Reborn As Papa Silva

Chapter 13: Changing Fate (2)

The orange and reddish paint, that tinted the skies, was replaced by a dark blue, as the sun that shone over Hage, dipped below the horizon. A gentle breeze, graced the forsaken realm, offering a strange sense of comfort, for this remote area. Allowing the villagers, to blissfully enter their dreams, uncaring or worried about the predators and critters that stocked their village from the distance.

Along a winding cobblestone path, Sebastian and Dorothy cloaked in their contrasting wear, walked silently, side-by-side, footsteps in sync, as they made their way back to the Grimoire Tower. Regardless of the darkness that engulfed their surroundings, they were able to make out the silhouette of the looming ancient structure from afar, its shadow a beacon, to guide them to it.

Breaking the silence; Dorothy, with her eyes, which seemed to reflect the dying daylight, adding to their transcendent form, flashed Sebastian a teasing smirk, bending her back forward, and turning her head, diagonally upwards, attracting his attention.

As he looked, down to her in silent questioning, she let out an inquisitively playful laugh. "Why are we coming back here? Neither of us lacks a grimoire," the young lady, couldn't hide her curiosity.

Without giving Sebastian time to answer, she stood upright and nudged his ribs lightly with her elbow. "What are you after Father?" She enunciated that title, with a mock undertone, of reverence, and filial piety.

Furrowing his brows, Sebastian, couldn't help but let out a deep sigh, gaze still locked on her, he satisfied her snoopiness. Somewhat.

"There's something I want to check", he began, voice calm and indifferent as always, before it took a sharp turn for a try at dry humor. "Daughter", he responded to her address, with an unfamiliar one of his own. The edge in his tone was more comedic than offended.

Dorothy giggled softly, her laughter genuine, utterly unbothered, and unphased by the response. She skipped a few steps ahead of Sebastian, the hem of her vibrant pink cloak fluttering in the breeze. Humming a soft tune under her breath, her melody matched the light chirps of the birds and faint twitches of the crickets still awake.

As they neared closer to the tower, her steps and palpable excitement, visibly slowed, and she gave a hesitant glance back to Sebastian over her shoulder, her expression marred with uncertainty.

"Do you think..." she started with her voice soft, barely a whisper, "Do you think Nozel and your family will accept me." The silence that followed was deafening, even the forest and nightlife, seemed to die down.

The question caused Sebastian to falter in his stride, for the faintest of moments, but falter, nonetheless. Studying Dorothy quietly, as she fidgeted under his gaze, hesitant to meet his eyes, he cleared his throat. He could've decided to soften his words and offer her a comforting lie, but he already vowed not to deceive her, so he opted for honesty. The cold-hearted truth.

Stopping his movement and waiting for her to look up at him, he opened his mouth, as she fully focused on him. "It might be uncomfortable at first", he weighed each word carefully before slowly moving on, "but I'm positive they'll come around."

As hope began to dance in Dorothy's eyes, he continued, "My wife Acier, and my youngest Noelle, I'm sure will be very receptive of you...", he paused with his gaze drifting upwards at the starry sky, before looking at her once more. "However, my eldest daughter Nebra...and second son Solid, might outright reject you. What those two fear most in life is change, don't be surprised if it takes years before they warm up to you."

Dorothy, stiffened at that, the tension in her body was clear, with the slight tremble of her legs, and clenching and unclenching of her hands that dangled at her sides. Her previous light-heartedness faded away, like a mask being removed, as she returned to that fragile lonely girl, who was searching for her place in the world. Sebastian studied the tightening of her jaw and watched her inhale a dry lump in her throat, as she struggled to maintain her composure.

Sebastian sighed once more, softer this time, frustrated that he had to be blunt, but aware that a lie here could cause so much more pain. Because that would give her expectations, and nothing is more painful than dashed and failed expectations. Steeling his resolve, he placed a hand on her shoulder, stilling her trembling figure like an anchor, and continued.

"As for Nozel..." He began to trail off, hesitant to voice these words that could further break her, as he narrowed his eyes lost in thought. "I don't really understand my son." Sebastian conceded and spoke, but it seemed more like to himself than, Dorothy. "There is so much about him, that is unreadable, as I'm rarely in a position to see his aloofness crack. That is a privilege, he reserves solely for his mother."

Sighing in frustration, Sebastian cracked his knuckles one by one, trying to keep calm and measured. "Nozel is far too mature, and professional for his age. Far too pragmatic. I'm quite positive he's not looking for a romantic relationship right now." Or possibly even ever, his father didn't exactly make the idea of fatherhood, tempting, he probably fears becoming me, with a passion.

