Episode 270: Nephew (2)
The word “uncle” kept echoing in Damien’s mind, leaving him utterly bewildered.
So taken aback was he that he couldn’t form a single coherent thought.
“Hahaha! Damien, you look like you can’t believe it either! I felt the same way at first,” his father chuckled heartily.
“Now that it’s out in the open, I should go check on Louise. I hope she doesn’t need anything!” With that, his father dashed out of the drawing room.
“Come on, let’s go see Louise,” his mother said, taking Damien by the hand. He protested, flustered.
“Wait, Mother, just a moment. I need time to think…”
“Look at you! Are you the one who’s pregnant?” she teased, her grip surprisingly firm as she led him to Louise’s room.
Inside, Louise lay on the bed, with her husband, Ballad, seated beside her.
“Oh, Damien! You’re back!” Louise exclaimed, sitting up as soon as she saw him. Damien hurried to stop her.
“Why are you getting up? Is something wrong with your health…?”
“The doctor advised me to rest during the early stages of pregnancy, so I’m just lying down for a bit. No need to worry,” Ballad explained, and Damien felt a wave of relief.
“Damien, was your journey tiring? Are you hurt anywhere?” Louise asked, holding his hand. He assured her he was fine.
“Sister… I heard… Congratulations,” he managed to say, and Louise beamed at him.
“Thank you for the congratulations. You’re the best brother.”
Damien found himself at a loss for words. She would never know, he thought, that he didn’t deserve her gratitude.
In a past life, Damien had been the one to destroy his family, robbing them of happiness and a future. All he had done was restore what they rightfully deserved. He wasn’t worthy of thanks.
Yet, for some reason, his eyes welled up. His throat tightened, and he couldn’t speak.
“Damien? Why are you crying?” Louise asked, surprised. Damien covered his eyes with his hand.
“It’s nothing…”
“Are you that happy to become an uncle? Still, you should stop crying. A man shouldn’t shed tears so easily,” Louise said, wiping his tears with her thumb.
But once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop.
“Really, crying over something like this?” came a familiar voice. Damien turned his head.
In the corner of the room sat a young woman, munching on jerky—Veronica Sanchez, the rogue spirit.
Seeing her, Damien’s tears abruptly ceased, replaced by sheer disbelief.
“What are you doing here?”
“Your mother insisted I stay.”
“Mother?”
Damien was incredulous. How long had she been here to be on such familiar terms?
“And you actually stayed?”
“The food was delicious.”
“What nonsense…”
“Did you really enjoy it that much, Benny?” his mother interjected, looking delighted. Damien was taken aback once more.
Benny? They were on nickname terms now?
“I don’t give false compliments. Everything she made was delicious.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. Is there anything else you’d like to eat? Just let me know.”
“I’d love to have that pumpkin pie again.”
“Alright, we’ll have it for dessert today.”
Veronica’s face lit up with joy.
“Mother, when did you get so close to her?”
“Don’t call her ‘her.’ You have nothing nice to say about our Benny.”
Every time he heard “Benny,” Damien felt a shiver run down his spine.
“I always wished for another daughter. I never imagined it would come true like this.”
Damien was speechless. Veronica Sanchez, the woman obsessed with murder, as a daughter?
“By the way, I chased away the wolves in the forest as you asked, Mother.”
“Oh, thank you. The townspeople were anxious because of them.”
The most astonishing thing was how Veronica had become so obedient to his mother.
“Forget it,” Damien decided to think no more of it.
That evening, Damien enjoyed a rare meal with his family.
“Brother! You were gone for so long and only sent a single letter! That’s too much!” Abel, his younger brother, complained after returning from inspecting the estate.
“You’re busy too,” Olivier defended Damien, though Abel’s expression remained sour.
“Yes, your brother is a busy man. But he’s back safe, so let it go,” their father chimed in, siding with Damien.
“I just wish you’d sent letters more often…”
Listening to Abel’s grumbling, Damien savored the meal his mother had prepared.
Now that he was a grand noble, he could have left cooking to the servants without issue. But Lady Haxen insisted on cooking herself, saying it was her joy, and Damien no longer tried to dissuade her.
“Damien, come see me for a moment,” his father called after dinner.
Damien popped the last bite of pumpkin pie into his mouth and followed his father outside.
