Reborn As Papa Silva

Chapter 14: Changing Fate (3)

Chapter 14: Changing Fate (3)

The high moon cast its brilliant glow down on the quaint village of Hage. All its villagers had retreated into their dwellings for the night; however, the cobbled streets were not completely deserted.

The clicking of boots, echoed rhythmically, off the cobblestone, as Sebastian and Dorothy, made their way through the village. Although they walked in silence, their footsteps unconsciously grew quicker, as the midnight breeze, brought a chill to their bodies.

It was time to go home.

The sleepwalking Dorothy suddenly snapped awake, her eyes fluttering open groggily. It took her a moment of blinking, to understand her situation. She began to look around, scanning her surroundings, while rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and snapping back into focus.

A sheepish smile crept onto her face, as she awkwardly scratched her cheek, realizing she had fallen asleep once again.

Clearing her throat, she turned to the right, just now processing she was walking side by side, with her father.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" She pushed through her quavering voice and stuttering, to satisfy her curiosity.

Noticing his daughter's pause, Sebastian slowed his pace just a little for her to catch up to him, before giving her a light nod.

"Great!" And just like clockwork Dorothy's tired countenance, snapped back to her chipper mood, as she flashed him a grin of congratulations.

But that's all she did. She didn't press for more information, or details, despite her interest, as she respected his privacy. That was something Sebastian could appreciate, he already vowed not to lie to her, so if she truly insisted on knowing, he'd be pretty helpless.

In reality, telling Dorothy of his transmigration, probably wouldn't matter to the girl, that much. Because the only Sebastian she's ever known or cared for, was him, but still, he rather not broach that topic till his hand is forced. So hopefully never.

So, they just continued walking on, in sync, nearing the village outskirts as they steadily increased the distance between them and the demon skull. But soon, Dorothy's curiosity brought her to another topic, as she looked upwards to the night sky, feeling that it wasn't long till sunrise.

She furrowed her brows, and with her eyes trained forward, on the winding road, she spoke. "Why're we walking?" Dorothy was genuinely puzzled. Understanding her question was a bit vague, she elaborated. "I mean, it's getting pretty late, shouldn't we be flying back to the kingdom? It's pretty far away."

Sebastian, his eyes also facing forward, answered. "We will, but not until after we leave Hage."

Looking to the side, and seeing the confusion dancing on her face, he stifled a chuckle and explained. "Because it's very late, people are asleep. If we fly now, we might startle some people awake."

Seeing, her not really understanding, he further clarified. "Unlike the witches' forest, common realm, and noble realm there's no such thing as nightlife, here in the forsaken realm. People here greatly value their sleep, so they can wake up early to tend to their fields and crafts. It'd be quite inconsiderate for us to wake them, just to spare a few minutes."

Dorothy gave a nod of comprehension, and Sebastian briefly considered something, before adding on an afterthought. "It's also for you."

And her puzzlement was back, more bewildered than before. "For me? What do you mean?" Her brows were scrunched as she studied her father closely, focusing some mana on her eyes to better improve her vision under the dark curtain of the night.

Sebastian sighed softly, before answering her with a calm and measured tone. "The noble realm... is quite luxurious...has many nice things, and high-end stores and items...but it's also quite stuck up and stiff. Once you enter that world, your life will change, and not always for the better. I know you didn't escape one cage, just to be thrust into another, at least the witch's forest wasn't filled to the brim with folks walking with proverbial sticks up their ass."

Dorothy let out a light giggle, as Sebastian continued. "So...I thought I'd give you a chance to relish in your freedom, and relaxed peace once more. Trust me, you'll miss the days when you were free to act as you please, without having to constantly think of etiquette, decorum, how every word you speak, and action you take, can be interpreted and used against you. So, take your time, to enjoy this little walk, because you're rarely going to get chances like this in the future."

Dorothy paused briefly, before quickening her stride and dashing forward, twirling around to face Sebastian, arms tied behind her back. Her heart was filled with warmth, and she couldn't stop the grin creeping up onto her face at the consideration, nor would she want to. Smiling deeply, utterly content, her eyes closed as she spoke. "Thanks, Dad."

"Of course," Sebastian nodded stiffly and replied with a steady voice, appearing as unphased as always with his usual calm, and indifference.

Keyword appeared.

As Dorothy fell back into step beside him, he kept his eyes trained forward, not daring to look at her, because he knew his composure would fall apart. And the poised mental image he built for her, crumble along with it.

