Dark Dad’s Rebirth - Chapter 14: Madness (5)

Caelius let out a small sigh, his voice cracking slightly. The physician, eager to avoid trouble, quickly began to speak despite not having much knowledge on the matter.

“Yes, of course. I’ll explain,” he stammered, rushing into his explanation.

“First, the… the blood doesn’t change.”

“What do you mean by that?” Caelius’s tone was calm, but his narrowed gaze betrayed his impatience.

“I mean that even if aura is infused, the biological father’s blood remains unchanged. However, while the blood stays the same, physical traits, personality, and even minor habits of the child can shift to match the one who infused the aura.”

At this, Caelius clenched his fist tightly, though the motion was so subtle the physician didn’t notice.

“In essence,” the physician continued hesitantly, “the child shares blood with the original father, but everything else—their appearance, demeanor, and so on—aligns with the one who provides the energy. This is why aura infusion should be avoided at all costs.”

The physician finished his explanation, his words cautious and deliberate.

A heavy sigh escaped Caelius’s lips. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back as he let out a hollow laugh.

“Hah… hahaha…”

The irony was almost laughable.

Of course, it had always seemed strange. He had always used precautions with Amerin—never failing to take measures to prevent conception. When he first heard rumors of Amerin’s hidden daughter, he had been certain the child wasn’t his.

But Aria’s golden hair and eyes had been enough to shake that certainty.

Caelius stared blankly at the floor for a long moment before motioning for the physician to leave. Taking the hint, the man handed over a sheet listing foods beneficial for pregnant women and quickly exited the room.

Even after the physician left, Caelius remained seated, staring out the spotless window. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a radiant glow over the room.

“I’ll return to reclaim it.”

“Do you think this pathetic trick will work?! I’ve told you before—you’re far too greedy for your own good!”

“Better than doing nothing, don’t you think?”

“You bastard…!! Do you even understand the effect this will have on the child?!”

“Only now you realize I’m a bastard? How unfortunate for you, Amerin.”

The realization was as bright and searing as the sun beyond the window.

The transfer of power could indeed work like this.

“Hah… haha…”

Caelius ran his hand through his dark hair again, laughing bitterly at himself.

At last, he felt certain. Certain that Aria might not be his child. No—certain that she wasn’t.

He bit his lower lip, memories flooding back to him.

Before he gave up his power as royalty, back when his influence was beginning to wane, he had funneled a significant portion of his royal strength into Amerin—half or more.

At first, it was a desperate bid to temporarily store his power in her body, with the intent to reclaim it later. It wasn’t a foolproof plan, but it had been his last act of desperation, like grasping at a rotting rope.

He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his power completely. Even if he couldn’t wield it as he once had, he wanted to retain some small measure of it, enough to prove his royal lineage.

So he had treated Amerin’s body as a mere “vessel,” forcing his strength into her without regard for consequences.

The plan had failed, of course.

I thought that strength had completely dissipated back then…

But now, it seemed, the echoes of that power had not disappeared after all.

Caelius clenched his fist tightly, so hard his knuckles jutted sharply under his skin. His head bowed, shadowing his dark eyes, as his thoughts swirled in chaos.

If what the physician said was true, could it be that the power he had transferred long ago had found its way into Aria?

Her mannerisms, her preferences, even the shape of her features—though her eyes resembled Amerin’s, the sharp curve of her nose, the refined line of her lips, and the slender shape of her nails were undeniably his.

His heart pounded wildly, and his mind roared with confusion.

Caelius pushed open the tall, ornate door and entered the room. His gaze immediately landed on Aria, lying motionless on the bed, her frail body curled up as though trying to disappear.

For a long moment, he simply stood there, silently watching her.

The air in the room felt heavy, almost oppressive, and the servants had already been dismissed.

Riri…

What if you’re not my daughter?

Caelius’s thoughts tangled further. What would it even mean?

Wouldn’t it be better that way?

He could live with her as she had always dreamed—with their beloved child, somewhere warm in the south where snow never fell, raising kittens or puppies, living peacefully.

The thought startled him, and he shivered.

Where had that idea come from? A faint memory stirred, but he couldn’t fully grasp it.

