When Benedict was young, the word “compromise” had no place in his life.
Even before entering the academy, Benedict had already made a name for himself, single-handedly defeating every knight in the Allen family’s order. Back then, full of naive strength, Benedict believed that whatever he wished for could be achieved.
This conviction only strengthened when he entered the academy. At first, he struggled with studies he’d never encountered before, but his determination not to lose to anyone drove him to success.
After graduation, his life changed little. Loved by the people of his land, he won victory after victory in the kingdom’s wars and saw no reason to curb his arrogance.
But Benedict faced his first failure when he experienced love. He, who had always declared that he had no time to waste on women, fell for someone.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time in his life, he failed to achieve what he wanted. But Benedict didn’t give up.
Not one to be discouraged, he ignored the numerous marriage proposals presented by family elders and pursued his unwavering devotion.
“You’re such a fool.”
That hard-won marriage became the happiest time of his life.
Even now, Benedict could not forget the feeling of holding his daughter for the first time. Afraid that a single wrong move might hurt her, he broke into a cold sweat, while his wife laughed at his awkwardness.
And he would never forget the moment when the little girl gazed at him, giggling as she grasped his finger.
Raising a child was no easy task. Before she could speak, he struggled to understand her needs. When she started talking, her quirky ways became a new source of worry.
Where had she picked up such language? Calling him things like “fool” or “useless.” Benedict often wondered where he might have gone wrong.
“Mira, have we spoiled her too much? Should we be stricter, like others say?” “Benedict, could you even be strict with Lucy?” “...Oh... uh...” “There you go. You can’t, can you? Don’t worry about what others say. We have our own way.”
After his wife, whose health had always been frail, passed away, Lucy’s quirks only intensified. But Benedict was too consumed by his grief to pay her much attention.
Only when he remembered his beloved’s last words did he finally come to his senses.
“Benedict, please take care of Lucy.”
By then, too many things had gone astray, beyond what even the hero “Benedict Allen” could restore.
Thus, he learned the meaning of compromise.
He mastered the art of bowing his head to secure the best outcome for his daughter amid the worst situations.
He became skilled at suppressing his anger and putting on a foolish smile.
That’s why Senare Soladin could stand unharmed before him now.
Though he’d love nothing more than to crush that face, he knew doing so would bind the Allen family in countless chains, and those chains would extend to his daughter.
Benedict wanted his daughter to live in peace, not in turmoil.
So, with bloodshot eyes, he held back his fist.
“Sir Benedict... I mean, this...”
“First, take that foot off my daughter.”
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The oppressive aura that could unnerve even a dragon radiated from him, causing Senare to stumble backward, tripping and falling to the floor.
But Benedict didn’t spare her a glance, instead going to his daughter’s side.
Though Lucy had been crying out in pain moments before, by the time Benedict reached her, she wore her usual bright smile.
“Foolish Father, it seems a bit early to be sneaking out of the party, don’t you think?”
Benedict tried to smile back at her angelic expression, but he failed.
Just how much pain has she endured in my absence, to smile like this?
To smile as if her wounds mean nothing?
The girl who once shed tears over the smallest cut...
“I never intended for things to go this far!”
Hearing Senare’s outcry, Benedict gently patted Lucy’s head and then stood up.
“I know, Senare. I know my daughter’s temperament better than anyone.”
Senare was sharp enough to become the second queen; she wouldn’t have done something so reckless if Lucy hadn’t instigated it.
“Then... if that’s the case...”
“But, Senare, there are limits.”
Today, Benedict understood the meaning of compromise.
He knew that those who mocked and criticized his daughter had their reasons, and raising his voice in anger wouldn’t solve anything.
But even he had limits.
“Let me say this once more, Senare. I hope there is a justified reason for you to have trampled over my daughter.”
Because if not, I cannot promise what I might do.
As he took a step forward, Senare instinctively backed away, not out of conscious thought but from a primal instinct warning her to flee.
But her retreat was short-lived. The clock tower’s confined space wasn’t generous to those who tried to escape. The sound of falling stones signaled her cornered position.
He’s coming.
The monster is coming.
The harbinger of death is approaching.
Despair in human form was advancing.
Senare, a veteran of the battlefield, understood the terror that this despair represented.
A calamity capable of single-handedly turning the tide of war was beyond human capability.
It wasn’t something that people could hope to stop.
Should I just fall?
No, even if I did, that monster would still pursue me.
Should I scream?
But what difference would that make?
Who could possibly stop that monster?
Fear.
Fear.
In the midst of overwhelming terror, the endless wave of despair was broken by a voice, high and cheerful, utterly out of place in the night.
“Papa♡”
Tap.