Why? Because someone just called him dad. Dad! Men are simple creatures, especially those from modern society. Nothing about Sebastian Silva's personality or memories could change his soul enough that he wouldn't be phased by that form of address.

Like many men before him, he was no exception, as he had a dad fetish. Not some weird kink, for his wife or girlfriend to call him daddy, but for his children to do so, in a purely paternal and parental manner. As of today, he is no longer just a father, but a dad too.

Silence engulfed, them once more, as they continued their walk, infinitely approaching the village exit. Sebastian kept his gaze lowered on the road, to calm his inner turmoil, when he felt a gentle elbow nudge into his ribs. It was soft and brief, but it instantly broke his reverie.

That's the third time.

Sebastian lifted his gaze to the side, to focus on Dorothy once more. He frowned heavily, intending to inform her that playful actions like these would be okay when they were alone, or inside Castle Silva, but otherwise, decorum was highly valued in the noble realm. Although he was the Patriarch of House Silva, who could bend many rules to his liking, it was also because of that he was held to a much higher standard, as a symbol of the higher classes.

Moreover, Dorothy will be facing a lot of stigma, and oppression in the future, for those who will envy her for being adopted into House Silva, and they'll use every little thing she does against her in an effort to break her spirit. So, he had to make it clear things like these, are a no-go, when in front of others.

But just as he was about to chide her, he stilled. He noticed she wasn't even looking at him. Rather he made out a serious expression on her face, eyes narrowed, and lips pressed into a thin line, as she pointed forward.

Following the direction of her finger, Sebastian was puzzled by what the fuss was. All he saw, was the Church resting on its plot like always. But then his eyes narrowed as he made out a silhouette in the distance, lurking around the church.

Channeling his mana in his eyes, in an effort to make out the figure, all he could identify was a hooded person, in a gray cloak. It was far too dark, to see anything that could give away any outstanding characteristics, he wasn't even sure of their gender.

Watching the figure moving stealthily, trying to peer inside the church through the holes in the wall, and the glass windows, Sebastian felt a churn in his stomach.

A wave of dread washed over him; his mind raced with concern. Did someone discover his donation? He instantly equated the figure to a petty thief who was after the gold he left, behind. Although that pouch was junk change for House Silva, it was enough for the average peasant family to climb the social ladder, to at least commoner status. Forget a single individual.

Sebastian didn't care much for the money; however, he knew this little gold was enough to drive the average peasant red-eyed, with greed. That desperation could make them do some pretty extreme things to get their hands on the money. This means Orsi, Yuno, and Asta could easily be put in harm's way. Especially the priest would likely be killed, to silence any reports, because only the dead can't speak.

And the Kingdom wouldn't invest much effort into investigating the perpetrator and bringing them to justice, besides putting up a vague wanted poster, that could point to anyone. Since this was a pretty common scene in the forsaken realm.

Feeling a chill run down his spine, he and Dorothy exchanged a silent glance. Regardless of just meeting a few hours ago, they had a tacit understanding of one another. No words were needed, they silently agreed to sneak up on the thief and restrain them before they could do something stupid.

But before they could make a move, the thief began to scan their surroundings as well. The thief seemed to be quite cautious, and alert, so naturally they wouldn't miss two silhouettes approaching them in the distance.

Sebastian felt the thief snap their head in their direction, and besides the darkness blackening out their face, he was quite confident their eyes locked with one another.

The thief stiffened, and without warning, spun on their heels and bolted over the crooked church fences into the forest. Their cloak billowed, behind them as they ran.

Shit! Sebastian wasn't willing to ignore them and let them get away. Thieves rarely give up, they'll just come back another day, one where he doubts, he'll be there to stop them, so he needs to settle this now.

Once more, Sebastian and Dorothy exchanged a quick glance. There was no hesitance in their response, their actions were immediate. A cloud of vibrant pink and lavender colors popped beside Dorothy and spat out a broom. She immediately hopped onto it, launching herself high into the air, with swiftness, soaring above to track the thief from the sky.

Meanwhile, Sebastian, took off on foot, coating his feet in reinforcement magic, to quicken his pace. In just a few big strides he already halved the gap, between them and entered the forest. In turn, this caused the thief to increase their speed as well, but it only slightly delayed the inevitable. Sebastian could sense the sloppy magic control, making him very confident, that they were no decent mage.

