Rudeus finally meets Sylphie.
 The way he drives the neighborhood brats away is different this time.

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Please note that I do not own Mushoku Tensei or Fate.
Also please note I do not know much about the Fate Universe. I will try and search everything I can, But I will make mistakes. And I'll make a lot of them. Please tell me so I can fix them. I'm doing this to try and cure my writer's block, so please don't bash me too hard in the comments.
This chapter is just a copy-paste of the light novel with some changes made. Don't read if you don't want to. You won't be missing any details.

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Next morning, I woke up bright and early.

Partly because I slept for the entire afternoon yesterday. I barely made it home by sundown.

Today was a day I let myself relax. After three weeks of hard work, I decided to just rest. My swordsmanship levels had stagnated, so I thought of using magic in tandem. Some may think it's cowardly to use such tricks, but I was a mage, not a swordsman. I was allowed to use every trick I knew.

I was thinking of using my cloak as a replacement for my sword. I can make my cloak harder than steel by reinforcing it with Mana with a few magic circles as support. And its edge was pretty damn sharp, too. That was why I chose to leave the edges unhardened when I fly-the risk of cutting myself was too high. Each wing was two and a half meters, so I would have a pretty lethal weapon.

"I'll have to seriously think about that..." I muttered.

I wanted to test my fighting skills, yet there were few I could go all out on. Monsters were rare in these parts, and we have monthly monster hunts. Though I have heard rumors that powerful monsters sometimes show up in the deep forests. I need to take extra care to not underestimate my opponent. Like I said before-I got a second chance, but it was unlikely that I would get a third.

I sighed, putting monster hunting in the back of my head. There were other problems to worry about. I flipped through the botanical encyclopedia, looking for what I needed.

"Let's see...Ah yes. Here it is. This is the wood that those rotten boards were made of." I'm searching for the kind of wood my house was made of to further repair it. "False Maple. This specimen is a distant cousin of the black oak tree, with leaves that look exactly like that of a maple's, even turning the same shade of red in autumn. This tree is native to the Fittoa region on the Central continent and is one of the most common trees growing in forests. Its wood is a soothing dark brown, making it a popular building material."

Great! Now I don't have to spend money buying wood. I can just chop a few trees down. Again, forgive me. Nature spirits. For a day of relaxing, I was doing a surprising amount of work.

I shook my head. No. Today was a rest day. I needed to restore my stamina. Tomorrow I'll start moving into my new base, and flying with large objects was never easy. With that in mind, I made my way up to a small hill. At the top stood a lone tree, the largest one in the area. I was thinking of sitting by the trunk and reading my encyclopedia, maybe taking a few more naps while I'm at it. I was surprisingly tired today.

And that's when I heard them. Voices.

"We don't need no demons in our village!"

Great. Discrimination. Believe it or not, I actually knew it quite well. The higher-ups of the Clocktower constantly made fun of me because I often used runes. I sighed. I was going to stop this, wasn't I?

"Get the hell out of here!"

"Take this!"

"Ha, nice! Direct his, man!"

I saw a field, muddy from the other day's rain. Three boys with their bodies caked in mud hurled it at another boy walking along.

"Ten points if you can nail him in the head!"

"Hngh!"

"I got him! Didja see that?! Right in the head!"

Yikes. This was not good. This was classic bullying right here. These kids thought this other boy wasn't good enough for them, so they could do whatever crap they wanted. They reminded me of the more hot-headed magi at the Clocktower. Beating up and making fun of random lesser magi. I was just glad these kids didn't have Gandr shots.

Their target could have quickly shuffled on his way, but for some reason, he was dawdling. I looked more closely and saw he had something like a basket clutched to his chest, which he hunched over to keep its contents safe from the balls of mud being hurled his way. It was keeping him from getting away from the bullies' onslaught.

"Hey, he's got something!"

"Is that his demon treasure?!"

"I bet it's something he stole!"

"If you bullseye that, it's worth a hundred points!"

