Chapter 144
Chapter 144
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: Serecia, Dawn's Blood
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Lord and Lady Ludwig ran frantically, casting aside all pretense as nobles and family head.
Brim Ludwig, her frail legs barely holding her up, refused even to be carried and panted her way to the manor, while Kevn trailed anxiously behind, fearing she might fall.
“Congratulations, my lord.”
“A blessing from the gods, my lady.”
The servants bowed deeply and flung open the doors blocking their path.
They hadn’t even changed out of their mud-caked shoes (their tutor would have scolded Seri or Bran harshly for such a thing), so mud and flower seeds smeared across the carpets as they rushed along.
And then, and then, and then… the moment they reached the small banquet hall where the family took their meals, Brim halted in a daze.
“Hey, tch, sigh. Aki might get a pass since he’s always eating street food outside, but you know better—you’ve learned all your table manners, so how can you eat with your mouth all messy like that?”
“B-Brother. That’s tasty toooo.”
“Yeah, yeah. Wipe your mouth first—look over here. Ugh, what a mess.”
It was that familiar voice… the everyday sound that should have been right there beside them… the treasure that had been absurdly snatched away…
It was exactly the same.
The voice of her son that she’d longed for in vain in her dreams, pieced together from barely excavated memories…
“Ma, Shi, SSer!”
“Yeah, yeah, Aki. How’s our manor’s head chef? Better than what I make?”
“A-Mom, more, Ma, Ma!”
“My cooking’s better? Ha, you little… buttering me up won’t get you anywhere.”
Sitting beside Bran Ludwig, the boy scooped food for the red-haired infant of unknown origins perched on his knee, then wiped its upper lip. His hair was black.
His eyes were red like his father’s, soft yet resilient like his mother’s.
“Flatter, flatter, flatter, flatter.”
“Pipi, eat your fill too. Here’s that corn you kept whining for—take the whole cob. If you can’t finish it, tough luck.”
“Tough, tough, tough, tough.”
An uncontrollable tremor surged through Kevn’s heart. But reason suppressed it.
This isn’t real.
They were all said to be dead. Vanished in the black sun incident, not even their survival confirmed… right, survival confirmation…
“Rain…?”
At that moment, Brim Ludwig uttered the name of her son, who had died half a year ago and whose name was now carved on a tombstone—a name that could no longer respond.
“Huh?”
An impossible reply came back. He looked up, smirked as if pleased, and raised a hand in greeting.
“Long time no see, Mother. Actually, Father, it’s been even longer for you. You didn’t come for finals or the festival.”
Kevn almost said he’d been too busy, sorry… but his throat tightened, and no voice came out.
My son.
My proud son.
Amid faint breaths barely escaping, his vision blurring white as if shattering, Kevn nearly collapsed but steadied himself against the wall.
“I heard from Chancellor Madelia that I was already counted among the dead? Lady Casena was fine and alive, though. A funeral? Hmm, kinda hurtful. Though it worked out in the end.”
Kevn finally opened his mouth at his son’s casual response but soon stuttered.
“The funeral, well, uh, you see, that child is…?”
“This one? Absolutely not my daughter, I was just asked to—”
“—A-Mom.”
“Not your daughter? She looks just like you—”
“—Da-Dad.”
“Like what? Her hair color and eye color are totally different—”
“—Ta, ta, ta.”
“Argh, shut up, you little troublemakers! I can’t even talk!”
“Ta-gu-oo-mun-chi!”
“Mungchi, mungchi, mungchi.”
The banquet hall rang with lively laughter for the first time in ages, but Brim Ludwig heard nothing.
As if entranced, she walked forward and caressed the face of the boy who sat with eyes closed smugly, waving a fork and muttering something.
From that touch, that warmth, she knew instantly. No color-sensing magic, no detection spell. Just a mother’s intuition.
“M-Mother?”
The day he was born, she even remembered that cozy body heat…
Unaware of the hot tears streaming down her cheeks, she pulled her son’s face—returned from death—into a tight embrace and began to sob.
Kevn, staggering up, wrapped his wife and son in both arms and wept quietly. Rain blinked, then finally lowered his eyes helplessly.
“Sorry for worrying you.”
Faint tears welled in his eyes. The reunion with his parents was joyful, but that wasn’t the main reason.
If only.
Just a hypothetical.
If, three hundred years ago, Lin’s body had awakened from Juyeo Soge Daeban, those fools would have welcomed him just like this.
—Lin?
First, Rista—who stayed by his side until the day he died—would have greeted him…
And as Rista teasingly mocked his clumsy movements during rehab, the others would have heard and come one by one.
Kies from the archery festival.
—Kies…!
—…!
—Ack, stop, stop! Don’t pet me!
Fride with Tureina and Pipi from <Shuriganacus>.
—Lin?
—Lin, Lin, Lin!
—Master!
Kies would have ruffled his hair wildly, Pipi pecked his cheeks nonstop, Tureina clung to his legs sobbing. Rista and Fride would have watched and laughed.
In the end, they’d all laugh like idiots, forgetting the hardships overcome to reach this moment, chatting about how the expedition ended.
And the next day, they’d talk not about the past, but the future…
—I’ll head back to the magic tower first, say hi to Auntie Dean and my classmates.
