Ch.175Chapter 175: This Isn’t Right… (2)

During the brief moment it took to sit down, all sorts of memories related to my father flooded my mind.

Like a panorama of life flashing before my eyes.

Memories unfolded clearly, from my lonely childhood to the times when I grew older and became twisted after repeated frustrations when everything I tried to do was blocked.

The image of my father smiling as he told my mother he would personally teach our son swordsmanship when he was old enough to wield a sword.

The image of my father comforting me when I lost my mother at a young age, busy suppressing what must have been an even greater sorrow for himself.

Citing the logic that the position of mistress in a prestigious family should not remain vacant.

The image of my father rejecting countless political marriage proposals by saying, “I already have two well-growing children,” insisting that he would engrave only one woman in his heart for his entire life.

When I first held a sword, watching the sword dance he performed as a demonstration.

His joy when he saw me following it flawlessly, saying I had talent.

Yet despite my talent with the sword, the image of my father gently comforting me when I cried as a child after being told I couldn’t embody the “light,” the vision of House Ranos.

The image of my father expressing his simple wish that even if I couldn’t become a great swordsman, he just wanted me to live happily no matter what I did.

The image of my father who never gave up on me until the very end, even as I was falling apart, blaming the world for my failures.

And the image of myself, completely broken, cruelly betraying my father’s hopes.

It was too many memories to have surfaced in the brief moment of taking a few steps and sitting down.

In all those memories, my father consistently treated his children with love.

Recalling how I, as his child, had thrown away such excessive love like an old worn-out shoe made me feel as if the blood flowing through my body was freezing.

‘Sigh, what a worthless son I was.’

By the time I sat down, I had thoroughly cursed the version of myself that existed in those memories.

Whether fortunate or unfortunate, I don’t know.

But I thought that at least the last few memories that surfaced in my mind could be overwritten in a different form.

Though they were events that had already passed.

They were now events from a timeline that only I remembered.

Because they hadn’t happened yet.

So I can only hope.

This is another chance I’ve gained by going against time.

Just as I changed my relationship with Shizu, which makes me happy just by looking at her.

I hope this situation, my first encounter with my father since my regression,

Will be the starting point for a different relationship than before.

That’s why I was prepared to prostrate myself and apologize if my father expressed any disappointment,

And to swear to live a life that wouldn’t bring shame to the family.

Well, this son is ready to humbly accept any criticism.

Say whatever you wish, Father.

But, whether he knew of my firm resolve or not.

“I heard from Director Belpheus. That you drew the Dragon Sword from its scabbard.”

In the first words my father spoke as he gazed steadily at me sitting there,

There was no resentment toward a son who had returned home after nearly seven years.

There was only congratulations for drawing a sword that no one in our thousand-year-old family had been able to draw.

Though there was also a hint of relief that I had come to this house of my own accord.

Seeing this, a weak thought tried to surface—that I should be satisfied with not being scolded and seeing my father pleased.

But, haah…

With one deep sigh released inwardly, I dispelled that weakness.

What satisfaction?

Does this only prove how pathetic I am that my father is relieved by something so trivial?

Worthless son.

I can’t help but curse myself.

#

Well, apart from naturally cursing my past self,

Since it’s a child’s duty to respond when their father speaks first,

“I don’t know how it was possible, but I was just lucky,”

I could only express humility with these words.

Whether my words sounded satisfactory or not,

I could see a look of approval settle on my father’s calm expression.

As a son, I’m rightfully happy to see a different expression than the sorrowful one he had when looking at me in the previous timeline.

Needless to say, this humility wasn’t expressed as a formality to please my father, but because I genuinely felt that way.

I truly believe it was just luck that allowed me to draw the sword.

It’s still amazing to think about it.

That I, whose lineage as a direct descendant of Ranos was questioned because of my hair color,

Could break the seal of the Dragon Sword, one of the oldest relics related to Ranos—how could it not be amazing?

And so many things happened because of it.

Meeting Fafnir, who dwelled in the sword in spirit form,

Awakening my super-regeneration ability, which paved the way for my rapid journey to becoming superhuman.

Thanks to that, I caught my sister’s eye and was able to participate in the Subjugation Festival.

I never neglected my self-training even within Knight Haven, where I walked with confident steps.

And while facing off against the Mains who tried to attack the fortress during breaks in the snowfall,

Even though I was at a disadvantage, keenly feeling my weakness,

Thanks to the Dragon Armor I received through the connection I made by drawing the sword, I was able to make my own contributions.

Because of all this, I ended up living a completely different life than I did at 18 before my regression.

Ha, come to think of it, I really was lucky.

Beyond regression, many things changed because I obtained a hidden family treasure that I didn’t even know existed in the previous timeline.

The acquisition of the Dragon Sword, which allowed me—who had only changed my mindset—to take several steps forward, was simply a stroke of good luck.

No matter what anyone says, that’s what I believe.

Well, my father’s reaction was satisfactory.

Now that the greetings are over,

He’ll get straight to the point, right?

“I’ve been so distant that I can barely remember your face.”

“But seeing your improved expression makes me feel relieved as a father.”

“Your mother, watching over us from above, must be pleased as well.”

I expected something like these affectionate expressions bordering on nagging.

But.

