Father and Daughter, and the Guest
Deus and the duke's drinking session stretched on late into the night.
Not family, nor even acquaintances.
But thanks to their shared connection—Neferti.
"As you know, when abilities manifest in the Empire, they head to the Cradle. Of course, that doesn't mean they all become ability users. If their aptitude doesn't fit, or other issues arise, they can pivot to different roles."
Though such cases were exceedingly rare.
Everyone took pride in their duties.
The duke added that note before draining his glass once more.
"I've already lost one child. No parent has endured greater pain than I. I'm truly sorry for those others. But I don't want to become like them—so I desperately hope my youngest never walks that path."
"The student council president I know is an exceptional senior. At this rate, she'll undoubtedly become one of the Empire's top ability users."
"High praise from the Cradle's hero—I'm grateful. But even so, there's no guarantee she won't face tragedy."
"…I won't deny that."
The duke's words rang true.
Especially now that demons had appeared, the risks were even higher.
If Deus hadn't been there that day, the ones dying wouldn't have been the demons—but the Dispatch Unit.
Having already lost one child, surrendering his precious youngest would be too cruel a blow for any parent.
"The funny thing is… I lack confidence."
The duke muttered bitterly as Deus poured him another drink.
"If Neferti insists on becoming a full-fledged Empire ability user, I'll mobilize everything I have to stop her and drag her back home. But in the end, I'll just watch helplessly as she does what she wants."
What if his youngest ended up like his second son?
That fear gnawed at him relentlessly.
The duke tilted his glass repeatedly, spilling his woes.
"Heh heh heh. What a maudlin display to a young man I just met."
"Not at all, Your Grace. Seeing that you're no different from any ordinary parent… it makes your heart all the more understandable."
"Hearing that eases me a bit. I imagine your parents feel the same worries as I do. Hero of the Cradle or not."
Uh. Hm.
Deus pondered briefly before blurting it out.
"Actually, I have no parents."
"…Huh?"
"I'm an orphan, Your Grace. I lost my family in a gate incident years ago."
He'd scoured the body's memories after possession, just in case.
But the family section was a blank void.
An orphan, indeed.
A tragic one, having lost everything.
Thank goodness, in a way.
Family would have cramped his style.
"…Ah."
Duke Chester's face filled with profound shock.
He let out an "oh," then a sigh, fumbling "ohhh!" in bewilderment.
Like father, like daughter.
His flustered look mirrored Neferti's perfectly.
"I-I'm sorry, Deus. I mean… I never intended—"
"It's fine, Your Grace. Truly."
The duke kept apologizing.
Deus kept insisting it was okay.
This went on for minutes.
Finally, Duke Chester cleared his throat and spoke again.
"Truth be told, when Neferti messages me, she talks about you every day."
Deus nearly burst out laughing.
Anyone could see it was a blatant topic change.
For a high noble, his down-to-earth vibe was refreshing.
"The president talked about me to you, Your Grace?"
"Yes. Said an amazing junior arrived. That you'd shake up the Empire's ability user world. She raved—no exaggeration, seeing you now."
The duke eyed Deus across the table and nodded approvingly.
"A real man should be built like this. These days' youths are far too scrawny."
"…Frankly, I share your concerns."
"Right? We see eye to eye."
Age had caught up to him a bit.
His ability awakening was weaker than most.
Yet Duke Chester remained a warrior.
His body proved it—honed by flawless dawn trainings.
And that's why he took a shine to Deus.
Everyone neglects physical training for abilities. Strip those away, and they're far weaker than decades ago.
Then he met this giant youth.
A physique that would awe any martial artist.
Perhaps that's why he'd invited drinks so readily—like recognizing a kindred spirit.
"If possible, I have a favor to ask."
"If it's persuading the president, I'll pass."
"…Why say that?"
"I'm not heartless enough to crush someone's firm dream. I'd rather help them chase it."
Across from him sat an Empire duke.
Deus was, at best, a commoner.
Practically cutting him off with sharp replies.
Flat-out refusing to the face.
His retainers would have gasped at the rudeness.
"…You're a peculiar young man."
But the duke seemed unfazed.
If anything, more intrigued, lips curling up.
"True. Blocking a child's dream is foolish. But ignoring their safety is absurd."
Duke Chester lifted the bottle.
Deus politely offered his glass.
As he poured, a father made his plea for his daughter.
"Like at the Cradle. Help our girl now and then. Hearing about that demon fight with the Dispatch Unit… my heart was in knots."
"She's my senior. As her junior, I'll help as much as I can."
"Straight shooter. One last drink."
Will I be like this duke if I ever have a daughter?
Deus clinked glasses for their finale.
—Thud!
Neferti flung herself onto the bed.
It had been ages since returning to her room.
Last winter break, she'd stayed at the Cradle—nearly a full year.
"…"
Everything was identical to before the Cradle.
This place hadn't changed a bit.
Nor had her father, Duke Chester.
He was still dead set against his youngest daughter's path.
…No. More precisely, has he changed?
It wasn't always like this.
Once, he'd been the ideal father, cheering his kids' dreams.
Even when his second son—the ducal heir—chose to become an ability user, he'd just said, "Be careful. Get hurt, and you're in trouble."
Having lost his wife early, he'd poured love into his two sons and three daughters.
Raised them right, saw them grow.
Then his son fell in a gate battle against monsters.
Neferti vividly recalled her father's world-shattering grief upon the news.
From then on, he'd begged: anything but ability user.
Enrolling in the Cradle fulfills your duty—don't go further.
One hell is enough—don't make me endure it twice.
—Grip.
Neferti clenched her fist.
She understood her father.
Even she feared becoming like her brother.
Who wouldn't dread death?
Everyone craved safety.
A natural survival instinct for the living.
But still.
Despite it all, she'd walk this path.
She'd resolved it.
If grief or fear halted them one by one, eventually all would stop.
Only by advancing, risking everything, would the long darkness recede.
"…That's why."
Yes.
That's why I'll never step back from this road.
Father. I won't fear or dread this dream, this future.
It's not just a requiem for my departed brother, nor revenge.
It's what I truly want.
If I don't advance now, I never will again.
That's why—even with a Wind ability—she wielded it as a weapon.
…?
Suddenly, she noticed the manor buzzing oddly.
Neferti rose and grabbed a hurrying servant outside her door.
"Hey."
"Miss!"
"What's going on? The manor's in an uproar."
The servant couldn't hide his panic at her question.
"W-well… News just arrived. The Empire ability users dispatched to subdue a southern gate—all contact lost."
"All of them?"
"Yes, miss. So the Ability Agency requested a search team from the duchy!"
Ability users died or got injured fulfilling duties sometimes.
But total annihilation?
Not once in over twenty years.
Not even in the recent massive gate outbreak!
"…"
Neferti pondered, then headed somewhere.
Her brisk steps led to—
"Father."
Duke Chester's study.
"…You've been drinking?"
"A little."
His face flushed, alcohol thick on his breath.
Neferti eyed him briefly before stating her business.
"I heard you're forming a search team. Put me in."