A mix of bitter pride and disappointment seeped into Sebastian's tone, as he let out a wry chuckle. "That boy reminds me too much of myself, the man I don't want to be ever again, in so many ways. He probably recognizes that himself, which is why he despises me more than anyone. His cold-hearted logic, assessments, and reasoning, weighing all of his choices carefully in advance like an investor, looking for the pros and cons, before deciding whether it's worth acting."

Sebastian let out a deeper sigh, one of resignation, before meeting Dorothy's hopeful gaze once again. He ignored the light in her eyes, bit his lip, and finished his point. "He'll probably marry you, Dorothy. No, he'll definitely do so. But not out of love, longing, or desire, just because there are few better choices than you, to sire children with, and continue on the Silva bloodline. It'll be a loveless marriage...where he probably won't feel anything special for you, what you desire for a while."

Dorothy didn't respond right away. She didn't have to, the way her eyes dulled, and the light reflecting in them, exiled to the void, was answer enough. Her jolly visage was uncharacteristically blank. She forced out a small awkward (and oh so ugly) smile, wearing her mask once more like this revelation didn't bother her in the slightest. But Sebastian Silva was not one to miss the regret that briefly flickered in her lavender pearls, that should be so full of life.

Sebastian Silva can't give Dorothy Unsworth unreal expectations. But he can give her hope, that has truth to it. Stepping closer to the frozen girl, Sebastian's voice softened further. Gone was his blunt indifference, his tone gentler, more compassionate, and reassuring.

"That being said, I might be biased. I've been absent in my children's lives for far too long to be a good judge of their character. I'm only speaking to you, based on future visions, and daily reports on their actions I would receive from my butler, so I could monitor them, and assess their worth to me, House Silva, and the Kingdom."

"What I'm confident about, is that there are few people in this world that cherish their family and loved ones more than Nozel Silva. It's just about him recognizing you as family. When that happens, you'll find yourself with a better partner, than you can ever dream of. You won't hear it in his words, but if you give him a chance, and watch him closely, you'll see it in his actions."

Dorothy looked back up to him, light flickering in her eyes on and off, as Sebastian placed his other hand over her other shoulder. "But even if Nozel, my wife, my entire family, rejects you, refuses to acknowledge you, to accept you...it won't matter because I will. You'll always have a home, a place to belong in Castle Silva, even if you break your engagement with Nozel and go your separate ways, because from now on you are my daughter. And nothing will change that."

There was a moment of heavy silence, and this time the light flickering in her eyes, stayed. Dorothy's forced smile, peeled away, as it became something genuine, so broad it could light up a room. Her eyes softened and then, in a sudden burst of energy, she twisted out of his grasp, before slapping him hard on his back, the sound echoing the quiet forest, startling many critters awake.

Not paying any heed to Sebastian's winded expression, who hurriedly rubbed his back in pain. Dorothy shouted, "Old man!" Her voice refilled with warmth as she broke back into another playful skip, darting ahead of him. "Hurry up! The tower's not going to wait for you!"

But it will though!

Sebastian wanted to curse, but couldn't bring himself to, watching her twirl and frolic through the forest, like it was a common garden, edging infinitely closer to the Tower as her infectious laughter filled the air.

For a brief moment, Sebastian merely watched the girl, his stern visage, replaced by a soft tender smile. "Foolish girl", he muttered softly under his breath, but there was no real heat in his words, only an ever-growing affection.

Exhaling a breath of relief, and shaking himself out of his warm reverie, Sebastian lengthened his stride, his boots clicking rhythmically on the cobblestone, until he was walking side-by-side with his daughter once more.

As he caught up to her, he looked at her subtly for a moment, before remembering something. Reaching into his satchel bag, he pulled out an extra magic transponder, that he was originally planning on gifting her immediately, but forgot, as their conversation took a much more solemn and unexpected turn.

The transponder was a new model, much sleeker, a more expensive, than the ones that usually grace the market. It almost looked modern in its pitch-black design, adorned with silver lining, and intricate magic runes. Almost. The magic gem, on its head, sprouted like a microphone. Resulting in the craftsman's detailed design efforts being obsolete. The gem stood out like a sore thumb, and despite it undoubtedly being the most expensive part of the device, it was also the source of ire on the device.