"Let's get that treasure!"

Okay, now that was just going too far. That basket was obviously for carrying food. I bet this kid was delivering lunch to his dad or something. I couldn't just let them keep bullying this helpless kid. I thought about putting them to sleep with hypnotism, but that was too boring. I formed a few mud balls and hurled them at the three brats.

*Whap!*

"What the hell?!" I hit the kid who looked like their leader, a conspicuously large fellow, right in the face.

"Gah, it got in my eyes!"

His lackeys all turned their attention to me.

"Who the heck are you?"

"This ain't got nothing to do with you! Stay out of it!"

"What are you, an ally of the demons or something?"

I sighed. Welcome, everyone, to discrimination at its finest. People were the same in every world.

"I'm no ally to the demons," I said, "I'm an ally to the weak." I gave them a haughty sneer.

The other boys steeled themselves, drawing themselves up as if they were in the right.

"Don't you try to act tough!" One of them snapped.

"Hey, he's that one knight's kid!"

"Hah! He's just a baby!"

I was getting irritated. Why though? I was never bothered when the higher-ups at the Clocktower sneered at me. Maybe because these brats were two dimensions below me.

"You sure the son of a knight should be doing this sort of thing, huh?"

"See, I told ya that knight was on the demons' side!"

"C'mon, let's get the others!"

"Hey, guys! We've got some weirdo here!"

Great. The brats were calling for backup. I wasn't worried-I could beat their "backup" easily if required. I can manipulate stars, for heaven's sake. But no one showed up.

'Huh? Did their buddies abandon them or something?' "You shut up!" I shouted, "Ganging up on a kid three-to-one-you people are the worst!"

Their faces screwed up in confusion. Ugh. Dammit.

"Hey, you're the one who's shouting now, you dumbass!" One of them blurted.

I was pissed off, and my anger was bubbling. I suddenly felt a swelling sensation behind my eyes. Great. I should have expected this. My eyes act up more when I feel strong emotions. I did not want to freeze these kids solid, even if they were complete brats. I covered my eyes with my hood. You're welcome. Though the brats thought I was intimidated.

"Look! He covered his eyes!"

"He's probably crying under there."

"Go back to your mommy!"

Okay. I was absolutely pissed now. I hurled another mudball at the three. I missed.

"You little brat!"

"Where the heck is he getting the mud from?!"

"It doesn't matter! Just throw it back!"

What I'd dished out was being returned threefold. But thanks to the footwork Paul had taught me and a bit of magic, I could dodge the volley rather gracefully.

"Hey! Knock it off!"

"Yeah, you're not supposed to dodge!"

Really? These brats were spoiled, alright. You can't hit me. Just accept that fact. Five minutes later, I was getting bored. This was supposed to be a relaxing day, not "dodge wet balls of dirt thrown by brats" day. Was it too much to ask to sleep under a tree? I sighed, might as well give these kids a show.

The leader threw another mudball at me, but I didn't move this time. The other two saw this as a golden opportunity and threw balls of mud as well.

I held up a finger, and the mudballs stopped. They hovered mid-air for a moment before exploding into fire. I snapped my fingers, and three reinforced projected swords appeared above me. I waved my finger in a circle, and a rune chain appeared on each blade. It was a skill I learned from that druid's book-the ability to cast runes on objects without physical contact. They glowed for a split second, and the swords burst into flame. I glared at the brats under my hood as I pointed my finger at them, and I could see their legs were trembling. I released the swords, ensuring they were aimed right at their heads. The air whistled as they flew, flying straight for the kids' brains...before stopping mere inches away.

I looked at the three brats, chuckling-they were white with terror-I think one even peed their pants.

I snapped my fingers again, and the swords vanished into blue and gold moats of light. At the same time, three more swords appeared above my head. The flickering flames on their blades glowed a deadly blue as if saying, "Are you gonna leave? Or do you want me to actually impale you this time?"

