A Father's Hidden Torment
"How's the food? It's veal roasted with the spices Father mentioned before."
"Tasteless. Wrong spices. No, maybe I should skip them altogether. And it's overcooked. I told you I wanted it a bit less done..."
"Father, you can't go that raw. At that point, you might as well toss it back to the farm—it'd run straight to its mother."
"If that's how I want it, what's that got to do with you?"
The stand-in Rahman let out a deep sigh as they continued eating. It was a sigh laced with hurt from Galail's words, mingled with frustration and exasperation—the quintessential sigh of a son with a senile father.
"I'm saying it because I'm your son."
Galail looked up. He met the stand-in's eyes steadily, then grinned toothily, just like before.
"Right you are. You are my son. A father should listen to his boy. Yes... my son, Rahman Basker... my precious boy I'd trade my life for."
"So don't talk about eating raw meat. It worries me."
"Fine, I won't. Can't worry my son, can I? Eat up. You've got work to do after this. Even if I were hale and hearty, you wouldn't get a moment's peace—I'm sorry. So sorry."
The stand-in kept eating as he listened to Galail's mutterings. In truth, after decades playing this role, Galail felt like his real father by now. Orphaned and nameless, the stand-in had been taken in by Rahman and made his double. So Rahman was his name, and Galail—here with him—his father. It was as good a truth as any.
That's why every time Galail said things like that, a stone seemed to settle in the stand-in's chest. Madman or tyrant, prone to outbursts and mishaps... he was still Dad.
What the hell is Rahman thinking...?
Resenting Rahman a bit for sticking with a father like this and just working nonstop, the stand-in pressed on with his heavy-hearted meal.
"And then the sky appeared!"
BAM!
The dining hall doors burst open, and a white-haired girl burst in, hair whipping around her.
The stand-in's eyes went wide. He knew who she was—from what Rahman had told him. The outsider who'd killed Malcolm and Galak's crew. Her crazed eyes gave it away, so they'd brought her to the mansion for now. She might even help with Rahman's plans, or so the guess went. Treat her like a top-priority VIP...
But in this situation? No way.
The stand-in shoved back his chair and shot to his feet. "What the hell are you—"
"Rahman 2, out!"
"Huh?"
The scenery shifted. Startled, the stand-in looked around to find himself suddenly in the garden.
"The garden?"
It was the westernmost corner of the Grand Duchy gardens—the farthest from the mansion. Pale-faced, the stand-in bolted from the spot.
*****
Having shunted Rahman aside, Haneul dashed straight for Galail and thrust out her hand. Not too fast, not too slow—a probe to gauge his power. A B-rank hunter on the surface, but carrying a divine aura like that? Had to be something off.
"Where's my son?"
Galail casually extended his hand to parry. The moment their palms met—
KABOOM!
A massive shockwave and repulsion hit. Haneul didn't resist, leaping back lightly and pointing at Galail with a finger. Behind him loomed the mountains, so maybe she was pointing at both.
"Knew it, you power-hiding bastard!"
This level? Namgung Pyo would get pummeled, Baek Hye-seo would struggle. Roughly on par with Namgung Hwi, she'd say. Not that it mattered—she'd expected it.
What bugged Haneul was something else. Definitely Azure Dragon power, but laced with something weird.
Whoa, still powers I don't know? Hell yeah.
Her amethyst eyes gleamed with greed. Galail's dulled pupils reflected it, flashing back.
"Your speech is different now, and that arrogant glare... You're the new servant, aren't you?"
"What, you remember? Sane after all?"
"When a servant suddenly starts mouthing off, it snaps you awake. Answer me—where's my son?"
"Sent him to the west garden for a bit. Can't have him getting hurt."
Galail's gaze flicked west. Walls blocked the view, but he nodded, seeing 'Rahman' was fine.
"You didn't kill him. No intent to?"
"Nope. Just gonna crack open your head and head out nice and quiet."
"Ruin my dinner with my son and leave 'nice and quiet'? Ha!"
"I'll fix it back to—"
Mid-sentence, Galail lunged. Speed and force impossible for that frail, bent body. Almost like he wasn't moving himself—like a puppet yanked by strings, charging in a bizarre stance.
Haneul's eyes widened. How to subdue him? Decided to go easy—he did treasure his son. Not human-easy, though.
CRACK!
"Guhk!"
Galail ate Haneul's knuckle-rap and slammed into the floor. No cracks in the ground, no debris, no collapse—just precise control. Normally she'd stomp his back to finish, but he was Rahman's dad, not Azure Dragon. She held back.
"Hit confirms it."
Galail's body wasn't normal. Azure Dragon had hidden it well, but not from her eyes.
Already dead once? Alchemy revival? Stuffed? Time-embalmed by black magic? Vampire? Zombie? Ghoul? No smell, so not zombie or ghoul. What? Lich?