This wasn't some xianxia novel, so he didn't really have to worry about something like 'playing the pig to eat the tiger', but nonetheless he wouldn't let his guard down. Because desperate people, ready to risk it all for an opportunity are the most dangerous.

"Who are you?! What are you after?!" Sebastian demanded as he narrowed the distance further to about 11 yards. He considered just shooting them down from far away, but if they weren't that malicious, and had a good reason, he would probably regret it for life, so he tried to use words.

It was then the sprinting thief glanced back over their shoulders and broke their silence. Without breaking their stride, they yelled, "Stay away!", with a voice laced in fear.

There were a few things, about this that made Sebastian abruptly pause and stiffen. It wasn't so much the distinctly female voice. Sebastian doesn't care for gender or age, when it comes to crime, a criminal is a criminal, and no one gets a pass for having a pretty face or being young. If you're old enough to hurt, you're old enough to understand that you intend to hurt, and should be judged for it.

No there were two bigger things, that made him pause, the strangely familiar voice, the fear in her voice didn't so much as seem as if she was begging for mercy, but rather she felt scared...for him. Like she was warning him of some unseen danger. A frown furrowed his brow, as he resumed his chase but much slower this time, the distance between them widening once more, as he tried to piece together what she was trying to tell him.

Alas, it seemed not everyone is as patient as him.

Before he could voice any of his thoughts, a blur of motion shot overhead—Dorothy, high above on her broom, descending rapidly toward the figure. "Dorothy, wait!" he shouted, a note of urgency lacing his voice, but it was too late. As she neared the cloaked woman, something went awry. Dorothy suddenly lost her balance, the broom wobbling beneath her as if caught in a sudden gust of wind, and then, with a startled cry, she fell.

"Dorothy!" Sebastian screamed in worry, instinctively conjuring a water eagle to catch her. But just as Dorothy fell onto the creature, something strange happened. The water eagle trembled violently, its form breaking apart into countless droplets, failing to cushion her fall as she hit the ground hard, the sound echoing painfully in the still night air.

The cloaked figure screamed, her voice sharp with fear, and she stumbled backward, instinctively trying to put some distance between herself and the fallen girl. Yet she stopped abruptly about ten meters away, hesitating, her gaze locked onto Dorothy as she lay on the forest floor.

But once again, the fear seemed to be for Dorothy instead of herself. The cloaked woman's voice trembled as she spoke, her concern evident. "Is she alright?"

But Sebastian wasn't in the mood to respond to her right now. Sebastian rushed to Dorothy's side, his heart pounding in his chest. He knelt beside her, cradling her in his arms as he assessed the damage. "What on earth happened?" he asked, his voice laced with concern as he began to cast healing magic over her.

Dorothy, winded and dizzy, grimaced, her face twisted in pain. "Dad," she moaned, "I—I don't know... My mana..." Her words trailed off, and he could feel her energy draining away like sand slipping through his fingers. He focused more of his mana, into her spell, bathing his daughter a brilliant ocean blue hue, trying to rapidly refill her dwindling mana reserves, with his own.

But it felt like every time he added a drop to a drying lake, someone came by and took a bucket of water out. Sebastian stiffened, the urgency of the situation hitting him like a cold wave. He resumed his spell, focusing intently on her.

Strangely, as the cloaked woman, took another step back, he could feel the drain on Dorothy's mana, stopping.

Sebastian felt a sigh of relief before a nagging feeling drew his attention back to the cloaked woman. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Is your name... Richita?"

The cloaked woman trembled slightly at the sound of the name, her eyes widening with surprise. Slowly, almost hesitantly, she reached for her hood, pulling it back to reveal her face.

Sebastian felt his breath hitch in his throat. The woman before him was strikingly familiar—a slim figure with striking green eyes and medium-length, ash-blonde hair. A single strand protruded upwards from the center of her head, creating an uncanny resemblance to Asta.

She gazed down at Sebastian and the now-healed Dorothy, wonder etched across her features. "How do you know my name?" she asked softly.

Sebastian held her gaze for a brief moment, before gently helping Dorothy back up to her feet. The poor girl stumbled a bit, her legs unsteady, as she leaned on Sebastian for support. Her face was pale, her body weak, but she managed to stand with his help. He glanced down at her to make sure she was alright before turning his attention back to Richita.

His voice was calm but laced with curiosity and empathy as he spoke. "There's an urban legend," he began, "about a woman who lived on the outskirts of a nearby village. They say she had a unique constitution, something that caused her to drain mana and lifeforce from others around her."

