069
“That’s right. I don’t want such risks within the family. What about you?”
In truth, Galizard was already more than satisfied with Shupetty, so Luarel’s presence or absence hardly mattered to him.
Whether real or fake, it was of no concern to him.
Thus, Galizard remained unwavering.
Even if Luarel was genuine, he would still raise her outside the family. If she was an imposter, he would squeeze her dry before discarding her.
“It’s something that can be observed over time. There’s no need to rush.”
“…Understood.”
“Do not lose your composure. We simply need to exist like the vast ocean. What does a fisherman do when he casts his net wide?”
“He enjoys the sea and takes a leisurely nap.”
This exchange was fundamental knowledge for all Pashayens.
Pashayen was the sea.
The sea was deep.
The sea was vast.
And they lived as one with it.
“We are fishermen, sailors, and seafarers—those who, in death, will return as whales.”
Galizard reiterated these principles, calming his son.
“Wait. Until they take the bait.”
Diegon, who had been silent in contemplation, slowly opened his previously shut eyes.
His deep crimson irises, now cold and still, resembled a ship sinking after striking a reef.
“There is a rather crude, yet most certain way to confirm if that child is truly Luarel. I’m sure you already know what it is.”
His voice was chillingly dry, devoid of all emotion—pure logic remained.
Since adopting Shupetty as his daughter, he had softened, playing the role of a doting father. But at his core, he was still ruthlessly calculating.
“We throw her into the sea.”
“Tsk, tsk.”
“If that child is truly Luarel, then naturally, she should be able to breathe in the sea.”
At that, Galizard clicked his tongue softly.
“You were so cautious with Shupetty, worrying that even the slightest mistake might harm her. Yet with Luarel, you’re fine with throwing her into the sea, even if it means she might die?”
“If she’s real, she won’t die. You know that.”
“Yes, you’re right.”
To be honest, Galizard had considered this from the very beginning.
Just take the child, toss her into the sea—if she suffocate and die, she’s fake. If she survive, then she’s truly of his bloodline.
It was that simple.
The reason he hadn’t voiced this idea wasn’t because of some sentimental hesitation.
It wasn’t that he found the thought too cruel to put into words.
It was simply because he considered them too valuable a piece to be used up so easily.
“My son.”
“Yes.”
“Parents have an innate sense about their children. No matter how young they were when lost, a parent’s heart recognizes their child first. That’s why I believe this Luarel—whether human, homunculus, or whatever they may be—is a lie. Your reaction proves it.”
How could a parent not recognize their own child?
No matter how much time passed, if one were to reunite with a lost family member, the heart would know before the mind.
Blood would rush, tears would well up, the heartbeat would race, and breathing would falter.
That’s emotion.
Though he did not understand it, Galizard never denied the existence of emotions altogether.
Not everything in this world operated purely on logic.
Thus, the very fact that they had to calculate so much about ‘Luarel’ was proof that the child was a fake—at least, that was Galizard’s conclusion.
“I don’t even care what the people behind this scheme are hoping to achieve. In the end, their goal is the same—they’re after Pashayen.”
“…..…”
“But still, isn’t it infuriating?”
Galizard impatiently tapped his fingers against the table.
His thick, sturdy fingers carried traces of restrained anger.
When they lost Luarel, he had always assumed that, at some point in life, someone would show up claiming to be them.
But for the mastermind to be the head of the Velarion family?
This wasn’t just a simple deception—it was a battle of pride between two great houses.
“Tsk. Since we’re at it, I should take this opportunity to clean up the family ranks. For now, treat that child as Luarel. Give her more privileges than the others, and hand over whatever she desire.”
“Father.”
“A person’s desires reveal their true self.”
There was no room for argument.
Seeing his father’s resolute expression, Diegon ultimately gave up on pressing further.
As a member of the family, his duty was to follow the patriarch’s decision.
And truthfully, even he could see that this was the right approach.
