Dark Dad’s Rebirth - Chapter 15: What Lies Behind Hope

“This is far too sudden,” Gossen’s voice echoed through the office.

Caelius, however, showed no intention of withdrawing his plan. He had promised Aria that they would leave for the south next week, and he intended to keep that promise no matter what.

Since that day, Aria has been eating her meals and taking her medicine without resistance. Of course, Caelius still had to feed her himself, but this was a stark contrast to the days when she adamantly refused everything, throwing tantrums about not eating at all. For Caelius, there was no turning back on their move to the south.

Right now, nothing mattered more to him than Aria.

When had it started? At some point, the throne had ceased to hold any significance for him. But Caelius was too preoccupied organizing the grand duchy for Aria’s sake to even notice that shift. Walking through the mansion’s hallways, one could already see the number of servants had visibly dwindled.

“Even if it’s sudden, it can’t be helped. I won’t change the plan,” Caelius stated firmly.

Hearing his resolute tone, Gossen refrained from voicing further objections. However, sensing Gossen’s subtly dissuasive attitude, Caelius decided to keep the final destination a secret even from him.

Now, Caelius had even begun preparing to dissolve the last of his forces—the knights of the grand duchy. Once they were disbanded, he would no longer be able to confront Azecresis in open conflict. It would be akin to running naked from a heavily armed enemy.

Because of this, while Caelius dealt with most other matters quickly, he delayed addressing the dissolution of the knights until the very end.

“Still, I suppose I’ll have to handle it soon.”

Saying he didn’t feel any regret would be a lie. Yet at the same time, he also felt strangely liberated. The chains that had bound him for so long were finally breaking.

With that thought, Caelius began dismantling the knights as well, bit by bit, without further hesitation.

***

The changes in the grand duchy were undeniable proof that Caelius’s talk of moving to the south wasn’t idle. The shifts were subtle and hard for outsiders to notice, but Aria, living within the mansion, felt them closer than anyone else.

Hearing about it was one thing, but seeing it unfold was entirely different.

“Could we really… leave for the south this peacefully?”

Seated upright in bed, Aria gently stroked her belly. Inside was a child—a child belonging to both her and Caelius.

At first, she had wanted nothing to do with it. Yet somehow, with just those words—let’s go to the south—her resistance had begun to waver. Now, she found herself, almost unconsciously, envisioning a future for the three of them.

Will it be a girl? Or a boy?

Feeling guilty about the harsh words she had spoken about the child in the past, Aria was now trying, little by little, to open her heart.

“…I’m sorry,” she murmured softly. Her voice was faint, but her sincerity was genuine.

She spent a long time stroking her belly, imagining a future yet to come.

A quiet life in the south with Caelius—it still felt surreal, hard to believe. She thought it might be easier to believe a god had descended into the human world.

The sudden peace felt awkward to Aria as well. But it was the future she had dreamed of for so long. To say she wasn’t even a little hopeful would have been a lie. Of course, her hope was accompanied by fear. Peace and Caelius felt as mismatched as oil and water, and the situation felt so unreal that she often questioned whether it was truly possible.

Some days, she worried she would wake up and find it all shattered like a dream. On such nights, Aria would leave her room and gaze endlessly at the empty corridors of the mansion.

In her hands now were all the things she had so desperately wished for—Caelius’s love, peace, and even a quiet future.

In the dry, desolate heart of Aria’s soul, rain was beginning to fall at last.

* * *

Aria no longer aimed cutting words at Caelius, and the preparations to dismantle the grand duchy were proceeding smoothly without any major issues.

Perhaps because of this, the ever-tense Caelius was finally able to fall into a deep sleep in his chambers for the first time in what felt like ages. He had long suffered from insomnia, so it was impossible to remember the last time he had rested this well. Upon waking, Caelius felt as if his body were as light as air.

The chirping of birds outside the window. Sunlight streamed through the slightly parted curtains. A tranquil stillness filled the bedroom, suffused with peace.

