Reborn As Papa Silva

Chapter 10: Hage (2)

On top of the massive, weathered skull of a long-fallen demon, Conrad and Sebastian stood locked in tense silence, their gazes boring into one another like opposing forces of nature. Above them, Secre—an ancient human in the form of a small blackbird—perched on the shoulder of Lemiel's statue, her eyes half-lidded and indifferent, observing the scene with a sort of casual detachment. The wind rustled through her feathers, but she remained still as if this confrontation was beneath her concern.

Conrad's brow furrowed slightly as he studied Sebastian, his expression unreadable. The two men, though separated by only a few feet, seemed worlds apart. The air between them was heavy, as though charged with unspoken history.

The silence was finally broken by Conrad, who let a soft smile curve his lips. His voice, though low, carried easily through the quiet, his tone warm yet edged with a certain sharpness. "I can barely recognize you, Sebastian. That cloak... it's quite the getup."

Beneath the shadow of his hood, Sebastian's lips twisted in a subtle grimace, though he kept his features schooled. He wasn't supposed to recognize me at all, he inwardly muttered, keeping his cool despite the slip in his carefully laid disguise. His hand briefly twitched at his side, but he quickly stilled it, standing straighter.

As if reading his thoughts, Conrad chuckled, a sound that was somehow both amused and knowing. "I have a very good memory, you know. Magic, mana... your presence. It's unforgettable, considering how many times we've butted heads in the royal courts. Especially when you tried to stop my reforms."

Sebastian's sharp eyes narrowed, but he didn't respond. He could hardly deny it. Their clashes in the courts were legendary, fierce debates echoing in the halls of the palace as they vied for influence—Sebastian on behalf of tradition and Conrad, ever the reformist, on behalf of change.

Suddenly, cryptic runes flickered across Conrad's irises like a flash of digital code, subtle but unmistakable. His gaze sharpened as he fixed his attention fully on Sebastian, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with something more serious. "So," Conrad began slowly, his voice hardening, "what are you doing here?"

Sebastian felt his heart rate quicken, though outwardly he remained calm. He cleared his throat softly, straightening his back and adopting his usual dignified posture, one honed through years of royal decorum. His response came smooth, regal, and indifferent, as though they were discussing nothing more than the weather. "I'm just on a walk."

A lie. But a necessary one.

In any other circumstance, such a blatant falsehood spoken to the Wizard King would have been grounds for treason. But Sebastian was no ordinary noble. As the patriarch of the esteemed Silva family and an elder to Conrad by a few years, he had the rare privilege of speaking to the Wizard King with an ease that most could not afford. The rules bent for someone like him, just enough to allow such casual dismissals.

Conrad only chuckled again, the tension softening, as if amused by the predictable game they were playing. Despite holding the arguably highest title in the Clover Kingdom, Conrad had never been able to escape the condescension of the royals. To them, he was still the failed noble-turned-Wizard King, a fluke, an outsider. Sebastian, with his noble blood and long lineage, represented that exact class. As long as he wasn't overtly rude, Conrad didn't mind. He had dealt with worse.

With a small gesture, Conrad motioned toward Sebastian's dark, hooded cloak. "Quite a walk, then. All across the kingdom, I'd imagine. But tell me," his voice took on a bemused tone, "why the disguise? Not exactly the sort of attire you'd wear for a casual stroll."

Sebastian didn't miss a beat, his lies flowing as naturally as the air he breathed. "The Silva name, the hair, the wardrobe," he began, his voice smooth and untroubled, "they attract too much attention. It's more enjoyable this way—low profile, no fanfare."

From her perch on Lemiel's shoulder, Secre let out a soft, almost mocking chirp. A subtle sound, but one that cut through the conversation like a blade. Sebastian stiffened slightly but kept his face impassive, pretending not to hear it. The bird's sarcastic chirp had all but screamed liar, and he was doing everything in his power to keep from reacting. He couldn't let himself betray his knowledge of Secre's true identity—that she was more than just a bird.