Richita paused for a moment, a grimace working its way onto her face, pulling her thin lips into a deeper frown. She looked at Dorothy with a strange mix of guilt and sorrow. Her reaction was enough to affirm Sebastian's statement.

Sebastian further studied the woman, not paying much attention to the regret smeared on her face, but rather how far she was standing. He'd say about 10 meters, nearly 11 yards. Perhaps that's how far her affliction reaches, and anyone caught in that range, has their mana drained from them. That's also why she probably waited till I was that close to tell me to back off.

She probably doesn't like talking about her condition much, but the fact that we insisted on chasing her, left her with no choice.

As if reading my thoughts Richita, rubbed her right arm, and slowly and hesitatingly spoke. "My drain...reaches 8 meters...the extra two...just to be safe." She admitted quietly her voice tinged with shame.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow slightly at her response, noticing how oddly she spoke. There was a stilted, awkward quality to her speech like she wasn't used to holding a conversation. It was as if the words themselves felt foreign to her, like someone unused to social interaction. He quickly surmised that her long isolation had likely made her speech rusty, and disjointed. This might very well have been her first real conversation with another person in years.

He inwardly guessed that this stilted communication would continue—at least until the day Liebe, the devil she would later care for showed up in about four years and popped into her life. Until then, it seemed she would remain trapped in this lonely bubble, rarely speaking with anyone, always keeping her distance

Sebastian felt a deep sense of pity for the woman. Humans are creatures, reliant on social interaction, it is in our natural instincts, to pursue connections, and forge deep bonds with one another. Even introverts can only last so long locking themselves away in their rooms, and even then, at least in modern society, they have screens so they can connect with people around the world.

But to live, in this era, utterly isolated from the world for nearly their entire life, he doesn't understand how Richita survived till now. He would've long been driven insane. Perhaps only some monks or gurus could do what she's doing, but their situations are utterly different. Those guys choose this path, to cut ties with the material world, sever their karma, and pursue enlightenment, and reincarnation. They have a goal, a purpose. But she doesn't, she's had this life forced on her.

Richita rubbed her arm harder, scratching it lightly, as she peered through the gaps in the trees towards, Hage, towards the church. Guilt was written on her face, her voice uncertain. "I wasn't... I wasn't doing anything bad back at the church," she said, trying to defend herself. The weight of years spent in isolation and suspicion made her wary, even when there was no reason to be.

Sebastian quickly raised his hands in a placating gesture, his tone calm and reassuring. "I know," he said gently. "I trust you."

Those simple words seemed to reach deep into Richita. Her posture softened, her tension easing. Trust was something she hadn't felt in so long—certainly not from a stranger. Her eyes briefly flickered with emotion, but she quickly turned away. "I should probably get going," she muttered, her voice small, almost defeated. She began to walk away, her figure lonely and distant, fading into the night.

Watching her go, Sebastian felt a heaviness settle in his chest. There was something so tragically solitary about her—years of exile, of living on the fringes of society, all alone. He sighed; his voice quiet but deliberate as he called after her. "I visited the church this morning," he began, his words soft yet carrying weight. "I held a cute boy with ash-blonde hair and green eyes... who looked just like you."

Richita abruptly stopped in her tracks, her body going rigid. For a moment, she didn't move, as though the world had frozen around her.

Sebastian continued, his gaze never leaving her still form. "His name was Asta."

At the mention of her son's name, Richita trembled. Her entire frame shook violently, and though Sebastian couldn't see her face, he knew—he could feel it—she was fighting back tears. Years of separation, the pain of having to leave her child behind, all of it must have flooded back to her in an instant.

Richita wiped at her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she turned back toward them. Her red-rimmed eyes glistened in the moonlight, the raw emotion she had been holding in for so long finally bubbling to the surface. "How... how is he?" she asked, her voice trembling with both hope and fear. "How's Asta doing?"

Sebastian's expression softened, and he spoke gently, his words a balm to her aching heart. "He's doing fine. He's well cared for, loved, and perfectly healthy."

Hearing this, Richita's knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed by relief. "Oh, thank goodness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Tears streamed down her face as she sat there, her body sagging with the weight of her long-held guilt.

Dorothy felt a pang of guilt, in her chest, as she understood the woman she had pinned for a thief, had a much different goal in mind.

