My Greatest Choice
Four years later, I was making good money as a mercenary and living a fairly affluent life. I met Schvalier, became a mage, and ascended to the privileged class. Later, I joined the Imperial Guard and rubbed shoulders with the highest powers. Money, honor, authority—my life was abundant. I owned a mansion with a yard in the imperial capital. Commoners praised my career. Even nobles didn't dare treat me lightly. It was a life with nothing lacking.
But at some point, emptiness began to envelop me. Money, honor, power—none of it mattered no matter how much I had. A corner of my heart felt hollow. Not knowing what it was, I lived on in listlessness. That was why, four years ago, I'd made the crazy choice to raise the emperor's daughter. With no lingering attachments to life, I'd thought, "Why not give it a shot?" And that turned out to be the finest decision of my life.
"I'm home from school!"
The front door burst open. The girl kicked off her shoes haphazardly and dashed into the living room. She barreled toward me without even taking off her bag. I was sitting on the sofa lost in reminiscence, but I swiftly opened my arms. I caught her with practiced ease. A sweet fragrance wafted over me, mingled with that unique babyish scent of children. Smiling, I said,
"Welcome home, Eli."
"Dad's off work today, so I skipped playing with friends and came straight home!"
Julia—no, Elizabeth—grinned brightly and unreservedly. I'd changed her name from Julia to Elizabeth. Julia was an imperial-style name, but it needed changing. Elizabeth was a common name in Aihenvalt. I'd tweaked that part with memory manipulation. I'd changed my own name too. I discarded Gert. Now I was Leo. Leo was a common name as well. I didn't cling to my old one.
One day, drunk, my birth father had rambled that he'd bet my name in a wager with a friend. Penniless, he'd staked the name of his three-month-old son who didn't have one yet. His friend won the bet and named me. That name was Gert—the name of the man his wife had cheated with. That's why whenever he saw me after that, he'd hurl curses first. He said I reminded him of the adulterer.
"Dad smells so good."
Elizabeth, nestled in my arms, rubbed her face against my cheek and neck. Her breath tickled my throat. These little affectionate gestures buried my filthy past. The melancholy mood shifted to happiness. Elizabeth pushed against my chest and straightened up, looking down at me. With her delicate, jade-like hands, she pinched and stretched my cheeks playfully.
"Dad's skin is too good, isn't it? I'm jealous."
"It's not as good as yours."
"Your hair color's pretty too. I wish I had black hair."
Elizabeth ruffled my bangs.
"But at least I got your blue eyes, so I'm satisfied!"
She flashed a beaming smile, shoved me playfully, and got up to grab some milk from the kitchen. I watched her with a smile. The little kid from four years ago had blossomed into a budding young lady. Her small, white nose was adorable, and her mischievous eyes radiated a catlike charm. Now fourteen, the girl was preparing for middle school entrance interviews. She was already 167 cm tall. Her biological father, Emperor Marcus, was over 190 cm, a towering figure. The empress was tall too, as far as I knew. With their genes, she'd easily surpass 170 cm if she kept growing steadily. And thanks to my consistent exercise regimen, her posture was developing perfectly straight. I always told her to sit with her butt fully back against the chair and her back ramrod straight. Since I'd taken responsibility, I wanted to raise her the best in the world. I fed her good food, bought quality study materials, and helped with her homework myself. I pored over parenting guides until dawn to become the best dad possible. It all made our relationship harmonious.
"Want some milk, Dad?"
"Cocoa for me."
"Such a kid's taste."
"Can't help it if it's delicious."
"I'll make it. Just wait a sec."
Elizabeth handed me the cocoa.
"It's hot, so be careful."
I blew on it gently and took a sip. Mmm, nothing beats cocoa made by someone else. Elizabeth settled at the living room desk, sipping her milk while studying. Her shoulders were straight, lips prim, eyes gleaming with intelligence. The lively girl from moments ago had turned quiet and composed—a picture-perfect model student. I finished my cocoa and headed to the kitchen. I started cooking quietly so as not to disturb her. Menu: beef stew and bread. I diced the beef into hearty chunks with precise knife work, crushed tomatoes for the base, added various ingredients, and simmered until thick. After a few dozen minutes, the stew was done. At the end, I sprinkled in some pricey pepper I'd splurged on. Worth every coin—I was satisfied. I set out two plates, sliced the bread neatly onto each, and ladled the finished stew. I arranged the table and went behind Elizabeth, kneading her shoulders.
"Look at these knotted shoulders. Come eat."
"Massage later?"
"Sure."
What wouldn't I do for my hardworking daughter? We sat at the table, facing each other. Elizabeth only started eating after I took the first bite. She didn't have to be so formal, but she was overly polite sometimes.