Conrad, of course, didn't miss the exchange. He chuckled again, but this time it was quieter, almost to himself. With a shake of his head, he stepped past Sebastian, his heavy cloak swaying as he moved to the edge of the demon's skull. He lowered himself to sit beside the grand statue of Lemiel, his gaze wandering out toward the horizon.

Sebastian watched him for a moment, taking in the man who had so effortlessly taken the Wizard King's mantle, who had fought for change even in the face of constant opposition. The soft wind whistled through the empty eye sockets of the demon skull beneath their feet, a haunting reminder of battles long past, battles yet to come.

Sebastian broke the silence that had fallen between them, his voice sharp but casual. "And what are you doing here, Conrad?" His words hung in the air, an unspoken challenge underlying them. Sebastian was always probing, always looking for a deeper reason behind Conrad's actions. They weren't just two people standing on a demon skull for no reason, after all.

Conrad turned his head slightly, his gaze distant as he stared at the horizon. The rolling hills of the forsaken realm stretched out before them, a landscape barren yet peaceful in its solitude. "Ever since I was a child," Conrad began, his tone soft but steady, "I've come here. Back then, I was... different. My magical attribute, my lack of control—it made me an outcast. I didn't belong, not in the palace, not even in the kingdom's borders. So, I would come here. To the forsaken realm. To Hage."

Sebastian's eyes narrowed, listening carefully but maintaining his impassive expression. Conrad's words weren't new to him, but hearing them aloud, in this place, carried a weight that was hard to ignore.

Conrad gestured vaguely toward the statue of Lemiel, the First Wizard King, whose stone form loomed behind them. "I would sit here," he continued, "and look out at the horizon, clearing my mind. Sitting beside the First Wizard King's statue always gave me courage. Lemiel is the man I admire most. He was the one who first envisioned a kingdom where all people—no matter their magic or their status—could live in harmony."

Secre, perched on Lemiel's shoulder, tilted her head ever so slightly, a subtle nod of approval. Her sharp eyes glinted in the fading sunlight, but she remained silent, watching the scene unfold like a detached observer.

Sebastian inwardly grumbled. Of course. This lines up perfectly with the backstory I know of Conrad. He had heard the tales a thousand times—how Conrad rose from nothing, overcoming the odds to become Wizard King. And yet, standing here, hearing it from the man himself, there was something undeniably genuine in the way Conrad spoke. It irritated Sebastian in a way he couldn't quite define.

But he pushed that aside. There was something more going on here. Conrad wouldn't have come out here, openly wearing his identity as Wizard King, without a reason—especially not today. Sebastian's eyes flicked toward him, sharp and calculating. "There has to be a bigger reason you're here," he said, his voice even. "It's the day of the Grimoire Acceptance Ceremony, after all. And you're hardly in disguise."

Conrad chuckled softly, glancing back over his shoulder at Sebastian with a light smile. The wind ruffled his cloak as he turned, his face illuminated by the fading sunlight. "You're sharp, as always," he said with a nod. His smile grew as he let out a small sigh. "Well, I suppose it's no secret. In about nine months, I'm going to be a father."

Sebastian blinked, momentarily caught off guard. A father? Didn't Alfred mention something like that? Conrad went on, his smile softening as he spoke, "I won't be able to walk around as much once the baby's here. Between my duties as Wizard King and becoming a father, my life's about to become... a bit more complicated. So I wanted to take one last chance to come out here, to check on the future generation."

Sebastian nodded, his usually cold demeanor softening just slightly as he processed the news. "Congratulations," he said, his voice even but sincere. "In advance."

Conrad's eyebrows lifted in surprise. For a brief moment, he studied Sebastian, sensing something genuine in his words, something different from the usual cold detachment the royal nobles gave him. It wasn't like the false smiles and empty congratulations he'd grown accustomed to from those who tried to cozy up to his title. No, despite Sebastian's icy exterior, there was something honest about his words.

Conrad's smile grew, this time more genuine. "Thank you," he said, his tone warm. "That... means a lot."