Sebastian looked down at the woman, who broke into a mess of tears, offering some words of solace and comfort. "The forsaken and common realms are going to be receiving a lot more money from the capital in the future," he said softly. "You won't have to worry about the church lacking the funds to care for your son."

Richita blinked through her tears, looking up at him with a mixture of gratitude and confusion. "How... how do you know that?"

Without a word, Sebastian slowly reached up and pulled back his hood, revealing his silver hair, which shimmered faintly in the moonlight. He wondered briefly if he would need to explain his lineage, considering how long she had been cut off from the world. But he didn't have to. The moment she saw the silver hair, she stilled, her eyes widening in recognition.

"You're... from House Silva," she said, the realization dawning on her. She made a small movement as if preparing to bow, instinctively falling into the customs of nobility.

Sebastian quickly waved her off, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I'm not into those formalities," he said with a touch of humor, though inwardly, he was already beginning to dread how often this would happen when someone comprehends his identity. The constant bowing and reverence—it was going to get old really fast.

Richita paused, her uncertainty lingering, but she nodded slowly, her eyes still filled with quiet wonder.

Sebastian took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he decided to break the ice with an introduction. "I'm Sebastian Silva," he said, nodding respectfully toward Richita. With a gesture, he pointed to Dorothy standing by his side. "And this is my daughter, Dorothy Unsworth."

Richita blinked in surprise at the different names. Seeing how different they looked, she pinned Dorothy for an illegitimate daughter. Seeing Sebastian adorned in a cloak, she pinned him for a noble with many mistresses and affairs, who sneaked away to check up on a stray child of his. Well, at least he's better than many nobles out there, at least he admits she's, his daughter. I heard many nobles never acknowledge or accept their bastard children,

Sebastian was unaware Richita's opinion of him dropped so much, from a single sentence.

Dorothy, keenly aware of the tension that hung in the air, broke the awkward silence with a question of her own. "Are you sneaking around the church to see your son?" Her voice was gentle but probing, trying to penetrate the layers of Richita's sorrow.

Richita nodded slowly, her head hanging in shame. "I know I shouldn't," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just being in my presence could kill him." There was a deep-seated regret in her words, the burden of a mother's love mixed with the guilt of her actions. "That's why I steeled my resolve and gave him away." Her shoulders slumped as she continued, "But I felt so lonely. I just wanted to see him one last time. Not to dare touch him or hold him—just to get a glimpse of his face, to watch him while he sleeps."

Dorothy watched Richita, her heart aching as she noticed the woman's hands clenching and unclenching, a physical manifestation of her sorrow. There was a deep pang of pity for the mother who had sacrificed so much. Yet, within that pity also stirred a faint wave of envy. Dorothy longed for a mother who could love and yearn for her so deeply, even if it meant enduring the pain of separation.

Does Mother feel anything from my absence? It doesn't have to be longing, but at least a bit of annoyance would be nice, irked by losing a wizard with great potential.

"I don't dare enter Hage during the day," Richita explained, her voice cracking under the weight of her confession. "When people are up and about, it could risk killing them. So, I snuck in late at night, thinking I could just take a peek. I didn't think it'd cause such a huge...misunderstanding"

Sebastian and Dorothy felt a twinge of guilt and embarrassment at that. Sebastian cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Looks like we all made a mistake, you did something risky...and the two of us were prejudiced." Pausing for a moment, he continued. "However, I don't think any of us should feel ashamed as our actions and reactions all stemmed from care and the desire to protect or shield something, or someone from something."

"Moreover, love and yearning are the rights of all humans, there's nothing to feel guilty for wanting to see your son."

Dorothy, snapping back into her playful spirit, echoed her father's sentiment with a light-hearted nod. "Yeah! It's okay to want to see your kid! We all want to feel connected, right?" Her innocent enthusiasm was infectious and broke the tense atmosphere.

Richita looked at them, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Gratitude shone through the layers of her sorrow, a fragile smile forming on her lips. "Thank you," she said, her voice steady yet filled with emotion.

As the woman, began to slowly stand, Sebastian regarded Richita with a curious intensity and voiced a question dancing in his mind.

"What's your last name?" he asked, his tone gentle yet insistent.

Richita blinked, momentarily taken aback. "Why do you want to know?" she replied, her brows knitting together in confusion.

Sebastian's expression softened as he explained. "I'll stop by the church and tell its priest. He can add it to Asta's name."