The three bullies seemed to get the message, and the leader turned to his buddies. "Th-thi-this is lame. Let's go."

"Y-yeah. Let's go."

"A-and let's tell everyone the knight's kid is a demon lover."

They clearly haven't learned their lesson-they tried to make it seem they hadn't lost. I have flaming swords pointed at them, for god's sake! But I'll let them go this time. I dismissed my projections only after they disappeared from view. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding-I wasn't that good with words. For now, I needed to check on the kid they'd been throwing mud at.

I turned to him and asked, "Hey, are you all right? Are your things okay?"

'Whoa...' I thought.

The boy was so pretty it has hard to think he was a boy. He had long eyelashes for someone so young, with a dainty little nose, thin lips, and a somewhat pointed jawline. His skin was porcelain white, and his features combined to give him the look of a started rabbit, with a sense of unspeakable beauty. Man, if only Paul had been the prettier sort. Maybe I'd have a face like that. No, Paul wasn't bad-looking. And Zenith looked really good. Which meant my face was fine. Compared to the pale and hollow-looking face from my past life, my current one was akin to a model's face. The boy turned his timid gaze back to me. He seemed to be afraid. I don't blame him. I literally shot flaming swords at a few bullies.

"Y-yeah. I'm...I'm okay."

He made me want to protect and care for him like a cute baby animal. His innocent ruby eyes seemed to make my very soul resonate. His clothes were filthy, and mud clung to half of his face. The top of his head was basically a uniform brown. It bordered on miraculous that he'd managed to keep his basket safe. I'll have to wash his hair. His clothes can be cleaned later.

"Here." I pointed at a small river by the road, "Why don't you set that basket down and kneel by the river."

"Huh? What?"

The boy blinked in confusion as he began to do as I said. Guess he was the sort of hid who did what he was told. If he was the defiant sort, he would have fought back against those bullies earlier. He crawled over to the river, hunched on all fours as he peered into the water.

"Here," I said, "Close your eyes."

I used some fire magic to heat the water to an appropriate temperature: neither too hot nor too cold, but a nice, warm forty degrees Celsius. I then used it to douse the boy's head.

"Gwah!"

I grabbed his collar as he squirmed and tried to get away, proceeding to wash away the mud. He struggled at first but calmed down when he knew I won't slice his head off with a water blade.

"All right, that should do it," I said.

With the mud out of the way, I used fire magic to create warm wind-like a hairdryer. Then projected a handkerchief-I left mine at home-to wipe the water away. In doing so, I could finally see his pointed, elf-like ears and the emerald green hair he sported. I immediately remembered something Roxy told me.

"If you ever see someone with emerald-green hair, make sure you don't go anywhere near them."

No. That wasn't quite right. I think it was...

"If you ever see someone with emerald-green hair and what looks like a red jewel set on their forehead, make sure you don't go anywhere near them."

Yeah. That was it. I'd forgotten the bit about the red jewel. This kid's forehead, however, was nothing but a smooth white. Whew. I was safe. He wasn't one of those nasty Superds.

"Th-thank you..."

The boy's words of gratitude snapped me back into the moment. Dang. He was kinda giving me the tingles there. I decided to give him some advice.

"Listen, if you just roll over for people like that, they're never going to leave you alone, you know."

"I can't beat those guys..."

"You need to want to fight back; that's the key."

"But they always got bigger kids with them. And I don't want to get hurt..."

Ah, so that was it. If he fought back, those kids would call for their friends and give him a thorough beating. No matter what world you lived in, that was a thing. Roxy had put a lot of effort so the grown-ups would accept demons, but not the children. Kids could be so cruel. This wasn't too far away from outright bigotry.

"You must have it rough, getting bullied just because your hair color makes you look like a Superd."

"You're...not bothered by it?"

"My teacher was a demon. What race do you belong to?" I asked.

Roxy had told me that the Migurd and Superd were closely related. Maybe his race was, too.