He couldn’t believe it. When had he ever entertained such… foolish, sentimental notions?

The southern warmth, where snow never falls.

It had nothing to do with him, yet the thought haunted him like a shadow he couldn’t shake.

“Father, I love you.”

“I’ve always had only you, Father. I want to be someone who makes you shine, always by your side.”

The voice echoed in his mind, clear and cutting, accompanied by a sharp pain that stabbed through his head.

“No matter what happens or how I change, promise me you’ll always believe in me.”

“Riri, if I’ve ever acted in a way that didn’t put you first, then it was my failing. If you’ve felt lonely or uncertain, that’s my fault. I’ll do better. Just… don’t leave me.”

“Aria, you’re the last woman in my life. Whether you’re my daughter or not, I love you. Enough to give up the throne for your sake.”

Memories—or perhaps fragments of them—rushed over Caelius like a tidal wave.

Could he call these memories unfamiliar? Or were they something buried deep within him, now finally clawing their way to the surface?

“I wanted to smile with you, to create new moments together.”

Power, wealth, and prestige. He had once longed to cast them all aside and live a life defined solely by their shared affection.

When had he ever wanted such a thing?

“Aria…”

Her name slipped from his lips, barely audible, yet filled with emotion.

This delicate, fragile woman—so much younger than him, so vulnerable.

“Aria, Aria, Aria…”

Aria von Wittelsbach.

The woman he had loved so deeply he would have given his life for her. No, the woman he still loved. The woman he couldn’t bear to see break any further because of him.

Standing in the corridor, lost in his thoughts, Caelius finally turned and reentered Aria’s room.

She lay there, small and silent, her shallow breaths the only sound in the room. Her face, pale and thin, seemed even more pitiful under the golden sunlight streaming in through the window.

Caelius stared at her for a long time before letting out a soft sigh and rubbing his face with both hands.

The memories of that day burned vividly in his mind—the day he lost everything, the day he made an irreversible decision.

“You’re insane! You want to force the power of royalty into someone who isn’t even royal? Do you have any idea what could happen?!”

“Shut up, Amerin. I can’t stand your endless chatter.”

“You’ll regret this! You won’t die a peaceful death for what you’ve done!”

Looking back, it was all so strange.

The former emperor had simultaneously admired and feared Caelius, whose exceptional skills in swordsmanship had been honed on countless battlefields from a young age.

But great power, as they say, was a double-edged sword.

And in his desperation to keep even a shred of it, Caelius had created the very chaos now threatening to consume him.

Caelius reflected on his past, his clenched fists trembling slightly as he pressed them into his palms with enough force to leave deep marks. The memories flooded back: despite his conquests of countless kingdoms and his instrumental role in expanding the empire’s reach, his growing strength had unnerved the late emperor, who feared the day Caelius’s blade might turn on him.

That fear extended to Azecresis and his mother, the empress.

Even after stripping him of his power under flimsy pretenses, they worried incessantly about what might happen if Caelius defected to another nation. Their paranoia kept them restless, as if they hoped he would cease to exist altogether.

The occasional nighttime visitors—assassins sent to ensure Caelius would not become a threat—reminded him that Azecresis’s fear of him had never truly subsided.

The late emperor’s reluctance to “completely” banish Caelius stemmed from similar anxieties. It was far easier to invade a distracted empire plagued by civil strife than one united under a strong ruler.

During the period of instability brought about by the sudden change in the imperial successor, the emperor and empress chose to tether Caelius by granting him the nominal title of Grand Duke. It served as a leash, binding him to the empire while preventing rival nations from taking advantage of his talents.

Even so, Caelius had entertained the idea of allying with foreign powers, approaching figures like Marquis Simmerin of Iben with veiled intentions.

But none of the other kingdoms dared risk the wrath of the empire. With the powerful nation of Biern maintaining the delicate balance of continental politics and mediating minor disputes, no one saw reason to provoke the empire.

Even if they succeeded in a war, the costs would be catastrophic. And should Caelius—an imperial by birth—achieve his goals only to turn his sword on them later, they would be equally doomed.

No one could control a force as unpredictable and untamed as Caelius.

