One Day, My Dad Showed Up

No magician who was about to activate the magic, even the magic circle just before activation, and even the magical tool concentrating mana.

It was desolate and cold with nothing.

The wide hall of the abandoned palace was like the remains of a battlefield. It was so pitifully raw and exposed. The magic circle was absurdly barren, devoid even of the minimal furnishings that should have been present.

Ignoring even the slightest discomfort, I opened my eyes narrowly.

‘What’s this? Wasn’t he supposed to cast a spell?’

Any magic, in reality, required mana and a magician to activate it.

But if the emperor were such an astonishing magician that he could activate ‘obedience’ alone, then songs praising the great magician emperor would have overflowed long ago.

He had already denied being a magician himself… could it be that beneath this desolate floor, there were magicians and magical tools hidden?

Right before paranoia was creeping towards extreme conspiracy theories.

The emperor spoke gently.

“Let me tell you an interesting story. By the time you finish hearing it, you’ll find yourself already inside.”

I raised my eyes to look at him.

…it doesn’t seem very interesting. Nevertheless, despite seeing the faint traces of reluctance on my face, the emperor continued without hesitation.

“There was once a truly remarkable magician. She was so extraordinary that she was hailed as the next Tower Master at the age of eighteen. Do you understand why that’s remarkable, Claire?”

“Yes. Mana is a resource that accumulates strictly in proportion over time.”

Correct. The emperor nodded fervently, like a proud teacher teaching an exceptional student.

A vivid memory suddenly unfolded before me.

According to the ‘Basics of Magic’ that my mother possessed, refining through a magic circle or a magician was required to use mana in its natural state.

However, mana accumulated within a magician’s body in such a way could be used immediately.

Although efficiency varied depending on innate talent and absorption rate, the absolute factor was time.

To gather a large amount of mana, a significant amount of time must be invested. It was only natural that the more mana accumulated, the more tremendous the magic that could be activated.

Therefore, the condition for becoming a Tower Master was also mana.

So, if the magician in the emperor’s story was hailed as the next Tower Master at eighteen…

It meant that by that age; she had already accumulated a quantity of mana in her body comparable to that accumulated by an ordinary magician over decades.

It was a level of absorption beyond excellence.

In line with that thought, the emperor’s voice, proud as if boasting about his own affairs, flowed out.

“She was truly a born genius.”

He continued his story, excitedly.

“Her mentor had nothing more to teach her at the age of ten, so he gave her a robe, and at fifteen, she jumped into magic potions that no one dared to touch and made them a trend.”

For a moment, my body trembled. No way.

“But she had one misfortune. Her father was too greedy.”

A person who handled magic potions extremely well, with a greedy father.

I knew such a person.

“If their daughter was so talented, the parents could go around saying, ‘Our daughter is amazing, our daughter is this amazing,’ and everyone would naturally agree, right?”

“….”

“But this father couldn’t stand his daughter. But everyone was saying how amazing she was, so he went crazy.”

The emperor realized I had caught on and eagerly continued.

“And he really went crazy.”

It was impossible to remain still. Eventually, I took the first step into the room.

The emperor, like a monster tempting a lost traveler in a swamp, took one step back.

The first impression upon entering the room was, to put it mildly, very unpleasant.

“The magician hated her father. Well, who would like such a father? But this one hated her father so much that she asked to be completely removed from the family tree. To be disowned.”

Someone who wanted to cut ties with someone they were fighting with. Fiery temper and towering pride.

I knew such a person…

As if entranced, I took two more steps inside.

Now it was hard to breathe. The psychological pressure was transmitting to my body.

Yet the emperor, still feeling insufficient, shook his head and retreated much further.

“So, the father said he would remove his daughter from the family tree. Instead, he asked for his daughter’s overflowing, mighty mana.”

“… mana, you say?”

My voice trembled.

Five steps further, I followed the emperor inside. He wasn’t far now.

He waited for me, standing in place.

With an amused, observing, strange tone, he curiously asked me.

“Well, what do you think? Someone who never lacked mana in her life. How much mana do you think such a person would give to a greedy father, to sever the significant relationship of family?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer.

For the first time since meeting him, the emperor wore a tired expression.

