How to Replace Your Dad - Chapter 214

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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How to Replace Father
Episode 214
The Reconstruction Council Assembly Hall was in an uproar.
Yustea had been brought in.
The executives of the Reconstruction Council stared at each other with bewildered expressions.
Their faces asked whether they should be pleased or horrified.
Yustea was a Saint with tremendous power.
According to the GM, she was capable of even granting Patterns.
‘She’s a superior version of Calypso.’
The executives swallowed dry saliva.
But….
Yustea repeatedly refused the hand extended by the Reconstruction Council.
And that wasn’t all.
Wasn’t she the one who had imprisoned the Reconstruction Council executives in the Empire’s dungeons?
They couldn’t simply kill her either—Calypso was in their hands.
The executives were wrestling with what to do about her.
Suddenly.
Raphael’s eyes gleamed with cold fire.
He approached Yustea with a smile playing at his lips.
“What an honor to meet the famous Saint herself.”
He pressed his lips to her hand and whispered sweetly.
“I am Raphael Grox.”
He smiled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
Oscar’s brow twitched.
He shot up from his seat.
Screech—
The harsh scrape of the chair echoed through the assembly hall.
Oscar strode forward and yanked Yustea up by the wrist.
“Take the Saint to the Underground Prison.”
The plan was to lock her away for now, then contact the Irregulars to help her escape.
Yustea, understanding Oscar’s intent, followed him meekly.
They had taken only a few steps.
Grip.
Her other wrist was seized.
It was Raphael.
“Surely we cannot subject such an esteemed guest to such a harsh place, Crown Prince.”
“She is an enemy of the Reconstruction Council.”
“We have not yet given her sufficient explanation of the Council’s ideals and aspirations. If we can convince her through dialogue, she will become a thousand warriors for us.”
The executives of the Reconstruction Council nodded.
Among those rooted in the Empire, none were ignorant of Yustea’s talents and accomplishments.
Raphael surveyed the executives with a broad smile.
“Leave the persuasion to me.”
Raphael, too, was one called the Master of Wisdom.
The executives, who held him in deep trust, unanimously agreed.
Oscar’s face hardened.
* * *
I stepped into the room Raphael had shown me.
‘…What is this?’
The luxury was indescribable.
It surpassed even the castle of some great manor.
I slowly surveyed the room and let out a gasp of wonder.
“How exactly do you make money?”
Raphael handed me tea with a grin.
“There are several channels.”
“So you run a trading post, then?”
Raphael hesitated.
He looked at me as if wondering how I knew.
I shrugged.
“That curtain fabric. It’s called Pasedra—a textile developed not long ago on a distant continent across the sea. It hasn’t been distributed in the Empire yet.”
Raphael laughed dryly.
He looked at me as though I were some curiosity.
“The trading post is indeed one of our revenue streams. A sample bolt caught my eye, so I had it made into curtains for decoration.”
“A family that once held the post of Ceremonial Minister in the Old Kingdom?”
“…How much longer do you intend to astonish me?”
Raphael’s eyes sharpened.
“My family has held the office of Ceremonial Minister for generations.”
Ceremonial Minister.
The chief administrator overseeing royal ceremonies, diplomatic receptions, and formal rituals and observances.
I nodded and drank my tea.
“And how did you deduce the family?”
“Your interior decoration follows Old Kingdom aesthetic principles—the foundation of Old Kingdom ceremony.”
Raphael burst out laughing.
Bending at the waist, he seemed genuinely delighted.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
Seeing my unamused expression, Raphael spoke with a voice edged with laughter.
“Finally, I have found someone with whom meaningful conversation is possible, after drowning in discussions with mindless fools. How can this not bring me joy?”
“Well, that’s fine, I suppose. Though I still find myself irritated.”
When I looked at him to show that our conversation did nothing for me, Raphael chuckled.
“It seems you have not yet opened your heart enough for us to proceed to the main topic.”
“Should I be grateful you noticed that much?”
“The Saint surely needs rest more than conversation. Please, take your ease. We shall speak again tomorrow.”
For someone who had kidnapped and imprisoned me, he was being remarkably considerate.
