The Unsho family’s estate was modest, even though I had already seen it once.
Considering the weight their name carried, they could have built something much larger and more extravagant, yet the ones who firmly refused were the Unsho couple.
In other words, Catherine’s parents.
“My apologies. We have such a precious guest visiting, yet we haven’t prepared much,”
said Bradley Unsho, head of the Unsho family, with a gentle smile.
He was a handsome middle-aged man with neatly groomed facial hair and a kind expression.
“No, not at all. I arrived without notice—it’s my fault. I’m only grateful for such a warm welcome.”
“Heh. I heard you’re a friend of my daughter’s. You carry yourself very well.”
“Dad. What is that supposed to mean?”
Catherine shot him a sharp glare.
Her father coughed awkwardly, and his wife covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed.
“I’ve heard the story. You helped our daughter return home.”
Miranda Unsho—Catherine’s mother—resembled Catherine quite a bit.
If Catherine grew older, she would likely look just like her.
She must be approaching fifty, yet aside from a few wrinkles, she looked remarkably young.
Her face looks similar to Catherine’s, but the atmosphere is completely different.
Unlike the boisterous and tomboyish Catherine, Miranda Unsho was calm, graceful, and composed.
It was almost unbelievable that such a daughter came from such refined parents.
As I was thinking this, I felt Catherine’s sharp gaze drift from Bradley to me.
If nothing else, her intuition really was unmatched.
“There isn’t much on the table, but please enjoy,” Miranda said.
“It’s more than enough. To me, this is a feast.”
“Oh my. Listen to how prettily he speaks. A guest so rare to have, I put in the effort myself.”
“You prepared all this yourself, ma’am?”
I couldn’t help but ask—surprised.
Even if they lived simply, it was unusual for the wife of a noble house head to cook personally.
No matter how modest they were, they were still nobles.
And of course, the estate did have a few servants in residence.
They could have handled all the cooking for them.
“I can’t just sit still. If I’m not doing something, I feel uncomfortable.”
“Even so... cooking?”
I glanced at the dishes on the table.
Fitting for a frugal household, the number of dishes wasn’t great. They had prepared just enough for the number of people present.
But the quality looked outstanding.
I knew I shouldn’t judge only by appearance, but it was impossible not to be drawn in.
The delicious aroma wafting since earlier only confirmed it—there was no way such dishes wouldn’t taste good.
“Hahaha. My lovely wife’s cooking is something you never tire of, even if you eat it every day. I’m sure you’ll be satisfied.”
“Oh, honestly. Even if that’s a lie, thank you for saying it like that.”
“Miranda, what do you mean? I’ve always spoken sincerely. At least when it comes to you.”
“Oh my.”
The couple gazed at each other with smiles so warm that it felt like honey was dripping from their eyes.
Beside them, Catherine rubbed her arms as goosebumps rose.
“Enough already, let’s just eat!”
If left alone, her still-affectionate parents might never stop flirting, so Catherine quickly cut things off.
The meal began.
I tasted the food set before me.
The bread was baked perfectly—soft and fragrant.
The soup was seasoned well and slid down the throat smoothly.
The potato dish, made with chopped vegetables, was the same—excellent.
Not long ago, the barbecue Pantos made had been astonishingly delicious, but this was on a different level.
If someone told me a team of top-tier chefs prepared this, I would believe it.
“How is it? Does it suit your taste? I put in some effort.”
“It’s truly delicious, ma’am. Easily among the best I’ve ever had.”
“Oh my. Hearing that makes all my effort worthwhile. Which one did you like the most?”
“Surprisingly, ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) the potato dish suited my tastes. I usually prefer meat, but if it’s this good, I think I could eat only this.”
Miranda laughed softly.
“Oh my. Did you hear that, Catherine?”
“M-Mom!”
Catherine blushed bright red.
While I was wondering what exactly was going on, Miranda covered her smile with her hand.
“Did you know? That potato dish—Catherine made it herself.”
“Catherine?”
I turned to look at her.
Her face had already reddened to the color of a perfectly ripe tomato.
If her temperature rose any higher, steam might burst from her head.
“Is that true?”
“W-Why? Is that a problem?”
Her murderous glare made me feel unfairly attacked.
What did I even do?
Still, as a friend, wasn’t this the perfect chance?
I took another bite of the potato dish and spoke.
“It’s good. Truly.”
“......!”
Catherine stared at me with wide eyes, so shocked she couldn’t form words.
“Hoh hoh. Our daughter almost never steps into the kitchen. You should’ve seen how surprised I was when she did—just because we had a guest.”
“M-Mom! Don’t say that!”
“She wanted you to taste the potatoes she grew herself. She picked the best ones and asked me to teach her how to cook them. She absolutely wanted to serve them herself.”
“Aaaagh!”
Unable to endure it anymore, Catherine snatched the potato dish from in front of me.
“Give me that! You don’t eat it! I’ll eat it!”
“I won’t stop you, but eat some protein too.”
“Aagh! You’re so annoying!”
Catherine admitted defeat with a frustrated howl.
It was improper at a formal dinner table, yet her parents didn’t scold her.
Instead, they watched with warm expressions, touched by their daughter’s honest emotions.
Miranda spoke gently.
“Please speak comfortably. You’re Catherine’s friend—calling me ‘ma’am’ so politely actually makes me embarrassed.”
“No, I’m still your guest...”
“Not at all. You’re our benefactor.”
