Reborn As Papa Silva

Castle Gate:

"Where are the two of you going?" A Mage Warrior Sentry glanced down at the two women waiting at the exit. His tone was polite, more so than usual, since he recognized them immediately. As a sentry, he was required to monitor and record the comings and goings through the gate, but it was rare for someone of their stature to pass through.

Before him stood a young woman and a young lady: Lana, newly known as Lana Wholmat after her marriage to Adjutant General Lotus, and Dominante Code.

I'd better show some courtesy, the sentry thought, wary of inadvertently offending Lotus's wife. He also didn't want to risk alienating Dominante Code, known for her impressive magic tool craftsmanship. Besides, there were rumors swirling that something was going on between her and Lieutenant Fanzell, one of the kingdom's most promising Mage Warriors. For a low-ranking sentry like him, maintaining connections with valuable figures like these two was crucial; a demotion back to the mines would be disastrous. So, he asked patiently, knowing he wasn't about to prevent them from leaving—just needing an excuse for his records, in case anyone asked.

Lana offered him a gentle smile. "My husband came back rather injured and roughed up. I'm hoping to try my luck in the forest, maybe find some herbs or game, so I can make him a welcome-home dinner."

The sentry nodded; he was the one who'd opened the gate for Lotus and Fanzell, and the bloody state they'd been in still lingered in his mind. Lana's reason made sense—any devoted wife would want to do something special for her husband after an ordeal like that. He then turned to Dominante.

She looked up, her cheeks flushing slightly as she rubbed her arm before responding. "I want to do something special for Fanzell too."

The sentry blinked in surprise. So, the rumor isn't just a rumor, he thought, his mood dipping slightly. Everyone but me seems to have luck with the ladies—what am I doing wrong? But he masked his reaction, forcing a bright smile as he signaled for the drawbridge to lower.

"Be careful, Mrs. Wholmat, and Mrs. Kruger," he said courteously. "It's nighttime, and some of the forest creatures may be more active. Do you need an escort?"

Lana gave a polite shake of her head. "No, we can manage ourselves." Dominante, on the other hand, blushed a deep shade of red at the formal address.

Without further words, the two women walked out of the castle side by side. As they disappeared into the distance, the sentry raised the drawbridge and looked away.

He didn't notice, however, that as soon as he averted his gaze, Lana and Dominante veered in the opposite direction of the forest, heading south—incidentally, or perhaps not, in the direction of the Clover Kingdom.

Diamond Laboratory: 

Lackey A and B walked briskly through the dimly lit, grimy corridors of the underground laboratory, winding through several passages until they reached Block C. They stopped before a set of imposing twin doors, each topped with a red alarm light. Without a word, Lackey B began channeling his magic, tracing a runic-like code in the air.

As the final stroke of the rune faded, the red light blinked to green, and the doors whirred open. The lackeys stepped inside, and as the doors sealed shut behind them, neither noticed the faint droplets of water clinging invisibly to their clothes, leaving no stains or traces. [1]

Inside, about fifteen children of varying ages, none older than five, were busily occupied. All wore identical white t-shirts and shorts as they ran around performing different tasks. Some were hunched over books, tackling math and science problems far beyond not only their age but the knowledge of this era. Others were sparring physically, practicing spells on target dummies, or exercising. Still others were locked in intense discussions, debating how to better serve the Diamond Kingdom.

The room buzzed with productivity, and the children made sure every effort was visible as the lackeys entered—none of them wanted to risk another round of "reeducation."

All except one. The droplets on Lackey A and B's clothing drifted upward, coalescing into a small, transparent ball of water that hovered in the air, observing the scene below. It zoomed in on a small crib tucked in the corner, occupied by a squirming baby who looked no older than Noelle.

The water ball trembled, flickering with fury. Damnit, Morris—an infant? What the hell is wrong with you?

It floated closer to the crib, examining the child with a mix of curiosity and dread. She had black hair, and as she blinked up at the floating sphere, her eyes flashed a striking pink. The water orb drifted around, taking in every detail, until it noticed a small tag tied to the baby's wrist. The name written there made its fury pause.

Mariella.

What a small world, the water orb thought, its anger replaced by a surge of recognition as it lingered, studying the tiny child.

The water orb took one last look at the baby before shifting its attention to the other children. Its gaze lingered on a pair: a girl with pink hair and a boy with light purple hair. Then, with purpose, it sank down into the cracks between the cobblestones, moving along the floor until it re-emerged near the unsuspecting Lackey A.