The words hung in the air, and Richita furrowed her brow, still unsure of his reasoning. "Why would you do that?"

"Because" Sebastian continued, "although you might not think of it, it could mean the world to Asta. Just knowing that somewhere out there, he has a place of origin, a family, a bloodline. For a boy born with nothing, raised with very little, something as simple as a full name could make all the difference."

Richita paused, her mind racing. She hadn't considered it from that perspective before. "I never thought about it that way," she admitted slowly, her gaze drifting to the ground. "But maybe it's better this way. If Asta knew he was abandoned by a living family, it could break him even more. He should just be Asta, start his life from there, and make his own family."

Sebastian shook his head, a hint of firmness creeping into his voice. "That's a decision the boy should be allowed to make for himself when he grows older. When he fully understands the significance of having a last name."

In his past life, after his parents passed away, and he and his younger sister were sent to an orphanage, he experienced firsthand the envy of some kids, for having something as simple as a first name. He never really valued it himself, until he watched some kids invest so many hours, naming themselves. It gave them a sense a belonging.

He'll never forget the way some of his fellow orphans, lit up, when the director said they can share his name. Although he never cared for it, it obviously meant the world to them.

Richita took a deep breath, her mind turning over his words. After a moment, she nodded, a sense of resolution washing over her. "My last name is Staria," she said quietly, the name slipping from her lips like a secret finally set free. [1]

Sebastian nodded in acknowledgment, feeling like he got an answer to a long-debated mystery. Too bad I don't have any Wi-Fi, those subreddits would go crazy. "What about Asta's date of birth?" he asked, keen to gather as much information as he could, and add it to the boy's portfolio.

"October 3rd, 1618," Richita replied, her voice steady but tinged with emotion.

Sebastian's heart sank momentarily as he absorbed that detail. He nodded, but internally, he was shocked. Asta had been left at the church on October 4th, meaning Richita had forced herself to stand up and travel a vast distance on foot almost immediately after giving birth. The realization struck him like a thunderbolt.

Even if this is a world of magic, where people have much more resilient and powerful physiques, for her to pull that off, was nothing short of insane. Moreover, Richita is no decent mage, her magic aside, she's probably not stronger than the average woman her age, from his world.

Richita felt an awkward wave of discomfort, seeing Sebastian study her closer, narrowing his eyes. Did I say something, wrong? Did I anger him? She was well aware of the fickle nature of many nobles, she feared that she had done something to upset him.

Richita was just about to turn around once more when Sebastian called out to her, stopping her in her tracks. "Wait," he said, his voice firm yet gentle.

To her astonishment, he tossed her a sleek device that glimmered in the moonlight. Richita fumbled to catch it, her fingers trembling as she held it up, staring in disbelief. She had never seen anything like it, let alone held one. "What is this?" she asked, bewildered.

Sebastian smiled softly, watching her reaction. "It's a magic transponder," he explained. "A communication device. You can use it to talk to someone far away."

Richita's eyes widened as she examined the gem embedded in the device, its polished surface reflecting the moon's silvery glow. The realization struck her like a wave crashing against the shore. This tiny object was worth more than everything she owned. "But... why are you giving this to me?" she asked, still struggling to comprehend the gesture.

"Because" Sebastian said, his tone earnest, "even if you may never be able to see Asta face to face, that's no reason why you can't hear each other's voices."

At his words, Richita stiffened, a tremor running through her body. She felt herself tearing up at the unexpected kindness. It was more than she could ever ask for. More than she would ever dare ask for. Up till now, everyone in her life had avoided her like the plague, well except that man. When her magic awakened at 5 years old, her parents hadn't hesitated to kick her out, only leaving her with the clothes she wore on her back.

Her uncle thought, secretly tossed her a dagger from afar, and told her about a place in the forest where there were little magic beasts, and a stream nearby with clean drinking water and fish to catch. A place she would later call home.

That was the only kindness she'd ever received in life. Yet now here, someone here was someone she never met, casually giving her a ticket back into her son's life.

Richita Staria wanted to know why.

Sebastian continued, his voice steady and reassuring. "I'll give another device connected directly to the church for Asta's use. I'll explain it to the priest so he can help facilitate your conversations. Moreover, I'll hire a painter to create monthly portraits of Asta. They'll be left at an agreed-upon location for you to pick up, so you'll always know what your son looks like and how he changes."

Tears began to flow unbidden down Richita's cheeks as the reality of his offer sank in. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me."

