Linia Took in a Child - Chapter 7: The Capital (6)

Edwin sat in silence, staring at the man before him. Seeing the regret etched into his father’s face left him with a tight, suffocating feeling in his chest.

“…There’s something I’ve been curious about for a long time,” Edwin said finally. “Are you really my biological father?”

Liam’s eyes widened slightly at the question.

“When I was taken to that underground prison as a child, I saw so many women and children,” Edwin continued, his voice calm but distant. “When I realized they were products of… forced breeding, I had to wonder.”

He paused, his gaze sharp. “Could it be that my grandfather is my real father? That you’re not even my father at all?”

It was a grotesque yet plausible thought—that Edwin might not be Liam’s son, but instead the product of his grandfather’s twisted experiments. Perhaps he was just one of many children born from the women imprisoned in the underground chamber, selected as the heir only because he had been born with the greatest magical power. Perhaps his birth was no different from the others—a tragedy rooted in exploitation and cruelty.

“…I never thought you might believe that,” Liam said softly.

For a moment, he looked down at the table, letting out a long, weary sigh. When he finally raised his eyes to his son, his gaze was filled with both warmth and sorrow.

“Edwin, I am your father. I can say that with absolute certainty. You are my one and only son, born out of love.”

Liam began recounting a story he had never shared before—a story about Edwin’s mother, one he had kept locked away for years.

“…Your mother was sold to this place, just like the other women in the underground chamber.”

Liam admitted that he had initially turned a blind eye to the horrors of the chamber. The very existence of the prison sickened him, and he had been too weak to confront it, choosing instead to avoid acknowledging it.

Then, one day, he met a woman who had escaped from being taken to his father’s bedroom. She was fleeing, desperate to avoid her fate.

Helping her meant incurring his father’s wrath and enduring a severe beating, but Liam couldn’t bring himself to abandon her. He hid her in his room for the night.

She didn’t speak the empire’s language, but through clumsy gestures, Liam managed to convey his intent to help. He brought her food and clothes, doing his best to make her feel safe.

The next day, he attempted to sneak her out of the mansion, but his father caught them.

When the escape failed, his father immediately decided to kill her, claiming she couldn’t be allowed to live after discovering the family’s secrets.

That was the first time Liam had ever stood up to his father. Though he had only known the woman for a day, he couldn’t bear to see her die. Perhaps it was his way of atoning for all the years he had turned a blind eye to the atrocities happening in the mansion. Trembling with fear, he begged his father to spare her life.

In response, his father beat him nearly to death. Mocking him coldly, his father accused him of falling in love with the woman after just one night, sneering that he could keep her if he wanted a mistress so badly.

Though humiliated and broken, Liam didn’t care. For the first time, he had protected someone. The relief of saving her outweighed the physical pain and shame.

After that, the woman was assigned as Liam’s personal maid. He feared she might despair at being trapped, but instead, she stayed by his side, tending to him as he recovered from his injuries. She didn’t shed tears for herself but worried only about him.

Over time, they grew close. Liam taught her the empire’s language, and in less than two years, she had learned to communicate fluently. She was incredibly intelligent, and for the first time in his life, Liam had someone with whom he could share his innermost thoughts.

She was as wounded as he was, but unlike him, she was resilient and determined to survive. Their mutual understanding soon deepened into love.

Though they couldn’t marry, Liam didn’t mind. All he wanted was to live quietly with her, free from his father’s tyranny.

But when their child was born, Liam realized that dream would never come true.

As soon as his father discovered that the baby possessed immense magical power, he tried to take both the woman and the child.

Liam, seeing the greedy, predatory look in his father’s eyes, resolved to help her escape.

“…I should have taken you with her that day. But I didn’t. I can’t tell you how sorry I am for separating you from her,” Liam said, his voice heavy with regret.

Fleeing with an infant would have been far too dangerous. His father’s true target was the child, the heir. If she had taken the baby, his father would have pursued her relentlessly.