"School's not too tough?"
"It's fine. It's basically over now—just the interview left. You're okay, right, Dad? With work."
Elizabeth tore bread and dipped it in stew. I replied,
"I've been doing it for four years, so yeah. And it's physical labor like my old gig as your dad—manageable."
"Still, it's hard. Can't you do something else?"
"Haha, I like this job."
I laughed, but Elizabeth didn't.
"Still...! You're turning thirty soon. Manual labor will wreck your body. We learned about it in school today."
She spoke earnestly, but I brushed it off with an awkward smile.
"Trying to dodge again. You never listen."
She glared, sharp as ever. She wasn't fooled anymore. She'd been bringing this up for almost two months. Today, she wasn't letting it slide. She was dead set on freeing me from manual labor. Lacking a better job, I'd stuck with construction work. I had other options, but I didn't want to risk imperial intelligence sniffing around. I was content with the status quo—a kind of burnout. I'd slaved as a mercenary for cash, crammed magic under Schvalier, handled the empire's dirtiest jobs as an Imperial Guard. No desire to dive back into the grind. But Elizabeth's words came from worry. She wouldn't nag for two months if she didn't care. What a good kid. I reached out and ruffled her hair.
"Aigoo."
Her lush golden locks got tousled roughly.
"...Hmph."
Unhappy her point wasn't acknowledged, she pouted and glared. She snatched my hand mid-ruffle, slammed it on the table, and pointed dramatically with her other.
"Look at this! You think this is okay?!"
My hand was a mess. Knuckles bulged unevenly, skin rough and hard as sandstone. Scars from blades tearing and slicing crisscrossed it. And dominating it all: the burn scar on my right forearm, from midsection down. The skin twisted like scorched tree roots, writhing. Some patches rough, others unnaturally smooth—translucent enough to reveal muscle fibers beneath.
"And it's getting worse with hands like these...!"
Elizabeth kneaded my repulsive right arm without flinching. I pulled it away.
"What about it? It's so wrecked already—no one notices new marks."
Truth was, most scars were old. No injuries from manual labor. She was misunderstanding. As if a sword master's body would break from grunt work? But unaware of the details, she clenched her fists with fervor.
"I'll succeed and make you quit. Just wait for me! Teacher says if I do well, I can get into Lenz School."
Lenz School was the kingdom's top academy. Elizabeth had excelled since childhood. She grasped every theory I taught inside out. Objectively, she was a prodigy.
"Once I graduate Lenz and make it big, first thing: you quit your job. Then the house—with a yard and a little pond. Oh, and servants! To cook and clean instead of you."
Her dreams of a happy future were adorably endearing. Smiling, I added,
"Aigoo, planning to stick with your old man forever?"
"Hehe."
"I've set up a savings account for you. By the time you're grown, it'll be a nice chunk."
After three years of residency, I'd gained citizenship. No more hiding cash—I could bank it properly now.
"Where'd you get money for that, Dad?"
"You think all manual labor pays the same? I make decent money. Supporting one girl to independence? Piece of cake."
Elizabeth tilted her head.
"Independence?"
"Yeah, gotta live on your own when you're grown."
For a brief moment, silence fell.
Elizabeth broke it off-beat.
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why do I have to?"
Her oddly subdued tone made me uneasy. She was still smiling as she said,
"I'm gonna live with you forever, Dad."
"Yeah, yeah, sure. Guess I'll use that money myself then."
I teased lightly.
"Yeah, you use it. I just need you, Dad."
She smiled with her eyes. I changed the subject.
"Anyway, when's the interview?"
Lenz School's process: written exam first, interview second. Elizabeth aced elementary with top grades. The principal wrote her a recommendation letter—one per year, precious. It fast-passed the exam. Only the interview loomed.
"Next month. You come with me, Dad."
Parent accompaniment, huh? Fitting for a prestigious school.
"Guess I need new clothes."
I cleared the plates into the sink and opened the closet. Austere workwear greeted me. Nothing suitable for an interview—I only went to construction sites or shops.
The Guard uniform would work, but I can't wear that.
The Imperial Guard uniform—representing the royals—was impeccably tailored and stylish. For the record, I had the uniform, hat, and ID safely stored. They weren't just clothes; they were gear. Might need them in a fight. The emperor's letter and ring were there too. I didn't wear the ring—saving it for Elizabeth when she left home. Anyway, with all the hideable stuff tucked away, I had few options. Home-to-site routine didn't call for fancy attire.
"Yeah, no good clothes."
"Then let's go shopping together. I'll pick yours out."
Elizabeth jumped up, eyes sparkling like a cat pouncing on prey.
"Sounds good. We can get you some too."
It was Saturday tomorrow. No school for her, no work for me.