Sebastian nodded indifferently, inwardly deep in thought. He had given her his transponder and not asked for Dorothy's because that was the first thing he's ever given her. It might be an easily replaceable gift for someone of his wealth, but Dorothy might already have a strange sentimental attachment to it.

Although it would be easier and less work to ask Dorothy to hand her over to Orsi, since they were directly connected already, he would just have to return to the noble realm and get a new one instead, to give to the priest.

He's not so lazy to take something back from his daughter, just to avoid an additional trip. He hasn't sunk that low yet.

Breaking the silence, Richita looked at Sebastian with a mixture of confusion and gratitude. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to understand his motives.

Sebastian shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the complexities swirling in his mind. "Asta's a cute kid," he replied, his voice light but sincere. "He deserves to have a mother in his life. Even in a different form. That's what any child should have."

Richita might have been thankful, but Sebastian didn't think he'd done any worthy of gratitude. It might have been grand from her viewpoint, but to him, it was worthless. It's just a pair of transponders, he wanted a better one anyway. When he gets home, he'll have a slicker custom mage, perhaps a wearable one like a bracelet, or headphones, maybe even a chain. Anything that doesn't look like an antique microphone.

No, if Sebastian Silva was a good person he would've told Richita she didn't have to stay away from Asta, because he has no magic, no mana, to drain to begin with.

So why didn't he? Well for a bunch of small vain reasons, and one good one. I guess the biggest reason is the plot. Asta would not be Asta, and Yuno would not be Yuno if they didn't grow up together.

They are one another's deepest motivation, and rivals, that push one another to be stronger, kinder people. Richita can care for Asta, but that's it. She won't be able to enter the village and be around other people, which would in turn cause Asta to have to grow up isolated as well. So, no Yuno in his life and no sister Lily to tell him the story of the wizard king.

Richita could but it wouldn't have the same effect, because Asta growing up isolated, with a caring mother, wouldn't know what it was like to be bullied, and oppressed for his social class. Richita could tell him, but it would only be words, that wouldn't hit the same, as experiencing it firsthand.

No Asta would go through his childhood, the most impressionable years of his life, that would shape him, as a kid, who was not aware in the least of the dark reality that is the Clover Kingdom. He likely wouldn't have the same resolve to be Wizard King. And he wouldn't inspire Yuno to have that goal either.

Yuno and Asta might still make it to Kikka to become Magic Knights, but they wouldn't be the same people. Their growth would be a lot slower, which would mean that forget Lucius, we would probably tap out when faced with Lucifero, maybe even the Dark Triad.

Now what is the big reason? Well, it's Liebe, knowing the kind of people Asta and Richita are they wouldn't hesitate to add the devil to their family. Which is sweet and all, but oh so dangerous.

When Lucifero possesses Liebe, an utterly magicless and defenseless but brave Asta would try to intervene and save his brother only to join his mother as a corpse.

After that Liebe can curse this world for centuries, gaining enough Anti Magic to engulf the world, but it'd be pointless and no threat to Lucius if there was no one out there able to channel that power and use it against him. And the only other person who could is at the other end of the world.

And that's a future Sebastian is not willing to see. He can change many things in this life, and take many risks, but playing with people's lives, people that he has greatly admired is not one of them.

Asta cannot, Asta should not die unless it's of old age, surrounded by family and loved ones. Especially so miserably before even getting a chance to discover his dream and passion.

For the sake of the story he envisioned, Asta needed to grow up in Hage, enduring hardships without a loving mother. He needed to find strength within himself, surrounded by a caring but imperfect family. Living under the protective wing of a devoted mother might spoil that vital process.

For now, he'll just have to settle, for his mother's voice. For now. Sebastian narrowed his eyes, further.

Richita's situation is an affliction, not a curse, meaning that the Agrippa method to turn a curse into power, will not work here. However, her illness is very similar to a curse that plagues a certain slow-speaking, boy.

If I can guide Nathan to treat Henry, then he may have some inspiration to cure Richita. Perhaps even turning her illness into strength so when Lucifero does possess Liebe, she can handle the situation more effectively, without having to lose her life in the process and seal Liebe away to save him.

As for Anti-Magic, he'll just have to find another way to traumatize Liebe, make him curse everything, and guide him into being Asta's partner.