For a moment, the weight of their roles, their statuses, and the history between them faded away.

Sebastian decided to steer the conversation in a more pointed direction, curious to glean information about Lovilia's condition without raising suspicion. "So," he asked casually, keeping his voice light, "is your wife staying grounded at home? I imagine things must be... different for her now."

Conrad chuckled, a sound filled with affection and exasperation all at once. He rubbed the back of his neck, his smile sheepish. "Lovilia? Staying grounded?" he shook his head. "Not a chance. She's a bit... wild, you could say. Extreme, even. No matter how much I ask her to rest, she refuses to stop her duties as a Magic Knight."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at that, though he kept his expression neutral. He wasn't surprised—Lovilia had always been one to push the boundaries, never one to be restrained by titles or responsibilities.

Conrad continued with a sigh, though his tone remained affectionate. "We made a compromise. She agreed to go on one more mission. After that, she'll move into the palace with me and stay until she gives birth." He paused for a moment, glancing at the horizon before adding, "That's partly why I'm out here today—scouting for promising mages. I need someone who can eventually succeed Lovilia as the captain of the White Snake. So she can finally retire and focus on motherhood."

Sebastian's mind immediately began to churn. This is the mission, he thought, eyes narrowing imperceptibly. The one where Lovilia and the White Snake squad will die. His knowledge of the future, from the light novel and the movie, surged to the forefront of his mind. This is when Conrad begins to fall apart. He'll lose them and spiral into despair, and in five years, he'll try to destroy the Clover Kingdom.

The weight of that realization pressed heavily on Sebastian's chest, but he resisted the temptation to ask for details about the mission. Conrad might be kind, but he wasn't a fool. No one rose to the rank of Wizard King by being naive. If Sebastian pushed too hard, and asked too many questions, it could raise suspicions. And even though they were speaking casually now, even though he wasn't representing the Royal Court at the moment, asking for information about a Magic Knight squad's mission—especially directly to the Wizard King—could be seen as a grave offense. A dangerous taboo.

Besides, Sebastian wasn't a Magic Knight. Any inquiries he made about such sensitive topics would be out of place, and if something went wrong, if the royalist factions he knew were plotting succeeded in wiping out the White Snake, it would make him a prime suspect. Even with his status, he could easily be implicated.

No, asking directly wasn't an option. I have a week at most, Sebastian calculated grimly. A week to find those bastards and put an end to their scheme. His mind raced as he decided that the best course of action was to inform Alfred to make task three—their plan to thwart the royalist conspiracy—a top priority. He needed to act quickly if he wanted to save Lovilia and the White Snake squad from their grim fate.

For a brief, dangerous moment, Sebastian was tempted to tell Conrad right then and there. To warn him that people were targeting his wife and her squad. His tongue nearly moved before he restrained himself, forcing the words back down. He knew better.

In the stories he had read and the movie he had seen, it wasn't just the loss of Lovilia and the White Snake that broke Conrad—it was learning that they had died at the hands of Clover Kingdom citizens. That betrayal had shattered him and made him feel like his entire life had been a lie. The kingdom he had fought so hard to protect had proven itself cruel and rotten, filled with selfish individuals willing to kill for petty reasons. It was that realization, more than anything, that drove him to the brink of madness, convincing him that the kingdom needed to be destroyed and rebuilt from its ashes, into a nation of true equality.

Sebastian clenched his fist beneath his cloak. He couldn't let that happen. Conrad couldn't ever find out that his wife and squad were targeted by their own people. If he did, it would set off the chain of events that led to the kingdom's destruction.

For now, Sebastian kept his silence, nodding as Conrad spoke, feigning casual interest. "That makes sense," he said evenly. "Finding a successor for the White Snake is a wise move. And... congratulations again on the baby. Lovilia is lucky to have a husband like you."

Conrad smiled warmly, his expression softening even further. "Thank you, Sebastian. That means a lot coming from you."