Without a second thought, the water orb shot straight into Lackey A's ear, spreading itself throughout his entire body. It seeped into his bones, blood, organs, nerves, muscles, skin, and brain, merging completely with every part of him. Water Magic: Liquid Parasite. [2]

Lackey B turned around just as his partner stiffened, lowering his head and sinking to one knee. Concerned, Lackey B placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man, you alright?" Noticing some of the children glancing curiously in their direction, he quickly turned to shoo them off.

"What are you staring at?! Get back to work! Or do you want me to report your slacking to Master Libardirt?" The children immediately resumed their tasks, but Lackey B didn't notice the slight, cloudy haze that glazed over his partner's eyes under his hood. When they cleared, Lackey A's pupils held a barely noticeable hint of blue.

Lackey A stood up, scratching his head sheepishly, speaking in his usual voice and manner. "Sorry, I just had a stomach ache."

Lackey B sighed in relief, patting his friend's shoulder before frowning in mild annoyance. "I told you not to eat that stale bread! Even if money's tight, we can still afford edible food."

Lackey A rubbed the back of his head with a guilty grin. "Sorry, sorry! I was just really hungry. Won't happen again."

"Tsk. This guy," Lackey B muttered, shaking his head. He gestured toward the back. "Well, hurry up and take care of your business in the washroom before Master gets back."

"Will do, will do." Lackey A nodded eagerly and made his way to the crooked wooden door. He wrinkled his nose at the stench wafting from within, the sight of filthy stains on the makeshift toilet hardly helping matters. Thank god I transmigrated as a rich guy with a private powder room.

Once inside, he took a careful look around for any potential spying spots—hidden vents, small holes, anything that could conceal cameras or magical surveillance runes. Knowing Morris, he'd probably have something set up.

When he sensed no mana and found nothing out of the ordinary, Lackey A let out a sigh of relief. Seems like even Morris has his limits when it comes to privacy. He raised his right hand, unfurling his palm as it began to shift, turning fluid like water. A small object floated out from it—a magical communication device. His hand solidified again as he grasped the device and brought it close to his mouth.

The gem embedded in its head glowed faintly as Lackey A whispered in a voice entirely different from his own, one unmistakably identical to a certain Silva patriarch. "How much longer are you going to keep me waiting?"

The glow of the gem faded as the communication device sank back into his hand, disappearing like a stone dropped into water. Once his hand solidified, Lackey A waited, watching and listening intently.

After a moment, his shadow stretched behind him, and two figures emerged from it—Draven and Lilith Faust.

Lackey A noticed their complete indifference to the foul surroundings, and he felt a bit impressed. Well, with their line of work, they're probably no strangers to the smell of rot and filth.

Unlike the Secret Order's Masked, neither of them bothered with disguises; with their magic, they didn't need to. No one would notice them anyway.

Without a word, Draven and Lilith entered devil union, shadows cloaking their figures. They gave Lackey A an indifferent nod as he turned and opened the door.

Lackey B glanced over at him, oblivious to the two standing right behind. "Done already? Quit messing around and go finish up."

Just as he pointed back at the washroom, Lilith snapped her fingers, releasing an invisible gas that seeped into Lackey B's and the children's skin. Within seconds, their eyes glazed over as they lined up mechanically behind the door.

Lackey B lifted Mariella from her crib, robotically handing her off to Mars before opening the door. He then wordlessly led the children out in a neat, trance-like line.

Lackey A turned to Draven and Lilith. "Won't they be noticed?"

Lilith shook her head. "I cloaked them in an illusion spell; they'll only be visible to the naked eye, and no detection devices should pick them up."

Lackey A nodded, understanding. Makes sense—there's no electricity here; everything runs on mana and magic crystals. Morris's tech should be no different, so Lilith's illusions should fool it.

As they followed the line outside, they reached a split in the hallways. Lackey A pointed down the opposite path from where Lackey B was leading the children.

"Your compensation and gift are that way. Make sure to clean up properly."

"You don't need to tell us twice," Draven replied coolly as he and Lilith strode off in the indicated direction.

Watching them go, Lackey A sighed. Consider it an apology for what I put Nacht through. He fell in at the end of the line, following the others.

With Lackey B leading, the children in the middle, and himself at the rear, Lackey A felt a strange sense of nostalgia. It's like a kindergarten lineup—the teacher in front, kids in the middle, and the teacher's assistant bringing up the rear.

My teacher used to call it the "class train." He blinked, amused. This is supposed to be a high-stakes mission. Why does it feel like a field trip where the teacher's leading everyone to an assembly?

When you have competent allies, everything becomes more manageable—and almost comically easy.

Lab Prison Cells:

In the lab's prison cells, Lotus and Fanzell sat silently, their arms restrained by mana-binding shackles as they waited for their rescue. Their heads snapped up at the sound of footsteps, and through the small holes in the prison bars, they saw a bizarre sight.

