The Young Shark 4

The two embraced silently for a long while.

Doyun kept repeating Luna’s single word.

‘Father…’

He realized it the moment he heard it.

Yes. That was it.

The indescribable, irresistible feeling he had harbored towards Luna all along – it was paternal love.

Doyun finally understood.

Her golden mana-colored irises. Her unnaturally keen senses. Her aloof demeanor.

The clues he had overlooked gradually fell into place.

‘Luna…’

My daughter. Luna Thanatos.

Quietly, Doyun felt the warmth of the child embraced in his arms – warmer than anything in this world.

Luna too closed her eyes, nestled in his embrace.

+++

Seated in the reception room, Doyun recounted his conversation with Luna the previous night.

[Why did you kill her?]

[That woman tried to kill you, Father.]

[…I see. Well done.]

A fact Doyun was already aware of, so he did not press Luna further.

But that was not the crux of the matter.

[How did you kill her?]

[I slit her throat.]

[…]

Doyun fell silent at Luna’s casual admission.

Indeed, Luna had surpassed even Elizabeth in strength.

Previously a terrifying realization, but no longer – Luna was his daughter, an absolute ally.

[What did you do with the body?]

[No one will find it.]

Assassinations may involve covering up murders depending on the circumstances.

And Luna, the daughter of the Dark Lord’s finest assassin and the Alliance’s greatest assassin apprentice, had undoubtedly handled the disposal flawlessly.

Elizabeth would ultimately be declared missing.

Given her personality, few would actively search for her immediate disappearance. Only those infrequently contacting her might grow suspicious eventually.

Hence minimal clean-up remained necessary – the very reason for Doyun and Duke Noir’s meeting today.

Waiting in the reception room, Doyun pondered:

‘I was but an ordinary human once.’

He had grown stronger through the rebirths, yet that innate talent never manifested.

Though the world remained unaware, having received an earthly education, Doyun knew acquired traits did not inherit genetically.

Enoch had grown strong through external means. But Luna directly inherited Enoch’s talents from birth.

How could this be possible?

‘Because of the rebirths?’

Come to think of it, if the 17th iteration Enoch rebirthed into the past, could that Enoch’s accumulated strength be considered an acquired trait?

The post-rebirth Enoch possessing humanity’s greatest mana reserves and lifetimes’ worth of inherited techniques – was he the 1st or 18th iteration in that timeline?

From that timeline’s perspective, could his prowess be considered innate rather than acquired? To the other denizens there, it would represent Enoch’s ‘original’ natural abilities.

‘Apparently… the rebirth’s byproducts were treated as innate talents.’

So Luna inherited his talents – a newly revealed fact.

‘Then if my past self fathered a child, would that offspring have likewise inherited my talents?’

Oh. Doyun suddenly regretted deeply his failure to leave descendants.

Had he simply sired a child after surviving the Dark Lord war, the world would not have fallen into such disarray.

‘Well… it matters not now.’

A mere hypothetical, idle speculation.

Unable to foresee the future, Doyun could only dismiss such thoughts.

His true paramount uncertainty lay elsewhere.

‘Did I… ever leave a second lineage?’

Enoch had been obsessively cautious regarding contraception, as one expecting death at any moment.

The answer to his self-posed question was ‘no’ – no chance existed of a second lineage, especially with the Vanguard.

‘Then just how…’

Truly an inexplicable mystery.

Moreover, Luna’s surname ‘Thanatos’ differed from Enoch’s ‘Razvolnic’.

While uncommon, children occasionally inherited their maternal surnames in cases where the mother’s lineage held greater prestige – such as a princess marrying a lower-ranked noble.

‘Was my bloodline really that weak?’

Never having fathered children himself, Doyun could not say for certain, but Luna’s case suggested as much.

‘Hmm…’

And yet he had been the continent’s strongest at one point.

Not an impossibility per se… but certainly unexpected from Doyun’s perspective.

‘In any case, Luna’s origins are…’

His endless musings ceased upon Duke Noir’s arrival.