Liam faked her death and helped her escape to a distant country, far beyond his father’s reach. To maintain the illusion, he had no choice but to stay behind with the child.

“After that, I had to keep her survival a secret, even from you. I had to protect her…”

Liam’s voice cracked. He couldn’t let her be dragged back into the hellish life she had barely escaped. He wanted her to live a new life, free from the horrors of the mansion.

He had hoped she would forget about him and the child, to find peace and happiness far away.

“I convinced myself that she was dead because thinking otherwise was too painful. Knowing I could never see her again… it was unbearable.”

Liam lowered his head, his hands trembling. He had tried to protect her, but in doing so, he had made himself believe she was truly gone. That was the only way he could survive the crushing guilt and sorrow of their separation.

Liam clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the veins on the back of his hands standing out like a map of his decades of regret. Twenty years had passed—two decades of silence, pain, and an unending ache in his chest whenever he thought of her. Even speaking about her now made it hard for him to breathe.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you this,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve been a terrible father, Edwin. I truly am sorry.”

Edwin said nothing. The weight of the revelations he had just heard felt overwhelming, leaving him unable to respond.

“I wouldn’t blame you for hating me,” Liam continued, his voice tinged with resignation. “I’ve been nothing but a failure…”

“Tell me my mother’s name,” Edwin interrupted suddenly.

Liam’s eyes widened slightly in surprise at the unexpected question. When he looked at his son, he found himself facing a gaze that was no longer indifferent but filled with a rare intensity. After a moment of hesitation, Liam’s lips curled into a faint smile.

“Her name was Sylvia,” he said softly. “She had silver hair and the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Liam looked at his son with a gentle expression, the room falling into a brief but meaningful silence. For the first time, it felt as though they were having an honest conversation, something they had never truly shared before.

“In truth… the name I gave you wasn’t originally ‘Edwin.’ That was a name your grandfather chose.” Liam’s voice grew quieter. “Your mother had chosen another name for you—”

Before he could finish, heavy footsteps echoed from outside the study. Both father and son tensed, their attention snapping toward the door.

Moments later, the door burst open with a thunderous crash, and armed knights poured into the room.

But as soon as they stepped in, they froze in place, their bodies locked as if paralyzed.

What followed was a series of grotesque sounds—bones snapping, armor crumpling, and muffled screams of pain. Edwin wielded his magic with precision, binding each knight’s body and eliminating them one by one.

By the time he reached the fifth knight, sweat was dripping from his temples, and his breath had grown shallow. His magic reserves were running dangerously low.

The remaining knights hesitated for a moment at the horrifying sight but soon steeled themselves, tightening their grips on their swords before charging at Edwin.

Edwin lashed out with a final surge of magic, a blade-like force slicing through three of them. Though severely injured, the knights weren’t killed outright.

One of them, missing an arm, lunged forward and drove his sword into Edwin’s shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Edwin had no choice but to draw upon every last ounce of his magic.

The pristine marble floor of the study was soon stained with crimson pools of blood. Standing amidst the carnage, Edwin clutched his bleeding shoulder, his breathing ragged. He had only killed nine knights, yet his body was already nearing its limit.

“Edwin, you need to treat your wounds—” Liam’s pale, stricken face came into view as he called out to his son.

Edwin turned to look at him, taking in the fear and helplessness etched into his father’s features.

The hallway outside was undoubtedly teeming with more knights, and the mansion was likely surrounded by the entire order. There was no escape.

But Edwin couldn’t stay. If he remained here, both Linia and Liam would inevitably be caught in the crossfire.

Hearing more footsteps approaching, Edwin grabbed a fallen sword from the ground and stepped toward the window. As the knights began to breach the study, he moved swiftly, placing the blade against Liam’s neck.

“Stop!” one of the knights shouted. “The Duke of Schufenhart has been taken hostage!”

The advancing knights froze, their weapons poised but unmoving.