In front of them was a neat line of children—those who should have been confined to Block C—standing in formation with one of the lackeys who had taken their grimoire satchels at the head of the line.

"Mars? Fana?" Fanzell's voice held a mix of disbelief and confusion. He'd been expecting to save them, not the other way around. But the two children didn't respond.

Lotus and Fanzell quickly noticed that the children, along with Lackey B, seemed vacant and oddly stiff. Then Lackey A appeared in front of them, looking surprisingly alert and focused compared to the others.

When he opened his mouth to speak, they recognized a familiar, emotionless voice. "It's me."

"Blue Eagle?" Lotus asked, his tone uncertain. Is he using transformation magic to disguise himself? It's so accurate; I don't see any difference. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if the real Lackey A had been "dealt" with. Although Lotus had chosen to defect from Diamond, he wasn't interested in senseless bloodshed.

Lackey A—or rather, Blue Eagle—nodded. Fanzell gestured to the children and Lackey B behind him, asking, "What's going on with them?"

"They've been put in a trance to keep them compliant," Blue Eagle replied indifferently. "Panicked children would only complicate the mission. The effect will wear off in about two hours, so you need to leave now."

Fanzell and Lotus shared a tense look. Blue Eagle has water magic; he shouldn't be able to put someone into a trance. Gray Wolf and Green Owl aren't even part of this mission... Does this mean the Secret Order has infiltrated Diamond and has insiders here? Suddenly, it made sense how they'd learned about their experiments.

Interrupting their thoughts, keys floated out from Blue Eagle's body, which shimmered like water before solidifying again. Without a word, he unlocked the prison door and tossed the shackles' keys to them. They caught them, quickly freeing themselves and rubbing their sore wrists.

Blue Eagle's form rippled once more, and their grimoire satchels appeared, launching toward them. Catching them roughly, Lotus inspected his satchel, relieved to find his grimoire still inside. What spell was that? Has his water magic taken on spatial properties? Is this what it means to be a Masked?

They were about to exit the prison when they watched Blue Eagle grab Lackey B by the throat. Lackey B didn't react as steam rose from Blue Eagle's arm, and they witnessed a chilling scene—Lackey B's body dried up, shriveling and flaking away into a pile of bloody dust.

Lotus and Fanzell felt sick. They'd never seen such a grim death, and the lack of reaction from Lackey B and the children made it even more disturbing. They glanced at Blue Eagle, still disguised as Lackey A, and shared a grim realization. Did the real Lackey A meet the same fate?

They pushed the unsettling thought aside; Lackey B had seen them and had to be dealt with, and at least his end seemed painless.

Blue Eagle nodded approvingly and spoke in his usual robotic tone. "Glad to see neither of you is trying to play a heroic fool or lecture me on ethics."

The two exchanged a grim look before Lotus responded, his tone self-deprecating. "It'd be hypocritical for two soldiers like us to talk about morals and atrocities."

"Good." Blue Eagle nodded again, a slight edge to his voice. "Because what I hate most in life are hypocrites."

After a brief silence, Blue Eagle's emotionless tone broke through, pointing down the hallway. "This leads to an abandoned tunnel Morris uses to secretly transfer experimental materials that Diamond's general population isn't meant to see."

Lotus and Fanzell exchanged a knowing look; they'd overseen many of these secretive deliveries in the past. It was something they'd wanted no part of, but Morris took twisted pleasure in forcing them to comply with his unethical operations.

However, their curiosity couldn't be held back. Lotus ventured a question, "How do you know that?" Has he already mapped out the entire lab, or did someone inform him?

Blue Eagle's cold gaze made Lotus lower his head. "None of your concern, Whomalt," he replied, though he kept his real answer hidden: I can't exactly tell you I'm a parasite that reads others' memories, can I?

Lotus mumbled an apology, which Fanzell quickly echoed. Blue Eagle dismissed the issue and turned, dashing down the hallway with the children obediently following behind him at a brisk pace.

"Come on," he urged, his voice echoing back to Lotus and Fanzell, who picked up their pace. The children, physically trained under Fanzell, kept up surprisingly well despite their age, with the illusion magic shielding them from mental fatigue. If any child lagged behind, Fanzell, Lotus, or Blue Eagle would scoop them up without a word.

After several minutes, they reached the end of the hall, facing a single Mage Warrior guarding the exit. Before the guard could react, a concentrated water beam tore through his chest, ending his life instantly. Blue Eagle nudged the body aside and opened the door, revealing a dimly lit mine, bathed in faint moonlight filtering through small cracks above.