But the boy just shook his head. "I don't know."

He didn't know? At his age? That was odd.

"Well, what race is your father?"

"He's a half-elf. His other half is human, he said."

"And your mother?"

"She's human, but she has beastman blood."

The child of a half-elf and a quarter-beastman? Did that explain his hair, then? Tears welled up in the boy's eyes.

"And so they-m-my dad, he...he tells me I'm not a demon, b-but...my hair isn't the same color as my mom's..."

He started to sob, and I reached over to reassuringly pat his head. If his hair color didn't match either of his parents though, that was a big deal. The possibility that his mother had an affair occurred to me.

"Is your hair color the only thing that's different?"

"My...my ears are longer than my dad's, too."

"I see."

A demon race that had long ears and green hair sounded plausible enough. I didn't want to pry too hard into the affairs of a stranger's home life, but I felt bad for the kid.

"Does your dad treat you nicely?" I asked.

"Yeah. He's scary when he's mad, but he doesn't get mad if I behave."

"And what about your Mom?"

"She's nice."

His tone indicated he was telling the truth-unless he was just an extremely skilled liar. Then again, I couldn't know for sure without seeing for myself.

"All right," I said. "Let's go, shall we?"

"G-go where?"

"Wherever you're going."

Hey, stick with a kid, and his parents are bound to show up. That's almost a law of nature.

"Wh-why are you coming with me?"

"Well, those guys from before might come back. I'll drive 'em off. Are you on your way home? Or are you taking that basket somewhere?"

"I'm, ah, delivering m-my dad's lunch."

Like I thought. His father was a half-elf, yeah? Were elven men and women super-gorgeous in this world? No, no. Thinking elves as all being super-gorgeous were Japanese perception. The elves in Western games had faces that were too angular and pointed and didn't look particularly gorgeous. Guess Japanese otaku and foreign normies have different tastes. For this boy, though, it was a given that his parents were hot.

"So, um...why...why are you...protecting me?" He asked haltingly, his mannerisms evoking more of that protective instinct in me.

"My father told me I should be an ally to the weak."

"But...the other kids might exclude you because of it..."

Maybe so. It wasn't a rare story: getting bullied for helping out a victim of bullying.

"If that happens, I'll just play with you," I said, "As of today, we're friends."

"What?!"

Having friends will slow my house restoration project, but it was better than being lonely. I could just reveal the house to him after I was sure he was trustworthy.

"Oh, are you usually too busy helping around the house?" I asked.

"N-no, not really..." He mustered a timid expression and a shake of the head.

Man, he did have quite the face. You know, this might work out nicely-him having a face like that. He was sure to draw in plenty of girls once he grew up, and if I stuck with him, the ones he didn't pick might come my way. My own face wasn't too special, but if you took two guys and stood them next to each other, the better one of them looked, the more ordinary-looking the other guy appeared. And so girls who had less confidence were sure to try for me. Besides, I prefer a girl who's a little unsure of herself as opposed to one who's brimming with confidence. This could work. It was like how pretty girls kept ugly ones nearby so everyone would notice how pretty they were but in reverse.

"Oh, that's right. I haven't gotten your name yet. I'm Rudeus."

"I...I'm Sylph-"

His voice was so quiet that it was hard to make out the second part. Sylph, huh?

"That's a nice name. The spirit of the wind."

At that, Sylph's face turned red, and he nodded.

"Yeah."

...

Sylph's father was a very attractive man. He had pointed ears and blond hair that almost glittered, and he was slender without lacking muscle definition. He definitely inherited the best parts of both elves and humans. He stood guard at a watchtower on the edge of the forest, a bow in one hand.

"Father," Sylph called. "I've brought your lunch."

"Ah, thank you, Phi, as always. Did you get bullied again today?"

"I'm okay. Someone helped me out."

Sylph turned to look my way, and I bowed slightly. "Nice to meet you," I said. "I'm Rudeus Greyrat. Please pardon my hood, but it's a requirement that I wear it."

