Wariness (2)
‘……What is that.’
The moment her eyes took her in, Sina instinctively knew. The deep, unfathomable abyss the girl harbored within. On the surface, she appeared to be nothing more than a beautiful young lady, but the pool of blood lurking beneath her feet……
‘Its end…… I can’t even gauge it.’
She had once nearly dragged the continent to ruin with the Monstrous Strength Chaos God she bore, and even as Sina, who had lived a thousand years, she couldn’t measure that profound darkness. Staring too long into those crystalline blood-red eyes felt like she might unwittingly tumble in.
The reason Sina had leaped up the instant she saw her wasn’t some bodily glitch. It was her instincts screaming a warning. Her senses, sharper than any beast’s, were telling her that this blue-haired girl was probably more dangerous than the Monstrous Strength Chaos God itself.
Right now, if Sina unleashed her full power, she might overwhelm her. But what about in five years? No, even three? That limitless, perilously talented potential couldn’t be dismissed just because it was still immature.
If the girl were her enemy, Sina would’ve done anything to kill her. Separate from the girl’s own wish for self-annihilation. It was the survival instinct every living being possessed by nature. And the primal wariness toward anything threatening that survival.
“……Hah.”
But Sina forcibly reined in the killing intent that nearly leaked out, drawing on her hard-won patience. She harbored a beast within, but at her core, she was still a human with intellect. She had the wisdom to understand the context rather than be devoured by vague fear.
‘So that girl’s Beatrice.’
Sina shot a sidelong glare at the man beside her, her face unable to fully hide the lingering unease. He looked startled by her sudden leap, eyes wide round.
Did he—Kyle—know what kind of existence his firstborn daughter was? If it was a case like hers, he probably did.
—Yes. I already have one adopted daughter ahead of you, but unlike you, she’s still a ‘real’ child. Just turned fifteen.
‘What’s a ‘real’ child supposed to mean, you idiot.’
From Sina’s perspective, who’d witnessed Beatrice’s hidden abyss without any mental preparation, it was infuriating. A real child? How was a girl with that insane power a child by any measure?
She vaguely grasped the reasoning, though. Upon closer inspection, the girl’s apparent realm was only around 3rd Hierarchy by mortal standards. If Kyle judged his daughter’s level by that surface alone, it made sense he hadn’t sensed the danger.
“……Hoo.”
A swordsman of his caliber, that oblivious? Sina inwardly cursed Kyle a few times before reluctantly sighing and brushing back her bangs.
She was startled by the unexpected monster, sure—but she still had things to do. Rumor had it the girl was genuinely fifteen, no lie there. Strictly speaking, the age gap with Sina was enormous. The girl was far her junior.
If anyone should greet first, it was naturally her role. So thinking, Sina suppressed her qualms and stepped forward.
“……Let me introduce myself. I am Sina, who has become Kyle’s second daughter this time.”
“……”
“You’re Beatrice, right? I heard a lot about you on the way. Let’s get along well from now on……”
She extended her hand, awkwardly feigning warmth. But—
Smack!
“?”
The hand offered for a shake was suddenly smacked aside with a light impact. Sina blinked, a huge question mark practically floating over her head as she looked at who’d swatted it away.
Naturally, it was Beatrice. Frowning fiercely, she’d slapped Sina’s hand away, clearly rejecting her.
Kyle, who’d been obliviously watching his daughters’ first meeting, froze with eyes bulging wide.
“……Haha.”
Look at this one. Sina, who’d boldly offered her hand as the elder despite ignoring her instincts’ ominous warnings, felt a vein throbbing crosswise on her forehead.
At that moment, Beatrice and Sina undoubtedly shared the same thought. Getting along with this stepsister…… was going to be impossible.
Real name: Kyle. Mercenary King of the age, member of the Seven Strongest, transmigrator from another dimension, tireless guardian striving to save this world from destruction.
Say it like that, and I might sound like a heroic warrior with a noble cause. But right now, I was in quite a pathetic state.
