Few monts later...
Joachim, who had disappeared along with the empty carriage, reappeared before us as suddenly as he had left.
Unlike his first arrival, he did not look relaxed this ti.
His face was slightly reddened, and the veins on his temple throbbed faintly, as if he had forced himself to remain calm. In one hand, he held a condensed lump of mana—so dense and violent that even I, who was no stranger to magic, felt a chill run down my spine.
That thing... if released carelessly, it could easily blow away the entire Kraus Castle.
But the mont his eyes landed on Elena standing beside , his expression shifted. The anger drained from his face as though soone had poured cold water over it. His posture straightened, his lips curved into a restrained smile, and he returned to his usual dignified deanor.
As if nothing had happened.
Only the terrifying sphere of mana in his hand remained, humming faintly, refusing to disappear.
My father noticed it too.
Seeing Joachim struggle to vent his anger in front of Elena, Father let out an amused chuckle.
"As expected of a great wizard," he said lightly. "Traveling back and forth between rohim and Sarham in such a short ti. Truly impressive. I suppose even the royal magicians would be ashad."
Joachim’s eye twitched.
"Arthur!" he snapped, his voice echoing across the courtyard. "How dare a clown like you mock !?"
"Clown?" Father placed a hand over his chest in exaggerated shock. "Who are you calling a clown? And why are you so angry at soone speaking with complete sincerity? Is it my fault that you suddenly appeared, stole a carriage, and vanished without explanation?"
"You call that sincerity?" Joachim barked. "You were smirking!"
"I always smirk," Father replied calmly. "It’s my natural expression."
As his son, watching my father provoke his long-ti friend so shalessly was... painful.
To be honest, I was not paying much attention to their words. My eyes were fixed on the dense mass of mana Joachim was still holding. It pulsed faintly, unstable but restrained, like a storm trapped inside a glass sphere.
I was less concerned about their argunt and more concerned about when that thing might accidentally fly toward us.
It was unlikely that Father would die from a direct hit. He was not soone who would fall so easily.
But the castle behind us? That was another matter.
Even Duke Joachim, despite being an exceptional wizard, was still human. And humans made mistakes—especially when they were angry.
The air between them trembled, thick with restrained mana. It was not just power—it was pride, history, and years of unresolved tension pressing against one another.
Strangely, neither of them looked worried.
From the outside, they seed calm. Too calm. As if this was not a confrontation that could level half the estate. As if they were rely two old n arguing over wine.
But I was not calm.
It seed that the parties concerned were not at all concerned about it. It would seem that both of them were confident in their skills, but from the standpoint of soone standing next to them, I felt uneasy.
My fingers quietly slid to the hilt of the sword hanging from my waist. I did not draw it, but I loosened it in its sheath, ready to strike it down at any mont. My eyes never left the growing sphere of mana in Joachim’s palm.
It pulsed.
Bright. Violent. Unstable.
If he threw that mana bomb at my father, I would not hesitate.
"Are you done showing off?" my father asked lazily, as if comnting on the weather.
Joachim’s jaw tightened. "Showing off? You think this is a display?"
"That lump in your hand?" Father glanced at it. "It’s flashy. Dramatic. Very you."
A sharp crack echoed as the mana sphere expanded for a split second, distorting the air around it.
"You overstepped," Joachim said, his voice low. "You involved yourself in matters you promised to stay away from."
"And you," Father replied calmly, "forgot who you were speaking to."
For a mont, neither of them moved.
I prepared myself.
But fortunately, it didn’t happen.
The sphere of mana flickered. Then, slowly—almost reluctantly—it dissolved into faint particles of light that scattered into the wind.
As an old friend of my father, Joachim himself must have known very well that he would not be able to hurt my father with such a thing.
If he truly wanted to attack, he would have poured high-level magic the mont he arrived. He would have reshaped the sky, frozen the earth, or summoned sothing catastrophic.
But that huge lump of mana had only been enough to show how angry he was.
Nothing more.
Joachim exhaled sharply. "You always do this."
"Do what?" Father tilted his head.
"Stand there. Smile. As if you’re above it all."
Father’s lips curved slightly. "I am above most things."
"That arrogance is going to be the death of you."
"And your temper," Father replied evenly, "will be the death of everyone around you."
Silence fell again, but this ti it was no longer explosive. It was heavy. Old.
Joachim ran a hand through his hair, looking more tired than furious now. "You should have told ."
"You would not have listened."
"You didn’t give the chance."
Father’s gaze softened—barely. "Joachim. If I believed you would lose control, I would never have acted without speaking to you first."
"And yet here we are."
"Yes," Father said quietly. "Here we are."
I had never seen them like this before.
Not as Duke and Lord. Not as two pillars of power.
But as two n who once trusted each other.
Joachim eventually gave up on continuing the conversation with my father after dispersing the last traces of mana from his hand.
"This isn’t over," he said, though there was no real threat left in his voice.
"It never is," Father replied.
Joachim then looked towards .
"You," he said, his eyes sharp again. "Keep your sword steady. Don’t draw it unless you’re prepared to live with what follows."
I t his gaze but did not respond.
In truth, Joachim’s appearance was nothing short of a declaration of defeat.
His shoulders, usually straight and dignified, seed just a little lower. The proud glint that normally lived in his eyes had dimd, replaced by reluctant acceptance.
And yet—
My father turned his head and looked at with the face of a man who had just won a glorious war. His lips curved upward ever so slightly, his chin lifted in silent triumph.
It was the sa expression he always wore whenever he managed to outwit soone.
This kind of father’s appearance was not unfamiliar to . It was the father I had grown up watching—confident, competitive, and faintly smug.
But Joachim himself was standing right in front of us, clearly the one who had been defeated.
Under normal circumstances, I would have smiled and played along with Father’s theatrics. I would have praised him, teased him, and let him bask in his victory.
This ti, however, I was not in a position to do so.
Joachim sighed. It was a long, tired sigh—one that carried both frustration and reluctant admiration. He looked at , then at Elena.
For a mont, sothing softened in his eyes.
Then he raised his hand and gently patted my shoulder.
"Ah... then what about the luggage?" he asked in a tone that tried to sound casual. "Should I bring it back?"
His voice paused for a beat before he continued.
"I’m certain. The servants... the ones in the carriage earlier were Haley and Ken, so I won’t be needing them anymore." He narrowed his eyes slightly. "Unless the children standing in front of are servants you disguised through reverse magic."
Father scoffed imdiately.
"...Your skills have deteriorated! I don’t believe Joachim Edelweiss, the great wizard of the world, would fail to see through sothing as cheap as reverse magic."
Joachim clicked his tongue. "I only said it once."
His gaze returned to Elena. The sternness lted completely, replaced by warmth.
"I’m sure I can recognize my daughter."
Elena stiffened slightly but did not pull away.
Then Joachim’s eyes shifted back to . His expression changed—just barely. A faint crease ford between his brows, as if he were trying to read sothing that refused to be read.
He patted my shoulder once more.
"And you..." he murmured. "You’ve grown."
"I was always growing," I replied calmly.
Father let out a dry laugh. "He ans you’ve changed."
Joachim studied my face longer than necessary. "Perhaps."
A brief silence fell between the three of us. The air felt strangely heavy, as though words were being weighed carefully before being spoken.
Elena finally broke it. "Father... you really lost?"
Her tone was innocent, but her eyes sparkled with curiosity.
Joachim’s lips twitched. "Lost is such an unpleasant word."
Father folded his arms. "Defeated. Overwheld. Outclassed. You may choose whichever you prefer."
"You are insufferable," Joachim muttered.
"And yet victorious."
Joachim exhaled again, though this ti there was a faint smile hidden in it. "Fine. I admit it. This ti, I was outmaneuvered."
Father smirked proudly.
"But," Joachim added, raising a finger, "a wizard’s battle is not decided in a single exchange."
"Oh?" Father tilted his head. "Are you suggesting a rematch?"
"I am suggesting," Joachim replied smoothly, "that next ti, I will not underestimate you."
Elena looked between the two n, clearly accustod to this rivalry yet slightly amused by it.
---
Author Note
Thanks for reading the Chapter. I hope you liked it and continue to read more in future.
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