Chapter 9

Enria let out a long sigh as she looked around at the mess that used to be a house.

In her arms, little Hayden was sucking his thumb, his eyes fixed on Caldeon, who was sitting on the sofa receiving treatment from Rahar.

Across from him sat Silri, arms crossed and face full of irritation, glaring daggers at Caldeon—the same man who’d suddenly attacked her the moment she stepped through the door.

The fight had happened in an instant.

The moment Silri entered, Caldeon had swung a magic-charged sword at her, demanding to know if she was “the child’s father.”

Half her hair was gone before she even understood what was happening.

Infuriated, Silri counterattacked with wind magic, and Caldeon responded in kind, turning the house into chaos.

Only Enria, who’d thrown up a quick barrier, had escaped the storm of destruction. In her panic, she had screamed that “Silri is a woman!”—a statement that, thankfully, paused the fight just long enough for Rahar to appear and mediate before anyone actually died.

Now Rahar was tending to Caldeon’s wounds, which Silri had caused.

“Still, that was something else,” Rahar said, shaking his head. “You actually tried to break in here by asking your spirit for help. I’d never have thought of that.”

Ignoring him, Caldeon asked the question that had clearly consumed him from the start.

“So, who’s the father of the child? It’s not you, is it, Rahar?”

“Of course not,” Rahar shot back flatly.

“Then who is it?”

“Who do you think, you brainless human? Do you carry that head around just for decoration?” Silri snapped.

Caldeon’s brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing on her.

“Shut your mouth. You’re just a spirit—you have no right to meddle in human affairs.”

“Excuse me? Do you even know who’s protecting Enria and Hayden right now, before you spout that crap?”

“What then? The child’s aunt? Or his father’s sister?”

At that, Silri’s smile faded. She stared at him for a long moment, then smirked.

“You want to know who the father is? Too bad. You’re too stupid to deserve the answer.”

She snapped her fingers.

A flash of white light flared and vanished from the mouths of Enria, Rahar, and Hayden.

Caldeon frowned, not understanding, and Silri grinned.

“I’ve sealed the mouths, hands, and feet of everyone who knows who Hayden’s father is. If any of them try to speak or write it, my spell will stop their voice and freeze their body temporarily.”

It was, she said, punishment for cutting off half her hair and saying idiotic things.

Then she stood, looking down on Caldeon with a mocking smile.

“When you’ve learned how to apologize, maybe I’ll tell you who the father is.”

Enria could only stare, speechless. Somehow she had ended up collateral damage in their feud—but perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing.

At least this way, Caldeon wouldn’t find out that Hayden was his son.

If he ever did, he might try to take the boy from her.

Sure, becoming the duke’s acknowledged heir would give Hayden a life of wealth and prestige—but he would always carry the stain of being born out of wedlock.

Caldeon himself had been a bastard who rose to the rank of duke; people would surely call Hayden “his father’s son” in the worst possible sense.

No—Enria wanted her child to live freely, even if it meant living humbly.

As long as she had money, she could make that happen.

Maybe Hayden never needed to know who his father was at all.

“Do you have a death wish, spirit?” Caldeon’s voice was suddenly cold, the fury on his face unmistakable.

“Caldeon, calm down,” Rahar said quickly.

Enria blinked in surprise—Rahar always called her “Madam,” yet he spoke to Caldeon so familiarly. It seemed the two men were close.

In the original story, they’d barely interacted at all. When Rahar later killed Enria, Caldeon had quarreled with him briefly before Roseanne patched things up.

But now? They seemed downright friendly.

‘Everything’s so different from the original…’ Enria thought.

“I’ll find out somehow,” Caldeon said, his voice icy. “And when I do, I’ll kill him.”

A dark aura rippled from his hand, and beside him appeared a massive white tiger—or rather, something that only resembled one, with long fangs and fur swirling like a storm.

“Windel?” Silri’s eyes widened.

[Silri.]

“You—you’re being summoned by a human with dark magic?!” she gasped.