Seeing my exasperation, he chuckled and shrugged.
Raphael bowed with elegant grace and departed.
Click.
I heard the door lock from the outside.
Presumably to prevent my escape.
‘This is rather tight.’
I folded my arms and sighed.
Looking around, I found nothing that could break the door.
‘Then there’s only one way.’
I looked out the window.
“This should be manageable….”
I immediately tore down the curtain and knotted it together.
I fixed the rope securely inside the room.
Then, gripping the curtain rope, I leaned out the window.
I descended smoothly, lowering myself in steady increments over several lengths, when—
“What, what is this?”
A swarm of butterflies came rushing at me.
They were butterflies whose wings shimmered in five colors.
They appeared dazzlingly beautiful on the surface, but their bodies were crimson red and their eyes had such a grotesque form that they exuded an eerie aura.
The swarm descended upon me with tremendous force.
Waving one hand to keep them from my eyes, I lost my balance.
“Aah…!”
I nearly lost my grip on the curtain rope.
Whoosh—
Someone pulled me back up.
“You can’t sit still for even a moment.”
It was Oscar.
He held my wrist and frowned deeply.
I laughed awkwardly.
“Why are you laughing?”
“They say you can’t curse a smiling face….”
“In your case, I could manage it.”
With a sinister look, he yanked me back up.
Having barely made it back inside, I sank to the floor and caught my breath.
“I thought I was going to fall to my death.”
“You nearly died to the Blood Butterflies.”
Blood Butterflies?
I looked at Oscar, confused by his words.
Standing against the window with his arms crossed, he nodded toward the butterflies outside.
“Blood Butterflies. They don’t just feed on human blood—they lay eggs inside the human body. When new Blood Butterflies hatch, they burst through the skin and turn your entire body to shreds.”
“That sounds like a monster….”
“They’re not just like monsters—they certainly are monsters.”
Why would anyone breed something so terrifying?
I shook my head slowly.
“Are the Reconstruction Council people insane? Why would they keep such monsters?”
“We take medication. Something that makes the Blood Butterflies avoid you.”
“Ah.”
Oscar set down a bottle of medicine in front of me.
Apparently this was the drug that made the Blood Butterflies stay away.
I drank the medicine and spoke.
“So the Blood Butterflies are guards and sentries.”
“Very effective ones.”
“Where did you even find something like that?”
For all the books I’d read, I’d never heard of or seen anything like Blood Butterflies.
Oscar knelt down in front of me.
“Is that really what’s important?”
His eyes were terrifying.
I rolled my eyes.
Then I touched my fingertips together and spoke like a penitent.
“I apologize for my foolishness.”
Only then did Oscar sigh.
“I’ll create an opening for you to escape, so stay quiet. Quietly.”
It was as if I were being scolded by my mother:
“We’ll come to rescue you, so please stay quiet. Quietly. You absolutely must promise to stay quiet. You understand, right? Quietly, please.”
—He was warning me with that same wide-eyed intensity.
I laughed awkwardly.
Oscar sighed once more and stood up.
“Don’t skip meals for your strength.”
“What if Raphael uses poison?”
Oscar tapped his own golden eyes.
They were special eyes that could perceive mana.
“I won’t miss it.”
“….”
“What?”
I smiled softly.
“It’s reassuring. That you’re here with me.”
Oscar fell silent.
He soon averted his gaze, though his neck seemed to flush slightly red.
“Rest.”
After Oscar left, I carefully hung the curtain back up.
The next day, Raphael discovered it, but….
When he asked why I’d returned after attempting to escape, I told him I’d nearly fallen when I lost my balance because of the butterflies.
Raphael clutched his stomach and laughed.
* * *
Four days passed.
This is so tedious….
‘The surveillance must be tight. Oscar hasn’t come by at all.’
I’d had almost no chance to encounter Oscar.
He must have been searching for secure locations to relay my whereabouts to Father and the Irregulars without being intercepted.
With Oscar around, my family seemed reassured.
Judging by how they hadn’t rushed to extract me.
‘That’s fortunate.’
I didn’t want an all-out confrontation here at Reconstruction Council Headquarters.
