By the time I woke up, I found myself in a surprisingly comfortable bed, resting on sheets with a texture I hadn't felt since the mansion in Roa. I was tucked in from neck to toe, and my hair felt damp.
"Mmh?" I mumbled, touching my hair and the clothes I was wearing—a pair of shorts and a short-sleeved shirt made of soft fabric.
What exactly happened? I remember passing out in the middle of the street, right in front of the Guild. After that, everything went dark. I couldn't figure out where I was until the door to the "room" opened, revealing my Aunt Therese carrying a tray of food.
"Oh... you're awake, Sleeping Beauty," she said with a touch of irony, sitting on the edge of the bed and setting the tray down near me. She looked worn out, like she'd just come from an argument. She was wearing a long, elegant dress in shades of white and pale blue.
"Sorry, but... can you tell me what happened?" I sat up slowly, adjusting the tray on my lap.
She just smiled.
"Do you always ask so many questions? You were chatting away even in your sleep. You kept saying: 'Zenith… Mom, why does healing magic work like this?'"
It was true. I remembered dreaming about the time my mother taught me healing magic. Back then, and even now, I desperately wanted to understand it so I could help others.
I pushed the thoughts aside and replied, "You see… I'm just the curious type."
"You collapsed two days ago and didn't wake up until now. I bathed you myself because I didn't want a maid doing it. You're my nephew, after all. If I missed out on taking care of you as a baby, I wasn't about to miss this chance."
"You… bathed me…?" I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my face. I thought I was past the age where that kind of thing was acceptable.
"So? To me, you're still a boy. Besides, I wasn't about to let you sleep in a nice bed smelling like a goblin."
"Right, I get it… and…" I glanced around the room, searching. "Do you know where it is?"
"Where what is?" she asked, confused.
"My… my sword."
I hadn't accounted for the fact people couldn't lift it...
"This sword?" She pulled a large box from under the bed and opened it, revealing the weapon still in its sheath. "I have to admit, that sword has quite the bite... so I had some people quickly stow it away in here. I must say, it certainly drew a crowd."
Thank god... "Did they ask any questions?"
"Not a single one. They just assumed it's a sword with some kind of spell on it; in this case, they figured a 'Weight' or 'Binding' spell was the most likely explanation."
With that settled, she reached out and pinched my cheek, stretching it. "You're really too cute… You put on such a serious face, but you still flushed when I mentioned cleaning you up. Kyaaaa!"
My face burned again, so I tried to change the subject immediately.
"Thank you so much, Aunt. For taking care of me, for bringing me here, and even for treating my weapon with care. Seriously… I'm really grateful." Because of that gratitude, I couldn't keep lying to her about Paul.
However, my sincerity seemed to throw her off... She looked confused, surprised even, but to my dismay, it only gave her another reason to squeal.
"Kyaaaaa! You're an angel! A true angel!" she shouted, tackling me into a hug that, frankly, put my physical resistance and my newly recovered lung capacity to the test.
I wasn't used to these displays of affection, but I couldn't bring myself to complain. It felt… nice. It reminded me of my time with Mom.
I took a breath and said, "Aunt, about my father…"
She tensed up slightly. "Even after what your father did, you still want to protect him… You really are a saint."
(Well, I tried… I'll try to explain it to her after breakfast.)
[I know you're worried about Father…]
(It's just that, if he comes looking for me… I don't want him to find out I lied about the situation. He might hate me or something.)
[Or maybe he'll think you were just a kid looking for shelter. He knows the Latreia family, so he'll understand the play.]
"Cliff asked about you. He said something about being annoyed, and he had a cloak in his hand."
Ah, I'd forgotten about that…
"He said I was late, didn't he?" I scratched the back of my neck awkwardly.
"Yes, but he left the cloak anyway. I think he refused to hand it over personally… He's just that way—too proud to deliver something himself."
Therese stood up, smoothing her dress with her hands.
"Alright, I'll let you change. Your clothes are clean and folded next to the cloak. But listen to me closely, Daiki... We are in the main Latreia residence. My mother... your grandmother, and the council elders, they all know you're here. They know you're Zenith's son."