Blue Eagle's gaze shifted to Fana, the pink-haired girl, who raised her hand with a robotic motion, summoning small flickers of fire that illuminated their path.

He set down the child in his arms and gave Lotus a nod. Catching the signal, Lotus summoned his grimoire, casting Smoke Creation Magic: Bustling Lazy Vehicle. A fluffy, cloud-like cart materialized, and the children, still entranced, climbed aboard. As Lotus and Fanzell began to board, they noticed Blue Eagle staying behind.

"Aren't you coming with us?" Fanzell asked, looking puzzled.

Blue Eagle shook his head. "I have other tasks. Follow this path, find your lovers, and seek refuge in the Clover Kingdom's Kiten. When the time is right, we'll meet again."

Fanzell blushed slightly at the mention of Dominante, earning a chuckle from Lotus, who then nodded to Blue Eagle. "Thank you… for everything," he said softly, sincere.

Blue Eagle gave an indifferent nod as the cart drifted off into the shadows. Watching them disappear into the night, he let out a quiet sigh.

Time to go home. He turned his gaze back toward the lab one last time before his body dissolved into droplets, seeping through the cracks in the mine.

Once outside, he reformed, and his watery form produced a broom, which he mounted. Under the cover of night, he soared swiftly toward the Clover Kingdom, the lab fading into the distance behind him.

Operation Wing:

Morris strode into his main base of operations, practically buzzing with excitement. Though he was supposedly blind, his senses swept effortlessly over the room. His assistant was prepping the operating tables and calibrating the machines, while several Mage Warriors stood guard along the walls. The blindness was no hindrance; thanks to his modification magic, Morris had long compensated for that limitation. It was the same magic he used to manipulate the King's mind, making himself the true power behind the Diamond Kingdom.

At last, Morris clenched his fist in anticipation, I'll finally be rid of those two fools.

He sneered, reflecting on Fanzell's misguided idea that Morris's interference was driven by a petty grudge from childhood. Fool, he thought. I knew all along they secretly opposed my methods, looking for a way to drag me down.

Though he held enough influence to eliminate them directly, Morris knew the Shining Generals wouldn't tolerate him casually disposing of anyone in his way without valid cause. If he started down that path too soon, it would signal to them that they could easily be next, and even the most submissive of the generals wouldn't stand for it. United, they could pose a significant threat before his experiments were complete. Better to be cautious, he mused, until my work is done, and I can replace them with loyal subordinates who'll obey me without question.

Morris's mood lifted again. Soon, he'd be rid of two thorns in his side. With them out of the way, he could freely conduct his experiments on the witch. And now he had three new targets for future research as well. I'll need to prioritize capturing that Masked Trio—Body, Bones, and Blood. They're the key to my next breakthrough, I can feel it.

As he thought this, a subtle sense of unease crept in, furrowing his brow. Something's missing, he realized, after a brief moment, Morris shook his head, dismissing the nagging feeling. No matter, I'll figure that out in the future.

But just as he snapped out of his thoughts, a wave of shock hit him. His pupils dilated as he surveyed the room. The once-bustling lab, filled with equipment, monitors, tools, research papers, and assistants, was now completely empty. The only figures left were him and his guards.

Morris snapped his head toward the guards, who stood eerily still, their eyes glazed over in a way that reminded him of how Edelstein looked when under his control.

Without hesitation, he strode toward one of them and slapped him across the face. "Snap out of it, you fool! Where did everyone go?!"

The Mage Warrior didn't respond; instead, he slumped forward and crumpled to the ground at Morris's feet. And it wasn't just him. Morris turned and watched in growing horror as the other guards slumped over, one by one, and then their grimoires began to dematerialize, vanishing from existence.

"What…?!" Morris stumbled back, feeling his pulse hammer as sweat beaded on his forehead. They're all dead? A spark of panic flared in him. For as much as passionate scholars craved knowledge, nothing struck dread into their hearts like the unknown—and this was a completely unprecedented and unpredictable event. Just as he tried to steady his racing heart, the doors to his lab burst open, revealing a familiar, burly figure flanked by several Mage Warriors.

"Broccos!" For the first time in his life, Morris felt a surge of relief at seeing the muscle-bound warrior. "Quick, Broccos! Lock down the facility; there's been an intruder! I want every single person accounted for—"

"Morris Libardit!" Broccos's sharp voice cut him off, his mana flaring as he stalked forward with an unsettling grin.

Morris felt his relief turn to dread. He tried to backpedal, but Broccos was on him before he could take another step, clamping a broad hand down on his shoulder and forcing him to his knees. Morris struggled, but their difference in strength was laughable, and to his horror, he realized he couldn't even channel his magic.

