Father and Daughter
"Such a thing existed? Hah... well, better this way. No need to feel sorry for Drexler."
"Yes, but you must pay the full price."
"Of course, of course. Do I seem like a petty man? Artisans like Lendor are rare talents, so I treat them well already."
Tiny finally smiled at the duke's tongue-clicking. Deals had to be solid, regardless of personal satisfaction. From the duke's reaction, it seemed Lendor wouldn't need to haggle over the price.
A transaction where seller, buyer, and even the backer(?) were all pleased—what could be more perfect?
The duke seemed to share the thought, his smile deepening.
"It'll take two weeks to craft and calibrate the parts you ordered, right?"
"Yes."
"What will you do in the meantime?"
"Train, of course. From now on, every day has to build toward that."
He'd rocketed to 3rd stage Expert in no time, but the path to superhuman was just beginning. People lumped the walls at 3rd, 5th, and 7th stages as the "demonic barriers," but those who'd truly crossed them saw it differently.
3rd stage proved basic talent—the Expert wall.
5th stage validated years of effort atop that talent—the Superior wall.
And 7th stage demonstrated the soul's stature, forged by life's karma—the Aura User wall.
The walls to Aura Exceeder and beyond to Aura Master were another story—barely anyone had survived them.
"Oh ho? You've got the right mindset."
"Naturally. I wouldn't dare even dream of the superhuman walls yet."
Even reaching 4th stage Blader would demand far more effort and time than before. Previous life experience or not.
The duke tilted his head at the response.
"Dare not dream? Eastern lingo?"
"It means I wouldn't presume to harbor such thoughts. Picked up a hobby in Eastern speech after my looks drew me to it—slipped out."
"Because of your looks? Pffft. Yeah, you're a fun one. Smart choice too."
Smart choice? Learning Eastern speech? Tiny tilted his head now, but the duke grinned mischievously.
"You can hide your brains sometimes with it."
"Ugh..."
He'd learned it out of frustration from discrimination—demon this, that. Teasing him about it...
Confirmed: he mellowed with age in my past life. Personality was trash back then.
Reacting would just egg him on, so Tiny snorted dismissively at the duke's gleaming eyes.
The duke tsked regretfully.
"...Anyway, you're right. Shame— no fun teaching you."
Teaching fun? Tiny's teeth ground at the memory of mana-frozen freefall.
"I'd learn that Aura trait secret if you taught it."
"Too soon."
Tiny's eyes lit up instead. Too soon? Meaning...
"You'll teach it when the time comes?"
No matter the world's doom, this duke hadn't lived it. And Tiny had seen plenty of self-serving cowards even on extinction's eve.
Yet sharing a family secret?
"Of course. If it helps overcome the crisis, why not?"
Praiseworthy, handing out heirlooms for a common goal. Though the sole knower felt oddly irked.
As Tiny eyed him complexly, the unknowing duke affirmed gravely.
"Not to just anyone, but if you're humanity's ace, no reason to hoard. Don't disappoint me."
"...Naturally."
"Good. I'll trust you. Two weeks... Ah! So you'll leave the day after Cloi's coming-of-age?"
"Probably."
Not planned, but schedules aligned oddly. All three sons returning from missions—Valentia's grandest event this year. Likely the flashiest he'd ever seen, past and present.
But Tiny's face soured recalling it.
"...I know it's rude, but you'll announce that at Cloi's ceremony?"
The duke's expression hardened, but he nodded.
"Yes."
Imperial custom: betrothals at women's ceremonies, marriage a year later unless issues. Cloi's fiancé was...
"...A royal tie—even to the crown prince. How could we cancel?"
The crown prince.
Problem was...
"...As I said, he dies on the wedding day. All direct royals too. You'll proceed knowing that?"
Next summer's second calamity: Aslan Empire's direct imperial line wiped out. Sparking over a decade of civil war, crippling the strongest human nation. History's worst blow.
And personally, biggest victim besides the dead: the duke's daughter, Cloi von Valentia.
Widow of the tragic crown prince. Her first infamous title.
Knowing this?