I swallowed hard. I knew Millis politics were a minefield.
"Do they know... who else's son I am?" I asked cautiously.
Therese grimaced, though she tried to hide it quickly.
"They know. That's why I kept you in this room. To them, you're a 'tainted product' that needs to be evaluated. But as long as you're with me, I won't let them touch a hair on your head. Just... try not to cause trouble, okay? If you run into my mother, be as polite as you've been with me."
"I promise, Aunt. I'll be the picture of elegance," I said—and I wasn't lying; I had studied etiquette extensively.
She smiled, her usual brightness returning. "That's my nephew!"
She slipped out and closed the door softly, leaving me alone with more questions than answers.
What was the first thing I needed to do? I looked at the breakfast tray, feeling myself practically salivating. It was a clear sign that my nutrient intake had been inefficient over the last 48 hours, compounded by the fact that I hadn't eaten much since arriving in Millishion. I quickly grabbed the teacup and downed it. It was a bit cold, but a quick Heat Hand was enough to make it enjoyable.
"Tastes like home," I murmured.
The breakfast was delicious: toast with exquisite jam, eggs, some meat, and fruit. A complete meal—fiber, protein, and carbohydrates. Exactly what my body was screaming for to recover from the magical and physical exhaustion. I didn't leave a single crumb.
[Seems like rest and high-quality food worked wonders.]
(I know. I haven't felt this good in a long time...)
[Don't get used to it. I doubt we'll be eating like royalty when we're back on the road.]
(I know that, too. Just let me enjoy the moment.)
After eating, I walked over to the clothes. It was a simple ensemble: dark trousers made of sturdy fabric, a crisp white button-down shirt, and a vest that looked tailor-made.
When I put them on, I noticed the fit was perfect. They probably took my measurements while I slept. Then I glanced at the coat rack where the hooded cloak hung. It was a dark gray; when I put it on, it reached all the way to my ankles. Perfect.
After changing, I walked toward Temphestalis… No. If I had to meet my grandmother, it was better to do it without carrying it. She'd think I was planning to attack her, and considering it had been hidden away, she probably didn't even know the weapon existed.
Then, Ayam spoke up:
[Good call. If that woman is as strict as she seems, walking into her tea room with a giant sword would give her the perfect excuse to label you a savage.]
(Exactly. Today I am not an adventurer or a swordsman. Today I am Daiki, the son of Zenith.)
I took one last look in the mirror and headed for the exit.
I opened the door.
Therese was waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. When she saw me, she straightened up, her eyes widening in surprise as she scanned me from head to toe.
"Wow..." she let out a low whistle—hardly ladylike, but very Therese. "You look... incredibly decent. If I didn't know you were drooling into your pillow a few hours ago, I'd say you were a prince from some distant kingdom."
She stepped closer and adjusted my collar with a motherly touch.
"Thanks, Aunt. The clothes are really comfortable," I replied with a calm smile.
"I'm glad. And I see you left that monstrous thing in the room," she said, glancing at my empty waist. "Wise choice. The elders would have a heart attack if they saw bare steel in the house."
"I figured it would be for the best. I don't want to cause unnecessary trouble."
"Well said. Come on, let's stretch our legs."
We walked through the mansion's corridors. They were wide, with high ceilings, decorated with an exquisite but austere taste—very different from the sometimes ostentatious style of the Greyrats. In Roa, it was common to hear Sauros shouting all over the place, or Phillip trying to scheme his way into getting me to court his daughter.
However, the calm lasted only until we turned a corner in the main hallway.
Therese stopped abruptly; I felt her demeanor tense up instantly. It was the first time I had seen her like this.
Ahead of us, accompanied by two maids walking a step behind, came an elderly woman.
"Mother…" Therese whispered, bowing her head slightly.
But the woman didn't look at Therese. Instead, she fixed her gaze on me—or rather, a bit higher. On my strange hair. The bane of my existence, something I often wished I could change.
She squinted occasionally, searching for some imperfection, dirt, or vulgarity. But all she found was a boy who wasn't nervous or lost in thought; he simply was.
