Clump’s Proposal
Clump’s proposal, in essence, was a demand to hand over his child—yet it wasn’t a bad offer.
There was no need to ask which was better: the son of a hunter or the son of the Ozent family.
Still, the reason Vincent couldn’t bring himself to answer imdiately was none other than the matter of blood.
Vincent glanced at Shirone.
To his slight irritation, his son’s expression remained impassive.
Was it because Shirone thought it was an obvious choice? Or because he found the idea absurd? Vincent couldn’t tell.
Bishop continued speaking.
"After discussing it as a family, we concluded this is the best solution. There’s a young, childless cousin in our family. If we register Shirone under his na, he’ll gain noble status, making him eligible for enrollnt in the school. Of course, we have no intention of taking your son from you. It’s rely a formality—nothing will change."
rely a formality. Could it really be dismissed so easily?
Everything in this world was a matter of formalities.
Vincent wasn’t confident.
Would he truly feel no resentnt seeing Shirone registered as another family’s son?
’Shirone, say sothing. What should this father of yours choose? What is it you truly want?’
Vincent looked at his son with a heavy heart.
Then, Shirone’s brow furrowed—not because he was hesitating, but because he was frustrated at being unable to voice his thoughts.
As the sensitive topic hung in the air, Reina stepped forward and asked:
"Shirone, what do you think? It’s just paperwork. You’ll beco a noble and achieve your dreams. Of course, we’ll always consider your current parents as your real ones. Nothing will change."
Shirone’s frown deepened. Then, as if he couldn’t comprehend the suggestion, he spoke firmly.
"Of course, that’s out of the question. I am my father’s son. I won’t beco soone else’s adopted child."
"Sh-Shirone..."
Vincent was moved.
There wasn’t a hint of hesitation in Shirone’s voice—if anything, he sounded offended.
As the family mbers exchanged uneasy glances, Clump asked coldly:
"Are you certain? This is a chance to beco nobility. Luck like this doesn’t co to everyone."
"If I have to replace my father, I’d rather live as a commoner."
"A commoner cannot enroll in the magic academy."
"Then I won’t enroll."
"If you don’t enroll, you can’t beco a mage."
"Then I won’t beco one."
"Shirone!"
Clump shot up from his seat.
Shirone’s stubbornness frustrated him.
For a boy whose mind was usually sharp, why was he being so obstinate over sothing so simple?
"Is it guilt? The world isn’t so forgiving. To succeed, sotis you must let go. If not, was your dream so trivial after all?"
The towering Clump exuded intimidation just by standing, yet Shirone answered calmly.
"Perhaps it is."
"What?"
"No matter how grand my dream may be, it’s sothing I inherited from my parents. They are the roots that nourished , the fruit, and allowed to dream. Every opportunity I’ve had—whether joining the Ozent family as a servant, learning to read, or even this chance now—was only possible because of them. Compared to the countless opportunities my parents gave , this one ans nothing. To deny my roots now and take nourishnt from another... would be no different from telling to wither and die."
The room fell silent.
Not just because they were moved by Shirone’s words, but because they recognized the truth in them.
Clump’s eyes wavered.
’It’s not guilt. This boy instinctively understands the essence of cause and effect.’
Even if he missed this opportunity, life would bring others. But the mont he denied everything that had shaped him, he would lose it all.
A thought crossed Clump’s mind.
Had he been wrong from the start? Even without anyone’s help... would this boy still beco a mage?
’Rian... perhaps you were the lucky one.’
If even the Ozent family’s honor was nothing more than a fleeting opportunity to Shirone—
’No one can hold this boy back.’
Unless Shirone himself reached out first.
As the silence stretched, Shirone finally smiled.
"I’m grateful for the offer. But I cannot accept it. My parents are the two people in this very room."
Vincent’s fists clenched.
Sha washed over him. He wanted to crawl under his chair.
How could he have felt resentnt over re paperwork? His son trusted him so completely—and yet, as a parent who had given him nothing, he had dared to feel slighted.
"Please... take Shirone as the Ozent family’s adopted son."
"Father."
Vincent bowed his head deeply.
"Please accept Shirone as your adopted son! I beg you!"
No one thought him a pitiful parent. They, too, had families.
But stubbornness wouldn’t change anything.
"I understand your feelings, but there’s nothing we can do. How can we ignore Shirone’s will?"
"Shirone... Shirone isn’t actually my child."
"Dear!"
Eyes widened at Vincent’s declaration—but no one was more shocked than Shirone.
Not because of the revelation. Truthfully, everyone present had already suspected.
Shirone’s appearance and build were nothing like his parents’.
But this was different from paperwork.
Vincent was ready to give up everything for his son.
"My wife and I couldn’t have children. Shirone ca to us by chance. As you’ve seen, he’s clearly of noble blood—a son too good for . If he becos a noble’s adopted son, he’ll reclaim his rightful place. It wouldn’t be denying his roots."
The logic gave the room pause.
But Shirone, looking deeply hurt, shattered their thoughts with a cry.
"Dad!"
"Sh-Shirone..."
"What are you doing? How could you say this without discussing it with ? You never once ntioned it before!"
"I’m sorry, Shirone. But you’re old enough now to—"
"Do you know why I never asked? Because everyone has only one father. One mother. How many parents are you trying to give ? Because of you, I’m about to have six!"
Vincent froze.
Two adoptive parents, himself and his wife, and the two who abandoned Shirone—six in total. The absurdity of what he was doing to his son struck him.
"I just... didn’t want you to give up your dreams because of ."
"Who said I’m giving up? If I work hard, opportunities will co! Do you have any idea how it feels to be abandoned by your parents twice?"
The mont he saw tears welling in Shirone’s eyes, Vincent realized his mistake.
His son was wise beyond his years—but still only sixteen.
"Shirone, I’m sorry! What was I thinking? I’ll never hand you over to anyone. I’ll make sure you achieve your dreams!"
"Dad!"
As Vincent pulled him into an embrace, Shirone finally buried his face in his chest, wiping away tears.
How much had he been holding back? This deep-hearted boy who never showed his pain.
As the Ozents watched warmly, Bishop was particularly moved.
He, too, was a father who had raised four children alone after losing his wife.
Bishop whispered to Clump.
"It seems we’ll need you to step in, Father."
"You’re really asking this old man to flex his influence? Even the craftiest scholars can’t bend Alpheas’ stubbornness."
Though Clump grumbled, his expression wasn’t displeased—as if he still had so leverage.
"Then, as family head, I’ll have to insist. Let’s try breaking through with a ’special exception.’ I hear you have an old debt to call in."
"Hmph! As if Alpheas owes just one or two favors. The problem is, he’s not the type to bend rules."
"Is it impossible?"
"Heh. Who knows? For a rule-bound fool, brute force is the best dicine, no?"
Bishop smiled silently.
He rembered his own predicant—forced into the role of family head by that very sa brute force.
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