Ignoring those thoughts, Sebastian wordlessly held the device out in front of her. Dorothy was no stranger to devices like these, as the Witch Forest was home to many strange contraptions, as many witches would isolate themselves in workshops to invent things, that could distract them from living in an open-air prison.

She let out a low whistle of appreciation, before shooting Sebastian a sly look. "Well, well, well...", she mused her voice tinged with mischief, "you weren't kidding about being rich."

That's royalty for you.

There was a teasing glint in her eyes, which earned her a sideways glance from Sebastian. "Don't be too impressed," his dry voice drawled out, into her ears. "This is the bare minimum for a member of House Silva. Every servant, maid, butler, guard, chef, you name it, is equipped with one as well."

The Silva's are filthy rich after all. More wealth than they could spend in a few generations, so why not just invest a bit more, to make themselves look cool?

Dorothy raised a brow at that because, despite her very recent arrival to the Clover Kingdom, she was quite confident that this transponder wasn't some common toy. Even by noble standards.

Uncaring for her thoughts, Sebastian explained, with his voice soft, but concrete. "This one," he pointed to the transponder, she twirled in her hand, "is linked directly to my own. So, if you need anything, you can contact me immediately. No excuses, alright?"

A warm smile tugged at Dorothy's lips. "Alright", she nodded, before carefully storing the transponder into her cloak, nestled tightly beside her grimoire. There was a certain warm feeling in the gift, although it was mundane and practical, and not some grandiose gesture, she would cherish it because it was the first thing she'd ever been given from outside her homeland. And from her new father, no less.

Watching her tuck her transponder into her cloak, her clothes already starting to bulk, Sebastian began to ponder for a moment, before nodding to himself, coming to terms with a decision.

"When we get home," he caught her attention once more with his calm but firm voice. "I will be adding you to the family registry." He paused and considered his next words. "So, I can give you your first allowance."

Dorothy blinked at that before reiterating, "Allowance?" She repeated back to him, as her questioning look, faded into a quirky smile, dancing on her lips.

Sebastian nodded, adopting a matter-of-factly persona. "As a member of House Silva and daughter of the family head, it's only natural for you to receive a monthly stipend. A sizeable amount at that. Feel free to use it to buy yourself a satchel to hold your belongings, and anything else that catches your eye. If you run out, just come to me again, House Silva lacks few things, and money is not one of them."

Dorothy felt an inexplicable, feeling in her chest. Not only brought about by him casually addressing her as his daughter, already dedicating a portion of House Silva's wealth to her, or promising to make their relationship official and add her to the family tree.

No more than that, it was four words, that flowed naturally from his mouth. When we get home.

Home. She Dorothy Unsworth, has a home. One that isn't that damned cage.

Looking up at her guardian, Dorothy flashed him a truly genuine and unguarded smile. Her figure was illuminated under the full moon's reflection. "Thank you," two simple words that were voiced with barely a whisper, but they got the message, and all that was left unsaid, across.

Sebastian didn't voice a response, the flicker in his eyes, was enough to represent his acknowledgment. He looked upwards and stopped as the cobblestone path finally ended, and they arrived at their destination.

Just like always, the Tower stood, tall and loomed over all life, in the heart of the forest, a large clearing was dedicated to the structure. Sebastian sighed in relief, seeing no lights or lamps crackle in the windows. The place was thankfully deserted now, compared to how lively it had been just a few hours ago.

Even Drouot seemed to have left for home, which made Sebastian grateful, because the worst possible outcome, would be if the old wizard had lived here. Sebastian came to Hage, not just for Dorothy but to visit this grimoire tower, for a very specific reason. He wouldn't dare to enter the one, in the royal capital, as it's always guarded and under scrutiny, so his actions would undoubtedly raise suspicions.

But here in Hage where the presence of Magic Knights is nonexistent, he could be a bit bolder. Of course, I'd be more ideal if people like Conrad and Julius didn't give him a jump scare and pop out in front of him, in places like this.

Turing to his daughter Sebastian spoke softly. "Dorothy", he began his voice low, "You're the only one I've ever told of my prophetic powers."

The petit girl, blinked in surprise, her eyes widening, once she fully processed the words. "Really?" She asked incredulously, "No one else, not even your family?"

Sebastian nodded slowly and spoke with a complicated voice. "Not even them. And by the way, your mother broke you, hopefully not ever them."