“Edwin Schufenhart!” one of them bellowed. “You’ve already killed your grandfather, and now you would murder your own father?”

Edwin ignored the accusations, his face impassive as he pressed the blade against Liam’s skin. A thin line of blood appeared where the blade touched.

“Edwin…” Liam’s voice trembled.

“Pretend to be a hostage if you want to help me,” Edwin murmured, his voice so low that only Liam could hear.

There had been a time when Edwin had wanted to erase this family from existence, to burn everything associated with the Schufenhart name to the ground. On the day he killed his grandfather, he had nearly done just that.

But then he had seen Liam’s face—pale and stricken, watching helplessly. At that moment, Edwin couldn’t bring himself to destroy everything. All he could do was run.

He remembered the hands that had applied ointment to his wounds in the dark corners of the mansion’s underground chambers. He had pretended not to notice those small, quiet acts of care, too consumed by anger and resentment toward a father who hadn’t protected him.

For years, he had wondered if Liam was even truly his father. But now, he realized that while he had hated Liam, he had never truly despised him.

“…In my room,” Edwin said quietly, “Linia is there. Protect her.”

Liam didn’t reply, but Edwin could feel the faint trembling of his body where the blade touched his neck. He wondered if Liam’s trembling was from fear or from frustration at being unable to do anything, even now.

“…Father, please.”

Edwin, for the first time in his life, had asked something of his father as a son. After uttering those final words, he let the sword fall from his hand and leapt out of the window.

As expected, knights were stationed at the mansion’s main entrance. Edwin avoided them, slipping through the back garden to escape into the forest. Blood continued to pour from his shoulder wound, but he didn’t stop running.

The forest, shrouded in darkness as night fell, was eerily quiet. Breathless and weak, Edwin collapsed against a tree trunk, clutching his injured shoulder. He planned to hide here until his body recovered, buying himself some time.

But his rest was short-lived. A sudden sound shattered the silence—an arrow thudded into the tree beside him. His pursuers had found him.

Forcing himself to his feet, Edwin began to run again, deeper into the forest. The farther he went, the more he felt like he was being herded. When he realized what was happening, it was already too late.

“…Ugh!”

Another arrow struck him, this time piercing straight through his already-injured shoulder. The pain was excruciating, and the thought that the arrow might be poisoned crossed his mind. Gritting his teeth, Edwin yanked the arrow out, fresh blood spilling onto the ground in a crimson stream.

At that moment, he sensed the presence of magic. A massive magic circle activated beneath his feet, its glowing runes illuminating the dark forest. Far-off mana stones, hidden in the shadows, began to light up one by one, forming the boundaries of the trap.

“……”

Edwin felt his magic being cut off, his connection to it severed. The sound of galloping hooves drew closer, and he raised his head to see figures approaching rapidly. Among them was someone he recognized—a face he could never forget.

“…What did you do to my apprentice?”

Hilton dismounted from his horse and stepped into the glowing magic circle, his sharp eyes filled with rage as they bore into Edwin. The old mage’s voice was low and seething, trembling with grief and fury.

“I’ll ask you one last time, Edwin. Did you kill my apprentice?”

Edwin remained silent. The realization hit him—this entire situation, the knights, the trap—it had all been a lure, carefully orchestrated to corner him. Staring at the mage, Edwin couldn’t suppress the hollow laugh that escaped him.

So this is wisdom born of experience… he thought bitterly. His defeat was absolute.

A moment later, a middle-aged man in black armor emerged from behind Hilton, unsheathing his sword. The knights closed in on Edwin, seizing him and forcing him to his knees.

Before he could react, the armored man drove his blade into Edwin’s right chest. Pain exploded through his body as blood spilled from the wound. When the blade was pulled out, Edwin collapsed forward, choking on the warm blood that gushed into his mouth.

He waited, expecting the next blow to pierce his heart or sever his neck.

“…You’ll pay for your sins slowly,” Hilton said, his voice dripping with venom. “You’ll die a long, painful death.”

