Dylan let out a deep sigh, carrying the heavy weight of the past few days.
Alberto had served the Kinzell family as a steward for nearly thirty years.
“What happened to him?” Ivyn asked.
“As soon as he was taken to the underground prison for interrogation… he died.”
“He’s dead?”
“Yes, looks like someone had placed a prohibition spell on him.”
Dylan’s expression darkened as he recalled the moment.
“Aaaagh! I-I’ll tell you!”
Alberto, unable to endure the cruel torture, had attempted to confess his master’s identity…
“The one I serve—”
Bang!
But he couldn’t finish. His head exploded like a watermelon.
Dylan wiped the blood splattered on his face, staring down at the remains of the man, disbelief flickering across his features.
“Could it be that those who wield the power of darkness were involved in this incident?”
“Don’t speak rashly, Bill. Nothing has been confirmed yet.”
Dylan cut off Bill’s speculative remark, but in truth, he harbored a similar suspicion himself.
Not just anyone could cast such a spell on the soul of the living.
Placing a prohibition spell on a human soul was a task only the highest-tier wizards—or those who wielded the power of darkness—could manage.
“…”
As Dylan’s heavy aura settled over the drawing room, the atmosphere in the drawing room grew tense.
“Dad…”
Ivyn, who had been silently observing the situation the entire time, rose from her seat and slowly approached Dylan, placing her small hand on top of his.
The warmth and softness of her touch brought him fully back from his thoughts, and he turned to look at his daughter.
“I’m fine,” Ivyn said, gazing at him.
She stared at him intently, struck anew by the thought: Was Dylan Kinzell really such a tender-hearted person?
I always thought he was a terrifyingly strict, patriarchal man who could bend six sons to his will…
Perhaps what she was experiencing was a “behind-the-scenes” moment.
She realized that there were probably many omitted moments, characters, and details that were never depicted in the novel.
But then again, that’s what a novel is supposed to be, isn’t it? The world a story can show is limited, and so too is the attention of its readers.
How many would really care about the intricate circumstances of side characters or extras?
Yet as she became the original Ivyn, subtle changes began to ripple through the narrative.
She started seeing beyond the superficial layers of the extras and began weaving entirely new threads of story with them. Threads that hadn’t existed before.
As Ivyn found herself captivated by a strange feeling, gazing at the head of the Necromancer family, Dylan’s warm voice reached her again.
“The reason this father of yours never taught you necromancy—or even the basics of magic—and kept you tightly confined within the manor… it was all to protect our youngest princess…”
Though massive like a bear, Dylan Kinzell’s eyes grew damp once more, revealing the soft heart beneath his imposing frame.
“I realized too late that it was merely my selfishness. How frustrated you must have been to even think of sneaking out beyond the manor…”
At Dylan’s self-deprecating confession, the jaws of the John-Hon-Dan trio slackened.
Their father, usually as imposing as a mountain, had shown a moment of vulnerability, and it tugged at their hearts.
Watching the Kinzell family huddle together, comforting one another, Ivyn was suddenly reminded of her past life.
To her, family had always been a heavy, oppressive burden, like a millstone pressing down on her chest.
An irresponsible father who abandoned her family.
An immature mother who used her eldest daughter as an emotional trash bin.
A younger sibling who’d gone astray.
The endless cycle of poverty passed down like a curse…
But she had been different.
No, she had fought to be different.
She had gritted her teeth and sworn never to become like her parents.
Thanks to her sheer determination, she found a job, moved to Seoul, and finally won her independence.
Perhaps it was because of such a bitter past that Ivyn now felt a lump rising in her throat as she looked at the Kinzell family.
“I came back safely, see? So please, everyone… don’t cry anymore.”
Ivyn wrapped her arms around Dylan’s broad shoulders.
It wasn’t something she’d planned; it just slipped out of her without thinking.
As she leaned against his solid frame, she caught a scent like warm firewood.
“Kh–hic…”
Behind them came the sound of sniffles.
At the tip of each of the triplets’ noses dangled a big, wobbling bubble of snot, swelling and shrinking each time they breathed in and out.
“Vyn… Daaad…”
“Uheung… uhhuhuhuhhuh…”
“I’m sorry too… we’re sorry too… Vyn… hkkk… hhic!”
True to their nature, the John-Hon-Dan trio rushed forward in unison, as if there had been an unspoken signal, and enveloped Dylan and Ivyn in a bundle of arms.
Ron watched nearby, his eyes red with unshed tears, while Bill pressed a finger to his eyes.
“Our little one’s back home… That’s all that matters. Everything’s all right now.”
Holding one another close, sharing their warmth, they looked for all the world like a family of squirrels huddled together in their winter nest.
Ivyn, burying her face into Dylan’s shoulder, felt a small smile tug at her lips.
If she were to name this feeling, she thought, it would probably be…
Something like comfort, or relief.
TL Note:
Hello~ Elle here. I took my sweet time doing updates, I know.
Piaf, my baby princess kitten and soulmate, urgently needs surgery. The cost is far beyond what I can handle alone, so I’ve prepared some special challenges to turn every bit of support into hope for her.
💬 Challenge #1: Every 5 unique comments = 1 extra chapter
💖 Challenge #2: Every 10 NU votes = 2 extra chapters
☕ Challenge #3: Every $15 on my Ko-fi goal = 3 extra chapters
Every comment, vote, and donation brings us one step closer to her surgery.
Thank you, truly, for supporting us.
