Reborn As Papa Silva

Kiten, Town Hall

"Are you afraid?"

"Are you trembling in despair?"

"Have you given up hope?"

"Have you quit on me?"

Alden Arcana fired question after question from the mayoral balcony, his tone detached and his gaze sharp as it swept across the crowd of 80 or so gathered below.

The remainders of Kiten, the magic knights and members of the medical ward—stared back with empty eyes. Pale faces, drained of life, reflected the gravity of months spent clinging to fading hope. The silence between them was so thick, so unnatural, that the scene felt less like a meeting of survivors and more like a gathering in a ghost town.

Alden's expression didn't change as he took in their desolation. The crowd didn't speak. They didn't need to. The dull void in their eyes said it all.

Eleven months. Eleven months of praying for reinforcements from the capital, of hoping that someone—anyone—would come to their aid. But no help had arrived. None ever would.

The truth had finally sunk in. They were abandoned.

Months of bitter frustration and a growing sense of betrayal had boiled under the surface, and now the cruel reality of their situation erupted in full force: nothing was going to change.

Just them. Eighty people against Diamond's army of 1,300.

Not even eighty. Once the medics were accounted for, they had just fifty-five magic knights—barely enough to power Kiten's barrier, which required fifty to maintain. And beyond the barrier? A force so overwhelmingly lopsided that any attempt to resist seemed laughable.

Five against 1,300.

Even if all Five were captains, it wouldn't be enough. And they weren't captains.

The minutes ticked by, each one bringing Diamond's forces closer to the town. Ninety minutes left. That was all.

The silence dragged on, oppressive and unbearable. Neither Alden nor the captains said a word, and the crowd, shoulders heavy with despair, slowly lowered their heads to stare at the cracked cobblestones beneath their feet.

Then Alden's calm voice broke the stillness.

"Even if none of you march out of these walls to meet Diamond on the battlefield, it makes no difference. The result was only ever going to end one way."

You think we don't know that?!

The crowd stiffened, fists clenched in frustration and fury. Alden's words were a cruel reminder of the futility of their sacrifices. Every fallen comrade, every moment of suffering—it had all been for nothing. Defeat was inevitable—

"With our victory."

The crowd froze.

Their heads snapped up, confusion etched on every face. Had they misheard him? Alden leaned against the railing, his posture relaxed, his expression unreadable. It was as if he hadn't just said something utterly absurd.

Some in the crowd instinctively dug their fingers into their ears, disbelief turning to suspicion.

Alden shook his head. "Your ears are not deceiving you. Even if none of you leave these walls to fight, even if all you do is choose to wallow in despair, nothing will impede our victory." Or so I'd like to say.

Their eyes widened, pupils dilating as they gawked at Alden.

In the crowd, Vice Captain Marcel slowly raised a trembling hand and stammered, "S-sir… what are you talking about—"

"It's not a riddle, Marcel," Alden interrupted, his tone indifferent. Then, with a calmness that belied the impact of his words, he delivered another verbal bombshell. "I alone can deal with that army myself."

The crowd, save for Vortigarn and Sebastian, froze. They blinked blankly, unsure if they'd heard him correctly. Alden continued speaking as if discussing the weather.

"The first Wizard King defeated the Ancient Demon—a creature with the power to destroy the world. Do you really think I can't handle a mere army of 1,300?"

Before anyone could process his words, he pressed on, his voice steady and matter-of-fact. "You see a mighty army of mage warriors. I see a pack of mules, easily wiped from existence with a few waves of my arm. Hmm… perhaps 'mules' is too generous. In nearly a year, they've failed to defeat us, even when we were a tenth their size."

Alden's tone carried no arrogance or pride, only an unshakable certainty that left the crowd struggling to comprehend.

The remaining Clovers stared up at him, their disbelief palpable. Where was this confidence coming from?

Once again, Marcel raised his trembling hand. "S-sir, r-respectfully… you've been in a deadlock with Diamond's generals for months. How can you possibly—"

"Oh, that?" Alden cut him off, arching a brow before waving a hand dismissively. "That was just an act."