Dorothy's breath hitched, as she felt like she was about to relive all that bottled-up trauma once more. The idea of one's future is set in stone, written out like a story, and no matter what they do or the choices they make, they will always end up at the same end. She hates fate. She knows what it's like to be driven to despair, thinking of it, desperately trying to escape it, only for it to chase you down. Although she can't speak for everyone, she can understand many will be better off not ever having their future foretold, because when it's unpleasant, and they fail to change it, they'll come out of it far worse.

Dorothy Unsworth can't speak for everyone, but she's certain she doesn't want his- no their family to experience that pain as well.

Looking upwards to Sebastian, Dorothy gave him a solemn nod, before raising her right hand up to him, She curled her fingers into a ball, into a fist, and outstretched her pinky finger. She waited for him to respond, with a playful glint in her eyes.

Sebastian blinked, at the gesture, not able to hide his bewilderment. His brows furrowed slightly, suspicious, but not positive if she was doing what he thought she was doing.

"It's called a pinky promise," Dorothy said with a small, mischievous smile. "It's a vow that I'll keep this secret between the two of us forever."

For a moment, Sebastian was speechless. He was not the least bit surprised to see such a childlike gesture from someone like Dorothy, but rather because that something so familiar existed here. A pinky promise? He never expected to have a trip down memory lane in another world. It's weird how nostalgic a simple, shake can make someone.

Then again, he mused, if this world has fist bumps and high fives, why not pinky promises?

A chuckle escaped his lips, and he reached out, wrapping his pinky around hers in a gentle, almost reverent motion. "It's a promise, daughter," he said, his voice softer than usual, but no less firm.

Dorothy giggled, her earlier seriousness melting away as she squeezed his pinky with hers. "Yes, father," she replied, her voice light but filled with affection.

A simple vow, that broke the last big barrier, between the two. They were now partners in crime you could say, and they'd only get closer from here on out.

Releasing the hold, Sebastian stared down the twin wooden doors, marking the tower's entrance. "Dorothy", he softly broke the quiet, "I'm a prophet so there will come many times in life when you'll see me do things that don't make a shred of sense. Like sneaking into a Grimoire Tower after dark, despite already having a grimoire of my own."

He locked her gaze with his own and continued. "At times like these, I just need you to trust me...and give me a little space."

Dorothy stared at him for a beat, taking a little while to understand his point. She gave him a soft smile and shrugged her shoulders, utterly laid back. "No problem, I'll wait for you out here."

Sebastian gave her a light nod, internally relieved by her quick wit and sensitivity. "Thank you", he voiced his earnest gratitude as he pushed the twin doors open, the worn hinges squeaked in soft protest.

Before he stepped inside, he paused and popped his head back out the door. "If anything happens," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, "contact me immediately."

Dorothy gave him a quick nod, her smile never fading. "I will," she promised.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment longer. "And be wary of people... animals... magical beasts," he added, the caution in his voice almost parental.

Dorothy let out a small, amused laugh, raising an eyebrow. "I will," she said again, the same playful lilt to her voice.

He nodded, his eyes scanning her for any signs of concern before he disappeared back behind the door. But just as it began to close, it creaked open again, and Sebastian's head popped back out. "And don't fall asleep."

This time, Dorothy sighed, more exasperated than before. "I know, Father," she said, drawing out the words in a tone that was equal parts fond and annoyed as if she had heard this lecture a thousand times.

Sebastian gave a satisfied nod and finally shut the doors behind him, the echo of their closing reverberating down the dark, empty hall that awaited him inside.

Walking through the pitch-black hallway, Sebastian was frustrated, by his blindness. "Stupid old fart, couldn't you leave some lamps on", Sebastian cursed Drouot under his breath. He had to watch his step, as the floor wasn't leveled and had many holes, that could trip him up or cause him to stumble.

Sebastian Silva, for the first time in his life, regretted that he was not a fire mage. If there were reporters in this world, the media, and House Vermillion, would surely have a field day.

Closely losing his patience, Sebastian's eyes lit up, in realization. His grimoire flew out of his satchel and radiated its bluish magical hue, illuminating the hallway, like a lantern. It's brilliant, almost blinding glow, caused insects and rodents to scurry away into the holes in the brick wall.

Clever Grimoire. Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle to himself in satisfaction, as he slowly followed it, as he made his way out of the hall, before arriving at the main room.

His grimoire floated inside, revealing the room, where the grimoire acceptance ceremony is held. A circular room, with shelves, upon shelves, holding countless grimoires, laying silently, like ordinary books, awaiting their rightful owner.

Unlike his grimoire, Sebastian stopped short of the entrance, hesitant to take the final step and enter the room. It wasn't fear or a strange mix of anticipation and excitement that held him back, but rather just a flurry of thoughts.