He glanced at Broccos's hand and saw the gleam of a brace glove. A mana suppression glove?! Morris's eyes widened. That's my invention… and he's using it against me!

"Argh!" He let out a strangled yell as pain shot through his shoulder, the bone grinding under Broccos's unrelenting grip. Glaring up with bloodshot eyes, he spat, "Broccos, who the hell do you think you are? Do you have a death wish—"

"Morris Libardit," Broccos interrupted coldly. "You are hereby under arrest for a list of crimes too long to recite, with treason and attempting to turn the Diamond Kingdom into a protectorate as your most serious offenses."

"What?!" Morris bit back the pain long enough to sneer and spit in Broccos's face. "How dare you say such a thing, you ignorant oaf! I am His Majesty's advisor, everything I do is in his name. Unhand me this instant, or face the consequences!"

He expected Broccos to falter, maybe even release him. Instead, the warrior only smiled wider, leaning down until his face was dangerously close. Then, with an unsettling whisper, he said, "All of this is His Majesty's will."

Morris's pupils dilated in shock, but before he could muster a response, Broccos reached into his satchel, pulling out a padlock communication device and flipping it open.

Morris's eyes went wide as he saw the figure on the other side. Edelstein F. Diamondhart—who was supposed to be absentmindedly lounging on his throne—was standing, supported by one of his Generals, and pointing directly at Morris with a fury that seemed to transcend his frail, sickly state.

"M-Morris Libardit…" Edelstein's voice was barely a whisper, each word seething with rage. "D-did you ever think you'd see this day?!"

"How?" Morris stammered. How?! How did you break free of my spell, my control?

Edelstein let out a haunting laugh that sent a chill through Morris. With his emaciated frame and translucent skin stretched taut over his bones, Edelstein looked more like a specter than a king.

"I don't know how…" Edelstein rasped, each breath labored, "but I do know exactly what I'm going to do to you!"

Morris swallowed hard, gritting his teeth in pain as Broccos grabbed his head, forcing him to lock eyes with the Diamond King, who continued in a low, venomous tone.

"I'm not going to kill you. I'm not even going to lock you up—that would be too easy. No, you know what I'm going to do?" Edelstein's gaze darkened, and Broccos tightened his grip, demanding a response from the so-called intellectual.

"Wh—what?" Morris croaked, and when Broccos squeezed harder, he scrambled to correct himself, "I-I mean… what, Your Majesty?"

A sinister grin spread across Edelstein's face. "I'm going to have you continue your experiments." Morris felt an icy fear crawl up his spine as Edelstein's eyes gleamed with malice. "But not as a citizen. As something lower than even the lowliest of slaves."

Morris's eyes went wide, reading the unspoken threat behind Edelstein's words. Do you really think you're the only one who knows how to wring every last drop of value from someone?

Before he could utter a word in protest, Broccos clamped a hand over his mouth, silencing him as Edelstein's attention shifted to the warrior.

"Broccos."

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Broccos replied, his voice respectful but firm, as Edelstein hacked out a cough and nodded, his gaze narrowing as he looked through the projection into the empty laboratory.

"Investigate what happened here—and bring this piece of trash to me."

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Broccos saluted as the connection flickered and went dead. He shut the device with a cold finality, tossing it back into his bag, before giving Morris a chilling grin. Then he seized Morris by the throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Gahh! Ughh!" Morris choked, struggling for breath as Broccos's grip tightened, that sinister grin widening as Morris's struggles grew weaker.

"It's always been my dream to do this to you, you sick freak—thanks for giving me the chance! Now, where did everything go?!"

Broccos loosened his grip just enough to let Morris breathe, and the scientist looked up in terror. "I don't know! Check the security cameras; there must have been an intruder!"

"We already did before we got here!" Broccos snarled, giving his throat a quick squeeze. "They're busted. Showed everything as normal! Now tell us what happened!"

"I told you, I don't know!" Morris's face contorted as tears of frustration spilled down his cheeks. How can I explain something I don't know?

"You expect me to believe that?!" Broccos slammed him against the wall, the impact splitting the skin at the back of Morris's head, blood trickling down his neck. "You expect me to believe everything just disappeared—and you, the only one safe and sound in the room, have no idea what's going on?! Do I look like an idiot?"

Morris was speechless, because as much as he hated to admit it, everything Broccos had said made perfect sense. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn't believe it either.

Although Edelstein had promised not to kill him, the murderous gleam in Broccos's eyes made Morris doubt it. His mind raced for answers until a sudden thought struck him. Lotus and Fanzell—they were too cooperative about coming down here, and as soon as they did, everything went to hell! They must have something to do with this!