Lost in thought, Caelius glanced at Aria, lying pale and frail on her bed. Her once radiant smile had vanished, replaced by a weariness so profound it seemed to sap her will to live.

His chest tightened painfully at the sight, a dull ache he couldn’t explain. The thought that his actions might have driven her to such a state clawed at him.

Was it all my doing? No… it’s not just that.

Something felt missing, as though he’d forgotten an essential piece of the puzzle.

Caelius’s expression darkened further. He had no idea how to bring back the smile she once gave him so easily.

Not long ago, Aria would greet him with a soft, bashful smile. Now, all he could recall were the scornful, irritated smirks she threw his way.

If Aria inherited my power…

Would that make him her father?

Her blood might not be his, but her mannerisms, features, and essence unmistakably mirrored his. If she bore his strength, did it matter whose child she was biologically?

Caelius’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. For someone so adept at hiding his emotions, he found that anything involving Aria constantly unraveled his composure.

“Riri…”

He whispered her name, his gaze fixed on her fragile form—her emaciated body, her ribs visible under her skin. The thought that she might truly be carrying his child stirred unfamiliar feelings in him.

It wasn’t just worry. It was something far stranger—an odd mix of restlessness and a faint, fluttering unease he couldn’t name.

Even when he first learned of Aria’s existence, he hadn’t felt this way.

The realization that she might be in danger now, however, struck a nerve.

If the Imperial faction finds out…

Both Aria and the child would be at risk. The mere thought made him bite down hard on his lip until the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

No matter what, he had to protect them.

Even if it cost him his life, Caelius vowed to keep Aria and their child safe.

But the weight of that promise felt heavy. He didn’t know how to protect anyone. His sword had only ever been used to take lives, never to shield them.

For the first time in his life, Caelius felt fear—not for himself, but for someone else.

The blood staining Caelius’s hands had never been shed to protect anyone—it was blood spilled for conquest, for ambition. At some point, war had become nothing more than a game to him, and his blade a tool for sport.

But now, for the first time, the weight of that blood felt suffocating.

He was afraid. Afraid that the karma of his actions might extend its shadow over her and their child.

Fear and worry—words that had no place in Caelius’s world until now—clung to him with suffocating intensity.

“What must I do for you to trust me?”

The rawness of such tender emotions, the foolish yet fervent longing to be loved, gnawed at him. He didn’t try to make sense of the storm within him, nor did he seek to resist it. He simply let himself be swept away by the tidal wave of emotions, enduring the ache of her rejection.

Would she smile if he brought her a dress shop, just as he had for Leria? Or would a room filled with the rarest jewels in the world bring a glimmer of happiness to her eyes?

If not, then perhaps he could crown her with the Emperor’s diadem, letting her rule as the radiant queen she deserved to be.

What if he swore eternal loyalty to her, knelt before her, and begged for her forgiveness?

Would she love him again then?

“If—just if—I wanted it, could you give up the throne?”

“Abandon the title of Grand Duke, the throne, everything. Hide your name and status, and live with me in a small, quiet village in the south where no one knows us… Could you do that?”

A life without power or titles was something Caelius had never imagined. Born to be a ruler, destined to stand at the pinnacle of the world, such a thought had never crossed his mind.

Yet now, the idea lingered—a life hidden in the forest, away from the world, shared with her and their child.

At the time, he hadn’t been able to answer her. But now, he could say it with certainty.

If that was what she wanted, he would give it all up. Every shred of his power and privilege—he would cast it aside if it meant turning her heart back to him.

Even with this newfound resolve, uncertainty clung to him like a shadow. Perhaps he felt this way because he knew deep down that such promises alone would never bring Aria back to him.

“Riri…”

Caelius leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her pale cheek. A faint smack sounded as his lips brushed her skin and pulled away.

She didn’t stir.

“…Hate me if you must. Blame me if it soothes you. Just stay by my side.”

For now, that was enough.

Even if she despised him and rejected him, as long as she remained close enough to reach out and touch, he could bear it.

Yes, this was enough for now. If it took years to open her heart, then he would wait. He would try harder, work endlessly, so long as she stayed.

He felt an overwhelming urge to bow his head at her feet and beg her not to leave.

If only she would stay. If only she would give him that much.

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