As always, Duke Noir offered a deep bow to the seated Doyun.

“Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you.”

With a gentle smile, Duke Noir took his seat as Doyun poured him the prepared tea.

“Ah… This tea aroma never fails to delight, truly.”

“A special blend from our former guild’s chef a century ago. It has since become Sir Ellora’s signature recipe.”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard of him. The former Muspelheim palace chef whom our guild members fondly called ‘Uncle’.”

Come to think of it, there were a few rebirths where Enoch had clashed with the Muspelheim princess over ‘Uncle’.

Though her apparent intent involved gaining Enoch’s affections rather than Uncle himself.

‘Muspelheim, huh…’

Doyun considered the current Muspelheim King – the Lion King.

‘Inheriting the Muspelheim royalty’s and a Boss Monster Killer’s bloodlines, further fused with a Spirit essence in the womb.’

And the Pride Knights were said to resemble his personality greatly.

The now-defunct Rockfellers and Strike Teams 3 & 4 had comprised those ranks.

Doyun felt a pang of bitterness recalling them as he sipped his tea.

‘I’d like to meet him someday.’

The Muspelheim royalty Doyun knew embodied sheer valor itself, the three princes and princess constantly at the vanguard.

Moreover, this generation’s king held the ‘Lion King’ epithet, evoking immense anticipation.

“However, the reason you summoned me…”

As Duke Noir prompted him, Doyun quietly sipped his tea.

Setting down the cup, he spoke softly:

“Do not search for Elizabeth.”

“Pardon?”

Meeting Duke Noir’s gaze directly caused the latter to shudder.

‘Ah…’

So it had come to this after all.

He had hoped for an amicable resolution between Sir Enoch and Elizabeth, but Sir Enoch never spared such risky elements.

Silently, Duke Noir nodded in acquiescence.

“…I understand.”

A regrettable outcome, yet Duke Noir harbored absolute trust in Enoch’s judgment – hence his lack of protest.

Doyun sipped his tea once more. With Duke Noir apprised, no further complications should arise.

+++

To receive the completed Dragon Progenitor scale equipment, Doyun headed for the smithy.

Glancing at the address Winny had provided, he furrowed his brow slightly.

‘A smithy I’ve never heard of before…’

If they truly inherited dwarven craftsmanship, should they not rank among the Alliance’s finest?

Yet the address listed a nondescript smithy located in some random city backstreet alley.

Moreover, despite being a relatively major city near the capital, this smithy district felt utterly desolate.

Doyun inspected it closely.

‘Hmm…’

All the smithy buildings stood vacant.

Apparently the smiths had all relocated, likely part of some mass relocation policy.

‘Rockenmeyer is bolstering its national defenses.’

This was Rockenmeyer – the nation Doyun had previously defended as an anonymous World Tree Apostle against Satan’s invading forces.

Afterwards, realizing defense’s importance, Rockenmeyer’s king and frontier dukes had fervently intensified their military buildup.

Perhaps the smiths were being relocated to the frontlines for this very reason.

‘…Wait. Does that mean he’s no longer here?’

The smith Doyun sought may have relocated too.

Well, locating him should not prove too difficult. Both this nation’s king and the frontier duke overseeing the presumed relocation site held immense goodwill towards Doyun.

Doyun had repelled Satan’s forces and the imps, fostering cordial World Tree-Rockenmeyer relations.

Shortly after, Doyun’s identity as a Boss Monster Killer came to light alongside his Vanguard subjugation and Paladin-tier prowess, skyrocketing his renown.

Since then, Rockenmeyer had become utterly fervent, incessantly sending overtures of friendship towards Doyun and the World Tree.

A simple request from him would promptly locate any desired smith.

‘Still, I should check here first.’

Doyun proceeded towards his destination.

Yet his senses picked up a disturbance nearby.

‘…A scuffle?’

Straining his hearing, Doyun headed towards the noise’s source.

+++

Four soldiers barged into a smithy, knocking over displayed wares haphazardly.

Crash! Thud!

Witnessing this, an outraged young girl shouted:

“Stop it, you bastards-!”

