DING!
[Daily Mission: Train with the Host's Sons and Daughters for Two Hours]
[Status: Completed]
[Mission Reward: Mangekyou Sharingan Power Core]
"That thing again?" I murmured, releasing a quiet sigh.
This was the second time I had received the same reward.
The first had been five years ago.
Although its functionality appeared deceptively simple, the value contained within it was anything but ordinary.
The artifact, shaped like a condensed core of energy, possessed the ability to forcibly evolve a Sharingan into a Mangekyou Sharingan, triggering a surge of mutation based upon the genetic blueprint of the Uchiha Clan flowing within one's blood.
At the very least, the existence of this item meant I would not have to worry about my sons and daughters enduring some dark emotional tragedy merely to awaken those cursed eyes.
A bloody fate that had destroyed the overwhelming majority of the clan in its world of origin.
Even so...
As with all things in existence, a shortcut of this magnitude carried consequences of its own.
I had already mapped the likely inheritance paths of the Uchiha bloodline within each of my children.
Charlotte had inherited a lineage of power most closely resembling Madara's.
Ian leaned heavily toward Itachi.
Ryan would likely inherit traits similar to either Izuna or Sasuke.
Meanwhile, my youngest daughter, Karina, was astonishingly similar to Shisui.
The greatest problem lay in one simple fact.
I knew the full spectrum of abilities possessed by those legendary Mangekyou Sharingan users.
Which meant I also knew every one of their fatal weaknesses.
In some cases, those powers were terrifyingly powerful.
In others...
The outcome was not necessarily ideal.
Madara was a perfect example.
His Mangekyou Sharingan was undeniably formidable, yet its greatest strength stemmed from overwhelming combat enhancement and physical dominance rather than unique ocular techniques.
On paper, that sounded extraordinary.
Yet I was not entirely convinced that path suited Charlotte.
Especially when Charlotte's personality already possessed a troubling resemblance to Madara's.
Both of them were battle-crazed in their own way.
Both preferred solving problems through direct confrontation.
If left unchecked, a combination of such temperament and power could easily develop into an inefficient fighting style that endangered the user more than their enemies.
Then there was an even darker threat looming over everything.
Blindness.
That was the unavoidable price paid by every Mangekyou Sharingan user.
Until those eyes evolved into the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan, the risk of losing one's sight would forever linger in the shadows.
Merely thinking about that cursed chain of consequences was enough to make my head ache.
I slowly rubbed my temple, attempting to chase away the headache creeping into my thoughts.
Only then did I realize that the sun had already climbed high into the sky.
It was nearly nine in the morning.
Without noticing, the intensity of training had caused time to slip away like water through open fingers.
I lifted my head and gazed toward the distant horizon.
Golden sunlight bathed the earth in a warm and gentle radiance.
The sky stretched endlessly overhead, a flawless sea of blue adorned by drifting white clouds that seemed like brushstrokes painted across a colossal canvas by the hand of a master artist.
It was such a peaceful and beautiful sight.
Somewhere along the way, I had grown fond of scenery like this.
Back in my previous life on Earth, opportunities to enjoy true tranquility had been a luxury beyond reach.
There had only been overcrowded cities.
Chaotic urban planning.
Endless traffic that suffocated both body and mind.
And polluted air that left every breath feeling heavy.
Rather than bringing peace, the quiet moments there often felt artificial.
This world was different.
Completely different.
Time had flowed so swiftly that I no longer knew exactly when I had fallen deeply in love with this world.
My memories of Earth had gradually begun to blur.
Not because I had forgotten them.
Nor because I had lost them.
But because the happiness I possessed now felt far more real than the distant shadows of a former life.
Irene.
Charlotte.
Ian.
Ryan.
Karina.
They had become the pieces that slowly filled the emptiness within me, a void that nothing else had ever managed to satisfy.
A faint smile touched my lips.
As death approached in my previous life, I had woven countless dreams.
At one point, I had dreamed of becoming a billionaire.
A rather predictable fantasy for a child raised in an orphanage.
Yet only when death stood before me did I finally realize something important.
My true dream had never been grand.
I never wished to conquer the world with wealth.
Nor did I long to carve my name into the pages of history.
What I truly wanted was remarkably simple.
To marry a good woman.
To build a warm and loving family.
And to raise my children with my own two hands.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
Yet now I understood that the simplest dreams were often the most difficult to attain.
And perhaps the most precious of all.
I had obtained every one of those priceless luxuries here.
I lived beside the woman I loved.
I watched our children grow with each passing day.
