Episode 3. The Day My Father’s Sword Was Drawn

 

No one explained anything to the frightened little girl.

“Make sure the child isn’t harmed. Pull back and stand by,” the knight commander ordered, then handed me over to another knight behind him.

The same one I had bitten earlier. His right hand bore a fresh bite mark, blood still beading at the edges.

“Um…”

I blinked up at him. He looked down, slightly annoyed.

‘So he was just doing his job, huh.’

Feeling sheepish, I murmured an apology.

“Sorry… I just found out too…”

Then it happened.

A massive gust of wind swept through the air.

Whoosh—!

“Gah!”

...What?

Dad had merely swung a fire poker through empty air.

But a sharp arc of sword energy surged toward the commander, who barely managed to block it—stumbling back nearly a meter.

Then came an unrelenting barrage of attacks.

The fire poker tore through the air like a storm. The commander looked overwhelmed just blocking the strikes.

“Disobedience means death, was it?”

“Grk.”

“How absurd.”

“Sir Je– Jenz…”

“How do you plan to subdue me, I wonder?”

Dad spoke calmly between strikes, sending one blade wave after another.

The commander, despite all his bravado, couldn’t land a single hit.

“And on top of that…”

“Guh!”

“You dared threaten my daughter.”

That was it. I was the final spark that ignited his fury.

Dad fired a wave of sword energy every second. The commander was barely keeping up.

Just… how was he supposed to counterattack?

Only now did I understand why Dad had scoffed at him earlier.

“Stand down, Enok Rubinstein!”

The knight holding me shouted in desperation.

A flash of silver gleamed.

A drawn sword now pressed coldly against my neck.

“Hiiik!”

“Lilith!”

Dad stopped mid-attack. His face went pale as he froze in place.

“Surrender peacefully and come with us. Do so, and we’ll spare your daughter.”

“To threaten a child… So much for the honor of the Holy Knights.”

Dad ground his teeth, scoffing. I mentally agreed.

“We are executing the Emperor’s command. His Majesty ordered us to bring Enok Rubinstein back—by any means necessary.”

The commander, barely alive and already humiliated, still dared to speak.

After a moment of silence, Dad answered.

“…I have forsaken that name.”

So it was true, then. He really was Enok Rubinstein.

The very man from the original story.

I nearly laughed. So much for a peaceful side-character life.

“Never again will I serve the Imperial Crown. Tell your master that.”

“You’re not being offered a choice.”

With unfounded confidence, the commander pointed his sword at Dad.

“This is an order.”

“….”

Something strange swirled around my father again. The air tensed.

Something big—really big—was about to explode.

The knight holding me tightened his grip, sword still to my neck.

“Enok Rubinstein! Stop now if you want your daughter to live!”

“Hrk! W-wait! Just a second!”

Despite my trembling heart, I steeled myself and took a breath.

Let’s summarize the situation.

My dad, whom I thought was a background NPC, turned out to be the hidden protagonist, Enok Rubinstein.

Which meant I was—yes—

Setting No. 6: “He lost his young daughter to the Empire and vowed revenge.”

I was that daughter.

‘Oh god. I want my chill side-character life back.’

Now that everything was clear, I had only one option.

I gently pushed the knight’s sword away and flashed the brightest smile I could muster.

“Of course! If it’s the Emperor’s command, we must obey! Daddy’s planning to return to the Order right away~!”

Clap clap clap.

Even Dad looked at me, completely stunned.

---

“You said I look like Mom! That I take after Mom!”

I threw a tantrum, flailing on the floor while Dad knelt beside me like a criminal.

“I’m sorry, princess.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?! Why! WHY?!”

“I really am sorry… I’ve got no excuse…”

Dad’s true form—silver hair and blue eyes—matched mine perfectly.

He had lied.

“I mean, really…”

Suddenly, he grabbed me tight and smacked a big kiss on my cheek.

“My brilliant girl. Who do you take after, huh? That quick thinking back there—genius!”

Dad glanced out the window where six knights were still waiting.

He was grinning like a fox.

“I’ll ‘return to the Order,’ huh? Let them think that. What suckers. Soon as we pack up, we’re outta here.”

I looked at him in disbelief.

Was this really the same Enok Rubinstein? The cold, emotionless swordsman from the story?

Now he was… like the village idiot.

‘Maybe losing me back then changed him…’

I tried to understand this more playful version of Dad.

“Dad, I have something to say.”

“Hmm?”

He was stuffing supplies into a bag.

“Let’s not run away. Let’s go back to the capital. To the Order.”

“Huh?”

He turned with wide eyes.

“I mean it. I want to come too. Join the academy. Get my badge. I’m a talent-holder too.”

His eyes widened further.

“How… how do you know about badges and academies?”

“Uhh, Uncle Joe told me.”

“WHAT?!”

Dad scowled.

“Why would he—how would he even know to say something like—”

He doesn’t. But I needed a scapegoat.

“I don’t want to keep running. If we do, they’ll just send more scary people. I could die next time…”

“No, Lilith. I’m sorry. I let my guard down today. I won’t again. You’ll never be in danger again.”

“That’s not the point. I don’t want to live in hiding. I want to live with pride.”

His hands froze.

“…Why?”

“Because I’m tired of hiding. I want to live without fear. Without lies.”

Dad’s face faltered.

He was quiet for a long time before finally speaking again.

“…You need to understand something.”

He knelt and placed his hands on my shoulders.

“I always knew this day might come. That one day, someone might come for me…”

“…Yeah.”

“But even knowing that, I ran. Because…”

His voice cracked.

“…because I didn’t want you to live the life of a talent-holder.”

I understood.

This world worships power.

But to be powerful is to be shackled—to war, to duty, to bloodshed.

“Talent-holders live as nobles, yes. But they’re also soldiers. Warriors. Their lives belong to the crown.”

“They fight. Every day.”

Dad’s voice turned heavy.

“The battlefield is… horrible.”

He stopped, eyes haunted.

“Yesterday’s comrade becomes today’s corpse. I bury them with my own hands and wonder—who dies tomorrow? Will I still be here?”

“…Dad…”

“When I first held you in my arms seven years ago…”

He pulled me close.

“You became my everything.”

His voice trembled.

“I can’t lose you. Not again.”