"Greyrat? As in Paul Greyrat?"

"Yes, sir. He's my father."

"Ah, yes. I've heard of you! My, what a polite boy you are. Oh, you'll have to forgive me. I'm Raws. I typically hunt in these forests."

Based on what I'd heard, this watchtower was set up as a lookout post to keep monsters from making it out of the forest. It was staffed with men from the village around the clock. Paul was also on the roster, which explained why Raws knew him. I'm pretty sure they'd talked to one another about their respective children.

"I know how my kid must look, but it's just something from further back in our ancestry," Raws said. "I do hope you'll be friends with each other."

"Of course, sir. And even if Sylph was a Supered, it wouldn't change my attitude one bit. I stake my father's honor on it."

Raws let out a sound of astonishment. "Those are impressive words for a boy your age." He said. "I'm kind of jealous that Paul has such a bright kid."

"Being good at things as a child doesn't mean that person will keep being good at them as an adult," I said, "You don't need to be jealous now when there's still time for Sylph to grow."

This was based on my own experience. As a child, I was fantastic at time magic, but now runes and astromancy are my forte.

"Heh. Now I see what Paul was talking about."

"What did my father say?"

"That talking to you makes one feel like an underqualified parent."

While we were talking, I felt a tug at the hem of my shirt. I looked, and Sylph was clutching it, his head cast down. I guess a grown-up conversation like this was boring for children.

"Mr. Raws," I asked, "Can the two of us go play for a bit?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Just don't get too close to the forest."

Well, that went without saying. I felt like there should have been more ground rules than that.

"On our way here, there's a hill with a big tree. I figured we'd go play around there. I promise Sylph will head back home before it gets dark. And once your kid gets home, could you look towards that hill? If it looks like I haven't gone home, there's a good chance something's wrong. Could you please arrange a search if that happens?"

I was pretty sure I could kill any Phantasmal Beasts that showed up, but I didn't want to overestimate myself. It was good to have a backup plan. This kingdom seemed fairly safe, but there's no telling what dangers lurk in the wood. Hell, there might even be a stray wyrm or something. With one look back at Raws, who was a bit dumbfounded, Sylph and I headed back for the tree on the hilltop.

"So, what do you wanna do?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. I've...never played with a...a friend before."

Sylph struggled to get the word "friend" out. I suppose he never had one before. I feel bad for him.

"Yeah," I said, "Until recently, I never left the house myself." 'And now I'm working my butt off as a magical construction man.' That part went unsaid. "But anyway, what did you want to play?"

Sylph wrung his hands together and gazed up at me. We were roughly the same height, but I was still taller than him by about ten centimeters. Not to mention he kept himself hunched over. Those combined factors made him have to look up at me.

"So, um. How come you keep changing how you talk?"

"Hm? Oh! Depending on who you're talking to, it's rude not to speak properly. You need to show deference to your elders."

"Def-er-ence?"

"Like how I spoke to your father before."

"Hmm..."

He didn't get it. That's fine. He's still young. I bet he'll be more polite than me in a few years.

"More importantly," Sylph said, "Could you teach me that thing you did earlier?"

"What thing?"

Sylph's eyes glimmered to life. He waved his hand dramatically like I did when I projected those flaming swords.

"Like when you made warm water go all sploosh from your hands, and when you made that nice warm wind."

"Ah, yes. That."

The magic and magecraft I used to clear away the mud. He didn't mention my swords, though. That wasn't surprising. Given his meek nature, I was willing to bet my money on this kid being a pacifist. I could teach him magic, though magecraft was impossible-he didn't have circuits or Od.

"Is it difficult?"

"It's difficult, but with training, anyone can do it. Probably."

