Episode 7
But maybe they weren’t sure if I had actually overheard their conversation, because the maids started making excuses.
“We were just saying there’s been no word from Lord Sylvan yet and that the young lady must be worried!”
“Yes! We were careless to even mention his name. You must be upset…”
I nearly laughed in disbelief.
Just how foolish did they think I was, that they could lie to my face so easily?
Then again, I had no one to blame but my past self for being treated this way.
Even when I only got to see my father once every six months, I used to stay quiet, afraid of causing him trouble. I’d silently endure any unfair treatment, too anxious to speak up.
And being young, I hadn’t fully realized the staff were subtly ignoring and looking down on me.
But now—that’s no longer the case.
“You said you didn’t know who my mother is.”
“You said I probably wasn’t even his real daughter.”
“W-what…?”
“What, you thought whispering would make me not hear you? Because I’m a late-blooming idiot?”
The maids instantly turned pale.
They seemed to finally realize that the little girl standing in front of them was a descendant of a powerful dark mage bloodline.
They must’ve forgotten the ironclad rule: never carelessly speak in front of a dark mage with heightened senses.
They must’ve thought they could get away with it because I was just a “nobody.”
“Well? Hurry up and repeat what you said. Word for word. I’ll judge how accurate you are.”
I glared coldly at them, my voice carrying the weight of all the resentment I’d swallowed for years.
I expected them to grovel immediately.
But instead, they exchanged glances—then suddenly shouted:
“You must be mistaken!”
“Yes, young lady! You were just stressed and misheard because you’re worried about Lord Sylvan!”
They were… denying it?
Of course. I hadn’t recorded anything with a magic device.
There was no proof. If they framed me as a spoiled child throwing a tantrum, no one would believe me.
That’s how little they thought of me.
But before I could even process my anger—
A sudden noise came from behind as a door opened.
“You’re saying I hallucinated hearing that I’m not my father’s daughter? That I’m some slow-witted failure?”
“Y-yes! That’s right!”
“Stop this nonsense—”
The moment they saw who had entered, all color drained from their faces.
“Who…?”
I blinked and turned toward the voice.
And as soon as I saw who it was, my jaw dropped.
A pale-faced young man with an ominous aura and black hair.
It was none other than—my father, Sylvan.
“D-Dad?!”
Why was the patient who’d been carried off earlier now standing here?
Panicked, I ran up to him.
“Why are you up?! You should be resting—”
“I’m fine. Treatment’s done. But more importantly…”
His gloomy eyes gleamed ominously.
His gaze was fixed on the maids.
“What was it you said to my Mia?”
“L-Lord Sylvan!”
“It’s a misunderstanding! We—”
Before they could finish explaining—
It was as if an earthquake had struck. The air trembled violently.
A pitch-black, tar-like energy surged out like a coiling dragon, swallowing the space around us.
While my father and I remained untouched in a narrow bubble of calm, the immense dark energy twisted and pressed down on the maids with menacing force.
“Gaaaah!”
“H-Help—!”
The maids collapsed to the floor, unable to withstand it.
They looked like they were kneeling and begging for forgiveness.
My father, as usual, spoke in a drowsy tone, as though even this was a bother to him.
“So… the direct bloodline of Hamruloren must look like a joke to you.”
“N-no, never—”
“And who gave you permission to offer excuses?”
Terror filled their eyes.
Even if he didn’t hold a central political position in the family, Sylvan was still a pureblood Hamruloren, one of the most dangerous dark mages in existence.
“P-please forgive us…! We made a terrible mistake…”
He looked away from them as if they were beneath his notice and turned to me.
“Mia… it’s not dinnertime yet, right? Want to eat together?”
“Wait—are you really okay?”
“Of course. A poison-immune dark mage dying from poison? Come on.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his dry joke.
Though, aside from us, the corridor still looked like a scene straight out of hell, filled with thick, ominous miasma.
He casually turned and started walking down the hall. I quickly followed after him.
But just then, the door my father had entered through opened again.
“Lord Sylvan!”
It was Max, the administrator of the Tower of Necromancy—a middle-aged man with neatly combed silver hair.
“Please, let go of your anger now.”
“My anger?”
“Those girls… if this continues, they’ll stop breathing.”
“Oh.”
It was as if Sylvan had completely forgotten about them. He slowly turned around.
The maids were now foaming at the mouth, barely conscious.
A dense aura of death hovered over them.
“If they die… so what? If they can’t even handle that, they’re unfit to serve House Hamruloren.”
And honestly, he wasn’t wrong.
The staff of House Hamruloren were all undead or dark mages—each one clawing their way up from the bottom to prove their strength.
Even Max himself had started as a servant and worked his way up to administrator.
It was a family that glorified the strong.
“You’re not wrong, but… the Tower of Necromancy is a separate institution from the main house.”
“Even if you’re a direct descendant, laying hands on Tower personnel could become a problem.”
Smack!
A blast of purple energy struck Max’s shoulder and cheek.
Though he managed to withstand it, blood trickled from his lips.
“My daughter was insulted… and you’re worried about the rules of the Tower?”
“Hah… how amusing. Are the laws of the dead more important than family?”
I swallowed hard.
So Dad has a temper after all… just like my past-life father.
I used to think we had nothing in common beyond appearance.
Turns out I was wrong.
He usually kept to himself, uninterested in others—but clearly, if pushed, he was terrifying.
Max bowed his head quickly and tried to reason with him.
“…Of course not. I only meant… I’ll make sure those girls are punished according to Tower procedure. I just don’t want this incident to grow larger.”
“This is during the demonstration period. If word reaches the current head of the house, it might unfairly affect Lady Kalmia.”
At that, Father’s eyes dimmed.
Looking down at me, he asked in a low voice:
“Mia… if letting it go would make you feel better, then I’ll do it. It’s up to you.”
“I’m fine. This is enough.”
It’s true I was angry.
But just for some loose talk, they didn’t deserve death.
Until now, the reason the staff looked down on me was partly because I hadn’t awakened dark magic yet.
But also—because they thought my father was passive and harmless.
Now that everyone knew he was a sleeping volcano, they’d never dare treat me lightly again.
And that was far more important.
“I see… if that’s what you want.”
In an instant, the dark energy disappeared from the hallway.
All that remained was the sound of the maids gasping for air like they’d nearly drowned.
“We’re grateful for your mercy, Lord Sylvan.”
“There won’t be a second time.”
For once, Father’s voice was crisp and threatening.
Max bowed deeply again.
“Understood… Dinner is ready. If you head to the banquet hall, you and the young lady can eat right away.”
Father gestured for me to come, and I nodded, quickly moving to his side.
As we walked, my eyes briefly met Max’s.
I could see the humiliation and seething hatred burning behind his polite facade.
So he’s still holding a grudge… he won’t forget this easily.
Having climbed his way up to this position from nothing, his pride must be immense.
This probably won’t end here.
I etched the warning into my mind—and quickly followed behind my father.