Sebastian returned the smile with practiced ease, but inwardly, his thoughts were racing. He had work to do, and time was running out.

Conrad cleared his throat, his usual confident demeanor faltering for a moment. A short frown crossed his face as he glanced at Sebastian, his lips twitching like he was struggling with whether or not to speak. The hesitation in his eyes was obvious, and Sebastian, ever perceptive, let out an exasperated sigh."

Just say it, Conrad," Sebastian said flatly, his patience already running thin. He knew that look—the kind that meant something unpleasant was about to come up.

Conrad hesitated for another second before speaking, his tone careful yet firm. "Look, Sebastian, I know it's normal for nobles and royals to... well, have their affairs. Mistresses and all. But right now?" He paused, searching Sebastian's face. "I mean, with your wife on her deathbed, it's a bit much. You sneaking around like this..."

Sebastian froze, his entire body stiffening like a coiled spring. His mind raced as the realization hit him: Conrad thought he was having an affair. His eyes narrowed, and his expression turned from one of mild irritation to something much darker. So that's why Conrad thinks I'm hiding my identity. He thinks I snuck out of the Silva estate for some sordid tryst.

The Silvas were infamous for their pride and pomp, always flaunting their name, their hair, and their status. To hide under a cloak, to go incognito—especially someone of Sebastian's stature—was practically unheard of. Of course, Conrad would assume the worst, especially given the timing.

Sebastian's face turned black with fury. He stepped toward Conrad, his voice low and dangerous. "Do you have a death wish?"

Conrad's eyes widened, the casual arrogance of a few moments ago vanishing in an instant. He had clearly misjudged the situation. The indignation radiating from Sebastian was raw, palpable, and unmistakably genuine. This wasn't the response of someone who had been caught red-handed in a scandal; this was the reaction of someone who had just been deeply insulted.

Sebastian's fury wasn't just a mask of anger—it was real, his eyes blazing with cold wrath. Conrad swallowed hard, realizing just how badly he had misstepped. He opened his mouth to speak, his voice hurried and apologetic. "I—I'm sorry, Sebastian. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything like that. I spoke out of turn."

For a moment, there was nothing but tense silence between them. Sebastian's glare was enough to freeze the air around them. Then, after a long pause, Sebastian snorted derisively, his face still twisted in annoyance. "Tch," he muttered, clearly still offended. But he finally waved a hand, his anger slowly subsiding, though the indignation remained. "Fine. Apology accepted. Just... drop the damn topic."

Conrad nodded quickly, a wave of relief flooding through him. He realized he had narrowly sidestepped a confrontation that could have left him seriously damaged. While Sebastian posed no physical threat in a fistfight, he had a thousand and one ways to complicate Conrad's life as Wizard King and hinder his dreams. Sebastian was not a man to be taken lightly—especially when it came to matters concerning House Silva or his own honor.

Meanwhile, Secre, still perched on Lemiel's statue, had been watching the whole exchange with evident amusement. Her sharp eyes gleamed with smug indifference as she observed the tension between the two men. A soft, almost mocking chirp escaped her, her feathery body puffing up just slightly, as though she found the entire situation to be highly entertaining. If birds could smirk, Secre surely would be right now.

Sebastian shot a glance toward her but quickly looked away, ignoring the obvious amusement radiating from the bird's posture. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of knowing how annoyed he really was.

An awkward silence stretched between them, thick and uncomfortable. Conrad cleared his throat once more, unable to let the matter rest. "So," he began, his voice hesitant but resolute, "why are you really here?"

Sebastian sighed inwardly, knowing full well that Conrad wouldn't be satisfied with vague answers anymore. Of course, he wouldn't. Conrad was the Wizard King, after all, and someone like Sebastian—a royal who seldom left the noble realm—sneaking around such a sensitive area would raise eyebrows. Conrad's duty was to protect the kingdom, and no matter their history or his status, Sebastian's presence here could be perceived as a threat. Conrad could be thinking anything right now. Maybe Sebastian was meeting spies from the Diamond Kingdom. Maybe he was involved in something darker—slavery, espionage, or worse. Suspicion was inevitable in their world, especially when royals ventured into places they had no business being.