"W-wait! Lotus and Fanzell! Bring them here—they're responsible, I know it!" He saw Broccos give him a skeptical look, so he rushed to explain. "We locked them up only ten minutes ago, and then everything changed—they're behind this!"

But Broccos and the other Mage Warriors looked unmoved. Desperate, Morris pleaded, "I-I know it doesn't make sense, but please, you have to believe me!"

"Argh!" His plea was cut off as Broccos slammed him into the wall again, the back of his head splitting open further, dizziness setting in as his vision blurred. Just because you hate me, you brute, doesn't mean you should ignore what I'm saying!

Broccos leaned in close, eyes blazing. "Who the hell are Lotus and Fanzell?!"

What? Morris blinked, certain he hadn't heard right. But Broccos was already looking over his shoulder at his subordinates.

"Any of you heard of them?" Morris's pupils dilated in horror as he watched the Mage Warriors shake their heads without the slightest bit of hesitation.

Broccos turned back, bringing his face dangerously close. "Listen here, twig. Just because His Majesty wants you alive doesn't mean I can't make your life worse than death. Now, if you're done wasting our time with pathetic lies… tell us where the hell everything went!"

Morris blinked, the room spinning, darkness creeping at the edges of his vision. Finally, he slumped into unconsciousness from blood loss, Broccos's shouts fading in his ears. This is all a bad dream. Once I wake up, it'll all be over.

Hage:

Sebastian soared high over Hage, careful not to draw attention as he officially crossed into the Clover Kingdom, his gaze fixed on the Noble Realm ahead. The night sky stretched wide above him, and he let the cool air rush past, pushing him forward.

He'd long since shed and disposed of Lackey A's body, as he did Lackey B's, leaving no trace behind. As for the Haze Mask? It was tucked safely back in his satchel. Narrowing his eyes, Sebastian spoke to himself, voice low and reflective.

"I didn't lie to Lotus and Fanzell—killing Morris now would cause too much trouble… but that doesn't mean I can't make his life a living hell. He'll suffer every bit as much as his victims."

House Faust, Basement:

Draven and Lilith watched as several maroon-robed figures carefully transported advanced technological equipment, papers, and various items to their designated areas. Beside them stood a few people in white lab coats, their eyes dull and unfocused, as if they were barely aware of their surroundings.

If Morris were here, he would recognize these people as his own assistants. He'd see that all the missing belongings from his lab—his research, computers, tools—had been gathered here.

Lilith leaned her head on her husband's shoulder, breathing heavily. Her voice was soft. "Are you alright? Opening a shadow gate to bring this many people and items through is new for you."

Draven wrapped his arm around her, a gentle expression of concern on his face. "I should be asking you that."

Lilith had cast a powerful spell, one that erased the memories of Lotus Whomalt, Fanzell Kruger, Lana Whomalt, Dominante Code, and their children from the entire kingdom. She'd also freed the King from mind control and ensured that no one noticed their or Sebastian's movements. Draven could tell she was entirely drained of mana, in need of at least a full day of rest.

Sensing his thoughts, Lilith chuckled softly, smiling weakly. "Not the entire kingdom. There's still one who will remember."

Draven nodded, a faint twitch of irritation crossing his face. "Our dear associate has quite the twisted sense of humor."

He could've simply asked Lilith to erase Morris from everyone's memory and deal with him outright, but Sebastian had insisted on this elaborate plan—just to make Morris suffer through what was coming.

Lilith hummed in agreement, then glanced at the piece of parchment her husband held. "You've been clutching that for a while. What is it?"

Draven met her gaze. "This is our compensation—all these assistants and equipment. I'm thinking we could set up a magic tool workshop and earn money publicly."

Lilith nodded weakly, stifling a yawn. "Good plan. We're trying to rejoin the noble circle. People will start investigating us again, so we need a front to distract from our true… passions."

Draven agreed, though he didn't seem thrilled. "I didn't think of this on my own. Our associate saw through our plans, as he always does, and recommended it."

Lilith paused, nodding thoughtfully. At this point, she wasn't surprised by anything Sebastian Silva could see through or know.

"And you still haven't told me what's on that paper," she added.

Draven began to unfurl it, speaking softly. "Sebastian said that in exchange for House Silva becoming our new Workshop's public partner—helping to keep ill-intentioned people off our backs—he wants us to prioritize the inventions he's requested."

"And this is the first?" Lilith asked, glancing at the blueprint as Draven fully unfurled it.

Both raised a brow at the peculiar design: a smooth, circular structure that looked like a chair, with a round basin for a seat and a handle attached to one side. They took in the depiction of a "flush" function leading to a sewage system, their eyes narrowing as they read the title aloud.

"The flushable toilet?"