And I cherished every laugh, every argument, and every small moment that wove together the tapestry of our family.
No mountain of gold could ever be exchanged for this warmth.
I enjoyed my life not merely for my own sake, but for those who had given meaning to my existence.
Because of that, I no longer viewed my past through the same eyes.
My thoughts gradually returned to the matter of the Eternal Mangekyou Sharingan.
A subject that never failed to stir unease deep within my chest.
No matter how peaceful the sky above appeared, that lingering concern remained, quietly waiting at the edge of my thoughts.
No matter what happened, I had to keep the darker truth behind these eyes hidden from them for now.
There were already far too many secrets buried within my heart.
I had broken promises to Irene more than once in order to conceal them.
I was not a good husband.
And somewhere deep within another corner of my heart, fear lingered.
A quiet fear.
The fear that one day this small family of mine might be swallowed by a bloody tragedy resembling the fate that had befallen the Uchiha Clan.
I was not an all-knowing god.
I could not see the future.
Nor could I completely understand the hearts of my children.
Today, they might still rest beneath the shelter of my arms.
Tomorrow, they might still stand beside me.
But one day...
They would spread their own wings.
They would build families of their own.
They would continue the bloodline that Irene and I had begun together.
We were merely the starting point.
Our children would inherit what we built.
Then the torch would pass to our grandchildren, who might one day listen to stories about their grandparents and ancestors long gone.
The cycle would continue.
Expanding.
Branching outward.
Driving its roots ever deeper as the years flowed by.
Perhaps centuries from now.
Perhaps thousands of years from now.
The small family Irene and I founded might grow into an unimaginable faction whose influence stretched across the world.
Or perhaps it would vanish entirely, swallowed by the amnesia of time.
No one knew the answer.
Yet as long as I still drew breath, my priority remained unchanged.
To protect this family.
To shield them from the cursed destiny of the clan with crimson eyes.
And to ensure that the legacy I left behind would not become a chain of suffering, but a dynasty capable of standing proudly against the march of time until the final pages of Vanaheimr's history were written.
I turned my head slightly.
Karina released a heavy sigh.
She looked exhausted after enduring an entire morning of physical training with me.
Her breathing was slightly uneven, though she was making every effort to conceal it behind her usual calm and unreadable expression.
She was different from Ryan.
The simple advantage of being male appeared to grant Ryan slightly greater physical endurance when it came to resisting fatigue.
Even so, one thing was certain.
Both of them had inherited enormous chakra reserves from me.
Far greater than what children their age should normally possess.
Yet when compared to Charlotte...
Those reserves suddenly seemed insignificant.
My eldest daughter was a genuine anomaly.
The chakra capacity contained within her body was so immense that even the combined reserves of her three siblings had yet to match hers.
'Mangekyou Sharingan...'
My thoughts drifted back toward the same troublesome subject.
If those eyes awakened through the conventional path, my children would be forced to pass through the gate of profound emotional trauma.
That had always been the absolute sacrifice attached to the evolution of the Sharingan since the era of their ancestor, Indra Ōtsutsuki.
Even so, the natural path possessed a unique advantage.
They would have the opportunity to awaken original abilities born purely from the manifestation of their souls, personalities, and life experiences.
Techniques that would belong entirely to them.
Abilities that could become their own personal signatures.
That was vastly different from the shortcut provided by the Power Core.
With that method, the resulting abilities and evolutionary pattern were largely predetermined by the Uchiha lineage they had inherited.
I needed to observe them further.
Especially Charlotte and Ian.
As they continued approaching adulthood, they possessed the highest likelihood of crossing that threshold.
For Charlotte, my options were gradually narrowing to two paths.
Allow her eyes to bloom naturally.
Or...
I extended my consciousness into the System Storage.
Karina, who stood nearby, did not react in the slightest.
She had long since grown accustomed to seeing me reach into empty air and pull objects from nowhere.
The childish curiosity she once possessed regarding how and what kind of spatial technique I was using had faded years ago.
In its place remained only quiet acceptance.
A moment later, a spherical object roughly the size of an adult's fist materialized within my palm.
Its surface glowed with a faint crimson radiance.
A mysterious aura pulsed softly from within it.
Inside the sphere, compressed chakra fluctuations were packed so densely that even the surrounding air appeared subtly distorted.
The Mangekyou Sharingan Power Core.
I stared at it silently.
Thoughtfully.
Contemplatively.
If fate ever cornered me into making a decision...
I might choose this shortcut.
A far safer road.
One that did not require my children to purchase power with tears stained by blood.
"Father!"
