My Family in the Novel?

Chapter 175: First Act 44: The Sun

After avoiding Sasha's relentless attacks, we were now stuck inside a building as we took a quick rest.

"She should've lost us by now" I commented as I peeked outside the windows, seeing that the relentless attacks had ceased. It seems Sasha stopped following us now.

It seems the itchiness she's feeling all over her body was too much for a newborn vampire like her. Even though I was hoping for a more dangerous scene, I guess I'll have to put up with this for now.

"You...! Why would you do something so stupid?" said Euphemia right behind me as she hurriedly fed the kids some stamina-enhancing potions.

Just how many potions does she have stored around that cloak of hers? Does she not run out of vials?

Considering the number she used against the monsters we faced so far, I thought she would've run out by now.

"Well, it worked, right?"

I said to her with a genuine smile, though all I got in return was her angered look. It seems Bishop Austin was still having a hard time with the wounds all over his body.

Despite giving him a high-grade healing potion, it seems it can't heal all of the wounds.

Makes sense, considering the blood Sasha manipulated was the blood rain of the blood wyvern; the draconic and toxic trait inside it is probably poisoning his mana veins right now.

It would be bad if I gave him any more potions as it might act as a poison instead, he just has to fight through the pain his feeling right now.

And although I want to give them some time to rest properly, Aria and the others would be teleporting in just about 10 minutes.

'We can't miss it'

"I'm sure you guys want to take some time to rest, but it's better if we go now. We don't have much time left"

They just nodded at my words. I guess the situation isn't exactly favorable, whether we take some time or not.

….

This boy has proven to be far more extraordinary than I initially perceived. At first, I merely considered him a prodigious alchemist, his intellect shining brightly in the realm of potion-making. Little did I know that hidden beneath that genius was a warrior of remarkable skill with the sword.

As the forest boar charged relentlessly towards me, I swiftly swung my baton, smashing the creature aside. My eyes, however, were drawn to the figure of Adrian in the distance. He had seamlessly transitioned from his role as an alchemist to that of a formidable swordsman, effortlessly taking the lead in our group.

In normal circumstances, as a high-ranking priest and paladin, it would be my duty to assume the frontline position. However, the wounds that adorned my body threatened to reopen if I pushed myself too hard. Reluctantly, I acknowledged the reality of my limitations and entrusted the crucial role to the young man who had proven his mettle.

It was as if he wielded the sword with the same expertise, he applied to crafting potions. His every move was a dance, a harmonious blend of intellect and physical prowess.

His caring nature manifests not only in the protective gaze he directs towards us but also in the meticulous monitoring of our statuses. His eyes, a reflection of determination, never waver as he assesses the situation, skillfully administering buffing and healing potions precisely when needed.

As much as I loathe to admit it, there's an undeniable competence in him—a strength that extends beyond the physical.

Despite the persistent flames of resentment burning within me, a begrudging respect has begun to surface. I find myself acknowledging the qualities that drew Elena, my beloved daughter, to this young man.

However, my internal struggle persists. No matter how caring or strong he may be, as long as he is not the prophesied figure destined for my daughter, he has no rightful claim to her future.

The weight of the prophecy looms heavily, and I remain resolute in my belief that he must sever ties with Elena.

'This is all for the greater good, the hero must be born no matter what….'

"Why did you join the alchemy department?" I inquired, my curiosity getting the better of me.

As I approached him, his eyes registered a hint of surprise, perhaps not expecting my inquiry given the remarkable speed he possessed.

Despite his impressive running capabilities, he welcomed the conversation with a calm demeanor.

He held his chin in contemplation, briefly closing his eyes before responding in a nonchalant tone, "Well, because I'm just good at it."

The question lingered in my mind, especially considering the undeniable talent he displayed with the sword.

From an objective perspective, his choice seemed somewhat wasteful and even insulting to aspiring swordsmen.

The proficiency he demonstrated in swordplay was a coveted skill that many dedicated years to attain. Even I, a bystander, could foresee his potential to fully bloom with just a few more years of training.

"Haha, I guess it's quite surprising to see me being good with the sword, huh? Well, I guess I'm an alchemist after all… but even if time were to turn back, I'd probably choose alchemy still."

Perplexed, I probed further, "Why is that?"

His response carried an air of simplicity, devoid of grandiosity. "Well, nothing special really... It's just that it was the less violent among all the courses given," he explained, his voice resonating with gentle affection. "And besides, my family already has a bunch of sword geniuses. I don't think we need one more."