Dead once, soul crudely stitched into the corpse and jammed back in. Now Azure Dragon's vessel. What unholy mongrel was this? What did Azure Dragon want? Why hijack a human body like this?
"Alright. Time to crack it open."
Haneul now held a pitch-black dagger. Barely a handspan, teeth all nicked. She eyed it, then sighed deeply. Galail's worried face about his son flashed in her mind.
"Just stab and peek."
No full open—stab and glimpse. Wouldn't see everything, just key memories, but fewer side effects.
"Hya!"
SHUNK.
The dagger plunged into Galail's head. Body dead, soul alive. The black blade began reading the soul's deepest etched memories.
"Hm? Uh? Wait, what?"
Haneul's eyes bulged as she read.
"Plot twist..."
Born to House Basker, grew up amiable with siblings, became Grand Duke. Met and married his beloved wife, had a son... then she died suddenly. Incurable disease—ironically passed to the son. He died soon after.
Galail begged Azure Dragon: take all I have, just save my boy. Prayed three days and nights, then a fortnight more. On the fifteenth day, Azure Dragon answered—revived the son, claimed Galail's soul and body instead.
Thus, Galail's flesh died once, became the vessel. At first, perks outweighed: clearer divine voice, body healed from stress. But when Azure Dragon possessed to sightsee? Hellish days.
Each possession shredded his soul—it couldn't withstand divinity. Azure Dragon wouldn't let him die, though. Patched the fragments crudely, forced him to live.
Galail endured, unyielding. Had to, for his son to survive. So his mad antics? Partly real breakdowns, but mostly Azure Dragon puppeteering.
He even knew about the stand-in Rahman set up. Saw the stand-in as another son. Ten years together from age ten—how could he not?
Impressive he felt guilt when lucid.
"What a true father."
Haneul scratched her head, pulled the dagger. Fetched potion from sub-space, slathered it on. While at it, shoved in a millennium-old lesser ginseng root. Worried about choking, made him down a vial of purified oil.
Then pondered till he woke.
Memories from her first drop here. Never met that era's Galail, but current flow suggested little difference. Past failed, so recreate now perfectly—Azure Dragon remade this world, Galail as avatar.
Thus, when Haneul arrived, a higher god backed Azure Dragon. Couldn't rewind time, revive dead humans, fool her eyes otherwise.
She hadn't even known Rahman died and revived once. Power suppressed changes little. To blind her? A god she'd never seen, or vastly superior.
That thing from the Central Plains?
Post-master's death, Haneul slew and devoured gods per reincarnation. But the one master repelled? Never seen since. No similar vibes. Figured gathering power somewhere. But 625 billion years. Gods would gape. Assumed dead abroad.
Now? Maybe not.
Two options.
Mangled 'color' from master's sword lost power and perished abroad, or regrouped to devour this world. Latter? Kill it. Former? New worry.
Not her dimensions' gods—outer gods creeping in. Outer Gods, if named.
Haneul eyed the mountains. Dropped the concealment veil, scanned peak for the worm.
Then... an eerie roar from the summit. Audible only to her. Greeting? Taunt?
That arrogance confirmed: behind Azure Dragon now, an Outer God different from the Central Plains 'color'.
"Huh?"
Suddenly recalled Changgung-something. Gut said Outer Gods lurked there too—another one.
Gods don't have Constellations— what a mess.
Scratching her nose, Haneul glanced at unconscious Galail, then the door.
BAM!
Doors flew open with similar force. The real Rahman—not the double. Rushed here on urgent report.
Rahman's brows twitched, teeth grinding. "You... you finally...!"
"You bastard! The ultimate filial ingrate who doesn't get his dad's heart is here!!"
Haneul snapped back first, mimicking anger. Galail hiding this? A good dad shields kids from burdens. But witnessing? Infuriating.
Planned to spill, but Rahman beat her.
"Filial ingrate? Yeah, that's me. The ingrate plotting revolution to topple House Basker and all nobility. And you ruined it...!"
"What."
"Your eyes seemed like mine—thought killing Malcolm meant you hated nobles too... Wrong?"
"Oing?"
"Then why kill Malcolm? Not craving revolution? Just a murderer?"
Haneul plugged Galail's ears with her hands, mouth agape. Shocked by Rahman's revolution, sure—but more by this.
Rahman. Dad pathetically passed out, yet no worry—first thought: my plans. No glance at father, just glaring at her, berating.
Like he was a stranger...
Aha.
Haneul stared into Rahman's eyes, realization dawning. Azure Dragon broke both. Galail fully mad; Rahman, only around dad—acts the unfilial monster.
Inevitable thought: Galail's wife's disease? Azure Dragon's doing. Thus, House Basker's ruin—from start to end, all Azure Dragon.
As suspicion hardened to certainty...
Haneul beamed. Had to smile—or who knew what she'd do.