On top of a hill overlooking the capital city of the Wethered Kingdom, there was a small gravestone.
“…It’s been a while since I’ve come here.”
Although nothing was inscribed on the gravestone, to him—Wahaš—it marked the resting place of his deceased daughter.
He knew that her remains had been respectfully buried by the Daum Barony.
He had heard that the Mage Association, along with the Royal Family and Court Mages, had attended the funeral due to the premature death of the former Court Mage.
Wahaš had not attended the funeral. He had been invited, but he had refused.
He did not possess any sentimental emotions such as being unable to accept his daughter’s death, or feeling ashamed to face others after having severed ties.
Death was simply a part of daily life, and with many of his kin meeting their end, he did not single out his daughter for special treatment.
However, a daughter is a daughter. Even if they had parted on bad terms, what is loved is loved. Wahaš had buried the knife his daughter Liz used when she was young on this hill and erected a gravestone.
He did so that his daughter, who had protected the country as a Court Mage, could look out over the city she had defended.
“Father, you were here.”
Turning at the voice, he saw his other beloved daughter, Rosa Roen, and Pfeil, who he considered as a son though he never said it aloud, kneeling before him.
“Rosa, Pfeil, what is it?”
“We heard you will be fighting Jared Murphy, so we came to ask your intentions, Father.”
He inwardly let out a wry smile, but did not show it on his face.
He knew that the two of them lived with Jared. They were likely worried about their grandson’s safety. Pfeil, in particular, he knew had built a friendship of sorts.
They were undoubtedly worried that he might kill Jared.
“Rosa, do you know whose gravestone this is?”
“No, I do not. But I understand now. It’s my older sister, Liz Murphy, isn’t it?”
“That’s right. I don’t know why she became a Court Mage. Perhaps she wanted to pursue a path completely opposite to mine, who makes a living by taking lives and destroying. Or perhaps it was because her mother was a magician; I have no way of knowing now.”
After a pause, he continued.
“Her mother, unlike me who takes, was a woman overflowing with a sense of justice. That’s why I was drawn to her.”
“And her?”
“She died a long time ago. She had no relatives, so I asked an acquaintance to handle her funeral and burial. It’s possible Liz settled in the capital because she wanted to be near her mother.”
Liz’s mother, who had been an adventurer, was saved by Waalthe when she was on the verge of death. Perhaps she could not tolerate the existence of an assassination organization in this world, for once she recovered her strength, she dared to challenge Wahaš to a fight. He accepted her challenge playfully and was astonished by her strength. He, who was getting on in years, became undeniably captivated and drawn to this young girl, a mere child, who was a clump of justice.
Although he won the match, he did not feel victorious. He visited her frequently and they built an emotional bond through their conversations during her stay at the organization, which was more tense than any battle he had ever fought.
It was thanks to her that he learned how to love someone. And then Liz was born.
Later, through a certain connection, he also met Rosa’s mother.
“Father, are you truly going to fight Jared?”
“Of course, I will fight. Jared himself desires a battle with me. More importantly, if he wishes for an outcome different from mine, then a clash is inevitable.”
“But—”
“Don’t be hasty, Rosa. I will fight, that’s all. I will not kill. It’s a good opportunity to see my grandson’s abilities.”
What Wahaš intended to do by giving Jared a day’s grace before striking was to defeat his grandson, in his prime, with overwhelming power, thereby crushing any resistance. He also wanted to personally ascertain the strength of his grandson, raised by Almeida.
Otherwise, he would have incapacitated everyone on the spot and offered Annett’s head to this gravestone by now.
Unknowingly, Jared had once saved Annett and the others.
“I have no reason to kill Jared, who is not my enemy. It is those who took Liz from me whom I wish to kill.”
As Wahaš uttered his quiet, yet murderous words, with Annett and the others in his mind, Rosa and Pfeil felt their hair stand on end and trembled.
Even for them, who had been raised as combatants and prided themselves on their skill, Wahaš’s position was far beyond their reach.
“As far as I know, Annett Paggio will not accept the outcome Jared desires. Is there anything we can do?”
“I appreciate that, Pfeil. Even if I were to be defeated by Jared, I do not believe that woman will submit to the judiciary. However, I have already made arrangements. Do not worry.”
“Then Father, what must we do?”
“You need not do anything. I do not wish for you to be involved in this matter.”
“B-but…”
“This is my personal vendetta. I do not wish to involve you in such things.”
Wahaš smiled a rare, gentle, and kind smile, leaving Rosa and Pfeil speechless.
“However, there is one wish.”
“Whatever you ask.”
“There are no guarantees in battle. No matter how strong I am, there is a possibility I could be defeated by Jared. In some cases, I might even meet my death.”
Neither Rosa nor Pfeil could utter “impossible.”
Pfeil, in particular, had been defeated by Jared. The current Jared was stronger than on that night they fought at the Alway Ducal Family Villa. He had defeated Luzer Fischer, who was under Dolf Ein’s control, without killing him, after releasing his sealed magic power.
No matter how strong Wahaš was, there was still a chance.
As Wahaš himself was saying it, the possibility was likely substantial.
“Should I die, you and Pfeil will inherit the organization. With Dolf dead, there is no need to maintain the assassination organization. Transform it so that it can walk openly in the light of day.”
“…Father.”
“Wahaš.”
“Rely on Niklas Daum—not Johan Daum. He will certainly not treat you unfairly. Whether it’s a mercenary group or a security organization, live freely.”
Having said that, Wahaš turned his back to them and gazed at the city, his gaze fixed on the gravestone.
Rosa opened her mouth to say something to her father’s back, but a strong wind swirled on the hill. It felt as if he were rejecting her, as if he were telling her not to say anything, and she fell silent.
“Leave me alone for a while.”
Accepting Wahaš’s wish, they bowed their heads quietly and vanished without a sound.