“You are the first. The first person since our founder to draw that ‘Dragon Sword’ from its scabbard.”

That wasn’t it.

“Lucky, you say. Son, when I heard that news, I sensed a kind of destiny.”

I could immediately tell from my father’s continued words that the main point he had in mind was different from what I had expected.

This was the beginning of a moment when my mind started racing, confirming that things were unfolding differently than I had anticipated.

#

What would he say next?

After discovering that the contents of the letter about the family succession were a lie meant to summon me,

After returning to the main house,

And sitting in the seat my father had called me to,

I had steeled myself to hear the natural scolding or reprimands of a father worried about his child.

But when the Dragon Sword was brought up first, my mind became confused.

…Actually, thinking about it, such words might naturally come first.

My sister and father, who are here now,

Both spent their school days in the cradle,

And when they awakened their special abilities, they would have been called by the Director to test if they could draw the Dragon Sword.

I still remember it.

As soon as my hand touched it, the lock on the scabbard broke open with a loud noise,

And at that moment, the Director’s surprise at seeing the pure white blade of the Dragon Sword naturally revealed,

And after the sword was resheathed and handed back to me,

How he couldn’t draw the sword despite using all his might.

Even the thousand-year-old great hero who performed countless miracles with his bare hands couldn’t draw it,

So it’s natural to be curious when someone finally draws it after a thousand years.

…I’ll show it to you anytime if you ask later.

For now, couldn’t you be satisfied with giving your son the proper scolding he deserves, Father?

With this earnest thought, I gazed steadily at my father, but,

“Before getting to the main point,”

My father showed with this one sentence that he had no intention of meeting my expectations.

Ding-ding

He lightly shook the bell on his desk used to summon servants.

“I need to confirm with my own eyes whether it’s real or not.”

He clearly revealed why he rang the bell.

Ah, nothing ever goes smoothly.

As I inwardly sighed lightly,

The entrance door to the family head’s room opened smoothly.

“You called, sir.”

To the butler who entered with steps that embodied discipline and elegance worthy of being called a model servant,

“Hans, bring me the sword that Kal entrusted when he came in.”

My father ordered him to bring the Dragon Sword.

No sooner had the words fallen than the butler, who had bowed to my father, briefly left the room.

“Here it is, sir.”

The time it took for the butler to return, holding the Dragon Sword with both hands, was instantaneous.

“Thank you, you may go.”

“Then…”

After the butler Hans respectfully handed the sword to my father with both hands and left the room again,

My father’s right hand was gripping the sword’s handle, his gaze fixed on the Dragon Sword.

And his left hand…

“Hnngh!!”

He began struggling to draw the sword, holding the scabbard.

…A few months ago, Belpheus the Director had demonstrated to me that not just anyone could draw the Dragon Sword, and my father’s attempt looked exactly the same.

I had to struggle to keep my expression from crumbling.

I wasn’t the only one feeling this way.

My sister, who had momentarily widened her eyes before relaxing them, seemed equally taken aback by the current scene.

Whether aware of our gazes or not,

As my father tried in earnest to draw the sword,

He was using the Prikasa breathing technique, with white battle aura rising like a mirage around his entire body, including his arms holding the sword.

[Oh… What remarkably pure gathered battle aura.]

Fafnir’s voice, tinged with admiration, broke the long silence.

I was quite impressed seeing the quantity and quality of battle aura rising around my father as he activated Prikasa.

[Still, he can’t draw it. Being a Ranos alone isn’t enough to draw that sword.]

Just as Fafnir predicted in his self-mutter that my father’s attempt would fail,

As time passed, the mirage of battle aura emanating from my father’s body was instantly dispelled, and from his mouth came,

“Phew…”

A faint sigh as he released the strength in his left hand holding the scabbard.

“Even though I’ve gained some strength over the years, what can’t be done can’t be done.”

With a voice clearly showing slight fatigue, he placed the Dragon Sword on the desk.

“You try it.”

With these words, my father pushed the Dragon Sword toward me.

Since refusing in this atmosphere would also be problematic,

“…Very well.”

I showed a light courtesy to my father and sister, then carefully took the Dragon Sword from the desk with both hands.

I tried to carefully draw the sword from its scabbard, but,

Click-!!

Before I could even touch the scabbard, the sound of an invisible, intricate locking mechanism being released was heard.

Shhhing

The Dragon Sword, emerging from its crimson leather scabbard with an elegant sound, revealed its uniquely white and clean blade on its own.

[There’s no one else in this world who can do this except you now.]

Fafnir’s assertive voice was making my head spin.

“…”

My sister, who had seen me draw the Dragon Sword several times during the Subjugation Festival, watched this without much reaction.

“Indeed…”

A short exclamation came from my father, who was seeing this for the first time.

“When I was your age, Director Belpheus gave me this sword, and I tried to draw it for three days and nights without rest.”

My father, with a voice tinged with amusement, began telling his old story.

“At your age, I too had a very strong competitive spirit.

Among the great giants who elevated the name of this family, which has continued for nearly a thousand years,

I wanted to draw this sword—which no one except our ancestor had ever drawn—and bring it back to make it ours again.”

The expression of my father as he told this old story, one he had never shared with his children before, was how should I put it?

It was filled with melancholy, something I had rarely seen in all my memories before regression.