Marcel froze, his face blank with shock. The crowd mirrored his reaction, save for Vortigarn, who remained as impassive as ever, and Sebastian, who clenched his fists, his jaw tight. Beside him, Acier's gaze lingered on Alden, her eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion.

Before anyone could voice their disbelief, Alden continued, his tone unwavering. "Let me be clear. I can defeat that entire army, including all eight of their shining generals, by myself. Don't waste time questioning me on this—it's a pointless exercise."

The crowd's empty stares shifted into something fiercer. A spark of heat flickered in their eyes as they looked at him with renewed intensity. Suppressing a chuckle, Alden let them stew for a moment before speaking again.

"Now, you're probably thinking, Okay, Lord Alden, if you're so powerful, then what the fuck have we been doing here for the past eleven months? Why have we suffered, lost limbs, comrades, friends, and family, if you have that kind of power?"

A few in the crowd gaped at Alden's abrupt shift to a cruder tone, but the majority glared at him with undisguised fury, their silence laced with anger. Alden's expression turned cold.

"Let me make something perfectly clear. If Diamond's strength was limited to this army and its generals, there would be no need for concern. I could handle them on my own. But the Diamond Kingdom is more than that. With me far beyond my prime, I can at most deal with that guy, his generals, and perhaps 500 of their soldiers."

The crowd exchanged uneasy glances, furrowing their brows in confusion. Finally, Dax, the current Blue Rose captain, broke the silence. He forced himself to remain composed, though his tone was strained.

"Sir… who is that guy?"

Dax's hands clenched at his sides as he held back the rage threatening to surface. Alden's revelation that the last eleven months had been an act gnawed at him. Too many lives had been lost—his captain, his squadmates, countless comrades. Yet he gave Alden a chance to explain.

"King Goldstein," Alden said simply, his tone as indifferent as ever. "Goldstein F. Diamondhart, the current ruler of the Diamond Kingdom."

This time, even Vortigarn and Sebastian showed visible surprise. The rest of the crowd stared in shock.

Goldstein. The man known across the four kingdoms as an average, self-indulgent monarch. He possessed an impressive amount of mana due to his lineage, but he was no warrior. He had no military exploits to his name, no history of stepping onto the battlefield. He was a king who stayed in his palace, reaping the benefits of his subjects' toil and slave labor while living in luxury.

Yet here stood Alden, claiming that this unremarkable figure was now strong enough to rival him—a man who dismissed 1300 soldiers as mere insects.

The crowd waited, tense and impatient, for an explanation. Alden did not disappoint.

"I know what you're all thinking: How is Goldstein so strong when no one has ever heard of him?" He paused, scanning the restless crowd. "Before we get to that, let me ask you this—what do you know about the 24th Wizard King, Terran Gaiadore?"

Brows furrowed in frustration as the gathered knights and ward members exchanged glances. Alden's penchant for answering questions with more questions was wearing thin, especially with Diamond's army closing in by the second. Some clenched their fists, poised to voice their anger, when Acier raised her arm.

"Terran Gaiadore!" she blurted, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "The 24th Wizard King, known as the Greatest Shield of the Clover Kingdom! He was the chosen contractee of the Earth Spirit, Gnome! Together, they were said to wield magic that could span the entire land, casting spells from any location. No other kingdom dared challenge us while he ruled!"

Her enthusiasm was so earnest it might have lightened the tense atmosphere—if the crowd wasn't more interested in what Alden had to say.

"Thank you, Acier." Alden nodded before closing his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. When he opened them again, the crowd stiffened. His gaze now suddenly looked so thoroughly tired, his face tinged with depression, like he suddenly aged years in a matter of seconds.

Alden's next words came slowly, each syllable deliberate. "Don't ask me why. I won't tell you. All you need to know is this: the same Gnome who protected our kingdom and its people with unwavering devotion has now chosen Goldstein as his contractee. That same Gnome has lent all his mana and might to the very man who seeks to annex the Clover Kingdom."

The words hit like a blow.

"That same Gnome has made Goldstein a Wizard King-level powerhouse. Because of this, I can't defeat Diamond alone."