Kiten:

The stronghold, typically quiet and light on Magic Knight presence unless an invasion was imminent, was now filled to the brim with Magic Knights—specifically, Purple Orcas. These knights, who once looked down on the people of the common and forsaken realms, were now walking around stiffly, forcing polite greetings to the very folks they used to disdain, and patrolling the town with intense focus. The reason was clear.

Kaiser Granvorka. Known as one of the humblest and most agreeable men in nobility, Kaiser had transformed completely after Lionel and Marcellus's scandal broke. Now, he watched over his squad with the vigilance of a hawk, purging his ranks of anyone he even suspected of corruption or scandal. He was monitoring every move.

The Purple Orcas, once elitist and tainted with corruption, were now desperate to prove themselves. They moved around like dogs with sticks up their backs, eager to assure their captain they weren't "bad apples." For knights like Gueldre Poizot, it was a nightmare. He'd been forced to shut down his money-laundering schemes, drop his bribes, and abandon all his usual rackets, or risk his Magic Knight career ending. Every second, he cursed Lionel and Marcellus for their recklessness. Damn it, you bastards! If you're going to pull something like that, don't get caught! Gueldre forced a smile as a group of snot-nosed peasant kids surrounded him, asking why he wore a mask. He barely kept his rage in check when one of them wiped his nose on his uniform.

For knights like Jack, however, nothing had changed. He'd never dabbled in anything Kaiser could criticize, and, in fact, he was loving it. Kaiser had offered to be his sparring partner if he stopped picking fights, and Jack was thrilled to find that Kaiser kept his word.

But for most of the Purple Orcas, they felt exactly like Gueldre: miserable, resentful, and cornered. As if to prove a point, Kaiser had banned his squad from taking any missions in the noble realm. If they wanted to make a living, they'd have to work in the common or forsaken realms—the last places they ever wanted to step foot in, let alone be seen.

Transferring squads wasn't an option. Sure, one or two members might get a transfer, but not an entire squad. Worse, the Wizard King had fully endorsed this reform, banning any transfers from the Purple Orcas. And even if he hadn't, it was pointless—no other captain was willing to take "bad apples" from a scandal-stained squad.

Their only options were to obey or quit. But for the noble-born members, quitting wasn't an option. It would mean social ostracism, ridicule, and a permanent stain on their reputations. They knew it, Kaiser knew it, and Conrad knew it. So all they could do was grit their teeth, force on a smile, and go along with it.

As the Purple Orcas patrolled, a commotion erupted at the front gate, and they quickly snapped their heads toward the sound, then flew over to investigate.

"Halt!" Kaiser's commanding voice boomed, sending a chill through the ranks of the Purple Orcas. Many initially stiffened, fearing he was addressing them, but quickly realized his command was directed elsewhere. With a collective sigh of relief, they hurried over, eager to see what was happening.

Those flying on their brooms through the night sky squinted, straining to confirm what they were seeing. In front of the gate stood a group of about two dozen people, including several children dressed in matching outfits. The children were glancing around with expressions of shock and confusion, clutching close to pairs of men and women. It was unclear whether they were trembling from fear or from the cold night air. But their attention was soon drawn to the man in the center—a figure with a goatee.

"Hey, isn't that Hell Lotus?" one of the Purple Orcas murmured. [1]

A wave of hushed agreement spread through the squad as many whispered among themselves, astonished at the audacity of Lotus Whomalt, the Diamond Kingdom's Adjutant General, standing at their gates. The murmurs quickly died down when Kaiser raised his arm in a silent command for silence, and every Purple Orca fell still.

Kaiser stroked his mustache thoughtfully as he looked down at the group, addressing Lotus.

"Whomalt, what brings you and your… unusual group to Kiten?"

Lotus looked up at Kaiser and, with a firm voice that rang through the air, declared, "We are here to seek asylum in the Clover Kingdom!"

A stunned silence followed, as the Purple Orcas exchanged bewildered glances, trying to process the unexpected request. Kaiser himself blinked at Lotus, taken aback; whatever response he'd anticipated, it certainly wasn't this.

Omake: What if Sebastian Transmigrated At The Start of Canon Part 2

"Hey princess, what do you say to me and you getting a bite to eat sometime." A flirty voice resounded in the Silva garden.

"Silence, insect." Noelle responded with a deathly black glare, looking at the brown haired droopy eyed playboy that dared to hit on her, during their first meeting.

Finral Roulacase. Noelle bit her lip in frustration, the failure of house Vaude, a lascivious man known for his obsession with women, was supposed to her teammate, and what made it worse was, if the rumors are true, he's one of the more socially acceptable members of the Black Bulls.