He reflected on the body, he transmigrated into, and how he assumed the identity of Sebastian Silva. How did I even end up here? Was a question, that he often thought about in his free time, but wasn't really the main cause of his concern, because he doubted, he would get an answer anytime soon.

No, what he was more concerned about was, what happened to the previous Sebastian Silva. The original, the real one. He had been pulled into a strange world, into a body of some noncanonical character, and effectively usurped his identity, with no resistance as far as he could recall, no rejection whatsoever, with none the wiser.

He was no stranger to the idea of multiple souls inhabiting a single body. It was a theme that Black Clover had frequented many times. There were plenty of examples- be it William and Patri sharing a single vessel, Julius and Lucius, Yuno and Litch's son, not to mention the hundreds of Clover Kingdom citizens that had reincarnated as elves, during the whole Eye of the Midnight Sun fiasco. Two souls, one body.

But his situation felt different than the others, forget about communication, he couldn't even sense another presence, another consciousness inside this body. There was no internal dialogue, struggle, or battle for who would control this body. He was sure he was alone; this body was his now.

Sebastian furrowed his brow, struggling to piece together the puzzle of his situation. If I'm not like William or Patri, then... maybe I'm more like Yuno and Licht's son. He remembered how Yuno carried the soul of Licht's child within him—a bond not of possession, but of fusion. Two halves of the same being, yet still individuals in their own right. A fusion, he mused, not possession.

He let out a heavy sigh, trying to apply that idea to himself. I've fused with the original Sebastian Silva. That much he was certain of. He had absorbed everything—Sebastian's skills, his memories, his emotions, and all the finely tuned details of his past life. The way his body reacted to magic; the instincts embedded in muscle memory—it all belonged to the Sebastian of this world. But even with all of that, Sebastian knew he wasn't him. He was still himself, with his own set of emotions, his own goals, his own principles. Different from the man whose body he now inhabited.

It's like I'm 30 percent Sebastian and 70 percent me, he thought, trying to make sense of the merging identities. It felt like a new version of himself had emerged, a fusion of both, but with his consciousness in the driver's seat. It was his soul in control now, not the original Sebastian's.

But the questions only deepened. If magic and mana are tied to the soul, what does that mean for me? He glanced down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if expecting some revelation to spring forth. Do I have my own magical attribute? My own power? His mind raced through possibilities. If the original Sebastian possessed magic, that power should now belong to him as well. But what about his soul, the one from a world without mana? Did that make him powerless here?

Am I like Asta and Liebe? The thought nagged at him. Is my soul empty of mana because of where I come from?

He frowned, frustration gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. It has to be the former, he hoped. In a world like this, being anything less than extraordinary wasn't just a disadvantage—it was a death sentence. The idea of being just a noble with wealth and status but no real power chilled him to the core. Sure, there were stories of people growing strong despite not having magical talent. Magna, for one, had clawed his way up with barely any mana, turning himself into a force to be reckoned with as a Magic Knight. And Rock Lee, from another world entirely, had done the same despite being unable to use ninjutsu.

But Sebastian wasn't sure he had even half their determination or drive. Could he really make a name for himself without some kind of magical cheat to lean on? He doubted it. I need something, he thought, the weight of it sinking in. An edge. Because in a world steeped in magic, being ordinary wasn't just a curse—it could be fatal.

He stared into the room ahead, feeling the pressure of the moment mounting. He had run through all the possibilities, and weighed every scenario in his mind. There was only one way to find out if he was special or not.

He'd thought about it long enough.

So, Sebastian took that final step and entered the room. The books all remained silent, but he didn't expect a reaction right away. He slowly studied the ancient books, as he stopped in the center of the room. This was the moment for him to finally receive some clue as to what kind of state he was in. He can theorize all he wants, but at the end of the day, he needs evidence to come to a concrete answer.

When in doubt find out.

All the grimoires sat silently on their shelves, looking no more remarkable than ordinary library books, powerless until they connected with someone worthy. Let's hope I'm one of them, Sebastian thought.

With a deep breath, he stretched out his arms, palms open, heart hammering in his chest with an uneasy mix of anticipation and dread. This is it. Come on... just one grimoire, any reaction.

He waited.