Knock knock—
“……Beatrice, you there? Are you even listening to me? Huh? Riche.”
A man crouched pitifully before his firstborn daughter’s door for the umpteenth time, mumbling desperately. That was me.
From inside came an overt vibe of ‘come in and I’ll get mad,’ laced with hostility. I sighed deeply.
“I’m really sorry. I mean it. With the second one…… I mean, Sina, I was so busy figuring out how to bring her that I forgot to tell you ahead of time.”
No reply.
Her presence suggested Beatrice was on her bed, buried under the covers hugging her doll.
In my seven years since transmigrating, had I ever been in such an awkward, distressing spot? I agonized over grabbing the knob or not, then awkwardly continued.
“Having a second doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you. Naturally, I’ll keep being the best father for you…… no, ‘daddy’ from now on. Without a single shortfall.”
One thing I’d learned living with Beatrice: she preferred “daddy” over “father.” Both as a title and in how I treated her.
Of course, I wasn’t just saying it to placate her. Hadn’t I vowed it during our last trip to the capital? I had no intention of remaining merely her protector. If she wished it, I’d be her daddy forever.
And an ideal daddy doesn’t neglect his first even with a second to care for. Obvious, right?
Even with Sina, I wouldn’t lessen my love for Beatrice. Sina didn’t crave that role from me anyway, unlike Beatrice. True “salvation” for her would take much work ahead…… but for now, our bond would be a clear, 100% contractual one.
Point is, Sina’s presence wouldn’t make me cherish Beatrice any less.
I sat pathetically before the door like some unwanted guest, head thunking against it as I muttered.
“……Cool off a bit, Riche. I messed up. Yeah? Tell me what I need to do. At least give me a hint on how to earn forgiveness.”
The proper attitude for a daddy who’d angered his daughter. Or a trick to get pardoned…… As if my mental database had such rare info. Past life: average 20s guy. This life: seven years of swordplay only. Not even normal relationships—parent-child conflict resolution? Ha. As if.
Right now, I’d take daddy tips from anyone. My blood was running dry.
“Riche……?”
After waiting ages before the door for a response that never came, I glanced at the window where dusk was falling and knocked again.
Thump thump.
“Riche, asleep? Or just ignoring me? Can’t you at least say which?”
“……”
Still nothing. Dead silence. Beatrice lay motionless on the bed.
……Maybe she really fell asleep. I’d assumed she was just mad and ignoring me, but maybe she’d tired herself out fuming and dozed off. Plenty possible—she’d conked out like that before.
“Hm……”
I rose quietly, ear to the door. Hoping to catch some auditory clue my spread senses couldn’t.
Of course, Schrödinger’s Beatrice—door unopened—remained quiet either way.
‘Now?’
Click. Eyes sharp like a hunter, I gripped the knob silently. Eased the door open without a hinge creak.
“Ah.”
“……”
Our eyes met: Beatrice, head peeking from the covers, glaring at me with hollow, weary eyes.
Cruel timing. Had she been crying alone? Her slightly reddened eyes made me flinch involuntarily.
“I said don’t come in.”
“……Uh, yeah. That is.”
“You’re the worst. I hate you, Daddy.”
Beatrice muttered weakly, voice thick with displeasure, then suddenly hurled a pillow at rigid me.
Whoosh!Thwack.
“……”
I could’ve dodged or blocked, but I took the hit squarely. The pillow smacked my face and slid down.
I bent to pick it up and return it—
“……Get out.”
“Okay.”
Her curt command, heavy with unprecedented grievance, left me nodding helplessly.
Creeeak……Thud!
Back outside, I rubbed my stinging forehead, thinking. At least for dinner, I’ll make that stew she loves.
……Though seeing her state, I doubted she’d even come out on time.
“Haa.”
The path ahead looked bleak. A strong premonition told me Beatrice’s sulk wouldn’t lift anytime soon.