A small hand reached out to block the giant’s path.
It would’ve been easy to brush it aside, but the giant didn’t. He only waited patiently for the words of the child he loved.
“It’s only natural for an old hag to throw a tantrum♡”
“...Lucy.”
“And I’m tired♡ Is Papa really going to leave me because of that old nag?”
As Lucy held out her arms in a request for a hug, Benedict’s stern face softened into a gentle smile.
“I’m sorry for neglecting you.”
With one arm, he effortlessly lifted her onto his shoulder and, expression hardening once more, glared at the trembling Senare.
“I hope there will be no repeat of today’s events.”
And with that, it was over.
With a single step, Benedict shook the clock tower as he left the academy grounds.
Left alone, Senare took deep breaths to calm her trembling hands and lingering fear.
I wish those fools back at court, who think Benedict Allen has grown old and weak, could have seen that.
How is that “aging”?
A monster remains a monster! Forgetting her composure as a queen, Senare pounded the stone floor in frustration and then ran her hands over her face.
“Nabil. Come out.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Her escort emerged from the shadows of the clock tower wall and bowed respectfully.
“I apologize for not intervening earlier in the tense situation.”
“It’s fine. I know it would’ve only escalated if you’d stepped in.”
From the moment she had drawn her weapon, there had been no turning back.
No matter what, she should never have drawn her weapon in front of Lucy Allen, especially when that girl was so vital to her goals.
“Foolish woman. Letting the past cloud her present.”
I swore to live for the future, and this is what I’ve become.
Cursing her own foolishness, Senare frowned.
Wait.
Why did my reason completely vanish?
It wasn’t just anger. At some point, my rationality simply disappeared.
Yes, right after I insulted Lucy Allen’s mother, and that child’s smile darkened.
Pressing her lips together, Senare recalled the sight of Lucy shielding her father and let out a long sigh.
Family...
In noble society, there’s no such thing as family.
Yet today, I was oddly reminded of Cecil’s grown-up face.
Closing her eyes tightly, Senare finally spoke.
“Nabil, send a messenger to the Allen family. Tell them I intend to apologize in person.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Earning the resentment of Benedict Allen was something I couldn’t avoid.
But it shouldn’t escalate into outright hostility.
That monster alone could tip the scales of power.
If that fails, I may have to win over the girl who can control him.
“Damn it.”
How am I supposed to mend things after that incident?
It’d be more realistic if that monster ordered my execution instead.
“Your Majesty, if I may make a suggestion.”
“What is it?”
“Lady Allen appeared to be sensitive to anything related to her mother. Perhaps an apology addressing that would be appropriate.”
“...Not bad.”
She had once given me a simple bracelet, plain enough that I’d kept it stored away. Now, it might actually be useful.
“Prepare other items related to dungeons or armor as well.”
Meeting Lucy Allen won’t just be for apologies.
“Understood, Your Majesty. Is there anything else?”
“...No, that should be enough.”
After shaking her head, Senare straightened her posture and made her way back to the party.
“I see.”
After hearing everything, Benedict looked out the window with a complicated expression rather than saying anything to me.
Not wanting to disrupt his thoughts, I waited quietly for him to gather himself.
To look at him now, he didn’t seem any different than usual.
But a moment ago, when he’d been so serious, he was terrifying.
The intensity was so overwhelming that even though it wasn’t directed at me, I found myself frozen.
If that power had been aimed at me, I would have been bowing my head, muttering apologies.
Thinking back on the clock tower incident, I pouted as I remembered Senare’s trickery.
‘Grandfather, how do you overcome a lack of experience?’
The reason I’d been so thoroughly beaten by Senare was clear: a difference in experience.
I’d never truly fought against a superior warrior in earnest.
Those like Posell and Karl, who were stronger than me, usually held back to teach rather than truly challenge me.
Against people like Adria or Nakrad, I won more through clever strategies than pure skill.
Even my fight with the Duke of Burrow, while he was possessed, had been a victory through sheer luck.
The thought that Senare could read and counter my moves had never crossed my mind, and it was due to this lack of experience.
<There’s only one way: fight more often and with more intensity.>
‘I suppose so.’
I’d already thought about it before. I need to engage in serious combat with stronger opponents.
To grow stronger, it’s something I must do.
While mentally listing things to accomplish during this vacation, I remembered I had a favor to ask of Benedict.
“Father.”
“Foolish Father.”
“Hmm? What is it, Lucy?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“I have something I’d like to ask, and if you agree, I might just think you’re the best foolish father ever.”
“Whatever you want, just say the word! Your papa will do anything within his power!”
“Well, you see...”
“I want my weak friends to train with our family’s foolish knights.”