The crowd's collective breath hitched. Acier stood frozen, her earlier excitement extinguished as her eyes dulled. Alden's tired expression mirrored their growing despair.

It wasn't just betrayal they felt toward Gnome; they now realized Alden shared that burden. For him, the betrayal ran deeper. He had idolized Terran and Gnome as a child, and admired their partnership as the embodiment of Clover's might. And now, to hear that one of them—a spirit considered a Clover citizen—had abandoned their kingdom to aid the enemy? It was devastating.

Still, the question lingered: Why? Why had Gnome, who stood beside Terran to protect the kingdom for decades, turned against them? The crowd knew Alden wouldn't answer, so they moved on to the next question: How?

"Sir," Dax asked, breaking the heavy silence, "how do you know all of this?"

Alden's melancholic demeanor shifted, replaced by his usual air of detachment.

"You've all seen my magic enough to know it draws upon the power of tarot cards," he began. "And with tarot cards comes divination. Through my magic, I can calculate events across time—past, present, or future."

The crowd barely had time to absorb that revelation when Vortigarn, standing at the edge of the assembly, furrowed his brow and muttered, "Calculate? Not see?"

Alden gave a faint nod. "No, I don't have the power of divine revelations or prophecies. I am no prophet. A seer would be a more accurate term. My insights don't come from any divine source; they are simply an application of my magic. My ability is not absolute. Sometimes, my divinations are wrong—wildly so—because they're based on abstract formulas and countless unknowns. All I can do is piece together what has happened, is happening, or might happen."

He paused, letting his words settle before continuing.

"If I were a prophet, and some god or higher power wanted us to win, I imagine I would've received a vision or dream long before Goldstein and Gnome bonded. I would have known to strike at Diamond before it became a problem. But I'm not a prophet. I'm just a glorified mathematician running calculations on fate. And because I didn't foresee their bond forming, I had no reason to act. I didn't even divine Goldstein's or Gnome's whereabouts until months before this mess began…"

His voice trailed off, leaving the crowd with more questions than answers. Their frustration simmered, only to shift as the Purple Orca Captain struck again.

Vortigarn chewed his lip before parting his mouth to speak. "And what made you start... What suspicions prompted you to delve into Goldstein's and Gnome's fate?"

Alden shrugged, offering no pretense. "As Octavian wasted away on his deathbed, Diamond had already begun preparing for another campaign. That's not unusual for them. Striking Clover when it's vulnerable is second nature to them."

His voice dripped with undisguised derision as he continued. "I could've dismissed it as Diamond being Diamond, but that would've been reckless. So, I divined their intentions and fate—just in case they had something more dangerous up their sleeve."

He paused, giving a chance for his words to settle. "Fate is intertwined. They say a monarch carries the destiny of their nation on their back. Naturally, divining Diamond's fate led me to Goldstein's. That's when I uncovered Gnome's involvement... and realized just what kind of monster Goldstein has become."

Alden straightened, his expression hardening as his gaze swept over the crowd. "And that brings us back to my earlier question. Why are all of you here? What is your purpose if I'm so great and powerful?"

The crowd swallowed nervously, their tension palpable as Alden pointed his crimson scepter at them and smiled, sharp and unyielding.

"You. You. You. Even you. Each and every one of you is here to serve as bait. My bait. To lure Goldstein out of the safety of his kingdom and palace so that I can deal with him."

Gasps rippled through the crowd, their pupils dilating as Alden's calm words cut through the uneasy silence. He paid no attention to their shock and continued, his voice measured and unrelenting.

"I divined the consequences of Octavian not crowning an heir, the impending civil strife, and this war. So why didn't I stop it?" He spread his arms in a theatrical shrug. "Because the safety of the entire kingdom is at stake, and I chose the lesser of evils."

The crowd leaned forward as Alden pressed on, his words bruising emotional scars and wounds deeper with every syllable.

"The truth is, despite looking like the picture of health today, I have only two, maybe three years left before the toll of my injuries—those earned on battlefields and from forcefully prying into heavenly secrets—catches up to me. Then I'll be gone."

Shock spread like wildfire through the crowd, but Alden showed no signs of stopping.