It was a face that had crumbled under the weight of past trials. He slowly turned away from me and looked around the palace.

The emperor spoke shattered words.

“Charlotte gave my uncle enough mana to kill my mother.”

Mom. I swallowed a deep breath. This was why I followed him this far.

“Of course, Charlotte didn’t know my uncle would commit treason.”

It was a voice that sounded like someone else’s business.

Rather than feeling like someone else’s business, it was just…

A voice that sounded indifferent because it was already emotionally worn out from immense crisis and ongoing hardship.

I gathered my resolve and walked towards him.

The pressure began to crush not only my breath but also my chest. The discomfort was so intense it felt suffocating.

“Moreover, Charlotte got along fine with her deceased aunt and missing cousin. She stormed into the palace and fought fiercely with her father. She put up a huge fight.”

The emperor looked at me with silent eyes.

“But no matter how much of a genius she was, she lost most of her magic beforehand, didn’t she?”

Charlotte lost. She lost miserably.

The story was reaching its climax.

The emperor staggered towards me and gently grasped my trembling shoulder. An adult’s hand firmly supporting me.

Even though he was the one who brought me into this situation, I was grateful.

To the extent that that thought came first, because this space itself was pressing me down.

“And then, Charlotte was imprisoned for… a year? Two years? Three? Four? I don’t exactly know because I was busy fleeing for my own life.”

“So… what about Mom…”

“Charlotte has a strong sense of pride. Except for one time, she never spoke of what happened during that time to anyone. Ashel even knelt down and begged Charlotte to tell him, but she refused.”

“…”

A creepy sensation crept up my spine. The emperor’s words evoked an inherent fear of the past.

But the emperor didn’t stop.

“Well, she didn’t speak, but people could guess what happened back then. She was probably a magical slave. A huge amount of magic constantly flowed from my uncle.”

“…”

“He used Charlotte’s magic to play around, torment people he didn’t like, and take away what he desired, all while having fun.”

I couldn’t bear it any longer and vomited, emptying my stomach. But there was nothing to vomit except bile.

The emperor gently patted my back.

A compassionate touch.

“This is… torturous. Just hold on a little longer. I’ve almost finished.”

It doesn’t make sense… I’m an Astariol, suffering like this. How can the emperor, an ordinary person, be fine?

I breathed heavily, staring blankly at the ground.

Then I suddenly realized.

This pressure, this pain, this discomfort.

‘…this is something only an Astariol can feel.’

For a moment, I forgot about the urge to vomit. Goosebumps crawled over me. Unconsciously, I grabbed the emperor’s sleeve, as if asking for reassurance.

When our eyes met, the emperor nodded.

He seemed genuinely sorry, yet oddly relieved.

“You’ve noticed. Look up.”

Very slowly, I raised my gaze.

Typically, magic circles are drawn on the ground. But this one was on the ceiling.

Not just any ceiling of an ordinary hall. It was much higher. Nestled among intricate patterns, colored designs, and elegant gore inscriptions.

‘…what is that.’

I knew nothing about magic. My knowledge of magic only came from .

In the realm of magic, I was someone who couldn’t even stand at the starting line of that long horizon.

Yet, as complex and immense as that magic circle was… I instinctively understood its eerie sophistication and destructiveness.

This was a magic crafted solely to bind Astariol.

To make ‘us’ kneel, bark like dogs, and weep.

Regardless of ‘our’ will.

The emperor, who had been observing the magic circle with me, remained calm. He only supported my trembling body.

“My uncle has long believed that the Astariol should be ‘properly’ ruled by the emperor. He was dissatisfied with the temple strictly venerating the Astariol as demigods.”

“…”

“… this magic circle suggests that there were those among our ancestors who sympathized with such ideas.”

I couldn’t even laugh.

Trying to ‘properly’ rule Astariol?

What this magic circle wanted was nothing but obedience, suppressing the soul and mind, not a normal ruling of divine beings.

Any loyal subject forcibly bound by this magic would surely breed resentment.

The emperor looked down at me closely.

“From here on, it’s just my conjecture, but Charlotte was an exceptional magician. Even though she might not have known exactly what this magic was, she probably realized it had something to do with Astariol.”

“… ”