Seconds crawled by, turning into a minute. Then two. The room remained eerily still, the grimoires unresponsive, showing no sign of recognizing him. His hands began to feel heavy, but he kept them raised, straining for something—anything—to happen. His breath came shallow as the silence stretched on, thick and oppressive. No glowing light, no mystical tome floating off the shelves to meet him.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally let his arms fall, his shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment. He exhaled sharply, the sound echoing in the empty hall. Of course. No magical gift, no special grimoire, no cheat code to give him an edge.

His gaze drifted up to the high ceiling, as if the answers to his frustration might be hidden there. "Figures..." he muttered, bitterness creeping into his voice. The disappointment twisted in his gut, threatening to pull him into the same self-pity he'd always tried to avoid. He had come all this way, hoping this world would give him something to set him apart—something to make him special.

But just like before, the universe seemed content to let him be ordinary.

Sebastian slapped both his cheeks, the sharp sting snapping him out of his downward spiral. He wasn't going to let a little disappointment break him. Not here, not now. In this world where magic ruled everything, there were still plenty of ways to get stronger. He squared his shoulders, forcing himself to remember what he already knew. There's Ki, Zetten, trap magic, mana method... so many paths to power. He didn't need a second grimoire like Yuno or demonic powers like Asta to make a name for himself. His starting point was already leagues ahead of someone like Magna Swing—and Magna had fought and beaten Dante, a host of one of the strongest devils, purely through grit and determination.

If Magna can do that, then there's no reason I can't, Sebastian thought, the sting of his own slap already fading. If someone like Magna could claw his way up from the bottom of the ranks, then surely he—someone with status, resources, and at least a decent amount of talent—could do the same. No, better. He wasn't just aiming for strength; he had no intention of being ordinary anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he shoved his frustration aside. Maybe the lack of a reaction from the grimoires wasn't because he was unworthy. Yuno hadn't gotten his second grimoire until he'd fought to the brink of death, until his soul had resonated with Licht's son in the Spade Kingdom library. Maybe that's what Sebastian needed too—his own moment of desperation, a life-or-death struggle to awaken his magic. It was far too early to give up now.

He exhaled, turning to leave, his earlier disappointment giving way to a quiet but firm determination. This isn't the end, he told himself, feeling a new sense of resolve build in his chest. It's just the beginning. He was going to spend every free minute he had training, using the old facility at the Silva estate that had been left to gather dust. The original Sebastian hadn't bothered with it, like most nobles and royals, relying on their natural talent and vast mana pools. But that wasn't his path. He would push himself until his muscles burned and his mana ran dry. If he had to collapse from exhaustion or throw up in the process, so be it. He wasn't going to let himself become a burden in this world of magic.

If I can't at least become as strong as the Wizard King, Sebastian thought grimly, I'll be a disgrace to every transmigrator ever.

As Sebastian walked through the dark hallway, the soft blue glow from his grimoire casting long, eerie shadows on the stone walls, something unexpected happened. The grimoire, which had been quietly floating beside him, suddenly burst into life. The pages flew open with a surge of energy, the sound of paper flipping echoing loudly in the silence. He froze in his tracks, his eyes wide with shock. The once blank pages of the grimoire were now filling themselves with ink, line after line of script appearing as if by some invisible hand.

"What the hell...?" he whispered, barely audible, his voice swallowed by the empty hall.

His mana spiked. It was sudden—rushing through him like wildfire. What had once been the average reserves of a noble were now rising at an alarming rate, surging just below the level of royal power. His breath caught in his throat. This wasn't a gradual increase—it was like something had been unlocked, a floodgate opened inside him, letting all that energy pour through at once.

For a few seconds, Sebastian just stood there, stunned and rooted to the spot. Slowly, his trembling fingers reached for the pages of the grimoire, flipping through them. The air around him crackled with energy, the faint hum of power buzzing beneath his fingertips. Line after line of new spells filled the pages—attack spells, dozens of them, each one radiating raw, unrefined power. He blinked, his mind racing as he took in what he was seeing.

These weren't the neat, refined spells that the original Sebastian had possessed. No, these were gritty, brutal, and violent. They felt visceral, almost predatory in their design, so out of place in the grimoire of a nobleman who had been known for support magic. The original Sebastian's spells had always been composed—healing spells, defensive barriers, carefully measured utilities. There had only been a couple of attack spells, and even those had been restrained, used more for self-defense than anything else.

But these new spells? They screamed of someone else. Someone ruthless. Someone from a different life.

Sebastian's heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the incantations. There was no elegance here, no careful craftsmanship. These were weapons—spells forged with the intent to destroy, to overpower. They were efficient, yes, but merciless. He could feel it in every word etched into the pages.