"According to my calculations, it will take at least a decade for the Clover Kingdom to produce another powerhouse capable of even standing against Goldstein—let alone defeating him. But we don't have that kind of time. With me gone, Goldstein won't waste a second before taking our land for himself, his people, and his kingdom. Clover's nearly 1,400-year history will come to an end."

The crowd trembled, unable to suppress their growing panic.

"I'm the Wizard King," Alden declared, his voice sharp with resolve. "I cannot let that happen—especially when I have the power to prevent it. So, I looked the other way and let the civil war unfold. It gave Goldstein the illusion of confidence and victory, and he didn't let me down."

He smirked faintly, a glint of grim satisfaction in his eyes.

"A few days after I imposed a temporary suppression on the civil strife, Goldstein panicked. He thought the perfect chance his kingdom had waited a millennium for was about to slip through his fingers. In his eyes, I had at least two decades left, so he couldn't afford to wait. He ordered his army to march on Kiten."

Alden's tone turned almost mocking. "Goldstein is cautious—a bit of a coward. I knew that if the Pope and I used our political power to crown Augustus King and fully end the civil strife, freeing up the entire Magic Knights, he'd retreat into his kingdom again."

He shrugged, his expression indifferent. "So I didn't. I let only two squads—the Purple Orcas and Blue Rose—go to meet his army. They're not exactly Clover's finest. Goldstein grew more confident, more reckless, deploying practically all of Diamond's combat forces."

Alden didn't react to the glares of the Purple Orcas and Blue Rose survivors, their eyes red with fury. Vortigarn and Dax were no exception, but Alden pressed on.

"But even then, his army didn't include Goldstein himself. So, I contacted the Heart Queen. She was just as concerned about Goldstein's power, having learned of it through her own means. Together, we staged a play."

Heart was far richer in natural resources than Clover, naturally after Clover, Diamond would set their sights on Heart, and with the current queen and Undine's contractor beyond her prime, Heart wouldn't stand a chance.

Heart's price for cooperating in Alden's scheme, and taking in the people of Kiten, was Alden's vow to slay Goldstein.

The crowd's confusion deepened as few of them managed to put that together, but Alden, indifferent, continued.

"Heart mobilized their elite forces, and suddenly you all found yourselves fighting a war on two fronts. Did you really think your survival against Heart, despite being outmatched, was due to luck? Or that Heart held back out of fear?"

Alden smirked, the faintest trace of amusement in his expression. "No. That was part of the act—to embolden Diamond even further. It worked. Goldstein personally went to Spade to negotiate a peace treaty, ensuring his kingdom could focus all its might on us."

His voice grew colder. "A few weeks after I successfully negotiated peace with Heart and reinforced our ranks, Diamond deployed all eight Shining Generals to meet me."

He paused, the group hanging on his every word.

"But still, that wasn't enough. I needed Goldstein himself to show up."

"So throughout the war, I deliberately feigned weakness," Alden began, his tone even yet piercing. "I struggled against merely seven generals, allowed our defensive line to be pushed back to Kiten, and even purposely let myself be injured several times. All of it was to stoke Goldstein's greed and courage—to make him think he could finish me off himself. But no such luck. That coward is far too craven."

He sighed, a faint note of exasperation slipping through. "Whenever I tried to divine the odds of marching into the Diamond Kingdom myself to hunt him down, the results were clear. Many possibilities showed me crippling the kingdom's might, but only a few—and unfavorable—paths led to Goldstein's death. Even if I sacrificed myself, casting forbidden magic to wipe Diamond off the map, nine times out of ten, Goldstein would survive.

"I don't gamble with such overwhelming uncertainty—especially when the fate of my kingdom is at stake."

Alden's voice hardened as his gaze swept over the crowd. "So I had no choice but to hold the line here in Kiten. We struggled. We lost troops. We endured a freezing, starving winter. No matter how much the people here or in the kingdom suffered, I waited."

He paused to catch his breath, causing the crowd's proverbial stomach to churn as they waited for him to continue. "But that only gave Goldstein the illusion of steady victory—that as long as he waited, Kiten would eventually fall into his lap. So, I recalculated and introduced another variable."