Sebastian rubbed his eyebrows in exhaustion. It felt like every time, he knocked something off his list, something else was added. Hire the Agrippas and Faust? Check. Now you have to support Conrad in some societal reforms. Find Dorothy Unsworth? Check. Now you'll have to explain to your family in a few hours why did you return with a fiancée for the eldest son. Get a power-up? Check. Now you have to figure out how you're going to change three fates, without messing up the future too badly, and accidentally ridding the world of the Big Bad Boss's greatest threat. Oh, and I also still have to uncurse my wife, stop some extremist loyalists from turning this timeline into an Injustice rehash, and maybe replace the reigning monarch without staging a bloody coup.

Sebastian Silva was tired. Dead tired. He literally hasn't slept a wink in over 48 hours and hasn't eaten much of anything either. One doesn't really have an appetite when your wife looks like a corpse. He was literally running on fumes and adrenaline, right now.

But many of these things were his choice. No one forced him to do it. So, he'll just have to live with the price that comes with his decisions. The plus side is, unlike the other urgent tasks, this one at least has 5 years to be addressed, so he can take it slowly. Just a bit. Sebastian didn't dare raise a flag.

"It's time for us to leave," he announced, turning to Richita with a gentle nod.

Richita nodded appreciatively, her eyes shimmering with gratitude. "Thank you, Sebastian. Thank you both," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Take care Ms. Richita, I'll come visit you sometime!" Dorothy beamed, with her typical cheerful youth, before picking up her broom once more.

Just as she was about to hop on, she felt her father's hand clamp on her shoulder. Turning to face him, she was met with his impassive gaze.

"No more magic for you young lady, till your reserves are fully replenished. Understand?" He voiced it like a question, but his tone made it clear it was a command.

Dorothy seemed to pick up on that, so all she did was pout cutely, before nodding her head.

Sebastian was satisfied, his grimoire floated before him, and he cast his spell once more. Water Creation Magic: Sea Eagle. Just like a moment ago, an eagle of water materialized in front of them, this time not falling apart shortly after manifesting.

It landed on the ground, bending its back for Dorothy and Sebastian to step on. After ensuring Dorothy was secure, they gave Richita one last wave, for the eagle soared through the night sky, its flight steady, as they headed back to the capital.

Standing on the eagle's back, Sebastian began to think, that maybe instead of portraits he should just have some magic projection tools gifted to Richita and the Church. That way the mother and son, can communicate from afar, like a Zoom call. He nodded thinking it was a good idea. But it's not something he'd personally have to do. After all, what's the point of having a loyal butler, if you won't use him?

Author's Notes:

[1] Staria is Asta's last name, from the original Black Clover one-shot. You might see it used often in fanfiction

[2] There first ever Chapter made with zero AI, whatsoever

Omake:

Studying Richita closely, there was one more question on his mind, that he was hesitant to voice.

"What is it?" Richita asked calmly, this man had given her so much, it's only right to give something in return.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying to ignore his daughter beside him, he then spoke. "How...did you become pregnant with Asta?"

Richita, looked at him in confusion, he has a daughter and a noble education, surely, he knows how reproduction works, right?

Sebastian scratched his neck awkwardly, grit his teeth, and went on. "No...I mean how did you get pregnant? I mean, your curse kills anyone in an 8-meter range right, so how were you able to "do it", with someone?"

Seeing Richita flush her cheeks, Sebastian pressed on. "Like are you of virgin birth or something? I doubt it. But otherwise, how could this work? Like was some guy so into you that he didn't care about dying and decided you know 'get busy', with you regardless. And was he so down bad, for you, that he could finish inside, in under a minute? Like cause I'm pretty sure that's the longest he could last, before dying?"

"I guess what I'm trying to say who is Asta's father? And where is he buried?"

Richita paused, her flush was broken, and her face turned black, she gave him a smile that wasn't a smile, and started walking forward. All her gratitude was lost.

"W-wait s-stay back! Ahhh-"

The Next Day:

A paper boy is seen throwing some newspapers around the kingdom, and people madly competing to get a copy.

"Extra Extra, the Clover Times! Get your copy!"

He began reading out some lines, to attract more attention.

"Sebastian Silva, Patriarch of the Silva Family, dies of mysterious origins. "

"One purple-haired, eyewitness says, Dad has a loose mouth and got what was coming to him!"

"In related news, Sebastian Silva also has a bastard love child!"

Although it wasn't how he intended, that day Sebastian Silva made a name for himself, that would go down in history.