She said nothing, letting the silence hang for a long time, so I decided to break the tension.
I performed the bow of a noble and spoke clearly: "It is an honor to finally meet you, Matriarch Latreia. I am Daiki. I deeply apologize if my sudden and unconscious arrival has caused any inconvenience to your household."
Claire blinked. Once. Twice... Three times, before she spoke.
"You..." Her voice sounded dry. "...speak properly."
She took a step toward me, invading my personal space to examine me closer. Her eyes—so different from mine—bore directly into me.
"Black hair... red eyes..." she muttered, almost to herself. "At least you don't look like that man..."
"I've been told I have my mother's nose, my Lady," I replied softly, maintaining my formal tone.
She merely scoffed.
"Hmph. We'll see if it's just the nose or if you also inherited any of her sense, though I doubt it given the blood running through your veins," she said harshly. Still, the fact that she hadn't shouted yet was a victory.
She turned to Therese, ignoring me for the moment.
"Therese, take him to the inner garden. I want to speak with him before the elders start sniffing around. If he actually has manners and isn't just putting on an act, perhaps this won't be a total waste of time."
"Yes, Mother," Therese replied quickly.
Claire looked back at me.
"Don't think a few good manners will erase the fact that you are a Greyrat, boy. But… I appreciate that you aren't a filthy savage. Don't make me change my mind. Even so, I intend to verify if you really are Zenith's son."
And with that, she brushed past us, side-eying me until she disappeared from view. I finally let out the breath I'd been holding. Had I done okay?
"Where did you learn to bow like that?"
"I read a lot of books, Aunt," I replied, letting my shoulders relax. "Survival isn't just about knowing how to swing a sword."
Therese smiled and slapped me on the back. "You're right. Handsome and diligent. Come on, before she changes her mind. You survived round one."
Regarding the proof of my lineage… I had a plan: demonstrate my aptitude for advanced healing and detoxification. My mother was exceptional at it; perhaps that would be enough.
In the garden sat Claire, a cup of tea before her. She didn't look like a grandmother waiting for her grandson; she looked like a judge awaiting the accused.
Therese stopped a few steps back, signaling for me to go on alone.
"Go ahead," she whispered. "The stage is yours."
I walked until I stood at a respectful distance and waited. Claire set her cup on the saucer and looked up.
"If you truly are my daughter's son, prove to me that you know how to do something other than butcher meat."
I nodded slowly. This was it.
"My mother always told me that healing magic is the act of sharing one's own vitality to mend another's," I said, repeating the words Zenith used to tell me when I sat on her lap as a child. "It is not merely a spell; it is a prayer."
Claire's eyes widened slightly at that specific phrase.
There was no one injured nearby, so I lacked an obvious target. However, I noticed something. Near Claire's boot, a white rose had been accidentally trampled, likely by a nervous servant.
I knelt beside the flower.
"What do you think you're doing?" Claire asked impatiently.
"Proving my heritage," I replied calmly.
I closed my eyes and focused my mana.
"Angel of miracles, bestow thy holy breath unto the pulsing heart before thee. O heavens blessed with sunlight, servants who despise crimson, swoop down into the ocean of light, the pure white of thy wings spread wide. Drive away the blood thou seest before thee!"
Perhaps it was overkill for a single plant; intermediate healing would have sufficed. But I needed to prove I could cast Advanced-Rank healing magic. After all, it was the only real proof I had aside from the "nose"—which was too ambiguous, or merely a coincidence in her eyes.
I stood up slowly, brushing imaginary dust from my trousers, and looked at my grandmother.
"My mother was very strict with my studies. She said that to heal the body, one must first understand the flow of life. She even bought me a magic book so I could perfect it."
Claire Latreia stared at the rose. Slowly, she lifted her gaze to me.
"That light..." she whispered. "That warmth... it's identical to hers. And your pronunciation was flawless..."
"Zenith ensured I memorized every word before she allowed me to attempt the spell," I replied, giving all the credit to Mom. It was the best strategy. She never actually needed to enforce that; she knew I always remembered even the smallest details.