Realizing that a roundabout answer would only deepen Conrad's doubts, Sebastian decided to craft a carefully tailored white lie."

Although I'm not here to cheat on Acier," Sebastian said slowly, his voice cold and measured, "it does have something to do with her."

Conrad's brow arched in curiosity. "Oh?" His tone softened, but his eyes sharpened. "What does Acier have to do with this?"

Sebastian paused, gathering his thoughts, then spoke in his usual indifferent manner. "I'm here for a purpose similar to yours."

Conrad's expression shifted, confusion flickering in his eyes. "What does scouting have to do with the Steel Princess?"

Sebastian kept his gaze steady, his face as unreadable as ever. "With Acier slated to die soon, House Silva and the Silver Eagles will lose their main pillar. I'm looking for talent that can eventually replace her, or at least fill the gap she'll leave behind."

A shadow passed over Conrad's face at the bluntness of Sebastian's words. He frowned but didn't interrupt. "But you have Nozel," Conrad offered cautiously, clearly trying to find some light in the dark revelation.

Sebastian nodded, his expression unchanging. "One boy isn't enough to replace the Dancing Princess of the Battlefield," he said, his voice as cold as ever.

Conrad shifted slightly, considering the weight of those words. "You have three other children, though," he remarked, his tone almost hopeful. "Surely—"

But Sebastian shook his head before he could finish. "Nebra and Solid have average talents, nothing special. As for Noelle..." His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "It's too early to say. I'll need more than hope."

Conrad took in Sebastian's words, nodding slowly in realization, but the frown on his face only deepened. He understood now why Sebastian was here, but the casual, almost dismissive way Sebastian spoke of Acier's impending death unsettled him. The way he talked about his wife as if she were already gone as if her life was just another calculation in the grand scheme of power and succession—it was cold, even by noble standards.

For a long moment, Conrad said nothing, just staring at Sebastian with a mixture of understanding and unease. He had always known that Sebastian was pragmatic to the point of ruthlessness, but hearing him talk about Acier like this, like her death was nothing more than a stepping stone for the Silva family's future... it weighed heavily on him.

Sebastian, for his part, stood unflinchingly, waiting for Conrad's response, though he felt no need to explain himself further. This is the reality I'll present to them, he thought. Acier is dying, and nothing will change that. My focus now is on the future, on ensuring the Silva legacy continues to thrive. Sentimentality won't keep the kingdom safe, nor will it stop the power struggles that come with weakness.

Conrad finally spoke, his voice softer than before. "I understand your concerns, Sebastian. But still... the way you speak about Acier's death." He shook his head slightly. "It's hard to hear, even from you."

Sebastian said nothing, merely nodding once, acknowledging Conrad's discomfort but refusing to indulge it.

Conrad's voice softened, his gaze distant as he spoke. "You and Acier... like so many other nobles and royals. You didn't marry for love. Just to propagate, to sire strong children, extend the family line." There was no accusation in his tone, only a quiet observation like he was commenting on the inevitable realities of their world.

Sebastian didn't flinch, nor did he deny it. Instead, he shrugged, his expression indifferent. "Not every noble is as lucky as you, Conrad," he said coolly. "You got to marry for love. And with a peasant, no less." There was a hint of irony in his voice as if he found Conrad's situation unique but far from enviable.

Conrad shook his head, his lips curling into a wry smile as he looked away, his thoughts clearly drifting to the past. "I was noble in name only," he murmured, the words carrying a weight of old wounds. "I grew up ostracized by the entire noble circle. Even my own House looked at me like I was some petty thief, not one of them. My magical attribute—" He trailed off for a second, his smile faltering as memories flickered in his eyes. "They never let their guard down around me. Treated me like a stranger in my own home."