The thought that such peace might accompany him from now on felt unfamiliar. It was easier to believe he would spend the rest of his life rolling around on battlefields.

War was something Caelius knew well. Peace, on the other hand, was utterly foreign.

As he sat up in bed, something felt off. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and yet Caelius’s instincts flared with alarm. It was a calm morning, utterly serene, but an inexplicable sense of unease began to envelop him.

He wasted no time heading straight to Aria’s room.

It’s fine. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing will happen.

Muttering reassurances to himself as if to stave off his growing anxiety, he pushed open the door to Aria’s room without knocking.

But Caelius already knew—his instincts had never been wrong before.

Blood spattered across the bed. Aria lay collapsed on the floor amidst the carnage. The moment Caelius saw her, his reason snapped entirely.

“Riri!!!”

His agonized scream tore through the room.

He had dismissed the servants in preparation for their departure, only for something like this to happen so soon afterward. Too late, Caelius realized his mistake.

This wasn’t like before when Aria had attempted to take her own life. Her torn and tattered clothing made that clear. Beyond that, there was no sign of a weapon anywhere that could have harmed her.

The moment this realization struck, a frenzied light gleamed in Caelius’s eyes.

* * *

“Fortunately, the young lady’s life is not in danger.”

The moment the physician’s words reached him, a sigh of relief escaped Caelius’s lips. The fury that had darkened his eyes seemed to subside slightly. But the next words shattered his fragile calm once again.

“However, the child… the one in her womb…”

He didn’t need to hear the rest to know. Caelius gritted his teeth, taking deep, deliberate breaths. He had anticipated this. Her belly had been slashed with a blade—of course, he had expected this.

Caelius tried desperately to console himself with that thought. Otherwise, he felt he might lose all control, storm into the imperial palace, and drive his sword through Azecresis’s throat.

“Perhaps Aria might even be glad,” he thought bitterly.

It was a miserable thought, but there was truth in it. Only a few days ago, Aria had shown nothing but hatred for the child in her womb.

But no matter how hard he tried to pacify himself, the blood-soaked whirlwind that had erupted overnight kept dragging him back to his past. It felt as if someone were whispering in his ear, urging him to grip a sword once more.

Caelius, already at the edge of his patience, was teetering precariously. His head swirled with thoughts, leaving him unable to make any clear decisions. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring blankly at Aria’s pale face.

Lying in bed, her worn-out features softened by sleep, she appeared utterly at peace, as if free from any worries or burdens.

“Riri…”

Caelius knew exactly what Aria wanted. That clarity was why he couldn’t grasp his sword with the same reckless determination he once had.

“You said… what you wanted was complete freedom from me,” he murmured to himself, a hollow tone lacing his words.

The prideful gaze that once burned in his eyes now held nothing but emptiness, an unreadable void.

He stood there for a long time, staring at her as if lost in thought. Occasionally, he would brush his fingers over her gaunt cheeks or clasp her pale, lifeless hands. But that was all. He did nothing more.

How much time had passed, he couldn’t say. Eventually, Caelius summoned the few remaining servants in the mansion. His voice, devoid of emotion, issued a command.

“Take Aria to the Principality of Repta immediately. You’ll be compensated handsomely—enough to rival the wealth of a noble family.”

The handful of trusted individuals he had kept for such emergencies ensured the order would be carried out flawlessly.

“I will follow tomorrow,” he added.

Strangely, however, Caelius looked like a man who had already relinquished everything.

* * *

Caelius stormed into his office, slamming the door open in frustration. As if waiting for this moment, Gossen began his report immediately.

“It seems the imperial court has caught wind of our activities. With so many servants dismissed at once, word must have leaked during the process. However, pinpointing the exact source is proving difficult.”

Caelius’s eyes narrowed. Most of the servants had been sent off with generous compensation and recommendation letters to allied noble families.

“So, someone passed on word that the grand duchy’s movements were unusual.”

“Yes, and judging by the timing, it seems they acted as soon as the knights were disbanded…”

Before Gossen could finish, Caelius cut him off with a wave of his hand. Silence fell over the room. Caelius ran a hand through his hair without speaking.