I see... This is his true nature. Despite being inherently blessed with a talent designed for chaos and violence, Adrian has chosen a path starkly different from what society, and perhaps even his own family, would expect of him.

However how did he manage to avoid the consequences of such a deviation?

Concealing such a talent tailored for the martial arts, especially from a father as renowned as the Duke, the continent's strongest swordsman, would be no small feat.

The Duke, a figure of martial prowess and a guardian of the family legacy, would undoubtedly have high expectations for his son. To imagine that Adrian could easily hide such extraordinary sword skills from him seems implausible.

The Duke, known for his discerning eye and commitment to the sword, would likely detect the slightest hint of such talent in his son.

Knowing the martial family's unwavering dedication to producing powerful swordsmen for the empire, it would be inconceivable for the Duke to accept Adrian's choice to tread the path of alchemy.

Unless….

he had hidden his exceptional sword skills from the very beginning.

It makes the greatest sense.

As a father myself, I kind of empathize with the Duke.

One of his only two sons is choosing a different path, and one that wastes this talent at that how sad.

'I heard that the Tellus household only has one child they could consider a genius in this era, and that's Lilliana Vulter Tellus, the flower of the empire and Adrian's older sister. However, if he were to hone this talent of his, he would also be considered and hailed as one of those geniuses.'

Although he's considered a genius in alchemy, as he bested Euphemia Dunhaven in the rankings of the alchemy department, ultimately, everyone still thought that Euphemia was the better alchemist.

After all, the ranking system for the departments without any actual combat can be rather subjective, unlike sword skills and magic, where you have a clear, actual winner in overall strength, especially in a battle setting.

Truly his talents were such a waste.

If only fate had been kinder, I might have treated this young man, Adrian, with more compassion. Elena's eyes, filled with hatred, bore into me, a reminder of my failure not just as a father but as a human being. I failed to empathize with her perspective, forcing her into a breakup with Adrian based on some celestial prophecy, an absurd notion. At the core of it all, she was a human being, capable of both love and hate. Unfortunately, it seemed that I had received the latter.

"Aria!"

"Adrian, Euphemia!?"

Arriving at the academy square, we were met with a bustling scene – ordinary citizens, injured knights, fainted mages, and a myriad of people crowded together, creating a chaotic tableau.

Taking in the surroundings, I assumed this was the safe haven they spoke about.

My attention was captivated by a colossal magic circle on the ground, a high-grade teleportation spell in progress.

Principal Victoria, along with a determined blue-haired student, was in the center, coordinating efforts to ensure the safety of everyone involved.

However, amidst this moment of relief, a somber realization dawned upon me – my time with them was drawing to a close.

Holding the holy relic in my hands, its weight served as a poignant reminder. The once-beautiful city now lay in ruins, and while complete restoration seemed unlikely, there was still a chance for cleansing.

This catastrophe's impact would reverberate across the continent, and the malevolent forces responsible would relish in the fear that gripped the hearts of its people.

It became clear that preventing such a fate was a responsibility I couldn't ignore.

"Hey, where are you going?"

Bert, the young kid who had unexpectedly grown attached to me amidst the chaos. His small hands clung tightly to my sleeves, and he questioned my seemingly unconventional decision to walk away.

Bert's voice carried a mix of anger and concern, laying bare the contradiction in his emotions. It was touching to witness the authenticity in the way a child wears their heart on their sleeve, unable to hide genuine worry behind a facade.

Smiling gently, I reached out to pat his head, attempting to soothe his concerns. There was a purity in his actions that warmed my heart, making it difficult to resist the urge to reassure him. "You're safe now, child. Stay here. I still have things I must do."

However, Bert wasn't ready to let me go so easily. Frustration colored his features, and he spoke with a hint of disbelief, "Huh, are you crazy?"

Chuckling softly at his genuine concern, I appreciated the sincerity in his words.

"Hoho, are you worried about me now? I appreciate your kindness, young Bert, but I'm sorry. I must go now."

The young boy's concern transformed into a protective stubbornness.

"What are you going to do out there? You'll die, you know!"

His words resonated with a sincerity that made it clear he genuinely cared for my well-being. Even his sisters and the others behind us wore expressions of concern, having caught wind of our argument.

"I need to find my daughter" as those words left my mouth, immediately caused Bert to release his grip with a mixture of sadness and guilt etched on his face.

Whatever thoughts raced through his mind; I simply patted his head gently.

'It wasn't a guilt, a child like him had to bear'