Volume 03, Chapter 91

  Another Family Talk

  André’s breath hitches, his sharp gaze locking onto Dominic. The oppressive aura of Mana he sensed still lingers, its source now unmistakably clear.

  It is coming from his son.

  “Dad…” Dominic mutters, rising slowly to his feet, his movements hesitant.

  “Dominic…” André’s voice is hoarse, almost breaking under the weight of his emotions. The dark, ethereal sword in his hand dissipates into wisps of shadow as his arm falls to his side. “You… have Mana?”

  Dominic hesitates for a moment before nodding. “…Yeah.”

  André’s chest tightens as a storm of emotions churns within him—shock, confusion, and a flicker of something else he cannot name. Is it pride? Relief? No, not yet. For years, Dominic had been Manaless. André had accepted it, loved him unconditionally, and resolved to shield him from the scorn of others.

  But now? This?

  Before André can process further, Celine stands and walks toward him. “Welcome home, André,” she says softly. “How was your Stargate raid?”

  André blinks, his thoughts momentarily derailed.

  Celine leans in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Dominic is opening up.”

  His eyes widen slightly as he glances at her, then back at his son.

  His gaze shifts to the table, where the artifacts lie—the mirror, the chalice, and the scepter. He recognizes them immediately. Dominic had claimed they were gifts from Arthur or trinkets he had bought at a shop. André had doubted those flimsy explanations but had chosen not to press the issue.

  ‘Do those artifacts have something to do with this?’ André wonders, his brow furrowing.

  The lies Dominic told them—about the artifacts, about his sudden proficiency in Basic Gun Arts—flood his mind. Even Maurice confirmed that Dominic’s skills had not come from him.

  André’s chest tightens. ‘Why is he hiding things from us? When did this start? Could this be… a rebellious phase?’

  He quickly dismisses the thought. This is not rebellion—this is something far more significant.

  Without a word, André follows Celine into the dining area. His movements are deliberate, his presence heavy with purpose.

  Celine gestures for Dominic to speak, her calm but expectant smile reassuring. “Dominic, tell your father.”

  Dominic nods hesitantly, meeting André’s intense gaze.

  “Well…” Dominic begins, his voice trembling slightly. “It all started with those artifacts.” He gestures toward the table. “I lied about how I got them.”

  André’s brow furrows deeper, but he stays silent, waiting for Dominic to continue.

  “They weren’t gifts or random purchases,” Dominic admits. “I… raided temples to get them.”

  Celine’s lips part slightly in shock, while André’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing.

  “You raided temples?” André repeats, his voice sharp with disbelief.

  Dominic nods quickly, his words tumbling out. “I know it was dangerous, but I had to do it. I wanted to become a Manaficial. I thought…” He pauses, swallowing hard.

  “You thought what?” André presses, his tone firm.

  Dominic clenches his fists, his gaze dropping to the table. “I thought… if I had Mana, I could be stronger. I could protect this family. I wouldn’t be a burden anymore.”

  The silence that follows is heavy and suffocating.

  André leans back slightly, his jaw tightening as Dominic’s words sink in. They cut deeper than he expects, exposing a pain his son carried in silence. Does Dominic truly see himself as a burden? Had he borne this weight alone, believing he could not rely on them?

  “Dominic,” Celine’s voice breaks through the quiet, soft yet firm, tinged with hurt. “Why didn’t you come to us? Why didn’t you ask for help? Why lie?”

  Dominic hesitates, his gaze lowering as his hands clench into fists. When he finally looks up, his eyes shimmer with unspoken emotion. “Because… I didn’t want you to worry. You and Dad already do so much. And I couldn’t let Dad risk himself for me. I needed to do this on my own.”

  André exhales slowly, mixed emotions rippling through him—frustration, concern, and a pang of guilt. The tension in his shoulders eases, if only slightly. Hearing Dominic’s reasoning does not erase his anger, but it makes it harder to hold onto it. His son’s independence, though misguided, is born from love and respect.

  “I understand wanting to be strong,” André says, his tone calm but edged with sternness. “But what you did was reckless. Do you realize how easily you could have been killed? Do you think we could bear losing you?”

  Dominic flinches, his face tightening in regret. “I know… I’m sorry.”

  André’s gaze softens, though his voice remains steady. “You should not underestimate me, Dominic. I have never told you this before, but I am one of the [SS]-ranked magicians in Sylvestria. If you had come to me, I could have helped you.”

  Dominic’s eyes widen as he feigns surprise. “[SS]-rank? You?”

  André nods, though a flicker of bitterness crosses his features. “Yes. You did not have to face this alone.”

  Dominic glances away, swallowing hard. In truth, when he first transmigrated into this world, he had not known the full extent of André’s power—not until Célestin had told him. That ignorance had been one reason he had not sought André’s help. But even if he had known… would he have done things differently?

  Probably not.

  “Domy…” Célestin murmurs, breaking Dominic’s thoughts.

  Dominic glances at him, recalling how he and Arthur had helped him during the Temple du Calice de Convergence raid. Célestin, as a regressor, had chosen to accompany him, while Arthur, on the other hand, had been dragged along to lift his spirits. But now, looking back, Dominic realizes something else.