Lately, my Mana pool had grown so much that I wasn't even sure how much I was expending. I had to perform five greater rituals without any ambient Mana to even begin to drain it. I didn't know the baseline for the mages of this world, but this was just using fire to warm water, for f*ck's sake. People probably couldn't just up and conjure hot water without incanting, but with combined magic, anyone could produce the effects. So it was fine. Probably. Besides, having a mage friend to talk to would be fun. It would hinder my reconstruction project, but I could just show him the house when I trusted him enough. Why do I feel like I thought that before?

"Okay then." I announced, "Today, we'll begin your training."

He looked so cute when I said that-his ears wiggled with emotion, and the brightest smile lit up his face. I was right. He was definitely going to be a lady killer. And so, Sylph and I played until the sun went down.

...

When I got home, Paul was furious.

He stood all imposing in the entryway, hands set on his hips n an expression of anger. I immediately tried to think about what I'd done wrong. The first thing that came to mind was that he discovered the precious panties I'd secreted away. Or perhaps he found my silkworms under my bed.

"Father, I'm home," I said.

"Do you know why I'm upset?"

"I don't."

I'll play dumb. I didn't want to deal with unnecessary trouble if my prized possession hadn't been discovered.

"Mr. Eto's wife came by earlier and told me that you punched their boy, Somal."

Okay. Who the heck were those people? Their names didn't ring a bell. I've never heard the name Eto before-or maybe I did, and I just forgot.

Wait. "Did you say 'today'?"

"Yes."

The only people I'd run into today were Sylph, Raws, and those three punks. Was Somal one of those three boys, then? But I didn't punch any of them. All I did was hurl some flaming swords at th-okay, that sounds even worse. I think I should go with...

"I didn't punch him. All I did was throw some mud at him."

"Do you remember what it was I told you earlier?"

"That strong men don't get strong just to brag about it?"

"That's right."

Aha! Now I get it. That kid said something about how he was gonna let everyone know I was a demon-lover. How that turned into a lie about me punching him was beyond me, but he was determined to badmouth me.

"I'm not sure what you heard, Father, but-"

"Oh no, you don't!" Paul snapped. "When you've done something wrong, the first thing you do is apologize!"

Sigh. Whatever lie this kid told, my father clearly bought it. Great. This was going to be crap. At this point, even if I told the truth about saving Sylph from those bullies, it'd just sound like an outright lie. Still, all I could do was explain what happened from the beginning.

"Okay, so I was walking down the road when-"

"No excuses!" Paul grew even more irate.

He had no intentions of hearing me out. I could have just said "sorry" and been done with it, but I felt like that won't be fair to Paul. I didn't want him making a habit of behavior like this with my future younger siblings. I doubt they would be a reincarnation capable of talking back to him. They would probably just cry about how unfair this was. Best case, they come to resent him. Worst case, they run away from home or something like that. You're welcome, Paul. Thank me in the future. This method of punishment wasn't fair. Not to mention, I was getting fed up with this myself. I was lucky my hood was still over my eyes-I'm pretty sure my glare could freeze a man solid, literally.

I kept my mouth shut.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Paul demanded.

"Because if I do, you're just going to yell at me not to make excuses."

Paul's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"Before a kid can even say anything, you yell at them and make them apologize. Everything is so quick and easy with you adults. Must be nice."

"Rudy!"

A hot jolt of pain ran through my cheek.

He slapped me.

I expected as much: talk shit, get hit.

That's why I held my ground. I was never beaten before. Even my grandfather or father in my past life never went that far. Or was it because I never did anything I wasn't supposed to? I'm not sure. I snapped my fingers, and a few runes appeared on my cheek. They vanished a second later, taking the bruise and pain with them. I could never cast healing spells without incanting for some reason. It was the same in my past life-I was awful at healing spells.

"Father, I have always put in the utmost effort to be a good son. Not once have I talked back to you or mother, and I've always done my best to do whatever you both tell me."

"That...that had nothing to do with this!"

It didn't look as though Paul had intended to strike me. There was a distinct look of consternation in his eyes. Nevermind that. It was good for me.