Not only were there the Blood Butterflies.
The last time we fought at headquarters with the Ghost Castle Dungeon, our soldiers suffered devastating casualties.
After that, they would have strengthened their defenses. This time would be even harder.
“…Fine. Consider it reconnaissance of the headquarters.”
I got up from my seat.
Once I stopped resisting, Raphael no longer locked the door.
Instead, he seemed to hope I would speak with the Reconstruction Council people and recognize them as human beings too.
He also warned me about the monsters—Blood Butterflies and others—arrayed all along the Castle Wall.
‘That’s a threat, obviously.’
I could move about freely, but escape was forbidden.
When I opened the door and stepped out, the Reconstruction Council people flinched.
“W-were you the Saint…?”
“Why are you coming out today?”
Regardless, I focused on learning the layout of the Castle Interior.
The exits and connecting stairs.
Where the armory was located.
The number of available escape routes, and so on.
As I walked, taking note of these details, I paused.
I felt something strange near the stairs leading down to the Underground.
It was the sensation of something massive writhing below.
Even touching the railing felt unpleasant.
I frowned.
At that moment, Raphael approached.
“Are you curious about the Research Laboratory?”
“That’s a research laboratory in this Underground?”
“If you’re interested, I’d be happy to show you.”
I wasn’t inclined to go, but if the Reconstruction Council possessed some great weapon, I needed to know.
I decided to descend.
The air in the Underground was heavy.
At the bottom of the stairs, a vast space opened before me.
Glass vessels containing reagents filled the walls, and at the center lay a colossal egg.
The egg itself rippled as if alive, its veins bulging and writhing.
“This is….”
“The White Dragon.”
“I know what a White Dragon egg is. But the size and form are different.”
Then I impudently lifted my chin.
“Tell me.”
Raphael’s lips curved upward.
He gripped his waist and lowered his head lightly.
He seemed to be holding back laughter.
Soon, he held my chin and murmured in a voice tinged with the rasp of metal.
“Tell me—do you truly have no intention of becoming our Saint?”
“….”
“I find myself liking you more and more.”
“Stop spouting nonsense and explain this.”
I struck his hand away.
Raphael grinned.
“It truly is a White Dragon. A genuine ancient White Dragon.”
“An ancient White Dragon?”
“The White Dragons of today are specimens that have undergone selective breeding. They are incomparably tame and weak compared to the true ancient White Dragon.”
An ancient White Dragon could be that powerful?
I swallowed hard.
“How do you even obtain something like this? And the Blood Butterflies too—where do you get such information?”
“Ah…. You’re not yet able to access the Channel?”
Channel?
I was tilting my head in confusion when Raphael’s Communication Stone rang.
After checking the message, Raphael spoke.
“I’ve been called away. The Saint should return to her room.”
He escorted me back.
Bang.
The moment I heard the door close, I clutched my head.
‘Channel.’
What is a Channel?
Lost in thought, I suddenly lifted my head.
“That’s it….”
[Reconnecting to Channel.]
I had thought the Channel only connected to a god and served to grant Patterns.
But could conversations take place there?
Who would be on the other end to converse with?
A god?
Or those who possess Entry Tickets?
‘If the Reconstruction Council has been obtaining vast information from the Channel, and I can do it too….’
I pressed both cheeks and let out a rapturous gasp.
“That’s incredible.”
I hurriedly locked the door and drew the curtains.
Then I clasped my hands together and focused.
‘I enter the Channel.’
In that instant, countless windows appeared in the void, and a chat interface materialized like a messenger application.
[‘Master of the Eight Fools’ has joined the conversation. (Channel: Public)]
Vassal of the Masked Lord: And finally.
Owner of the Chain Scythe: Has it been four years? Five?
Vassal of Beauty: Who knows. But one thing’s certain—she’s an idiot. Looks like she’s finally figured out what the Channel is for.
Loves Teddy Bears: Hey, hiya! (emoji of a teddy bear waving)
Messages poured in.
‘I should at least greet them….’
Master of the Eight Fools: Hello…?
That was when—
Kind Linguist: Young Lady?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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