With a sharp gesture of his scepter, Alden pointed across the balcony to Acier. She froze as every eye turned toward her. Alden's voice rang out, steady and commanding.

"I had Vortigarn place Acier in Marcel's squad. On their first mission, they wiped out three battalions, delivering an unwarranted and unexpected blow to Diamond's ranks."

He allowed the murmurs to ripple through the crowd before continuing. "That made Diamond desperate. It made Goldstein desperate. The Kiten they thought was already in their grasp still had the power to resist and turn the tables."

Alden's tone grew colder. "I added fuel to the fire by leaking Acier's identity to Diamond's scouts. That terrified them. They feared Acier's presence signaled that the Silver Eagles would soon join the warfront—and their golden opportunity was slipping away."

The crowd hung on his every word as Alden continued, his voice measured but relentless. "Goldstein could no longer sit on his hands. With Diamond's remaining reserves, he rejoined his army. And now, as we speak, he leads them toward us."

Alden tapped his scepter against the floor. A magical projection shimmered into view above the crowd, revealing Diamond's 1,300-strong army, led by their generals. The image shifted, zooming upward into the sky. It settled on a tiny figure walking through the clouds.

The figure was broad and imposing, with a golden crown adorned by a ruby gem resting atop his head. He wore a long, black, gold-trimmed fur cape, had a neatly groomed beard, light blonde hair, and piercing sapphire eyes.

"Goldstein F. Diamond Heart," Alden announced coldly as the projection vanished.

The gobsmacked crowd turned back to him, their shock and unease visible. Alden nodded, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

"All the suffering and grievances you've endured over these past eleven torturous months—the friends, lovers, comrades, and allies you've lost, the sleepless and starving nights, the injuries and missing limbs—all of it was part of my scheme to draw out that man."

Alden's gaze swept over the crowd, his voice unyielding. "You probably hate me for it. You have every right to. But I don't care. We aren't heroes. We are soldiers. You are soldiers. If the Clover Kingdom needs us to endure this hell—no matter how many times it takes—I'll force you to do it again."

The crowd stirred uncomfortably, but Alden pressed on, his voice growing sharper.

"That's what it means to be a soldier. You don't work for free. You're paid handsomely. And when the day comes to give your life, you do it."

He pointed his scepter once more, emphasizing each word. "This is the price of fate—the price exacted from you for the privilege of being born noble, with the world at your feet."

Alden's voice turned harsh, his gaze narrowing. "All those commoners and peasants you've used, abused, and discarded—the innocent women whose lives or purity you've stolen, the men you've widowed out of petty grievances, the children you've orphaned on a whim—this is karma. This is retribution."

His voice softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. "I know some of you have done none of those things. But even so, being born into privilege—never worrying about your next meal or making it through the night—has finally caught up to you."

Alden's final words struck like a hammer. "This is what Noblesse Oblige truly means. In times of peace, you are free to enjoy your wealth and live lavishly. But in times of war and strife, you must endure the worst to make amends for all you have taken."

"So!" Alden pointed across and over the walls with his scepter, his voice echoing loudly. "I will be leaving these walls for the battlefield—and you will accompany me!"

His tone carried unshakable authority as he continued, "You will accompany me because you are Magic Knights! You are soldiers! And when the kingdom requires it, you will give your lives for its benefit! Not just for duty—but for what you have back home. Lovers, children, parents, friends, businesses, Houses—everyone here has something or someone they cherish. Something that has given you purpose to keep fighting! And for that—for them—you will march with me. March to your probable deaths, and fight with Diamond!"

Alden's voice grew sharper, more resolute. "Forget Kiten! This war is no longer about defending this city. None of you will be staying behind. This war is about killing Goldstein and delivering a crippling blow to their military might so that Diamond will not dare invade us again in the near future!"

He let his words settle before continuing, his tone unwavering. "Forget about Kiten! Some of you may wonder about the people of this city who have tragically lost their lives in this grand play. Forget them! They knew what they were signing up for when they chose to live in a border town. They are no strangers to war. Their deaths were expected. Do not pity them! Do not cry for them!"