“Soyun! Don’t!”

The elderly man beside her restrained his granddaughter.

Observing them, the soldiers reacted differently – some snickered, others glared irritably.

One soldier leered at the girl condescendingly.

“And just who needs to keep their mouth shut, huh? Just sign the damn form and everything’s resolved nice and easy~”

The ‘form’ they referenced was for consenting to the smiths’ relocation.

Infuriated, the girl vented her anger.

“You’ll just exploit us at the frontlines under the pretext of conscription! My grandfather is too frail to endure it! His health has deteriorated so badly, we’ve cut our order volume drastically!”

“War is intensifying again in earnest. Rockenmeyer is a frontline nation. To live as citizens here while being so selfish…”

“You dare lecture us after embezzling all the relocation subsidies for yourselves?!”

But the soldiers merely sneered dismissively.

“And the royal decree clearly stated smiths could choose of their own volition! You have no authority to force us!”

“…And who told you that pretty lie? Your grandfather?”

“Ah, that senile old fart must’ve overheard some troublesome nonsense…”

While prioritizing smiths’ consent, the relocation compensated frontier dukes based on numbers – since smiths represented vital territorial resources conscripted for national service.

This duke aimed to maximize that compensation.

Forcibly relocating smiths would net the full subsidy while allowing lackeys like these soldiers to embezzle the smiths’ relocation allowances for themselves.

Most commoners remained illiterate, easily cowed by feigning ‘royal decrees’, but this stubborn old man had somehow caught wind of the truth.

“Just shut up and sign already! We’ve been hounding you ingrates for days now!”

“Y-, You corrupt bastards!”

Infuriated by the ‘corrupt bastards’ insult, the soldiers’ faces twisted collectively.

“You insolent wench!”

Finally, one soldier raised his hand towards the girl.

“Kyah!”

“No, stop!”

But the very instant his palm swung down:

Stomp.

A mana-imbued footstep resounded from the entrance.

“Huh?”

Unable to sense mana themselves, the curiously heavy footfall drew their gazes towards the unfamiliar presence.

There stood Doyun.

“Hmm…”

Having overheard the situation from afar, Doyun had completed his assessment en route.

Briefly surveying the scene, he approached the elderly man.

Seizing the chance, the old man swiftly hid the girl behind himself before addressing Doyun.

“Wh-, Who might you be…?”

“I came to retrieve an ordered item.”

Those words prompted baffled looks from the two.

‘An order?’

They had received no new commissions this relocation season…

After a contemplative pause, the old man recalled one outstanding fact.

The largest order he had ever accepted, dating back several months.

“Ah, could it be…!”

However, the soldiers paid it no heed.

One clapped a hand on the old man’s shoulder.

Slap.

“Hey now. Just who’re you supposed to be?”

As Doyun turned towards him, the soldiers flinched at the ominous glint in his eyes.

“I came to retrieve an ordered item.”

Doyun repeated himself impassively.

“An, an order?”

Taken aback by his casual informality, the soldiers exchanged hurried glances.

‘What, what’s this… An Apostle?’

‘Apostles ain’t got no business at some backwater smithy – prolly just a merc grunt!’

‘Y-, Yeah, that’s gotta be it!’

Hrmm, hrmmm! Clearing his throat loudly, one soldier spoke up:

“Hey man, can’t you read the situation? We’re on official business here!”

“Interfering with official duties means the underground prison for you!”

In this tyrannical duke’s domain, soldiers wielded immense authority – most commoners inevitably cowered before such bravado.

Yet Doyun remained unmoved.

“This bastard…”

But ultimately, further flexing their authority would only compel retreat.

Producing a document, they declared:

“See this? Royal orders straight from His Majesty! We’re simply enforcing the king’s decree!”

Doyun glanced at it disinterestedly before muttering:

“Royal orders, huh.”

The World Tree Master’s chamber housed a dedicated hotline to the Rockenmeyer royalty.

‘…Should I contact Ellora about this?’

Doyun pondered the least troublesome recourse.