[You forget a lot of things… like the fact that you're actually good at this. That you were never a burden, and that you always forget how incredible you are. You either forget it or you just don't see it.]
(Ayam… not now.)
[I'm just telling you so you remember… and I'll remind you every day until you get it.]
"Fine. I acknowledge it," she finally declared. "You are Zenith's son. There is no doubt. That man... that barbarian could never have fathered or taught such pure magic. The Latreia blood is strong in you, despite your appearance."
"Sit, Daiki. Now that we've established you aren't a fraud, I need to understand something. What is a child with your talent doing alone in Millis? Therese claims you appeared out of nowhere."
Shit. I knew what this meant… I couldn't just tell her the truth.
"If I may, Mother. I'm sure Paul threw him out of the house because he didn't look like him. He saw him as the son of a bastard, so the boy came here seeking refuge with his family."
At some point, I'll have to tell the truth. I can't just lie to them forever… Well, I didn't exactly lie. They simply won't let me answer. Every time I try to speak, they assume the worst, so for now, silence is my best option.
(Sorry, Dad. I swear when I see you, I'll buy you a drink to make up for this... or two.)
[Considering this woman's personality, you probably just saved both your skin and Paul's. If you told her he sent you on a dangerous mission or that you got lost due to negligence, she'd send assassins. The idea that he "threw you out" makes her feel like you are now her property to "rescue." It's basic manipulation. Keeping quiet about the incident is best for now.]
(That doesn't make me feel any better.)
"Very well. If that man doesn't want you, the House of Latreia will claim you. Zenith is my daughter, and you are her son. Your healing is impressive, but you will begin training to advance it further."
Did she see me as an opportunity to see her daughter again? Was she hoping that if she took care of me, Zenith would return?
I felt that, beneath all that rigidity, there was a mother who loved her children but didn't know how to show it—and who made plenty of mistakes along the way.
"I am glad to know I've been accepted by you, Grandmother..." It was still hard to say, and I meant it. I hadn't forgiven her for driving my mother away, but I knew holding onto a grudge would achieve nothing.
"Do not confuse 'acceptance' with 'benevolence', boy. I have not accepted you out of affection. I accepted you because letting my daughter's blood go to waste in the filth would be an insult to the House of Latreia."
There it was. She was back to her usual self. I knew it wouldn't be easy, so I wasn't surprised.
"You have talent, yes. But you also have those eyes, that hair… and that defensive, mercenary stance. In my eyes, you remain a savage with an impressive magic trick. You have a roof and food, but respect… that, you will have to earn. And believe me, my standards are high."
And then she left, letting only the sound of his cane striking the stone floor echo first through the garden and then inside the mansion.
"Phew... that was... intense," Therese murmured, wiping a hand across her forehead. "But you're in. That's what counts."
We arrived at a set of dark wooden double doors. Therese opened them to reveal a spacious, luxurious room decorated in blue and white, with a huge window overlooking the rear gardens. It was far more elegant than anywhere I had slept before, even Eris's mansion.
"This is your new room... The other one was just temporary. Dinner is in two hours, and Mother demands absolute punctuality. Oh, and Daiki..." She paused in the doorway. "Don't let her words get to you too much. She... she loved Zenith more than anything. Losing her broke her in a way she will never admit. Seeing you is like seeing a ghost to her."
"I understand, Aunt. Thank you."
She closed the door, leaving me alone.
I looked down at my hands. I had managed to infiltrate the main Latreia household; I had food, shelter, and safety. But the cost was selling out my father's reputation and submitting to a woman who saw me as a renovation project.
[Don't get sentimental now. Claire is a tool, just like this house. She wants to use you to get Zenith back or to feel better about herself. You use her to get information, improve your healing magic, and find your brother. It's a fair trade.]
(Yeah... you're right. But I feel filthy.)
I stood up and walked toward the full-length mirror in the corner. My reflection stared back: a boy with black hair and red eyes, dressed in borrowed clothes, trapped in a web of noble lies.
"Just for a little while," I told myself. "I'll endure the insults, I'll endure the training, and I'll endure her scorn. But the moment I find out where Rudeus and Eris are... I'm out of here."