Alden's expression darkened, his eyes hard as steel. "Everyone has a part to play in service of their kingdom. I will give my life to bring down Goldstein, his generals, and no less than five hundred of his men with me. Now, my question to you is this: What will you do?"

His gaze swept the trembling crowd. "Despite being outnumbered 800 to 80—no, 800 to 55—will you still fight? Will you give your lives to the kingdom that has given you so much? Will you follow the one who has taken everything from you into battle? Will you accompany me to my death—to your deaths? Tell me!"

Alden's voice rose to a thunderous roar. "TELL ME!!!"

His mana surged, spiraling upwards in a dazzling spectrum of prismatic hues. It lit the sky above him like a celestial flare.

"ARE YOU AFRAID?!" he bellowed. "ARE YOU TREMBLING IN DESPAIR?! HAVE YOU GIVEN UP HOPE?! HAVE YOU QUIT ON ME?!"

The crowd trembled—not with fear, but with fury and hate. Pure, unbridled hatred, as if Alden's words had infected them with something primal.

Everyone—Magic Knights, medics, even Sebastian and Acier—clenched their fists. Their voices erupted, raw and defiant.

"NO!!!"

"WILL YOU FOLLOW ME TO HELL?!"

"YES, SIR!!!"

The crowd snapped to attention, standing tall, their three-finger salutes steady as they roared in unison. Alden's lips curled into a proud smile.

"Very well! Now, it's time for me to give you something!"

The crowd stilled as four human-sized cards materialized above Alden, floating serenely. He pointed his scepter toward them.

"Within the four leaves of a clover lie hope, faith, love, and good luck. As the Wizard King of the Clover Kingdom, I bless you with all of these!"

The cards fully materialized: The Hierophant, The Star, The Two of Cups, and The Wheel of Fortune. One by one, they activated.

The Hierophant unleashed a purple ray of faith. The Star sent a beam of blue light. The Two of Cups poured out a liquid river of red. The Wheel of Fortune scattered green dust. These elements intertwined and cascaded over the crowd, touching not only the Magic Knights but also the medics.

A wave of determination, morale, and unshakable resolve flooded their beings. It felt tangible—no longer a fleeting emotion driven by adrenaline, but an unquenchable force.

Alden wasn't finished. As the four cards vanished, a far larger one loomed high above him, towering over the sky.

Labeled VIII, it depicted the silhouette of a woman gently stroking a lion's forehead and jaw. Alden's voice turned solemn.

"We can romanticize war all we like, but at the end of the day, it's a battle. And a battle cannot be won without strength. So that is what I will give you."

The lion in the card suddenly shook itself free from the woman's grasp. It turned its gaze to the crowd below, baring its teeth in a grin.

The lion opened its jaws wide and let out a deafening roar.

"GRROOOAR!!!"

A crack split the sky, like a sonic boom. Rings of red sound rippled outward, striking the crowd's ears. A strange sensation followed.

Their already heightened spirits and determination surged even higher. Their bodies felt invigorated, brimming with vitality and strength. Scars faded, injuries vanished, and exhaustion melted away. Their mana swelled, amplifying many times over.

Every person felt attuned to themselves and the world around them. They were brimming with power—and that power demanded an outlet.

Alden, imperceptibly wiping a bead of sweat, tapped his staff once more. Just as he had done days ago with Sebastian and Acier, the Eight of Wands card appeared over everyone. His voice rang out with finality.

"To war!"

"To war!!!" the crowd thundered, raising their arms skyward.

In a blinding flash, they disappeared.

Author's Note:

[1] Sorry for the short chapter, it's been a depressing and tiring week, and fucking Tuesday killed all my motivation. I really want to find whoever designed my schedule and choke the life out of them. 3 fucking 3 hour lectures in a row, I'm going to get fucking hemorrhoids.

Anyway the point is I can't do updates on Tuesday, the only way you'll get them is if I have a nearly finished chapter from Monday. 

As for Wednesday, I don't know either, I'm running around like mad on that day.

[2] Feel free to join the Discord! https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar