A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 184: Desperate Situation (2)
To me, the concept of “father”—that is, my father in this life—was, as I’ve said before, not someone I was particularly close to.
From the start, we just didn’t get along. After my mother’s death, that already awkward relationship only grew more distant.
Of course, I had neither the skill nor ability to narrow that distance. I didn’t really know how to, and frankly, I never felt the need.
And perhaps that’s because I’d been quite content for a long time with the vague, ambiguous relationship I had with my father.
Maybe it was because my previous life had been such an utter disaster that I came to believe, even well into adulthood, that such strained father-son dynamics were perfectly normal.
Separate from all that, I never really knew what my father thought about it. At best, I can only guess that maybe he felt similarly.
At any rate, for all these reasons, the relationship between my father and me has remained awkward to this day.
“Cough, cough...”
The reason I’m thinking back on all of this now is simple—because our first reunion in nearly a year has turned out to be an absolute disaster.
“...Damn it.”
The side of my torso, which had taken a direct hit from the half-dragon girl, was still aching with a sharp, throbbing pain.
It was a miracle my body hadn’t been torn apart by the dragon breath that hit me dead-on. But judging by the pain, at least a few of my ribs had to be broken.
As a result, I had no choice but to slump back down in place—even though my father was standing right in front of me. How disgracefully unfilial.
“Ah, um... H-Hello?”
“......”
And the disgrace didn’t end there. Standing next to the long-lost son his father hadn’t seen in a year were two women, both prominent figures in the black magic circles.
What a humiliation for a family of white magicians. Worse still, they weren’t even my comrades. I’d been waiting for the day I could introduce Lunelle and Parsha properly, and now, what if he mistook these strange women for my companions?
“Ugh...”
I opened my mouth to try and say something—anything—but had to shut it quickly as a wave of nausea surged up from my gut.
Not because of dizziness like Ember earlier. Ever since taking the direct blast of dragon breath, my control over my mana had felt off.
Could it be that my mana circuit had been twisted? In a moment of life-or-death like this? That would be incredibly bad.
“Guh...!”
Trying to pull myself together and stand up, I was immediately overtaken by a violent retching—blood gushed from my mouth in a torrent.
It was so much that for a moment, I wondered if I might die like this. I gave up on getting back up and collapsed to the floor again.
“M-My mana circuit...”
“Cough, cough...”
“Hey, stay conscious and relax your body. If you force it in that state, your mana circuit could be permanently damaged.”
Thankfully, due to the swift intervention of the Death Knight—though I didn’t know why—the situation didn’t get any worse. But I felt all the remaining strength drain out of me.
‘...What did he mean by stealing the relic?’
Because of that, I lost even the energy to ask my father the question I had to ask.
‘Father... why...?’
My father had supposedly arrived in the north about a year ago. Under secret orders from the Emperor. Could this situation be related to that?
There were countless other things I needed to ask. Like, what were the coordinates written in that letter? And why had the one who delivered them been the Duke of Embergreen?
And of all people, why had he chosen Lady Meredia Embergreen as my fiancée?
Did he know about the secret that lay between me and Lady Meredia? And if so, how had he come to know it...?
‘My eyes... are closing...’
I wanted to shout and demand answers, but my consciousness was already slipping beyond the reach of light.
“......”
Just before my eyes shut completely, I used the last of my strength to lock in the image of my father, standing off in the distance.
“...?”
It was then that a small question mark floated into my mind.
‘...What is that?’
My father, standing far away and looking down at me, had an incredibly cold gaze.
But it wasn’t the kind of gaze my so-called parents had given me in my past life.
It was complicated, delicate—a mixture of sorrow and cold rationality. There was hesitation in it. Something else...
‘That look... I’ve seen it somewhere...’
Just before everything faded to black, I finally realized where I’d seen that familiar expression.
‘...Ah. Right.’
It was the same look Lady Meredia had given me when she returned from the Shadow Assembly and tried to hide something from me.
***
“......”
Count Ringaarden looked silently down at his wounded son, collapsed at his feet, before slowly turning his head.
“Is what you said just now... true?”
The half-dragon girl who had struck Whitney was now glaring fiercely at him, gathering mana in her palm.
“Answer me, human.”
“......”
“Was it you who stole the relic?”
The sheer killing intent in her voice would have rendered an ordinary human speechless.
“...It was.”
But Count Ringaarden, staring back at the girl with a calm, expressionless face, answered with equal composure and no trace of fear.
“I see. Then die.”
In that moment, the air in the cave instantly chilled—and the girl’s figure vanished on the spot.
—CRACK...!
A heartbeat later, an awful screech like blades scraping stone tore through the cave.
—CRRRAAAAACK...
The girl’s fingernails had grown long and sharp, and now they were sinking into Count Ringaarden’s neck, tearing it apart.
“Eek!”
Seeing the girl mercilessly shred the Count’s neck to ribbons with her claws, Ember went pale and stumbled backward.
“B-Blood!”
“...Mm.”
“Th-That’s... that’s fatal. No one could survive that...”
Even from their distance, both Ember and the Death Knight could tell that the Count had no chance of surviving that attack.
Blood was gushing like a fountain, soaking the entire floor, and the girl’s claws had slashed clean through his neck in multiple directions.
Even someone with no combat experience would know—no one could live through that.
“...Next is you.”
With a voice cold as ice, the girl who had just reduced the Count’s neck to a lump of meat turned slowly to face the others.
“W-We didn’t... we didn’t do anything wrong!”
“......”
“Th-The one you just killed—he’s the one who stole the relic, right? So if you recover it, everything’s fine, right? H-Haha...”
Backing away, Ember finally stopped when her back hit the cold cave wall. She forced the most pathetic smile she could manage.
“That’s something we can’t know. You might be on the same side as him.”
“W-What? That’s absurd...”
But there was no way such logic would work on a dragon already consumed by bloodlust.
“Count Ringaarden was recognized by the Dragon Lord. And the young man collapsed over there is, to my knowledge, his son. Am I wrong?”
“Uh, that is...”
“A typical dragon might let that go. But I’m not the type to leave loose ends.”
At the end of her words, Ember could say nothing and began trembling with a tearful expression.
“I-I should’ve had a special bonus... a cheat item... a console command...!”
“......”
“I should’ve at least snagged a Dragon Slayer Sword ahead of time... If I could’ve swung that just once, I’d have no regrets...”
Though she could’ve closed the gap in an instant, the girl deliberately walked toward Ember slowly—heightening the sense of dread.
“......”
No, to be precise, Ember wasn’t even on the girl’s radar anymore.
“...Huff, huff...”
All her attention was focused instead on the Death Knight, who was glaring at her while struggling to breathe.
Indeed, to the girl, Ember had no combat presence whatsoever—less than an ant.
But the Death Knight? If not for his depleted mana, he would’ve posed a serious threat to her.
So naturally, every fiber of her awareness was zeroed in on him.
—Shhhh...
Perhaps that’s why she didn’t notice the quiet sound from behind.
“H-Huh?”
But Ember, still staring at the girl approaching her, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) suddenly widened her eyes.
“...Hah!?”
At the same moment, the girl sensed something and spun around in alarm.
“......”
Somehow, Count Ringaarden was standing perfectly upright with his feet in a pool of blood.
The neck she had just torn to pieces looked completely unharmed. No, not just unharmed—there wasn’t a single scratch.
And yet, his clothes were still soaked with the blood she had spilled, and his cold gaze and lifeless expression remained the same. The dissonance was jarring.
—SPLASH...!
Just as everyone in the cave was feeling that eerie wrongness, an ice spear shot by the girl pierced the Count’s left eye.
“Eek... Huh?”
“W-What the...?”
“...As expected.”
And this time, they all clearly saw what happened next.
—Squirm, squirm...
The empty hole in the Count’s face, where the ice spear had punctured, began to fill back in with flesh.
—CLINK...!
The spear embedded in his skull popped out and clattered to the ground.
Seconds later, the eye that had been obliterated regrew completely and resumed staring calmly at the girl.
“G-Gross...”
That was Ember’s summary, staring blankly at the sight.
No one could disagree—it was a grotesque recovery process, plain and simple.
“...There’s a reason Count Ringaarden is feared among black mages.”
“Huh?”
“No matter how many times you kill him, he keeps regenerating over and over until he chokes the life from you. Cut off his arms, legs, heart, even his head—it doesn’t matter. That’s how he fights.”
“Th-That’s even possible...?”
“Even the paladins of the Holy Theocracy can’t do that. But he’s the exception.”
Only then did the girl realize the Death Knight had never been aiming at her.
She had only ever been watching Count Ringaarden.
“B-But still. What if we destroy his entire body? Wouldn’t that work?”
“You think none of us have tried that?”
As the Death Knight answered Ember’s question, a cold sweat trickled down his brow.
“...Every black mage who attempted it... died.”
“W-Why?”
“Simple. Mana depletion.”
With that single phrase, the entire situation was made clear.
“...Ugh.”
The aura of bloodlust the girl had been radiating suddenly began to waver.
“......”
But even then, Count Ringaarden’s cold gaze remained fixed forward.
“...Whitney.”
More precisely, on his unconscious son, lying collapsed on the ground.