There was a pause before his face brightened slightly with a softer, more genuine smile. "Julius and Lovilia were the first to give me a chance," he said, his voice warm with affection. The fondness in his eyes was unmistakable, even as he chuckled with self-deprecating humor. "And now? Now my House is like every other noble house out there. They can't wait to cozy up to me, acting like nothing ever happened. Like the past is history."

Sebastian, arms crossed and posture relaxed, shrugged once again. "That's the life of royals and nobles." His voice was cold, impassive. "They discriminate against peasants and commoners, but they reserve their sharpest blades for each other. The expectations are higher for us. More unrealistic. Do you want to survive the lion's cage that is the aristocracy? You have to prove your worth constantly. Show them you deserve your place."

He paused, his eyes darkening with the weight of his words. "Late bloomers like you, Conrad, always face the same fate. At least you managed to rise above it." His tone was indifferent, almost as if he were stating a fact rather than complimenting Conrad. "Many nobles weren't so lucky. They couldn't handle the pressure. Some were driven to madness. Some..." His voice trailed off, and for a brief moment, a shadow crossed Sebastian's expression.

He didn't say it aloud, but his thoughts wandered to his own past, to his parents in this life—two figures trapped in the suffocating grip of noble expectations. Their failures. Their demise. His chest tightened slightly, though he masked it well, keeping his gaze on Conrad as if the memories had never crossed his mind.

Conrad let out a hollow laugh, the sound devoid of joy but tinged with bitter acceptance. "I suppose you're right," he said quietly. Turning his back to Sebastian, he looked out to the horizon, the sky tinged with fading light. There was something distant in his eyes, as though he was searching for something beyond the landscape, perhaps something lost long ago.

The silence between them was thick but not uncomfortable. They both knew what the other had endured—different paths, but the same cruel world of nobility that demanded too much and gave too little.

Conrad patted the stone seat next to him, gesturing for Sebastian to join him. "Come, sit."Sebastian suppressed a sigh, already feeling the weight of the request. Being ordered around by a greenhorn—Wizard King or not. The thought grated on him, but still, he silently moved to Conrad's left, taking a seat about two meters away. His cloak settled around him as he sat, the distance maintaining the professional barrier that still lingered between them.

Conrad, seemingly oblivious to Sebastian's internal discontent, gazed out over the vast horizon. The distant fields, bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, stretched far and wide beyond Hage village. A warm breeze passed by, rustling the trees below the great demon skull they sat upon. "It's beautiful," Conrad remarked, his voice tinged with a quiet reverence for the scene before them.

Sebastian, his gaze following Conrad's, let out a soft, almost imperceptible murmur of agreement. "It is." For a brief moment, his hard exterior softened, just enough for the smallest bit of genuine feeling to slip through.

Conrad, still looking out at the view, smiled to himself. There it is. He thought silently, feeling a sense of warmth in the rare moment of calm. This is Sebastian's true self. Not the merciless wolf of the royal courts. No, this was a man who could, when allowed to, appreciate the world beyond the endless power struggles and noble obligations."

Just like the Noble Realm," Conrad said after a pause, "the common and forsaken realms have their own beauty and charm." His voice was filled with conviction. "And just like us, the royals and nobles, the commoners and peasants have equal worth. They should have the same opportunities to thrive. To laugh. To live together in peace." He glanced sideways at Sebastian, hoping to find some semblance of agreement, some spark of understanding. "That's the kingdom we should be building. A place of equality, where everyone can get along."

High above, perched atop Lemiel's statue, Secre watched Conrad with sharp, knowing eyes. She nodded ever so slightly in approval, her avian form still and thoughtful. He really is like Lemiel, she thought. The most like him out of any Wizard King until now. There was something about Conrad's vision of unity, of harmony, that echoed the ideals of the First Wizard King. Secre could see it. Feel it.

But beside Conrad, Sebastian furrowed his brows, his gaze narrowing. His earlier softness evaporated, replaced by the cold, pragmatic man everyone knew him to be. "You're naive, Conrad," he said, his voice cutting through the peace like a blade.