[Then you must be the one who angered my contractor.]

Silri’s face fRosee.

“Contractor?” Enria asked Rahar nervously. “What is that tiger?”

As soon as Windel appeared, Rahar had instinctively moved to shield her.

But before he could answer, Caldeon stepped forward, grabbed Enria’s wrist, and pulled her to his side.

Startled, both she and Rahar turned to him. Caldeon’s gaze was sharp with possessiveness.

“Protecting Enria isn’t your job,” he said coldly.

Rahar’s expression stiffened but he didn’t argue. Instead, he finally explained, “Caldeon made a contract recently—with that spirit. Windel is a wind spirit, the same rank as Silri.”

“What?” Enria blurted out, drawing everyone’s attention.

‘That’s impossible.’

In the original, Caldeon had no aptitude for spirit summoning at all, and Windel had never appeared.

Completely thrown off, Enria could only stare as Hayden toddled up to the enormous tiger.

“Choo-choo, choo-choo-choo!” he chirped, pursing his lips as if calling a cat.

Silri burst out laughing.

“Ahahaha! Oh, gods—look at him! Hahaha!”

Tears of laughter streamed down her face as Hayden grabbed Windel’s huge paw and shook it up and down.

Windel just sat there, utterly resigned.

Even Caldeon frowned, clearly disturbed. Windel wasn’t reacting at all—and that was strange.

Windel was known as one of the fiercest of all wind spirits. There was no way he’d let anyone, let alone a human child, treat him like a pet.

‘What kind of child could make Windel submit like that?’

Caldeon found himself staring.

Black hair, black eyes—he looked a bit like Enria, yet not quite.

He felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to poke the boy’s chubby cheeks.

And when Hayden smiled up at him, Caldeon felt his lips curve on their own.

Startled, he straightened his expression.

Something was wrong with him.

Why did this child make him feel this way?

Why did it suddenly make sense that even Windel tolerated him?

His voice was low, cold.

“Whose child is this, Enria?”

‘Yours, you idiot,’ she thought.

But with Silri’s spell sealing her words—and the fear of him taking Hayden away—she said nothing.

“Windel,” Caldeon pressed, “what are you doing?”

[He is the child of prophecy, Caldeon.]

Caldeon frowned.

Hayden, fascinated by the tiger’s deep, echoing voice, reached up and lifted the creature’s lip to see his teeth.

“Prophecy?” Caldeon repeated.

[The savior given to mankind by the gods.]

Caldeon’s eyes widened.

Two years ago, the temple had delivered a prophecy—of a “savior bearing the power of absolution,” one who could even raise the dead at a cost to themselves.

‘Wait… not appearing, but being born?’

He stared at Hayden, realization dawning.

‘Did the gods use Enria as a vessel to birth the child of prophecy?’

Rage flared inside him.

The thought that some divine being had seduced innocent Enria to bear its child made his blood boil.

“Enria,” he growled, “don’t tell me you had an affair with a god?”

Every head in the room snapped toward him—Rahar, Windel, Silri, and Enria all staring in disbelief.

Even Silri stopped laughing.

“I asked,” Caldeon continued darkly, “if a god tricked you into having—”

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Before he could finish, Windel, Silri, and Rahar all struck him at once—on the head, the back, the shoulder.

“How dare you, human! Watch your tongue before the divine!”

“You’ll get smitten for that, Caldeon!”

[Show respect to one touched by a god’s power.]

Caldeon rubbed his head, grumbling.

“Then why did my woman bear the child of prophecy?”

‘Your woman?’ Enria’s expression tightened.

‘You threw me away, and now I’m your woman again?’

He’d abandoned her and suddenly thought he could just come back and claim her? The sheer audacity made her chest ache.

“Whatever it takes,” Caldeon muttered, his eyes burning. “God or not, I’ll kill whoever used her body to bear that child.”

‘So basically, you’re planning to kill yourself,’ Enria thought grimly.

And then he said something that made everyone in the room freeze.

“I’m taking Enria with me. And the child, too.”