"Yes, it does. I've always done my best to keep your mind at ease and to get you to trust me, Father. You didn't listen to a word I said, and not only did you take the word of someone I don't know and yell at me, you even raised your hand to me,"

"But this Somal kid got hurt..."

Hurt? That's news to me. I never did anything to hurt him. This whole thing about me hurting him was also a dumb lie. If I wanted to hurt him, he would have come home with something hundreds of times worse than a black eye.

"Even if it does wind up that it's my fault he got hurt, I'm not going to apologize for it," I said. "I didn't go against anything you taught me, and I'm proud of what I did."

"Wait, hold on. What happened?"

Huh? So now he's interested. It was his own fault for not listening to me.

"What happened about not wanting to hear excuses?" I snapped.

Paul's face twisted into a frown. It seemed I was close to his breaking point. A little more sarcasm and exaggeration should do the trick.

"Please don't worry, Father. The next time I see three people going after someone who won't fight back, I'll ignore it. In fact, I'll jump in, so it's four against one. I'll let everyone know that the Greyrats take pride in bullying and ganging up on the weak. But once I grow up and leave home, I'll never use the Greyrat name again. I'll be too ashamed to let anyone know I belong to a family so horrid they ignore actual violence and accept verbal abuse."

Paul fell dead silent. His face turned red, then went pale, and there was conflict in his expression. Was he going to be made? Or had I still not pushed him over the edge? You should quit while you're ahead, Paul. I know I don't look like it, but I won arguments against even the noble families of the Clocktower-though it was thanks to pure luck. There's no chance of you besting me in a debate. Not to mention, I'm in the right!

"I'm sorry," Paul said, hanging his head. "I was wrong. Tell me what happened."

That's much better. Knowing when to tuck your tail in is best for both of us. Like you said before, and I quote, "When you've done something wrong, the first thing you do is apologize." Relieved, I explained the details of the situation as objectively as I could manage.

"So, yeah," I said. "If I'm going to apologize, this Somal Kid needs to apologize to Sylph first. You heal soon enough when you're hurt physically, but emotional damage doesn't go away so quickly."

Paul's shoulders drooped despondently. "You're right. I had this all wrong. I'm sorry."

When I heard that, I recalled what Raws had told me earlier: "Talking to you makes one feel like an underqualified parent." Had Paul's attempt at scolding me been him trying to show more of his paternal side? Well, if so, he'd lost this round.

"You don't need to apologize. In the future, if you think what I've done is wrong, by all means, scold me as you like. All I ask is you hear me out first. There will be times when words don't cut it, or it's just going to sound like I'm making excuses, but if I have something to say, please just try to see my side of things."

"I'll keep that in mind. I mean, I don't expect that you'll be wrong in the first place, but-"

"When I am, use that as a learning opportunity for disciplining whatever younger brother or sister you wind up giving me in the future."

"Yeah. I'll do that." Paul sounded quite self-deprecated.

The man was in poor spirits. Had I gone too far? Losing an argument with your five-year-old son is bound to lower your self-esteem.

"By the way, Father, how old are you?"

"Hmm? I'm twenty-four."

"I see."

So, he would have been nineteen when he married and had me? I didn't know the average age for marriage in this world, but with things like phantasmal beasts and war and such being an everyday occurrence, that sounded pretty appropriate. Well, whatever. Marriage is still far on my to-do list.

"Father, could I bring Sylph over to play sometime?"

"Hm? Oh, of course."

Satisfied with that response, I headed into the house with my father. I was glad he didn't hold any prejudice against demons. Otherwise, he would be in for another long, and I mean extremely long "chat."

...

...

PAUL

My son got angry.

He, who has never expressed himself much before, had a quiet fury within him now. How did things end up like this?

It started this afternoon when Mrs. Eto came to our home to make a huge fuss. She brought her child, Somal, who was one of the neighborhood brats. One of his eyes was badly bruised. As a swordsman, I had enough experience to see that it was a sign of being punched.

