It was only a few minutes before I would have a conversation with Elena’s father.
And speaking of Elena’s father—
Duke Joachim Edelweiss.
Elena’s father, and a man I had only t once before.
He was currently the head of the Tower of Dawn, one of the seven Magic Towers, and a mage renowned for his overwhelming talent and accomplishnts. However, there was one more thing everyone knew about him—his temper was as famous as his magic.
In the original story, there was no way Elena would have forgotten to contact her father. If she had, Joachim would have stord into this place the mont he saw Damian and declared the engagent null and void on the spot. No negotiations. No discussion.
Which ant she must have contacted him already—most likely while under Damian’s watch.
In other words, this situation existed only because I was different from the original Damian.
Thinking about that, I felt an odd sense of relief. Unlike that man, I had nothing to hide and nothing I needed to defend.
I glanced at Elena and spoke before I could overthink it.
"Does Elena want to stay in Sarham?"
"Yeah? Uh—uh, what do you an by that?"
She blushed imdiately.
For a brief mont, my mind went completely blank. Then it hit —how my words must have sounded. I had asked the question exactly as it had ford in my head, without filtering it at all.
"Oh—no, no, not like that. That’s not what I ant," I hurriedly said. "I was just asking what you think about staying here until the academy’s entrance ceremony. I didn’t think it through before speaking."
She stared at for a mont, as if processing my explanation.
Then she smiled.
"Of course," she said softly. "I an... I’m the owner of Isilia Pavilion now. So staying in Sarham from now on is the natural thing to do, isn’t it?"
Her tone carried a quiet certainty, as if she were confirming sothing rather than asking.
I quickly covered my mouth with my hand to hide the ridiculous grin threatening to show itself. Her words—and the way she looked at while saying them—felt far too dangerous for my heart.
"I—I see," I replied, forcing myself to sound composed. "Then... for now, let’s go. We should inform the Duke."
She took my hand without hesitation.
"I understand," she said, smiling brightly. "Let’s go together."
Her grip was warm, steady.
Co to think of it, even in the original story, it had been Joachim who permitted Elena to stay in Kraus Castle for a year.
If Elena herself requested it, he would never refuse.
If anything, he would simply make sure he could keep in close contact with her.
Which ant that from now on, we would be seeing him often.
I let out a quiet breath.
eting Duke Joachim Edelweiss again...
This ti, at least, I could face him without fear.
I had believed—no, I had hoped—that a doting father would never refuse his daughter’s request.
At least, that was what I thought before speaking to him through the crystal ball.
The mont the light shimred to life, Joachim’s face appeared within it.
I stood beside my father, who was holding the crystal ball with both hands, his shoulders stiff as he forced a nervous laugh.
[Elena. It’s been a while.]
"Ah, Father..."
It was Joachim’s face reflected in the crystal ball, but his warm, familiar voice carried an edge this ti—sharp, restrained, unmistakably irritated.
[Please return to rohim for now.]
"...Yes?"
Elena—no, I—and even my father froze.
His words ca too suddenly, too decisively, as if there were no room for negotiation.
"Hey! What are you talking about all of a sudden—"
[You, be quiet.]
Joachim cut him off without hesitation.
[Elena, you will return to rohim. And you, this idiots son, will co with her. This is not a discussion.]
My father’s mouth opened, then shut again.
"W-Wait, Joachim. You can’t just—"
[I have said what I needed to say.]
Joachim’s gaze shifted, piercing straight through the crystal ball, as though he could see everything beyond it.
[If I do not hear that you have departed within two days, I will co there myself and take Elena back.]
"Wha—Hey! Joachim! Wait a minute!"
The light flickered.
And then the image vanished.
"...This bastard seriously just said whatever he wanted and hung up?!"
My father stared at the now-dull crystal ball in disbelief, tapping it repeatedly and raising his voice as if Joachim could sohow still hear him.
"Joachim! Hey! Answer ! You can’t just drop sothing like that and disappear!"
There was no response.
The room fell into a heavy silence.
My father lowered the crystal ball slowly, his expression torn between outrage and unease.
"...What the hell is going on?" he muttered.
I didn’t answer.
Neither of us moved.
Joachim Edelweiss had passed through our lives once again—like a sudden storm—leaving nothing but confusion in his wake.
’What on earth is happening here?’
For a long mont, none of us spoke.
The silence felt heavier than Joachim’s voice had been—thick, pressing, as if the air itself had turned solid.
Elena was the first to move.
She slowly tightened her grip on my hand, as though grounding herself. When I looked at her, her expression was calm—but too calm. The kind of composure that only appeared when soone was forcing themselves not to react.
"...Father sounded angry," she said quietly.
"That’s putting it mildly," my father muttered. "He sounded like he was one sentence away from teleporting here and blowing the roof off."
Elena let out a small, troubled breath.
"He wouldn’t normally say sothing like that without explaining himself," she continued. "Even when he’s angry... he usually tells why."
That bothered too.
Joachim Edelweiss was known for his temper, yes—but he wasn’t irrational. In the original story, when he opposed Elena’s engagent, he did so loudly, directly, and with reasons that left no room for argunt.
This ti, though...
There had been no accusations.
No ntion of Damian.
No ntion of the engagent.
Just one order.
Return to rohim.
Within two days.
"Did sothing happen in rohim?" I asked.
Elena hesitated, then shook her head.
"Not that I know of. If there was an ergency, he would’ve said so." She frowned slightly. "And he wouldn’t have dragged you into it like that."
My father clicked his tongue.
"That part annoyed the most. ’This idiot’s son,’ he says. The nerve—"
"Please?," Elena interrupted gently.
"...Right. Sorry."
I exhaled slowly, organizing my thoughts.
In the original story, Joachim’s anger had been explosive—but predictable. This felt different. Controlled. Urgent. Almost... cautious.
Whatever the reason was, We had to go.
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