—And?
—And… we’re going on a trip, all together.
They’d exchange surprised glances, then burst into laughter—just like always—when he shyly turned his head.
If only that had happened.
If only it could have, it would have been perfect…
“Awoo?”
“Wha?”
Aki and Bran, mouths smeared with sauce, spices, and meat bits, stared at each other and tilted their heads, unable to grasp the adults’ tears.
* * *
“You’re the rebel who came down from Trident Point leading the beastkin?”
From the incident of going to Harbadonia via Karenden’s power to crossing the barrier—I explained it all, and Father’s eyes widened round.
It was our parents’ bedroom. After the bout of tears, Mother lacked even the strength to sit, so we’d come here.
I placed a hand on Aki’s head, perched on my knee.
“Yes. And this is a clone of Harbadonia’s guardian, Alakishi.”
“Awoo.”
“Amazing. Such a lovable child… a true dragon’s clone.”
Mother, leaning against the headboard, snapped irritably, her face pale.
“Why do you always pick the most dangerous things…?”
“Huh?”
“With the true dragon, no problem, but going to the barrier alone… leading at Trident Point—if something happened to you…”
She coughed painfully, spitting blood. Father hurriedly wiped it with a handkerchief and fed her the physician’s tonic.
“Your mother knows full well. You had no choice. She’s just worried sick.”
“Is Mother’s health… that bad?”
“She stopped eating entirely thinking you dead, so just malnourished. Don’t worry. Now that you’re back, she’ll recover in no time. She’s always been sturdy.”
Now that I’m back…
Painful as it was for my parents, it was time to relay what Water Dragon Yeriserika told me at Trident Point.
When I finished, Mother shook her head furiously, unwilling to understand or accept.
“No, absolutely not. I won’t let you go anywhere… Who’d harm you here? Your father’s the head of a magic house, and Elector Sion protects us too…”
“I have to leave at dawn. Staying in one place will bring another black sun incident.”
And… I looked down at Aki tilting his head up at me, forcing a bitter smile.
“As I said, without Alakishi, I’d be dead. I promised to take Aki to the South Pole. To grow up among his kin.”
“…!”
“Don’t worry so much. I’m insanely strong now. Two weeks ago, I even tied with the Magic Fortress.”
Truthfully, self-imposed limits made it a win, but let’s preserve the Magic Fortress’s prestige here.
Mother stared blankly, then buried her face in her hands and collapsed onto the bed. An uncomfortable silence burned my throat.
Father broke it with a sigh laced with a smile, as if resigned.
“Don’t worry too much about Brim. Her head’s not clear right now. How could it be? Her beloved son returns, only to leave again.”
“Father…”
“Of course, my heart’s not at ease either.”
I nearly replied, but the deep sorrow in his voice sealed my lips.
How could I be such a fool?
When Yeriserika made me choose, I didn’t think of family at all. Past life or now, I’m still an idiot.
“But I know you must go. Still, sending you empty-handed worries me.”
Refusing even servants’ aid, Father led me to the head’s office.
Cool, humid late-summer night air flowed through the large arched windows east and west, mingled with starlight.
In that starlight, childhood memories revived: Father with me on his knee, smiling gently.
—Rain, one day you’ll sit here. No need to be a great mage. Just be kind to all.
I nearly repeated my past life’s mistake—a hollow laugh escaped. Nearly lost it again before realizing its worth.
Father had seemed so tall in memories, but his back looked smaller now, stinging my eyes.
Father levitated a heavy bookshelf with telekinesis, then placed a hand on the sturdy iron door behind.
“Father, what’s this…?”
“I planned to show you when passing the headship. That’s how all successions go.”
Five layers of magic circles rose brilliantly on its surface, playing a mesmerizing melody of light.
Five layers—5-star?
Who set such a barrier?
Recognizing only the permitted blood—the direct heir’s—the barrier flashed, and with a rumble, the door opened.
“This room holds our founder Ryuken Ludwig’s relics. Our family treasures.”
Ryuken Ludwig, Ludwig founder, was a 5th-circle grand mage active around the 5th century. His relics?
Entering the secret chamber after Father, I fell silent. Its form, absorbing starlight deeply then reflecting it in a single beam, was breathtakingly beautiful.
Father named it—the garb from tomes chronicling grand mages’ lives.
“Serecia (Dawn’s Blood). The robe said to be worn by Ryuken Ludwig. Feel free to touch.”
The fabric felt like blood woven into cloth—deep, profound. No hood, but a collar rising to eye level exuded dignity.
Reaching out entranced, I chuckled. Thump, thump… the robe’s mana resonated with mine, rippling.
Father watched fondly as I grinned vacantly, touching it.
“You’d know from books, but each thread is independent mana. A garment of mana, essentially.”
I knew well. It thinned or thickened with weather for comfort—a hallmark of Serecia.
More famed: its magic resistance. It deployed defensive spells with its mana against attacks on the wearer.
Even if torn in fierce battle, it mended once mana recovered.
“It really exists. I thought it was just a legendary relic from stories.”
Father smiled faintly.
“Yes, the robe our founder wore on his quests for truth. Now it’s yours to wear.”