Finral sweatdropped, and scratched his cheeks, "hey, hey, that's not very nice, I'm your senior, you know?"

Noelle flicked her pigtails, "and I'm royalty, now bow down for your insolence, and I may overlook this. Refuse and I'll have you executed."

Finral trembled slightly, but didn't obey letting out a wry chuckle, "In the Magic Knights, class means nothing."

Noelle snorted, and humphed, knowing it was true, so not trying to make that big of a deal about it. Besides I can't fly on a broom so I need this guy's magic to escort me to the base.

Noelle was upset, but sighed as she remembered a sentence from a few hours ago, The Black Bulls… they're not as bad as others may lead you to believe…

So Noelle just crossed her arms, and closed her eyes, and although shorter than Finral, appeared to be looking down at him. "Fine, but you still owe me an apology for your gall, do so, and I'll spare you from receiving a face full of water!" Because I'm magnanimous, not because I have no confidence in hitting you even at this range.  

Finral continued scratching his cheek sheepishly, giving her a strained smile, that was because he was not scared of Noelle in the slightest.

As a man who's been to countless mixers in the common and noble realm, Finral is privy to a lot of rumors, gossip, and talk concerning beauties, especially royal beauties. 

And Noelle Silva's status as a literal royal failure of a mage, wasn't exactly a secret. Finral knew the truth, that just like him, this girl was receiving the boot from her family, so he couldn't help but feel for her somewhat.

He bowed shortly, and voiced his regret. "I apologize for my audacity princess, please forgive me." 

Noelle gave him another snort like a typical tsundere before nodding, "very well, I accept your apology."

Finral raised his head in gratitude only to see her pointing to her side, to her large, very large, luggage. Finral didn't know they made suit cases like that. Looks like even the lowliest of royalty live it up, compared to anyone else.

So after a moment's pause, he spoke up, "Yes?"

Noelle gave him a strange look, "what do you mean, yes? Carry my luggage."

Finral blinked, before registering what she said, "Huh??? Why would I do that?"

"What do you mean, why?" Noelle questioned like she just heard the most ridiculous thing in the world. "I'm royalty, I can't carry that myself!"

Finral was starting to lose his patience, as he forced a smile, "You can't or you won't?" 

Noelle crossed her arms, equally impatient. "Is there a difference? Now do it? If you're truly sorry, prove it with your actions, not merely words!" Man up and take responsibility, Noelle mouthed. 

Finral sighed, as much as he would like to give her a piece of his mind, the Finral of today was a pushover, pretty much the gofer of the Black Bulls. 

So with visible reluctance, he picked up her very heavy luggage, causing him to bend over, before he opened a spatial gate.

As he waited for her to step through first, he stopped her, "wait."

"Hmm?" Noelle was confused, and turned around. "What's the matter now? Don't tell me you're quitting already."

I'm your superior, show some respect! Finral wanted to yell, before sighing, and looking around strangely not seeing anyone. "Aren't you going to say bye to your family, did you already do it? Or don't you want to wait, for someone to come and see you off-"

Finral stopped himself, as he looked at her ugly expression, feeling guilty and like banging his head against the wall.

Why on Earth would you say that Finral, you dumb ass?! Of course no one's going to say goodbye to a failure! You of all people should know that!

Noelle tried to hold her fury and sorrow in, ignoring Finral who was bending over, and mumbling an apology, as she suddenly stopped and looked over at him, to see a familiar figure standing dead center across from her at the garden entrance. 

Once again, her father, Sebastian Silva. Noelle watched as her Father scanned her up and down cooly, before giving her a nod, and Noelle felt her breath hitch and tremble as she caught a soft smile on his face, before he turned around and walked away just as silently as he came.

Once again, Noelle's chest felt lighter, and warmer. 

Finral, who continued to bow and mumble an apology, felt like he was given a reprieve and heavenly pardon, as Noelle's indifferent voice flowed into his ear.

"Forget it, apology accepted, now can we get going?"

Finral slowly raised his head, to see that she looked entirely unphased and unbothered, her previous dejected visage nowhere to be seen. 

Finral nodded again as Noelle stepped through the gate, followed by him, as the spatial portal closed after them. 

As Noelle stepped through the other side to take in the rundown Black Bull base, an area that no Silva should be seen in, strangely she didn't feel the least bit depressed. 

And she walked to the base, a bit quickly, almost eagerly, with a hop in her step. I don't know about my siblings, but I think I want to make him proud of me.

Author's Note:

[1] I took inspiration from the Sword of the Wizard King Movie, where Finral does a similar thing to enter base zero. 

[2] Inspiration from my boy Amon. 

[3] Didn't make it up, that's his real epithet