature at the very end.
Little Allen, who couldn't read yet, didn't recognize the letters, but the me of now did.
“Ophelia…?”