It was then that Edwin understood why they hadn’t killed him outright. This wasn’t an execution—it was retribution.

As flames began to engulf the forest, the knights and mages mounted their horses and retreated. The magic circle ensured that Edwin was trapped, surrounded by the roaring inferno.

The searing heat and thick smoke filled the air as the fire spread rapidly, consuming the forest. Struggling to breathe, Edwin let out a ragged exhale, his vision darkening. His consciousness began to fade, like falling into a deep, endless void.

When Edwin’s eyes fluttered open again, he saw something—a faint glow in the distance. As his vision cleared, the light grew brighter, and he realized the light was coming from himself.

Beyond the light stood Linia. Her green eyes, filled with worry and kindness, met his, and for a moment, he thought of the first time he’d seen her. She had looked at him with that same gaze back then.

This must be a hallucination, Edwin thought. A desperate vision conjured by my mind because I wanted to see her so badly.

But as more time passed, the pain in his chest became sharper, more vivid. His senses returned to him, and he realized that a warm hand was pressed against his wound.

Linia was pouring her divine power into him.

How she had found him, he didn’t know. His eyes flickered to the ground and saw the compass he had given her lying nearby.

Did she come to me as soon as she woke up? For a moment, Edwin couldn’t think of anything to say.

Then, another thought struck him—a thought that filled him with frustration. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. She shouldn’t have come back here.

Edwin forced himself to speak, his voice raspy and weak.

“Leave… You’ll burn… to death… Get away… Leave me…”

His words were slurred, his throat thick with blood. The earth beneath him trembled as trees fell, their trunks consumed by the relentless fire. Despite the unbearable pain, Edwin managed to lift his head, looking at Linia’s face with a mix of anger and desperation.

The intense heat of the flames creeping ever closer was now unbearable. Edwin could feel the fire licking at the edges of his consciousness, the searing pain pressing against his very soul. If they stayed any longer, both he and Linia would die. She wouldn’t even have the time to heal his wounds before the fire consumed her as well.

“Run… please… now…” he rasped, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames.

“…No.”

Her trembling voice reached him, soft yet resolute. It wasn’t until Edwin felt the wetness against his cheek that he realized she was crying.

“You promised… we’d see more together,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

Edwin fell silent. He couldn’t respond, the weight of her words leaving him breathless. It was the promise he had made to her by the sea—the promise to show her more of the world, to see it all together. A promise that, deep down, he had wanted to fulfill as much as she did.

“…You said we’d go together, Ruin…”

When she called him by that name—Ruin—it felt like a plea that cut through his soul. She made him feel like someone he wasn’t: not a cursed and hated murderer, but someone deserving of love.

Thanks to her, he had come to understand what love was.

But she… she didn’t need him. She could have gone on without him, found her peace and freedom elsewhere. Yet here she was, standing by him, refusing to leave.

He didn’t understand why.

And he hated it.

This wasn’t what he wanted. Watching her willingly throw her life away, choosing to die by his side, felt like punishment—a punishment far more painful than the flames consuming them.

The forest around them was crumbling, burning to ashes as the flames grew higher and closer. Their escape was long since cut off, and now the fire began to rise behind her. Edwin clenched his jaw, coughing up blood as he forced himself to stand.

Gathering what strength he had left, he pulled Linia into his arms.

A moment later, he felt the fabric of his clothes catch fire, the searing pain spreading across his skin. His flesh burned as if being eaten alive by the fire, the unbearable agony dragging him back to the torment he had endured in his youth.

It was the same pain he had grown so sick of feeling. The same pain that he had sworn he would never endure again.

But this time, he told himself, he could bear it. He would endure it if it meant protecting her. If his body turned to ash, so be it—as long as she was safe.

Edwin closed his eyes, holding her tightly, shielding her from the flames with every fiber of his being. Even in his final moments, as death closed in around him, he refused to let her go.