Sacrificing his daughter?
It grated. No right to interfere, but...
- Call me sis! Cloi's laughing face, shadowed even in joy from past life. Impossible to ignore.
"Rumors say you're a doting dad, but not really?"
Tiny glared thornily, but the duke just chuckled.
"I know from you. No worries—I'll handle it."
"I only said rumors pinned it on the second prince, who died too! Vague gossip!"
Just unreliable rumors. And banking on that...!
"Past you wouldn't confirm either—just shaky info!"
Tiny yelled, surprising himself. The duke just smiled bitterly at the rudeness.
"Better than nothing. And the enemy's intent is clear."
"...Intent?"
"Chaos in Caron severs East Continent trade. Turmoil in the strongest nation sparks infighting. Even without later events, it's connected."
"Well..."
Already discussed. Why rehash...!
Tiny's flushed face twisted further.
"Rejecting the royals gains nothing—another match, same mess. I'd lose involvement."
"So sacrifice your daughter!?"
"Sacrifice? If I stop it, no."
"But...!"
No guarantee.
Frustrating, but duke's logic held.
"Even if failed, proper handling stabilizes the empire. Prep makes it viable."
He'd considered worst-case too. Tiny conceded it best, but...
"What about Cloi's future?!"
"Stop it, done."
"You're planning for failure! Then Cloi...!"
"Enough!"
The duke cut him short sharply. Face grim, but Tiny pressed.
"...What then? Your daughter's life!"
"Got a better way? Stop calamity, fix empire?"
"Tell the royals..."
"Believe us? If it happens, they'd blame us. Even if lucky, reveal you—church won't sit."
Tiny fell silent. Duke gripped his shoulders, blue eyes blazing.
"Didn't you want to smash the Demon King's skull? Burned at stake early? I won't allow it. Won't waste Valentia's heirloom. Got it?"
"...Damn."
No arguing now. But...
"I get your intent. Can't think of alternatives with my dull brain. But if you're so wise, ponder this: if it goes wrong, how'll you protect your precious daughter's future? I... got nothing."
Unable to swallow rage, Tiny stabbed at the father's heart, potentially dooming his child.
Duke's gaze darkened. Lips twitching, he sighed oddly.
"...My daughter, Cloi—she shines so brightly."
The abrupt line cooled Tiny's heat a bit.
"...Anyone sees it."
"Her character and talent shine more than looks. World doesn't know yet."
"They will. With your help, she barely salvaged the empire's mess."
The father flinched.
"...Yeah? She kept shining?"
"...Yes, brightly. Though never seemed happy."
"Hmph."
"Living as the imperial widow—you can imagine."
"...Yeah."
Duke winced, eyes shut. Tiny, calmed, bowed head as duke continued.
"No choice. For the world... If it fails, you protect Cloi..."
"Wh-what bullshit! Why me?!"
Hard-won calm shattered; curses flew.
But.
Smack!
"Ack!?"
Retort: head smack and roar.
"What're you imagining!? You protect my daughter? Who do you think you are!?"
"Ugh... Th-then what...?"
Eyes averting duke's fury.
"Protect Cloi, you bastard! Repay favors! Heartless? Ogling who!?"
Smack! Thwack!
"Ow, ack! Real violence sucks!"
"You deserved it!"
Misunderstanding over nothing...
"Flow of convo seemed... Ahem, sorry."
Unfair beating, but pushing meant blood. Bow for now.
"Flow my ass! Pisses me off more!"
Words harsh, but duke's flush faded to calm. He declared firmly.
"For world and daughter, I'll choose best. I'll stop it. I can—I'm Eschard von Valentia."
Voice brimmed confident resolve, prophetic, molding fate. Convincing somehow.
...Goddamn cool.
Slightly irreverent sole audience thought.
"...Hope so."
"Yes. So you grind too."
Duke's eyes held firm faith. Self-based, uneasy, but explained trusting Tiny.
Tiny wanted to test that steel.
"Of course. But overkill? Hypothetically, if I stole Temperus from you as a con..."
"Better that. I'd dance for joy."
Bitter smile only answer.