These spells were his.

Not the original Sebastian's, not some relic of noble upbringing, but his own—crafted from the essence of the life he'd lived before. The power behind them wasn't rooted in centuries of tradition or polished aristocracy. No, it was raw, modern, and perfectly in tune with the mindset of someone who had been thrust into this world from another.

And for the first time, Sebastian didn't feel like an intruder in this body. The grimoire had finally acknowledged him—not as a replacement, but as its true master.

A smile crept onto the corners of Sebastian's mouth as a theory began to crystallize in his mind. So that's it... The original Sebastian had been a support mage, a master of healing, barriers, and sealing spells, with only a handful of basic attack spells to his name. But he, the one now inhabiting this body, was an attack mage at heart. He had fused with Sebastian Silva, and now his own magic was starting to emerge—his grimoire responding to him as a distinct soul, unshackled from the past.

As he flipped through the pages, each spell seemed to affirm his hypothesis. The attack spells weren't just random additions; they reflected his modern sensibilities, his mindset. It all makes sense now. The reason no grimoire had chosen him earlier wasn't a lack of magic; it was because his magical attribute was already tethered to this body. His soul must have been drawn to water magic, explaining why he had ended up in the body of a water mage in the first place.

Sebastian let out a low chuckle, a wave of satisfaction and relief washing over him. He was now a perfectly balanced mage—armed with a diverse arsenal of support, defensive, and offensive spells. This new development, this awakening of his true power, likely stemmed from his realization of his own identity. Despite fusing with Sebastian Silva, he remained independent. That self-awareness had triggered his soul to awaken fully, granting him access to his own mana reserves.

"This... is probably the best outcome," he murmured, a smile spreading across his face. It wasn't some overpowered cheat like a second grimoire, but it was precisely what he needed. And it wouldn't draw attention, either, since everyone knew Sebastian had a few attack spells—even if he rarely used them. Support mages, like Mimosa, often kept offensive spells in their arsenal, even if they weren't their main focus. These gritty, brutal spells would seem like something the original Sebastian had chosen to overlook, perhaps out of pride or because they didn't fit his noble image.

Sebastian smirked, finding it perfectly aligned with his character—the noble politician who refused to dirty his hands with crude, violent magic. As for the surge in his mana, no one would notice unless he gave them a reason to. Only those with extraordinary sensitivity, like Julius or Conrad, or overly perceptive individuals like Mereoleona, would be able to sense the change. Even then, they'd need to be actively looking for it. He felt confident he could maintain the facade for a while, especially considering how nonchalant the original Sebastian had been about training.

In the world of Black Clover, dramatically increasing mana reserves through natural means was nearly impossible. However, it was entirely normal for individuals to unlock hidden potential and tap into dormant parts of their mana. The real Sebastian—a man who had never truly trained—would possess untapped reserves that could easily be explained if questioned. He could simply claim he had been training—and that wouldn't be a lie.

Feeling a sense of calm wash over him, Sebastian smiled to himself. This will work, he thought, the weight of his newfound power settling comfortably on his shoulders. He would fly under the radar, grow stronger, and bide his time until he was ready to unveil the full extent of his abilities. By the time anyone noticed, he would have laid a solid foundation, training relentlessly in the facility back at the Silva estate.

He closed his grimoire, the blue light dimming as he tucked it back into the folds of his cloak. With a satisfied smile, he turned and headed toward the exit, the soft echo of his footsteps fading as he left the Grimoire Tower behind.

Sebastian quietly eased open the heavy doors, careful to prevent them from creaking too loudly as they swung shut behind him. The cool night air wrapped around him as he stepped outside, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the dim starlight filtering through the forest trees. He let out a deep sigh, his gaze drifting to where Dorothy leaned against the stone wall of the tower.

There she was, sound asleep, her head tilted to the side, blowing bubbles through her nose with each breath. Her pink curls danced gently in the breeze, and her face radiated a peacefulness that suggested she hadn't a care in the world. Her arms hung limply at her sides, and her legs were tucked beneath her in an awkward position. It was both endearing and exasperating to see her so relaxed, especially after everything they had just discussed.

Sebastian felt a bead of sweat trickle down his brow. "This girl..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he approached her. Gently, he reached out and tapped her shoulder.

Dorothy didn't stir; there was no reaction from her except for a light snore. But like clockwork, she stood up on unsteady legs and began to follow him, her movements eerily automatic in a strange, sleepwalking daze. Her eyes remained closed as she mumbled incoherently, her feet shuffling along behind him.

