MDRH 03

Chapter 3

Elbadin Decart, Duke.

In the original story, he had barely any significance—he was just an extra.

He almost never appeared alone in any scene, and there were hardly any lines or narration related to him.

After all, the biological father of a villainess wasn’t really an important character in the original story.

Still, Lucilea remembered him clearly.

Elbadin Decart—he was, in fact, Lucilea’s biological father.

Lucilea and Elbadin stared at each other silently.

Elbadin did not respond to the brief greeting Lucilea offered.

Instead, he commanded the knights to pull her out of the carriage.

“W-Wait! As an educated person, shouldn’t we at least try talking first—?”

Lucilea’s suggestion to resolve things through conversation was casually ignored, and she was lifted effortlessly and set down in front of Elbadin.

A sharp winter wind blew, shaking the tattered hem of Lucilea’s worn-out clothes.

Squinting against the cold, she slowly opened her eyes and met the gaze of those piercing red eyes that stared back at her.

Ah…

‘…So this is what he looks like.’

His black hair shimmered in the sunlight, and between his long, sharp eyes, the red irises stood out vividly.

Those red eyes didn’t burn like a fierce flame—they reminded her more of blood freezing over an icy surface.

The presence was overwhelming.

‘As expected.’

Even though he was her biological father, she didn’t feel any special or affectionate emotions.

‘Every parent—biological or adoptive—has left me nothing but bad memories.’

But that didn’t matter.

Her goal wasn’t to rebuild a relationship with her father.

‘Let’s just get chosen by the elite corps, enter the Duke’s household, and get support until my coming-of-age ceremony.’

After leaving the Duke’s house post-ceremony, she could live freely, and Serdian, the male protagonist, wouldn’t be expelled from the Duke’s household.

‘If Serdian stays in the Duke’s house, I won’t become the number one target of revenge. That’s even better.’

So until then, she just needed to hide her identity and survive quietly and subtly.

At that moment, Elbadin spoke.

“Whose orders did you follow?”

Huh…?

‘Whose orders…?’

The expressions on Elbadin and Riart, standing beside him, were deadly serious.

No, “serious” didn’t even cover it—they looked downright lethal.

By the atmosphere alone, it felt like her head might be chopped off before she even stepped into the Duke’s residence.

Feeling instinctively threatened, Lucilea quickly opened her mouth.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding. I wasn’t sent by anyone—”

Before she could finish, Elbadin’s gaze sharpened further. Riart had his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Click. Riart drew the blade slightly from its scabbard. Panicking, Lucilea hurriedly added:

“My name is Lucilea! I just turned seven last month! I wasn’t sent by anyone—I came here because I wanted to live! I came by myself to survive! Even if I have to work as a maid, please take me to the Duke’s house! Please!”

Panting, her face flushed, Lucilea finally caught her breath.

Sliding the sword back into the scabbard, Riart raised his eyebrow.

“Seven years old?”

“Yes!”

She lied about her age, claiming to be one year younger than her actual age of eight.

‘Since I’m hiding my identity, I can’t tell the truth about my age.’

Besides, the villagers in Mille didn’t know her exact age anyway.

Hearing her claim, Riart tilted his head and nodded, seemingly unconcerned—Lucilea’s small stature matched her claim.

But he didn’t let his guard down. He thought a little intimidation was necessary to extract the truth.

Gripping the hilt tightly, he spoke sharply:

“You snuck into the Duke’s carriage just because you wanted to live? Did you think that saying so would make me pity you and let you live?”

Shrrrk. The sword slid out again.

“W-Wait!”

Lucilea quickly pulled her skinny hand from under her cloak and held it out to Elbadin and Riart.

“Please, look at this!”

Their gazes shifted to the small palm of her hand.

Lucilea drew in a sharp breath and furrowed her brows intensely.

Then she focused all her strength into her palm.

‘Now, it’s my turn to show it!’

Come out, please.

Just like in the cabin where she had practiced secretly, she hoped it would appear.

She concentrated every ounce of her power into her palm.

Ugh…

Her hand trembled violently, pale from exertion.

‘Come on, hurry! To survive here, you have to show yourself!’

Even her toes curled inside her shoes, and her lips were pressed tight, as if to conserve every bit of energy for breathing.

Heat seemed to gather at the crown of her head, and sweat started forming on her forehead.

‘Ah! My head’s going to explode before I even show my magic!’

After regaining her memories, Lucilea realized she had magic within her.

She recalled that in the original story, it was mentioned she had faint magical ability.

The problem was, she didn’t know how to control it.

‘Because I was born with magic, I could feel it and circulate it inside me… but using it outside my body is another matter entirely.’

‘The original story never explained how to use it!’

A week ago, she had accidentally succeeded while secretly practicing in a cabin in the mountains.

No one taught her, and there were no reference books.

It was pure trial and error.

‘Other protagonists seem to manage on their own.’

Ah, right.

‘I’m not the protagonist.’

A little more time passed.

Riart, unable to hold back, muttered quietly to himself.

Then—

Fwoosh!

A faint, pale green energy sprouted on Lucilea’s small, trembling palm.

“…….”

Elbadin tilted his head slightly.

“……?!”

Riart’s eyes widened in surprise.

“It’s… it’s done!”

Lucilea cried out in joy.

The energy looked like a sprout struggling to push through cracked, dry soil.

Elbadin’s expression remained indifferent, while Riart gaped in disbelief.

Lucilea let out a sigh of relief and extended her hand toward Elbadin.

Sweat rolled down her cheeks.

“This! This is what I wanted to show you!”

“……”

“……”

With hopeful eyes, Lucilea asked Elbadin:

“Does having this mean I can be chosen by the elite corps?”

Elbadin looked at the tiny sprout-shaped magic on her palm.

A brief silence passed before he spoke slowly.

“Insignificant.”

“……”

Huh?

Lucilea blinked, catching her breath.

‘I-Insignificant…?’

Her heart sank. Could it be that this wasn’t enough? That it didn’t meet the elite corps’ standards?

‘Then… I can’t enter the Duke’s household?!’

Her large eyes trembled.

Then Elbadin added:

“Insignificant, yet not bad.”

“……What?”

Lucilea tilted her head, confused. This time, Riart spoke.

“Your Highness, that is magic.”

“Yes, I can see it too.”

Elbadin nodded.

Lucilea, looking between them, asked again:

“So? Does that mean I can be chosen by the elite corps?”

Was it too insignificant to be chosen, or just good enough to be selected?

‘What does “insignificant, yet not bad” even mean?!’

Elbadin answered calmly:

“You will be chosen.”

“……”

Chosen?

‘Did he just say he would choose me?!’

A shiver ran down her arm.

Unconsciously, Lucilea shouted, “Wow!” and raised both arms high above her head.

Her face lit up with elation.

‘It worked! It really worked!’

She clenched her fists tightly.

Riart, trying to hide his surprise, glanced at Elbadin.

Elbadin’s expression was as indifferent as ever.

‘His Highness chose without consulting the elite corps’ captain.’

Normally, finding a child with ability required consulting the elite corps’ captain and considering the situation.

But Elbadin had made the decision without hesitation.

Riart had no objection.

He turned his gaze back to Lucilea.

‘This little one…’

The sprout-like energy that had just emerged was gone, but it was undeniable magic.

And it was already manifested.

Though he called it “insignificant,” Riart couldn’t agree—self-manifesting magic without anyone’s help was rare.

‘A seven-year-old manifesting magic on her own…’

This…

‘She’s a genius, isn’t she?!’