“I was complacent.”

Looking back, it was clear that his recent actions were tantamount to suicide. It was as if he had exposed himself bare before his enemies.

Of course, he had known there was a risk. But the empty promise of love had dulled his caution, leading him to trivialize the weight of his decisions.

It wasn’t until the consequences came crashing down that Caelius fully grasped his mistake.

Quietly, he replayed the image of Aria’s wounds in his mind. Those wounds had not been meant to take her life.

“They targeted the child.”

Caelius had known it was impossible to completely silence the many servants in the mansion. He had suspected that spies from the emperor might be present. But suspecting it and seeing it confirmed were entirely different matters.

“A few more days, and they would’ve disappeared on their own…”

And yet, they just had to stir up trouble.

Caelius let out a bitter laugh, his lips curling into a faint, self-deprecating smirk. His empty gaze wandered, eventually settling on the majestic imperial palace in the distance.

Through the window, he could see the few remaining servants in the grand duchy sneaking Aria out, her unconscious body hidden from view.

As Aria grew further and further away, Caelius felt his tenuous grip on his sanity slipping. By the time she vanished entirely from his sight, Caelius was no longer in the grand duchy.

***

The imperial palace felt unfamiliar, though Caelius had spent nearly half his life there.

At one time, he had been certain it would all be his: the palace, the throne—everything.

Standing in front of an ornate mirror framed with gold, Caelius stared silently at his reflection. His pitch-black hair and lifeless eyes looked utterly out of place amidst the grandeur. The throne, once the object of his deepest desire, no longer held any appeal.

All he could think of was Aria. The pain in his chest, sharp and unrelenting, grew unbearable. Her face filled his mind completely.

The way she had resembled him so closely, nervously glancing around like a cautious squirrel. The way she had calculated faster than anyone else while pretending to be clueless. The way she had begged for his affection with starved eyes, desperate for any hint of his love. And even the way she had later looked at him with nothing but emptiness, hurling merciless words.

In hindsight, Caelius realized he had always been lenient with Aria. Strangely, she was the one person he could never treat harshly.

He had been willing to give up the throne if that’s what she wanted. All for peace.

His steps were slower than usual, almost leisurely. Walking down the long corridors of the imperial palace, he seemed to savor the memories of his youth that still lingered in these halls.

How long had he been walking? Eventually, a familiar face appeared—a palace servant approaching him.

“Your Grace, what brings you here without any notice…”

“I’ve come to see my brother. Why would I need to send word?”

Caelius spoke in a flat, detached tone, his steps never faltering. The aged servant, his face lined with worry, scurried to keep up with him.

Sensing something amiss, a swarm of guards quickly surrounded Caelius. When he finally reached the emperor’s office, the steward shouted with what seemed like his last shred of resolve.

“Your Grace! His Majesty is attending to important matters—!”

But before the man could finish, Caelius pushed open the door without hesitation or even a knock. The dull sound of the door banging open startled Azecresis, who sat within. For a brief moment, shock was evident on his face.

After all, what kind of madman would dare to barge into the emperor’s office with such disrespect?

Yet Azecresis quickly masked his surprise. Watching this, Caelius felt an indescribable emotion well up within him.

This was the same boy who had once smiled so innocently, claiming he had no interest in fighting for the throne. It struck Caelius how much his brother had changed. The warm, affectionate brother he had once known was gone.

The realization left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“It was all lies to begin with,” Caelius thought bitterly.

With that thought, he stepped into the office, his movements slow and deliberate. The guards immediately assumed a defensive stance. Among them were men Caelius had once fought alongside, comrades with whom he had shared life and death on the battlefield.

As a boy, Caelius had believed these men would one day guard him as the emperor. Now, that belief felt like nothing more than a foolish delusion.

Ignoring their hostility, Caelius entered the office without bowing, his eyes locking with Azecresis’s. His stiff posture and unyielding demeanor were perhaps the last vestiges of his pride.