Mrs. Eto wasn't clear, but in any case, her words pointed to one thing.

My son has hit Somal.

I was actually relieved to hear this. It was probably Rudy wanting to join Somal and company to play. But my son is different from other children. He's already a water-saint mage. He must have arrogantly said something and gotten into a fight after being rebutted. Although my son is honest and smart, he's still a child.

Mrs. Eto made it seem like a big deal, but it was just a kids' quarrel. I'm sure that injury won't even leave a scar. I'll finish things with a few lines of scolding. Children will quarrel, but Rudy is more powerful than any other child.

Besides being a disciple of the young Water-Saint ranked magician Roxy, he's also taught by me and trained his body since he was three years old. It would have been a one-sided affair. It should be okay if it's only today, but if he gets too emotional, he might overdo things. Plus, Rudy's so intelligent that he should be able to solve things without hitting Somal. I must teach him that fighting is a lack of thinking things through, and he needs to consider the aftermath before acting. I need to be stricter here.

But things didn't turn out the way I envisioned. My son didn't intend to apologize at all.

Never mind about him apologizing-he's even looked at me like I was a bug.

Maybe from my son's point of view, it's a fight against numbers, but he needs to realize that the stronger you are, the more you need to be conscious of your own strength. He even injured someone. In any case, I'll let him apologize. He's really clever. Maybe he can't accept it now, but he'll find an answer by himself sooner or later.

After I thought of that and used a harsher tone to scold him, he refuted me with a few sarcastic remarks. I lost my temper to his provocation and hit him. Even though I wanted to teach him that the powerful need to be conscious of their own strength and not use violence against the weak. I did it first, but I'm an educator, so I can't apologize. Telling someone not to do what I just did-this argument doesn't hold any water.

While I was incoherent, my son stated he'd done nothing wrong and said if it's not okay, he'll leave this home. I nearly told him to get lost right then and there, but I restrained myself. I have to restrain myself at this moment.

I was the one who couldn't bear my home's formal rules and my strict father's rebukes. My resentment grew to the point we had a huge fight that ended with me storming out of the house.

I inherited my father's blood. That stubborn, rigid father's blood. Rudeus is the same. Looking at this stubborn part, Rudeus is indeed my child.

That day, when I was told to leave immediately, I couldn't find a way out and departed. Rudeus would probably go too. Though he said he'll only leave after growing up, if I told him to leave, he'd leave immediately. We are alike in this aspect.

I heard that Father fell sick not long after I left and died. I heard that he terribly regretted that day's quarrel. And to this incident, I blamed myself. No, to be clear about this, I was drowning in regret. And right now, if I told Rudeus to leave, he would surely do so, and I would regret this. Both of us would regret this. I must learn from experience. Also, didn't I promise back then? That I won't become like my father?

"I'm sorry. I was wrong. Tell me what happened." I apologized, and Rudeus relaxed.

He went on to explain what happened. Based on what he said, he incidentally saw Rawls' kid being bullied, so he helped that kid. There wasn't any beating. He only threw mud, and there wasn't a fight at all.

If what he said is true, then what Rudeus did is something to be proud of. But instead of praising him, I didn't listen to his explanations and hit him.

...

Ahh, I remember now. I had countless experiences like this when I was younger. Father didn't listen to me and only pointed out my weaknesses. I was miserable. I'm a failure, aren't I?

Yet Rudeus didn't blame me for it. He even consoled me at the end.

What a great kid. Is he really my son?

No. Zenith wasn't the type to have an affair. And besides, no one in the world's good enough to produce a child like him. Man, how is my seed this good? Rather than pride, I felt an ache in my gut.

"Father, could I bring Sylph over to play sometime?"

"Hm? Oh, of course."

But I think I should be happy that my son made his first friend.

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So, what do you all think? Not bad, I hope. I apologize if there are any mistakes.
Anyways, Please like, share, follow, and comment.
As always, good luck with your game of life.