Bradley nodded at his wife’s words.
“That’s right. Thanks to you, we were able to meet our daughter again. Otherwise, we would have lived the rest of our lives having forgotten she even existed.”
“......”
He was right.
The Unsho couple had been robbed of Catherine long ago by the agents of the Bretus Theocracy.
The Lumenis Church collected talented children—mostly orphans, but not always. Their cruelty extended far beyond that.
They abducted children who still had parents.
With their authority of brainwashing, they could twist a parent’s memories at will.
“To think we forgot something we should never have forgotten... Even now, I feel like I failed utterly as a father.”
“Honey...”
“Dad, how is that your fault? It’s the fault of the bastards who kidnapped me!”
Catherine slammed her fist on the table.
I agreed with her.
“Exactly. And the brainwashing power they used is not something ordinary people can resist. Please don’t blame yourself too much. None of it was in your control.”
“Yes... it was unavoidable. Yet even so, whenever I recall that day, it feels like there’s a hole in the middle of my chest.”
Bradley pressed a hand to his heart.
“When Catherine disappeared, my wife and I fell into despair. Even though we believed we had no child... we still did.
We were depressed, sorrowful, and the emptiness never left us.”
I imagined what the Unsho household must have once been like.
They must have been a very loving family.
Catherine, though mischievous, must have grown up cherished.
Her parents likely poured all their effort and affection into raising her.
If so, she would have grown into an even brighter, more cheerful girl.
But the Lumenis Church destroyed that future.
They abducted her and altered her parents’ memories.
But the despair of losing one’s family cannot truly be erased by brainwashing or memory manipulation.
The mind might forget, but the heart—and deeper, instinct—does not.
They had lost something precious.
Their souls remembered the loss.
And so, the Unsho couple lived in quiet grief.
Until the Holy War ended and Catherine returned.
Over twenty years.
They suffered for more than twenty years.
I closed my eyes gently.
Seeing their harmonious family now made their past suffering far easier to imagine.
Deep within, I felt anger rising.
Even though I myself destroyed the Church, the scars they left behind still haunted the people they hurt.
Revenge was done. Justice was served.
But the wounds carved into the victims’ hearts would not heal so easily.
That grief.
That anger.
Who can possibly compensate them for that?
No shallow comfort—“everyone suffers in life”—could ever apply here.
Twenty years.
Can anyone compare another person’s pain to parents forced to lose their child for more than twenty years?
My fist clenched beneath the table.
“That is why we thank you,” Bradley said.
“......”
“Because of you, Catherine was able to return. Because of you, we regained our memories of her.”
“...Was it not painful?”
In truth, the loss without explanation might have been easier.
To realize, after twenty years, that your child had been taken from you—and worse, that you had forgotten...
The shock must have been indescribable.
“Of course it was painful. I blamed myself for forgetting. But...”
Bradley smiled softly.
“In the end, we met again. My precious daughter.
The joy of that... carried me through everything.”
“Dad...”
“I still remember it vividly. The moment Catherine appeared before us again.”
A few days after the Holy War ended, the Unsho couple received a visitor.
A young girl, holding a scrap of paper with the address written on it, stared at the house with a face full of confusion—joy and sorrow mingled together.
She hesitated repeatedly, unable to accept reality.
A stranger at first glance.
And yet the moment they saw her, the Unsho couple knew.
This is our daughter.
This is the child we longed for. The one we loved so dearly.
After so many years apart, their family recognized one another instantly
and embraced.
With hot, overflowing tears.
“So you see, we owe you our thanks.
You returned to us a joy we had lost. We cannot be repaid for the years stolen from us... but at least the years ahead will not be like that.”
Bradley spoke with steady, unwavering eyes—the eyes of a father who had overcome deep pain.
“You are admirable. Truly. That strength of heart is impressive.”
“Heh. Hearing that from our benefactor makes me proud. But what about you? Catherine told us everything.”
“That...”
Of course she had.
She would have explained who brought her home, how, and at what cost.
She would have shared my name, my identity, and the struggles I endured.
Catherine avoided my eyes, face awkward.
Having spilled more than she intended, she was clearly feeling guilty.
“You already know—I haven’t lived what you’d call an easy life. If anything, it’s been more turbulent than most.”
“Then... are you alright?”
“I’ve known loss very well. Perhaps too well. And that is why it was even more painful.”
All of it—everything I had done—was for one reason: to meet my mother again.
And in that process, I had lived in constant fear.
What if I failed?
What if I could never see her again?
What if I was captured by the Church?
What if I was killed before reaching my goal?
My entire life had been a tightrope walk over an abyss—every second devouring my nerves.
“How did you endure it?”
“It wasn’t easy. I even considered giving up.”
I could have compromised.
I could have learned to live in this world as I was.
No one would have blamed me.
Yet I gambled everything.
Because I was born as my mother’s child.
“But giving up and compromising... was far more painful than what I feel now.”
As a son.
As a human being.
I believed I had to do it.
Failing to do so felt worse than death.
Yes. That was all.
That was why I decided to overturn the world.
For something so small—and so precious.
“You must have suffered terribly,” Miranda said, sniffling.
She must have been in great pain herself, yet she sympathized with mine.
I had expected to be scorned as someone with tainted blood.
Instead, I was comforted.
I had never imagined being consoled for my life by anyone.
Once, I believed such sympathy or pity was poison.
But now...
That warmth...
That gentle feeling...
I didn’t mind it at all.