Karina's gentle voice instantly shattered my thoughts.
I blinked.
Then, with a practiced motion, I returned the crimson sphere to the System's dimensional storage.
Enough.
There was no point in wandering too far into possibilities that had yet to come.
The future remained unwritten.
And for now, my children were still here beside me.
That alone was enough.
All I wanted was to watch where the wheels of fate would carry this family across the vast expanse of the world.
"Yes, my dear?"
Karina looked at me with her usual expressionless face.
Her arms were folded neatly across her chest, a posture that somehow made her appear several years older than she truly was.
"I've called for Father several times."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Were you thinking about Charlotte and Ian? Or that red sphere from earlier?"
I gave a small nod, though that answer hardly encompassed the tangled thoughts swirling inside my mind.
Karina's expression remained as flat as a wooden board when her older siblings were mentioned, as though their existence simply wasn't an interesting enough topic to stir any visible emotion.
Seeing that attitude, I could only chuckle softly.
Bending down, I lifted her small body into my arms.
Karina did not struggle.
No complaints.
No protests.
She simply allowed herself to be carried with complete resignation.
The difference between her and Charlotte at the same age was like the difference between heaven and earth.
Back then, Charlotte would loudly protest every single time I tried to carry her, despite the fact that I knew it was merely a disguise for her spoiled nature.
Karina was different.
Stoic.
Calm.
And somehow, that was precisely where her unique charm lay.
I swept my gaze across the training grounds.
Ryan was nowhere to be seen.
At some point, the boy had completely vanished from sight.
"When did your brother disappear?" I asked.
Karina rested her head comfortably against my shoulder without the slightest intention of moving.
"Ryan?"
"Yes."
"He escaped a while ago, Father."
"Escaped?"
Karina nodded.
"He wanted food."
I laughed.
"Food?"
"Yes."
Her tone was unusually convincing.
"Father's physical training today was excessive. So he went home early."
I shook my head with a smile.
That was Ryan to the core.
"I see. My apologies. Father may have gone a little overboard today."
Karina stared at me for several seconds.
Then she raised a small hand and gently pinched my cheek.
A faint smile appeared upon her face.
Small.
Sweet.
And devastatingly effective against a father's defenses.
"It's fine, Father," she replied firmly.
"As long as it doesn't happen like the day before yesterday."
An ominous feeling immediately rang through my mind.
"The day before yesterday?"
Karina nodded innocently.
"When Father and Mother left us hungry all day because the two of you were too busy 'locking yourselves' inside your room. Have you forgotten? I even had to knock on Mother's door several times to make you come out."
"Cough! Ahem!"
I nearly choked on my own saliva.
Heat surged from my neck all the way to my face in an instant.
"F-forget that part, Karina. Please erase it from your memory, my dear."
Karina maintained the same innocent expression, as though the statement she had just delivered was no different from an ordinary weather report.
Realizing I had suffered a crushing defeat, I immediately changed the subject in a desperate attempt to salvage what remained of my dignity.
"Come on. Let's go home. Father suddenly feels hungry too."
"Alright."
Karina nodded in agreement.
I released a long sigh inwardly.
What an embarrassingly effective reality check.
Receiving a remark that sharp from my own daughter had rendered me completely speechless.
Karina truly was special.
She never filtered her thoughts.
She spoke without restraint.
Without fear.
And sometimes...
Without mercy.
I had already listened to countless complaints from her older siblings regarding the personality of the youngest child, particularly from Ryan.
Ever since his rather humiliating defeat during their sparring match a few days ago, the boy had developed what could only be described as acute paranoia whenever Karina happened to pass nearby.
He reacted as though his little sister were the final boss of a dungeon waiting to destroy him.
If I were in Ryan's position, I suspected I might have been equally traumatized.
The thought brought a smile to my lips.
Yet beneath the humor, Irene and I had begun noticing the first signs of something neither of us had anticipated.
Internal competition.
Hidden rivalries.
Small struggles for dominance beginning to take root among the siblings.
And perhaps most surprisingly of all, the center of that growing storm was Karina herself.
The very same little girl who was currently resting peacefully in my arms.
Fortunately, Charlotte and Ian were no longer at home.
Both of them had departed for the Imperial Capital to attend the Imperial Academy.
Otherwise...
This mansion might have descended into complete chaos in the near future.
The future truly was a mysterious sheet of parchment.
At times fascinating.
At times troublesome.
And more often than not, a source of headaches.
Yet that very unpredictability was what people called life.
If everything unfolded in a perfectly linear fashion according to our absolute will, then it would no longer be reality.