  Why had he dragged Arthur with him into the Temple du Sceptre Lié?

  At first, it had been to cheer Arthur up when he noticed his friend was feeling down. But deep down, Dominic now admits to himself: it was also because having Arthur there made the raid feel slightly less daunting. He had not wanted André or Celine to worry, yet he had willingly involved Arthur in the danger.

  ‘I’m a hypocrite,’ Dominic thinks bitterly. ‘I refused Celine or André’s help, but I had no problem risking Arthur.’

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  His gaze returns to André. “Even so, Dad, I don’t want to ask for help. To be a Stargate Raider, I must earn my strength. I can’t be babied just because I used to be Manaless.”

  His words are raw, carrying the weight of his determination and frustration. And while it is not entirely false—those raids have made him stronger and helped him complete the System’s quests—Dominic cannot deny the irony of his actions. He seeks independence yet leans on others when it suits him.

  His words ring with raw conviction, silencing the room.

  André’s stern expression wavers, his eyes searching Dominic’s face. He sees the honesty in his son’s voice—the desperate need to prove himself—not just to the world, but to himself. He understands the drive, even if it pains him to watch Dominic take such risks.

  André’s gaze shifts back to the artifacts, his expression unreadable. “And the Mana?” he asks, his tone sharper now. “How did you get it? Was it through these artifacts?”

  “Yes,” Dominic admits, feeling the weight of his father’s scrutiny. “The artifacts were part of a forgotten Manaficial ritual. They helped me absorb the Mana from a purified demon orb. That’s… why my aura feels the way it does.”

  At the mention of a demon orb and a Manaficial ritual, André’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing deeply.

  “Demon orb? Is it the same one you brought home?” André asks.

  Dominic nods hesitantly, bracing himself for André’s reaction.

  André’s surprise is evident, his jaw tightening as he processes the information.

  “Dominic,” Celine interjects, her voice calm but tinged with concern, “where did you learn about this… ritual?”

  “I—” Dominic begins, but a hand settles on his shoulder before he can finish.

  He turns to see Célestin, whose calm, reassuring smile seems to ground him.

  “I told him about the ritual,” Célestin says smoothly, raising his hand slightly to diffuse the tension.

  André’s eyes narrow as they shift to Célestin. He remembers the boy from their brief meeting after the Stargate incident in E?eforte territory—a resourceful and capable young boy who had helped the townspeople recover. His impression of Célestin had been positive, yet something about the boy has always felt… familiar.

  “How do you know about such an obscure ritual?” André asks, his voice skeptical, his gaze piercing.

  Célestin does not falter, meeting André’s scrutiny with practiced ease. He has prepared for such moments, relying on the same lie countless times across his regressions.

  “I have a deep interest in history,” he replies evenly. “I’m training to become a Stargate Raider and a historical archaeologist. My research led me to uncover forgotten practices like the Manaficial ritual.”

  André’s gaze lingers on him, suspicion flickering in his eyes, but he cannot detect any dishonesty. Finally, he nods, though the unease in his expression does not entirely fade.

  “I see…no wonder why.” André says.

  Célestin offers a polite smile, his tone lightening. “Rituals like this are rare, but the information is still out there if you know where to look. It’s just a matter of piecing it together.”

  André’s eyes dart back to Dominic, his jaw tightening slightly. “And you trusted him with something this dangerous?”

  Dominic nods without hesitation. “I did. Célestin guided me through it. If not for him, I wouldn’t have succeeded.”

  Observing the exchange, Celine leans forward slightly, her eyes narrowing with curiosity and concern. “How does it work?” she asks.

  Dominic hesitates briefly, glancing at Célestin, who gives him a slight, encouraging nod.

  “Well,” Dominic begins, choosing his words carefully, “the ritual involves three main steps: separation, manipulation, and absorption. First, we used the Mirror of Lysandra to separate the demon orb’s outer layer—the creature's essence and instincts—from its inner core, which holds the Mana and Magic Attribute. The sunlight reflecting off the mirror activates this process.”

  He gestures toward the mirror resting on the table, its surface still faintly gleaming.

  “Once the separation is complete, we used the Scepter of Binding to guide the Mana and magic power into the Chalice of Merging. The scepter’s crystal is designed to draw and channel the energy, condensing it into liquid form inside the chalice.”

  Dominic pauses, his fingers brushing against the chalice as he continues, “And finally… I drank it. The liquid Mana is absorbed into the body, merging with the soul. That’s when I… unlocked my Mana and my magic attribute.”

  Celine’s gaze lingers on the artifacts, her lips pressing into a thin line. “And this… demon orb you used. You said it was purified?”

  “Yeah,” Dominic answers quickly. “I paid someone to purify it. But I can’t say who.”

  Celine raises an eyebrow but does not press further, though the weight of her scrutiny lingers. Dominic’s mind races—he is not about to reveal Mason’s identity, given his connections to the black market.

  “I see…” André strokes his chin thoughtfully, his expression hardening. “But there’s still something else I need to know.”

  Dominic tenses as André fixes him with a piercing gaze. “Where did you really learn Basic Gun Arts? And be honest this time.”