“The night air is refreshing, isn’t it?” his father remarked, gazing at the sky. The cool breeze was indeed pleasant.
“Your mother outdid herself. I haven’t eaten so well in a while,” his father said, patting his stomach contentedly.
“Aren’t you going to ask what I’ve been up to?” Damien inquired.
“I want to,” his father replied calmly. “But you don’t plan on telling me, do you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. At your age, it’s normal to have a few secrets from your family. I did too.”
His father’s voice was reassuringly sincere.
“But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry,” his father said, turning to Damien.
“Promise me one thing, Damien. Promise you’ll never do anything dangerous and that you’ll always come back safely.”
For a moment, Damien couldn’t speak. His father urged him on.
“You don’t want to promise, do you?”
“No, I promise. I’ll come back safely.”
“Make sure you do.”
His father patted Damien’s shoulder and returned to the castle.
Left alone, Damien looked up at the sky.
“A nephew…”
It was something that hadn’t existed in his past life. His actions had changed the future.
Perhaps that’s why, no matter how much time passed, it felt unreal.
“Being my sister’s child, they’ll surely be smart and adorable.”
The more he thought about his future nephew, the more his heart swelled.
Happiness. Joy. Words couldn’t capture the bright emotions welling up inside him.
He wished these days could last forever.
But Damien knew it was too soon to dream of happiness.
“Dorgo.”
Just saying the name made his blood boil, his chest tight with frustration.
Damien gripped his shoulders with both hands, hard enough to draw blood.
It was the only way to suppress his rage.
“I haven’t killed him yet.”
As long as Dorgo and Pandemonium remained, Damien couldn’t dream of happiness.
He was anxious, scared, and terrified.
If he made a mistake, the happiness he’d fought for would vanish.
His family would die again, mocked by dark sorcerers.
Even his unborn nephew would lose their life, facing a gruesome fate.
“Kilo.”
Damien called softly, and Kilo and the dwarves emerged from his shadow.
-You called?
“I have a task for you.”
-Just say the word. We’ll follow any command.
“From today, start fortifying this castle.”
Kilo’s eyes gleamed at the word “fortify.”
-Oh, fortify… To what extent?
“I want the best. Turn it into an impregnable fortress against any enemy.”
-An interesting request. Don’t worry. We’ll use all the skills of the Bissalhammer dwarves to fortify it.
Kilo flexed his hands, eager to get started.
“And one more thing, do it without the residents knowing.”
-Huh? Why add such a bothersome condition?
“To keep my family from worrying.”
Suddenly enhancing the castle’s defenses would likely alarm his family.
And explaining the presence of dwarf spirits to them would be difficult.
“This is just a precaution. I don’t intend to let any enemies set foot in the castle.”
-If you say so, we’ll do it. We’ll start today, so hand it over.
At Kilo’s request, Damien retrieved two items from his dimensional space.
They looked like miniature buildings.
But they weren’t models; they were actual buildings.
They were the dwarves’ facilities and storage, shrunk down.
It was a technique of the dwarves, prepared long ago for portability in case they had to leave the city.
“Don’t worry, I’ve gathered all the materials left in the city. We’ll transform this place into something even a master class would envy.”
Kilo said as he received the supplies.
“Alright, everyone! It’s time to get to work! We’re all dead anyway, so let’s work like there’s no tomorrow!”
At Kilo’s words, the dwarves erupted in cheers.
Even in death, they were still dwarves, unable to abandon their artisan spirit.
The dwarves disappeared, leaving Demian behind.
Left alone once more, Demian gazed up at the night sky.
“Maybe I should think about a gift for my nephew.”
The thought suddenly crossed his mind, filling a corner of his heart with warmth.
But Demian’s wish was not to be fulfilled.
“Demian, I’m sorry to come to you so urgently.”
It was Agnes, the first disciple of Cheongyeom.
Demian had no choice but to pause his card game with Abel to greet her.
“Pandemonium has conducted a large-scale demon summoning ritual in the Kingdom of Tart.”
At those words, Demian felt the blood in his veins turn cold.
This was something that hadn’t happened in his previous life. The future had changed once again.
But there was more shocking news.
“Cheongyeom left to deal with the situation and has gone missing.”