Sebastian rubbed his forehead in exasperation as they trudged through the forest. He had grown accustomed to Dorothy's bizarre sleep habits, but that didn't make them any less problematic. Her narcolepsy and parasomnia were serious issues—issues that, if left unchecked, could one day cost her life. He often wondered how she managed to survive the countless battles she had faced, especially with her knack for dozing off at the worst possible moments.

It was nothing short of a miracle. A miracle that she hadn't fallen asleep during a critical fight against someone powerful enough to end her life. His mind flickered back to the future—how Dorothy had squared off against threats like Morris, Lucifero, and Damnatio. Any one of those encounters could have gone horribly wrong if she had nodded off at just the wrong moment. The chilling thought of her drifting into slumber mid-battle, only to wake up dead, sent a shiver down his spine.

How has she survived this long? he wondered grimly. Dorothy was undeniably powerful, but her body's tendency to succumb to sleep whenever it felt like it was a glaring vulnerability. Sure, she could fight while asleep, but what if she faced an enemy who could exploit that weakness? What if, in the future, she collapsed in front of someone too strong for her to handle in that state? There wouldn't be time to react. She'd die, and it would be for the stupidest reason imaginable.

Sebastian clenched his jaw at the thought. Losing Dorothy was a fate he couldn't even begin to contemplate. She had only recently become a part of his life, yet she had quickly grown precious to him—his daughter in all but blood. The very idea of attending her funeral, of having to bury her because she dozed off at the worst moment, filled him with a cold, sinking dread.

No. He couldn't let that happen. He had to find a way to help her, to protect her from this condition. Whether through magic or medicine, he needed to devise a solution. Perhaps when they returned to the Silva estate, he could collaborate with some of the best healers or researchers to find a remedy. Dorothy might have survived until now, but if they were to face the battles that lay ahead, they couldn't afford to take any chances.

He glanced back at her, still sleepwalking behind him, her head bobbing slightly as she stumbled along. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. She really was something else.

"Come on, Dorothy," he murmured under his breath. "Let's get you home before you fall asleep standing up."

With that, they continued their quiet trek through the forest, the soft rustle of leaves the only sound accompanying them on their way back.

Omake:

"Father, do you think Nozel, will love me?" Dorothy asked

Sebastian clasped her shoulders, "Daughter there's something you should know about Silvas!"

"W-what is it?" Dorothy gulped meeting his dead serious eyes

"They're all tsundere's!"

"Tsundere?" Dorothy was confused

Sebastian breathed softly. "I mean, don't be surprised if Nozel ignores you, or treats you coldly, deep down he'll really like you, but is just too embarrassed to show it."

"That's...really weird. And lame" Dorothy couldn't help but say

Sebastian nodded, softly. Noelle is the best example. Solid was too shy to apologize, and Nozel didn't know how to talk to Noelle after the curse was lifted. I guess the most normal one is actually Nebra, though I just might not know her enough.

Sebastian paused deep in thought. If this runs in the family line, is Acier one too?

Authors Note:

Okay, why did this Chapter take so damn long?

That is because Inkstone (Webnovel) recently published a notice, that they would be taking down AI works that violated these three fields:

1. Using AI to plagiarize other works

2. Using AI to translate and publish work that isn't yours

3. Using AI to generate ideas for you, write the work itself entirely, adding extra details and wordiness to your work, and you take credit for it.

Although I haven't violated any of those I'm not willing to take the chance. So congratulations guys I wasted so many tiring hours of my day, to edit this work entirely by myself, save for the very end as he exited the tower and thinks of Dorothy, as I couldn't feel my wrist anymore, and got sick of looking at my screen.

I know you guys who've been complaining about AI, are smug right now because that means from now on there will be no more AI, other than to fix grammar. Or if I'm just having a very bad day, and no longer care if Webnovel axe's this story.

As for Ch 1 - 12 if I ever have the energy perhaps I'll go back and rewrite them, but keep your fingers crossed as I doubt I'll ever do something like that.

If besides all this Webnovel, still takes this work down, just know you can still read this story on Fanfiction and archiveofourown.

As for this Hage arc, because of this change, there will be one more Chapter, as there's one more plot point and character I want to explore in the next Chapter. You guess who?

Now for the bad news. When I say bad, I mean for you, and not for me. Because of all this, I doubt I'll be able to keep a daily update streak anymore. So get ready for fewer updates in a week and lower-quality Chapters.

Hip Hip Hooray.