  Dominic’s chest tightens. ‘Crap,’ he thinks.

  He had thought André had accepted his lies after that first training session with Maurice. Apparently, André had spoken to Maurice while Dominic was unconscious.

  Noticing the tension in the room and Dominic’s hesitation, Célestin decides to intervene. “I helped him!” he says quickly, drawing André’s attention.

  André’s eyes narrow slightly. “Helped him? Since when?”

  “For a while now,” Célestin replies smoothly, his tone casual.

  André’s gaze sharpens. “For a while? Dominic never mentioned you before the Stargate incident, yet you and he seem… close. How exactly did you meet?”

  Célestin does not flinch, slipping quickly into a practiced lie. “We met online, on the Aethernet. We were both interested in a specific Magi-tech device that analyzes the age of bones.”

  André raises an eyebrow. “The Aethernet?”

  “Yeah,” Célestin says, nodding earnestly. “At first, it was anonymous, but we started talking more often and eventually decided to meet in person. That’s when we became friends.”

  André studies him for a moment, his expression unreadable.

  “Okay…” André finally says, his voice softening slightly.

  Though his mind remains wary, his gut instinct tells him to trust Célestin. There is something about the boy that feels… trustworthy.

  "Thank you for being a good friend to Dominic," André says, his tone sincere.

  Celine nods, a small smile breaking through her calm demeanor. "Yes, thank you, Célestin."

  Célestin waves his hands dismissively, grinning. "Oh, there’s no need to thank me! Dominic is a good friend, too."

  Dominic let out a silent sigh of relief, grateful for Célestin’s quick thinking.

  André and Celine exchange a look, their expressions a blend of concern, disappointment, and something else—pride, perhaps. Then their gazes return to Dominic, who stands before them with his head slightly bowed and his hands clenched at his sides.

  "Dominic, you could have been more truthful with us. I understand why you felt the need to do this on your own, but… it hurts to know you lied to us." Celine is the first to speak, her tone steady but tinged with hurt.

  Dominic’s gaze drops to the floor, the weight of her words pressing down on him. "Yeah… I know. I’m sorry," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.

  André crosses his arms, his sharp eyes studying him intently. "We trust you, Dominic. But this… this has shaken that trust. You are my son, and I love you unconditionally, but seeing you keep something like this from us… it is concerning."

  Dominic flinches at the weight of his father’s words, guilt gnawing at his chest. He is not their real son—not truly. But hearing those words still hurts.

  André exhales deeply, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "That said," he continues, his voice softening, "a part of me… is proud of you."

  Dominic’s head snaps up, his eyes wide with surprise.

  "I’m proud that you’ve shown determination and courage," André admits, his expression gentler now. "You took risks to achieve something you’ve wanted for so long. But those risks came at a price—you did it alone, without trusting your family to support you. That’s where my concern lies."

  A part of Dominic wants to tell them he hasn’t done it alone. Arthur had been with him. Célestin had guided him. But this is a family conversation, and Arthur is not part of this moment. He does not want to pull his best friend into the discussion, nor does he want Célestin to be caught in the middle of something that is ultimately his burden.

  Célestin is only here because of the Manaficial ritual—because he can explain where Dominic had learned it. That is the only reason.

  So, Dominic swallows the truth.

  Celine nods, stepping closer and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We don’t expect you to shoulder everything alone, Dominic. You’re not a burden to us—you never have been. We’re your parents. We want to help you, not just stand by while you take dangerous risks."

  Dominic’s throat tightens, and his vision blurred slightly. "I just… I didn’t want you to worry about me," he says, his voice cracking. "You and Dad already do so much. I thought it would be easier for everyone if I did this alone."

  André’s stern expression softens further. He steps forward and places a firm hand on Dominic’s other shoulder, his grip steady and reassuring.

  "Listen to me, Dominic. You’re not a burden. You’re our son. Whatever challenges you face, we face them together. That’s what family is for."

  Dominic nods slowly, but deep down, he cannot shake the feeling that he should do this alone. No matter what they say or how much they reassure him, the truth remains—he is not their son. He has taken Dominic’s place.

  And because of that…

  He does not want André or Celine to worry about him.

  They have already lost their Dominic once. He refuses to make them go through that again.

  So, he forces a smile, swallowing the words he cannot say.

  "…Okay," he whispers.

  But deep down, he does not believe it.

  Célestin glances at Dominic, observing the subtle shifts in his expression—the way his lips curve into a faint smile, the way his shoulders remain tense despite André and Celine's reassurance. It is all too familiar.

  As a regressor, Célestin has seen this countless times before. People forcing a smile, pretending to be okay while carrying burdens they refuse to share.

  Dominic’s smile is not genuine.

  His eyes betray him.

  Célestin does not say anything at first. He simply watches as Dominic nods along to his parents’ words, offering reassurances that do not quite reach his eyes.

  He knows that feeling well—the weight of unspoken thoughts, the kind of loneliness that cannot be eased with kind words and warm gestures alone.

  Dominic is not rejecting their love outright. He wants to believe in it. But something deep inside him refuses to let go.

  Célestin sighs inwardly.