Conrad turned to face him, surprised but not entirely shocked by the rebuke. He had expected it. Sebastian wasn't one to share in idealism."

Naive?" Conrad questioned softly, not defensive but curious.

Sebastian's eyes hardened. "Thinking that everyone can just 'get along.' That peasants, commoners, and nobles will ever be equal in anything other than your fantasies." His tone grew more pointed. "You say these things as if the centuries of aristocratic rule can just be undone because you want it to be. But the truth is, Conrad, power isn't distributed equally. It never has been, and it never will be. You can't wish that away."

Conrad looked off to the side, waiting patiently but expectantly for an explanation. His eyes demanded answers.

Sebastian sighed, already feeling the weight of the conversation before it even started. "It's impossible for complete equality ever to be reached," he stated flatly.

"Why?" Conrad's voice was firm, refusing to let the conversation drop.

Sebastian leaned back, his eyes narrowed in thought. "Because humans are never satisfied with just surviving," he began. "They want to thrive. And the only way they can validate that is by proving they're superior to others. People often put others down just to feel better about themselves."

Conrad clenched his fists. "But there's a better way!" he insisted. "Royals and nobles can channel those feelings into building a productive society, showing their strength in ways that help everyone."

Sebastian shook his head slowly. "It's not just the upper class. Commoners and peasants do the same thing. They fight, steal, and cheat each other—just like royals and nobles manipulate laws and taxes for their own gain. Commoners might use physical force, but it's no different in essence."

Conrad gritted his teeth, frustrated but unable to deny the truth. He waited for Sebastian to continue.

"It's easy for those with nothing to call for equality," Sebastian said coolly. "But asking nobles and royals to give up their status? To step off their pedestals and treat peasants as equals? It's unrealistic. The gap between them is too wide."

Conrad's gaze hardened. "So, what then? Just give up?"

Sebastian shook his head. "No. But you need to understand—it's a long road. This isn't a dream you'll achieve overnight. It'll take generations. Decades of slow reform."

He paused, turning to look at the vast horizon. His tone darkened as he continued, "Everything Lemiel built collapsed after he died. The Clover Kingdom has swung between progress and regress for centuries. There were a few Wizard Kings who made strides, but their cruelty or heavy-handedness led to their downfall. Nobles, losing their power, took revenge on the peasants, making things worse."

Sebastian's voice grew quieter. "You could force change with your strength, but it would only be temporary. The aristocrats will revolt. Civil war will follow. And the bloodshed will undo everything."

From above, Secre narrowed her eyes in distaste as she listened to the conversation. Yet, she gave a reluctant nod of acknowledgment. He's not wrong, she thought grimly. Neither man noticed her silent judgment as they both fell into a long, heavy silence.

Eventually, Conrad spoke. "I don't think you've made your point yet."

Sebastian nodded as if preparing himself to finally say what was on his mind. He stretched his arms out behind him, gripping the edge of the demon skull they sat upon. His legs dangled over the side as he gazed out over the landscape. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, and patient.

"True reform can only happen willingly. Slowly. Peacefully. Conrad, you have to accept the fact that you might never see Lemiel's dream realized in your lifetime. You might see little to no change at all. Even if you manage to change the idea that magic is everything, nobles and royals will just find something else to brag about—their wealth, their lineage, their ancestors. Whatever gives them a sense of superiority."

Conrad's expression remained serious, unwavering. "I've long come to terms with that," he replied softly. "But that's not a reason for me to give up. I'll keep trying. I believe the Clover Kingdom can one day embody what the leaves of the Clover stand for—a place of faith, hope, love, and good luck for everyone."

Sebastian watched him carefully, a flicker of admiration crossing his mind. Conrad really is different, he thought. A man of many colors. He deserves to be Wizard King for much longer.

At that moment, Sebastian silently renewed his internal resolve. He would do everything he could to keep Julius off the throne and support Conrad from the shadows. Never let him fall into the darkness, not like others who have lost their families.