On the surface, ‘Luarel’ seemed like an incredibly timid child, overwhelmed by the sudden appearance of a family she had never known.
But… was that truly real?
The best way to find out was to give her everything she wanted.
“You will personally empower Luarel. Let’s see which fools attach themselves to her.”
“Understood.”
“As for the test to see if she can breathe underwater, we’ll postpone it for now. I’ll signal you when the time is right, so don’t act on your own before then.”
Diegon nodded, and Galizard turned his attention back to his papers.
A silent indication that the conversation was over.
Just as Diegon reached for the door handle, Galizard spoke again, addressing his son’s back.
“Oh, and one more thing—the Ancient Language tutor and the Spirit Studies tutor will arrive tomorrow. Keep that in mind.”
Without a word, Diegon gave a small nod before leaving.
“Well, that takes care of him.”
Now alone, Galizard quickly skimmed through his documents and began stamping approvals.
There were still people he had to meet after finishing these tasks.
“Hah, even at this age, I’m this busy.”
As he muttered complaints to himself—
Knock, knock.
A soft, light knocking sound, like a bird skipping across the water, reached his ears.
“Enter.”
“Father, you called for us?”
“Yes. Where is Leviwood?”
“He’s here with me.”
The door slid open to reveal Violet, her hair elegantly tied up.
Behind her followed Leviwood, dressed neatly in a crisp white shirt, vest, and jacket, buttoned all the way to the collar.
Without even looking at them, Galizard pulled out the last of his documents and spoke an unexpected statement.
“I have deliberately discriminated against one child my entire life. Leviwood, why do you think that is?”
“To create a weakness.”
Whether it was a requirement for a family head to be skilled at posing sudden questions, or whether only those with such a skill could become a family head, was uncertain.
But Leviwood did not hesitate in his answer.
“Explain in detail.”
“By deliberately neglecting one child, you create an apparent weak spot, drawing the enemy’s attacks to that point. It’s the net that Grandfather, the head of Pashayen, has cast.”
“Correct.”
Now that he had confirmed what he needed to, Galizard handed a thick stack of approved documents to Violet.
Leviwood, as always, maintained his polite posture and remained silent.
“Then, Leviwood, what must you do now?”
“I must observe my mother and father more closely.”
“Good. I’m glad you understand clearly. You may leave.”
To an ordinary person, half of this conversation would have been incomprehensible.
But its meaning was clear.
Galizard had deliberately shown favoritism against Cecilia Pashayen—so blatantly that even other noble families were aware of it.
He wanted to ensure that one day, Cecilia would hold deep resentment and attempt to overturn the family from within.
In other words, he had intentionally created a ‘gap’ for enemies to exploit.
And the three people in this room were aware of that fact.
That was why Cecilia had spent her entire life craving love yet never receiving it.
Unbeknownst even to himself, Galizard had assigned his own daughter a hidden role within the family.
And now, he had reached his conclusion.
If the Eclipse Velarion had gone so far as to send ‘Luarel,’ then surely, they had also reached out to Cecilia.
Which meant keeping watch over them fell naturally to Leviwood.
***
“Mother, are you all right?”
“Ah, my son!”
Thick curtains blocked out every sliver of light.
Inside the room was a bedroom in utter disarray.
Leviwood stepped over a broken vase and approached his mother.
Drunk and unstable, Cecilia let out an animalistic wail the moment she saw Leviwood, gripping his arm tightly.
“You won’t abandon me, will you? Right, my son?”
“Are you distressed about going to the battlefield?”
“That wretched Violet! That vile girl… I’m so scared she’ll ruin you. I’m terrified… terrified…”
Cecilia shouted in anguish before suddenly collapsing into sleep.
“No need to even pretend to be the devoted son.”
Leviwood gently lifted his mother and laid her on the bed.
Then, straightening his back, he took a slow look around the unnaturally dark room.
Now, it was time to start searching.