It would merely be a carefully crafted illusion.
And a terribly boring one at that.
***
The distance separating the Southern Duchy from the Imperial Capital generally required nearly a month of travel when using conventional means of transportation such as horse-drawn carriages.
For that reason, activating teleportation magic was no longer a secondary option but an absolute necessity for Aunt Adela in her capacity as the successor of a great merchant family.
For a merchant, time possessed a value equivalent to gold itself.
It was a principle she firmly embraced while accompanying us on our journey toward the heart of the Empire.
The teleportation array we intended to use was strategically situated within the very center of the Southern Duchy's capital.
This magical infrastructure was not administered directly by the Imperial bureaucracy. Instead, it belonged exclusively to the Magic Tower, operating legally under treaties and territorial agreements recognized throughout the continent.
From a broader perspective, the Magic Tower possessed numerous advantages that could never be underestimated.
Its influence extended across geopolitics, military detachments of battle mages, and vast repositories of secret and forbidden knowledge accumulated over centuries.
Yet when discussing pure liquidity and financial might, the organization still lagged far behind the Imperial Treasury, the great merchant consortiums, and the noble houses that controlled the continent's principal trade routes.
Many speculators throughout the world jokingly referred to the Magic Tower as a financial black hole.
An ancient giant that endlessly devoured mountains of gold without ever reaching satisfaction.
Even so, no one could deny that its existence served as one of the pillars stabilizing the entire continent.
Its cooperation with the various sovereign powers of Vanaheimr had maintained monetary stability for decades.
In the end, the commercialization of teleportation gates evolved into the Magic Tower's most reliable and profitable source of income.
The imperial authorities and neighboring kingdoms likewise benefited immensely from the arrangement.
Not only did they collect taxes from the Tower's operations within their territories, but nobles and wealthy merchants also enjoyed the advantages of rapid transportation.
No longer did they need to calculate losses caused by delayed logistics.
No longer did diplomats have to endure exhausting journeys across countless borders merely to attend political negotiations.
Travel itself had become remarkably flexible.
Especially during times of crisis, whether born from geopolitical conflict or natural catastrophe.
Naturally, not all teleportation gates were created equally.
The gates reserved for royal families and the highest echelon of nobility differed greatly from those intended for merchants and ordinary travelers.
Personally, I had never paid much attention to the finer details.
However, Father once explained that beyond differences in luxury and comfort, the true distinction lay in their layered security protocols.
To me, such precautions seemed entirely reasonable.
A political earthquake would shake the continent if a member of the Imperial Family were killed or accidentally transported to the wrong destination due to a malfunctioning magical circuit.
Such a disaster would never be dismissed as a simple accident.
It would be viewed as undeniable proof of the Magic Tower's incompetence.
A stain severe enough to shatter its international credibility.
As for the distance between Count Flammenberg's territory and the Southern Duchy's capital, it was relatively short.
The journey did not even require a full day of travel.
Being the most prosperous region under Duke Glutstein's protection, Count Flammenberg devoted extraordinary attention to securing every transportation route leading toward the Duke's exclusive domain.
According to current estimates, we would arrive at the Ducal Capital before nightfall.
I myself had passed through these interregional teleportation gates numerous times.
Lately, however, Father had grown increasingly reluctant to rely upon them.
He had once explained his reasoning.
The primary purpose behind using teleportation gates during his early travels had simply been to map the spatial coordinates of each new location he visited.
Once those coordinates became anchored within his memory, he could distort space itself and instantly travel there through a unique Mangekyou Sharingan technique.
Every time I analyzed the mechanics of those eyes, admiration inevitably rose within me.
It was an absolute power that shattered conventional logic.
An ability capable of interfering with the very fabric of space itself.
When activated, Father's body could become intangible.
Solid objects passed through him harmlessly.
Energy-based attacks failed to touch him.
Physical damage simply ceased to matter.
Kamui.
That was the name of the space-time technique born from his Mangekyou Sharingan.
A supreme form of manipulation that rendered the boundary between existence and nonexistence as thin as a single sheet of parchment.
Someday, the Sharingan dwelling within my own eyes would undoubtedly evolve and reach the same level as Father's.
When that moment would arrive, I had no answer.
Yet whenever thoughts of such power crossed my mind, a new ambition unfailingly bloomed within my chest.
To protect my elder sister, I needed to become many times stronger than I was now.
Far stronger.
Strong enough to stand beside her no matter what trials awaited us.
It was not merely a desire.
It was not a choice.
It was a necessity.
A duty I had already engraved upon my heart.