“Your Grace! Show your respect to His Majesty!” the steward exclaimed.

Azecresis, trying to maintain a facade of calm, replied, “It’s fine. Between brothers, such formalities are unnecessary.”

“But, Your Majesty—!”

Even as he spoke, tension was written all over Azecresis’s face. Caelius, watching his brother’s unease, thought wryly that Azecresis hadn’t changed much at all—still timid and small-minded, just as he had been in their youth.

Though Azecresis had managed to claim the crown, it didn’t suit him. He wore the throne like an ill-fitted garment, and Caelius suspected his brother knew it too. That was why he tried so desperately to suppress him.

The radiant golden hair that crowned the emperor was dazzling—almost too much so, given that it belonged to the man who had ordered Aria’s belly to be pierced. The contrast made Caelius’s lips curl into a twisted smile.

“Have you been well, brother?”

Before Caelius could speak further, Azecresis, clearly nervous, broke the silence.

“I heard you’ve been reclusive of late. You cannot imagine how worried I’ve been.”

The words rang hollow, devoid of any sincerity. Caelius, unamused, gave a faint, dismissive nod. To the guards, the brothers’ interaction appeared normal enough to ease their vigilance, even if only slightly.

It was a fleeting lapse.

In the blink of an eye, Caelius closed the distance between himself and the emperor.

“Thanks to you, I’ve been just fine,” he murmured.

With those words, an unfamiliar sound reverberated through the office.

“My greed for power is gone. My responsibilities have vanished as well.”

“Your Majesty!!!”

Caelius’s hand wrapped mercilessly around Azecresis’s throat. The emperor flailed his arms, desperately reaching for a dagger hidden in the desk, but it was futile. Instead, the blade ended up in Caelius’s hands.

Ending Azecresis’s life was no great challenge.

But Caelius hadn’t come for his brother’s life—he had come for the crown. That was why he had restrained himself until now.

In one swift motion, Caelius drew the sword from his waist and drove it through Azecresis’s chest. The golden energy meant to protect the emperor surged to repel the blow, but it wasn’t enough. Instead, the power made it harder for the guards to approach, trapping them in a futile standoff.

Twisting the blade deeper into his brother’s chest, Caelius smiled faintly. In his mind, he heard Aria’s voice.

“If… If I asked for it—could you give up the throne?”

“The grand duchy, the throne, everything. Could you cast aside your status and name and live in a quiet village in the south, far from anyone’s eyes…? Could you live like that?”

Caelius couldn’t live that way. In the past, power had been his reason for living—something that naturally belonged in his hands from the moment he was born. To lose it, to live without it, and to not try to reclaim it? That was impossible. At least, he had thought so.

As he looked into the startled golden eyes staring back at him, Caelius thought that everything had finally come to an end.

The once-peaceful office was now drenched in blood. The imperial seal, something Caelius had desperately coveted, lay on the floor, stained with crimson and rendered useless.

Azecresis’s wounds bled continuously with the power of the imperial bloodline, clearly trying to preserve him. But Caelius, too familiar with that same power, was unaffected. Unlike the knights who couldn’t even approach due to the golden aura, Caelius was able to strangle the life out of Azecresis with ease.

Even if the gods themselves punished him, Caelius felt he wouldn’t regret this decision. Watching the golden light fade from Azecresis’s body, Caelius thought quietly to himself.

“By now, Aria must be far from the capital.”

And when the light finally disappeared entirely, it was only natural that the next to feel the blade would be Caelius himself.

The knights, without hesitation, plunged their swords into his back. With multiple blades piercing him, Caelius couldn’t even scream—he could only collapse onto the floor.

He had known all along that killing Azecresis like this would mean his own death as well. That was why he had offered little resistance.

This was enough.

Aria had gained the complete freedom she so desperately wanted, and the man who had threatened her life—Azecresis—was gone. Caelius coughed violently, blood pouring from his lips.

Unlike Azecresis, who had shone like the sun until his final moments, Caelius had no one and nothing by his side.

It was a pitiful end.