A dark thought crossed his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder. Could Lucius be behind this? Could he have orchestrated Conrad's downfall all those years ago?

Sebastian shook his head, brushing the thought aside. It wasn't the time for such suspicions. He turned back to Conrad and said with a faint smile, "I look forward to seeing that future, Conrad."

Conrad was silent for a moment before letting out a gruff laugh.

Sebastian raised a brow. "What's so funny?"

Conrad chuckled, shaking his head. "I never pegged you as such a sentimental person. I might need to reevaluate my opinion of you."

Sebastian clicked his tongue in displeasure. "Tsk."

Conrad took a moment to calm himself, a thoughtful expression settling on his face as he turned to Sebastian. "What should I start doing to make a difference?" he asked earnestly.

Sebastian's gaze was steady as he replied, "If we can't change the royals and nobles, then we can change the peasants and commoners."

"What do you mean by that?" Conrad asked, curiosity piqued.

Sebastian leaned in, his tone serious. "We can invest in higher quality facilities and institutions in the common and forsaken realms. Ensure everyone gets an education and a chance to attend a magic school. That way, peasants and commoners can become stronger and more competent, forcing nobles and royals to take them seriously."

Conrad considered this, nodding slowly. "That's a nice idea, but it costs a lot of money. To approve such a huge project, I'll need at least the support of two of the three royal houses."

His brow furrowed as he continued, "I'm not worried about House Vermillion, but House Kira and House Silva... They've always been the biggest barriers in my way to secure support. Especially since House Silva has reverted to its classist ways since you took over as patriarch."

Sebastian frowned in displeasure. "Well, naturally, since I came up with this idea, you'll have my support and House Silva's as well."

Conrad's face brightened with a smile. "Thank you! But are you sure? This will still cost a lot of money."

Sebastian shrugged, his tone indifferent. "House Silva could easily fund such a project by themselves. I'm confident that you won't have to invest much of your own; the nobles will fight amongst themselves over who gets to donate more."

Conrad's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Why's that?"

Sebastian's smile turned knowing. "You didn't receive a proper noble education, did you? Because of your ostracization, you're lacking in understanding noble customs and behaviors."

Conrad opened his mouth to protest, but Sebastian continued, undeterred. "Nobles only pursue profit. Once they realize they can invest in talent and various industries—carpentry, blacksmithing, farming, clothing—they'll fight over who pays more to secure a bigger share in the loyalty of the kingdom's future. Even House Kira will feel threatened and invest a sizable amount to improve the King's reputation and secure the support of the commoners and peasants."

Sebastian added, "And even if some nobles are too daft to recognize their potential profits, they'd donate just for the sake of face. Nobles fear rumors and mockery; being labeled as cheap is synonymous with being called poor. There's nothing they're more insecure about than their wealth."

Conrad let out a sigh of realization, shaking his head with a bemused smile. "Sebastian, you're very conniving."

Sebastian shook his head, a slight smirk on his lips. "Anyone can realize this, Conrad. It just takes a bit of insight."

Conrad glanced at the sky and suddenly realized it was time for the grimoire acceptance ceremony. "Should we go together?" he asked, eager to join the event.

Sebastian gestured to his attire, which was anything but discreet. "Not if you're going to look like this. I want to keep a low profile."

Conrad chuckled, a playful glint in his eye. With a small puff of smoke, he transformed into a middle-aged man clad in commoner rags, his appearance now utterly unremarkable.

Sebastian sighed, a hint of envy creeping into his voice. "I should really learn some transformation magic; it would make things so much more convenient moving forward."

The two of them exchanged nods with Secre, who was perched on Lemiel's statue's shoulder, before disembarking from the demon head.

As they walked through the forest, Sebastian turned to Conrad, a serious note in his voice. "I don't care who you recruit, but if you see a purple-haired girl with a witch hat, just know she's off-limits."

Conrad laughed, his mood lightening. "Alright, I got it," he replied, as they continued on their way to the grimoire tower, disappearing into the trees.

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