Father and Mother

Volume Two

Chapter 69: Father and Mother

As the pale light of dawn spilled from the distant horizon, the tempestuous ‘clouds and rain’ within the room finally subsided.

Within the pink gauze curtains, Ann’s small head rested against Ewan’s chest. A faint blush, a lingering trace of passion, still suffused her exposed skin.

Ewan’s hand gently stroked the girl’s soft, flowing hair, savoring the rare tranquility and tenderness of the moment.

“How is the manor?”

“It’s much the same as always, no significant changes. However, after the master and his companions departed, and with young master attending school, the number of visitors has considerably decreased.”

“That’s good. It’s peaceful.”

“Mm.”

Ann softly assented, then, as if recalling something, she said, “I’ve already sent the young master’s grades to the master and madam. I used the ducal estate’s private channel, so they should have arrived by now. They’ll undoubtedly be delighted when they see them.”

“…Already?”

Ewan was slightly taken aback. He hadn’t even had a chance to share the good news himself, yet the ducal estate already knew his grades?

“The report card was sent directly by the academy. At first, I thought it was someone’s prank, but the academy’s seal cannot be faked.”

“I see…”

“You’re truly remarkable, young master.”

“Just average, really.”

“Young master mustn’t grow complacent. You must continue to work hard.”

“Nonsense. I’ve always been a low-key person, you know.”

“Someone who dates two girls simultaneously can hardly be considered low-key.”

“…A misunderstanding, ahem, that was a misunderstanding.”

Ewan offered an awkward laugh, secretly glancing at Ann’s pretty face from the corner of his eye.

When he saw that her expression remained unchanged at the mention of it, Ewan couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

It seemed Ann had truly changed completely.

The ‘sickness’ in her yandere tendencies had been entirely purged, leaving only the charming bashfulness of a young woman.

This greatly improved Ewan’s mood.

If possible, who wouldn’t want a capable and beautiful maid waiting for them at home every day?

‘Speaking of which, I wonder how Father and Mother are doing.’

****

At the empire’s border, on the Abyss Battlefield.

A crimson haze permeated the sky.

Corpses lay strewn across the ground.

Amidst the pungent stench of blood, two colossal armies, stretching for unknown miles, stood in a tense standoff.

On the human side, the soldiers’ armor was already stained black with blood. Yet, beneath the banners emblazoned with the Dragon-Slaying Blade and the Resplendent Crown, they stood tall and unyielding.

Hundreds of thousands of men remained silent.

Then, amidst that silence, a thunderous laugh suddenly erupted.

A man whose beard resembled a lion’s mane, ignoring the pleas of his subordinates, leaped out from the central army’s tent.

His piercing gaze swept across the oppressive, dark mass of the demon army.

“Old Demon Mountain, come out! Let’s have a fight, you and I!”

The demon army stirred slightly, and then a figure as tall as a mountain slowly emerged from the pervasive smoke of battle.

“Campbell, have you finally grown tired of living?” Grand Duke Demon Mountain’s voice echoed like a war drum.

“Hahaha, so you became a Crowned One a few decades before me? What are you so arrogant about? Today, I’ll show you the truth: a turtle, no matter how long it lives, is still just a turtle!”

“Scoundrel! You seek death!”

A tyrannical aura surged skyward, tearing directly through the dark, oppressive cloud layer above.

Ronan Campbell laughed heartily, utterly fearless. A resplendent crown rose above his head, and the figure of a crimson lion materialized behind him.

He took a sudden step, charging bare-handed to meet Demon Mountain, who was renowned for his physical prowess.

Boom.

Heaven and earth trembled.

Invisible ripples spread, sweeping across the entire battlefield like a hurricane.

The collision of immense forces actually tore a bottomless chasm directly in the center of the battlefield.

Amidst the swirling dust, Demon Mountain’s eyes, as large as millstones, narrowed slightly.

He hadn’t gained the upper hand in that strike.

‘What’s going on? Ronan Campbell only stepped into the Coronation rank a little over a decade ago. How can he contend with me, a seasoned veteran of nearly a hundred years?’

‘No, his cultivation hasn’t changed since last time. What’s grown stronger… is his momentum?’

Demon Mountain’s mind tensed. ‘What happened? What has made this Ronan Campbell so excited?’

‘Could it be?’

‘Have I already fallen into his trap? No wonder this fellow, who usually acts like a shrinking turtle, suddenly emerged!’

Demon Mountain was slightly startled, his perception rapidly sweeping the surroundings.

However… he found nothing.

“Oh, it seems you’re quite puzzled as to why I suddenly decided to pick a fight with you.”

Ronan stretched his muscles, as if still unsatisfied with the previous strike. His expression was exhilarated, and the lion behind him appeared even more majestic.

“Since that’s the case, I’ll tell you!”

Demon Mountain held his breath, listening intently for the answer.

“My son scored eighty on his exam!”

Ronan roared loudly, his lion-like bellow echoing repeatedly across the vast battlefield. In that moment, he seemed to wish the entire world could hear his words.

“…” Demon Mountain, upon hearing this, fell silent.

‘What did he say?’

‘He said his son scored eighty?’

‘Is that something worth shouting about everywhere?’

‘Or perhaps, my human language skills are insufficient, and I’ve failed to grasp his meaning?’

‘Maybe he’s actually saying something incredibly important.’

‘Like the Leopold Empire’s emperor’s son is actually gay, or something?’

“Haha, eighty, that’s eighty! And it was in the Foundation of Magic Theory class, which my Campbell family is least proficient in. Even I didn’t pass it back then!”

Ronan leaped forward again, actively, crashing towards Grand Duke Demon Mountain like a meteor.

“Do you know how excited I am?”

“Do you know how happy I am?”

“Eighty! My son scored eighty!”

“My son scored eighty!”

A punch. Another punch. And yet another punch.

Ronan seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of strength, continually throwing punches.

He smashed the very earth, creating huge, crater-like indentations.

“Enough!”

Faced with Ronan’s increasingly surging attacks, like waves, Demon Mountain awkwardly fended him off. Then, as if finally unable to bear this damn broken record, he roared, “I know your son scored eighty, but can’t you say something else?”

“Something else?”

Ronan paused.

He thought for a moment.

Then continued to throw punches.

“My son scored excellent!”

“Aren’t you annoyed? My son can also score excellent!”

“…You motherf—!”

Like the Bull Demon King’s imp, spitting foam at the incessant chanting of Tang Sanzang, Demon Mountain inwardly swore a fierce oath at that moment.

If he ever met this guy’s son in the future, he would definitely tear him into ten thousand pieces.

‘Damn your eighty score!’

****

Campbell Territory.

In a tranquil country estate, a gentle woman lay on a reclining chair, reading a letter that had been express-delivered through the Campbell family’s special channels.

This letter was identical to the one Ronan had received.

However, after reading it, Ewan’s benevolent mother, Norah Campbell, did not share Ronan’s joy.

Instead, a hint of worry appeared on her still-charming brows.

“From three points to eighty points, in just over a month. Little Ewan, have you been eating well during this time?”

“I still prefer your carefree self from before.”

Norah gazed at the clear sky through the dense grape leaves, stroking her slightly protruding abdomen, and murmured tenderly, “Do you hear that? Don’t ever learn from your brother, who suddenly changed so much.”

“As long as you don’t provoke the Royal Family or the Church, my Campbell family won’t be so powerless that we can’t ensure you grow up happily.”