How to Replace Your Dad - Chapter 254

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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
Chapter 254
I kneaded my cheeks between my palms.
In the mirror, the child’s cheeks compressed like glutinous rice cakes.
The Head Maid watched me with an unblinking stare.
Her expression asked why I was being so restless.
Then she pulled a tray in through the door.
She set down washwater and a bundle of newspapers.
This had been my morning routine when I was young.
‘Of course.’
The moment the Head Maid left, I bolted from bed and rushed to the table.
I checked the date on the newspapers and sank back with a thud.
‘Thirteen years back. Around six years old.’
…A Regression.
‘Let me think this through.’
I regressed after touching the Magical Stone belonging to Count Andres.
The Count employed advanced Sorcery developed in Andres, and on top of that, he deliberately allowed himself to be captured by the Restoration Council to receive Alchemy as well.
In other words, Count Andres triggered this Regression.
‘Did Count Andres deliberately aim to take me with him in the Regression?’
My touching the Count’s Magical Stone had been pure accident.
He deliberately sent his own body out of control.
There’s no way he could have predicted that I would happen to restrain his runaway body and inspect his physical form.
‘This is something even the Count didn’t anticipate.’
If that was the case, then my first priority was to uncover the Count’s true purpose.
If he learned that I had regressed alongside him, he would become wary of me.
I made my decision.
‘I won’t let him know I’ve regressed.’
* * *
After washing and changing clothes, I headed for the Restaurant.
To hide the Regression, I had to play the part of a six-year-old.
At six, I had been a conscientious child who kept to my routines.
Skipping breakfast out of nowhere might raise suspicion.
When I entered the Restaurant, the Marchioness Andres, my brother Onel, and… Count Andres were present.
Count Andres stopped eating and fixed his gaze upon me.
“….”
“….”
Our eyes locked and held.
He had never shown me this kind of attention before.
Even in the same room, he wouldn’t spare me a glance.
But now he stopped eating just to focus on me?
‘The Regression is definitely real.’
Before he could grow suspicious, I lowered my head.
“Good morning.”
As I went to sit, the Marchioness’s eyes turned toward me.
‘What? Why?’
Then I caught myself.
‘Oh, that.’
“Good… morning.”
Paying careful attention to my pronunciation, I spoke again, and only then did the Marchioness turn her gaze away.
‘Picky old woman.’
I was only six years old.
With my baby teeth still missing, my speech was naturally slurred.
The Restaurant fell silent.
Only the clink of silverware echoed through the air.
This was the typical atmosphere of breakfast at Andres.
Conversation happened only….
“Today’s Dawn News article was vulgar. ‘The Young Rising of the East’… ha. Those fools who know nothing of loyalty mistake a mere tantrum for an uprising. What do you all think?”
…at times like this, when she posed questions about the day’s news as if conducting a lesson.
Onel sliced his meat and spoke flatly.
“Times are changing. Your words sound dangerous, Grandmother.”
“Regression?”
The Marchioness’s gaze turned sharp as a blade.
Yet Onel didn’t budge.
It was always like this.
Designated as the heir from birth, Onel harbored no fear of the Marchioness.
The Marchioness, for her part, treated her eldest son with a deference she showed no other.
After all, it would be dangerous to have a future successor nursing resentment against her.
But as for me….
“Do you think the same way, Yustea?”
‘Again, again. Always picking on me.’
I muttered to myself inwardly.
When such sharp questions came my way, what was I supposed to do?
Younger me would stiffen with nerves and echo the Marchioness’s opinion as though it were scripture.
Then Onel would glare at me savagely.
‘Good grief….’
I groaned to myself again.
I had no idea how long I’d be staying here, and it would be tiresome to end up at odds with Onel.
But suddenly taking his side over the Marchioness would look suspicious, wouldn’t it?
‘Especially not while Count Andres is watching me.’
And the Marchioness’s eyes were openly glacial. Even as Onel pretended to focus on his meal, he was watching me intently.
So I….
“What does ‘abruptly rising’ mean?”
The Marchioness flinched, and Onel flinched too, his eyes snapping toward me. Count Andres’s eyes widened ever so slightly.
My answer was utterly befitting a six-year-old—but it wasn’t what I normally would have said.
‘Six-year-old Yustea’ would look up unfamiliar words in a dictionary, and if that still didn’t work, would dash off to her tutor first thing in the morning to ask about them.
She’d do whatever it took to survive these quiz-like mornings. Tense with anxiety.
Before suspicion could take root, I spoke quickly.
“Um… the dictionary said ‘abruptly rising’ means to stand up suddenly… but why the eastern region suddenly stood up, I don’t….”
As I feigned uncertainty, Onel blinked at me.
The Marchioness narrowed her brow.
“So you didn’t care enough to visit your tutor.”
“I did visit, but… she said she was busy preparing for your lessons….”
Grandmother only values Onel, so of course the tutor looks down on me too, right?
The Marchioness had nothing to say to that and simply sipped her water.
Onel’s gaze wasn’t savage the way it had been whenever I sided with the Marchioness before.
And Count Andres….
“It’s certainly content a child cannot comprehend without a tutor. You should replace her.”
“Rohan!”
Count Andres fixed the Marchioness with a steady look.
The Marchioness bit her lip and picked up her napkin.
‘Good. I got through that.’
I thought as much and brought a spoonful of soup to my lips.
“Yustea.”
“Yes?”
“We’ll have a young horse broken in for you. If you bond with it now, riding lessons will be easier when the time comes.”
I was floored.
When had he ever given me a horse as a gift?
Onel had received one of the empire’s finest thoroughbreds while still a child, but I’d never gotten one.
‘What’s gotten into him?’
In that instant of half-hearted confusion, I caught sight of the Marchioness and Onel’s eyes going wide.
I quickly dropped my fork on purpose.
Then I covered my mouth with both hands.
“Th-th-thank you s-so much. I mean, thank you.”
When my expression shifted to one of joyful bewilderment, Count Andres let out a soft laugh.
“Come to the riding ground. I’ll have you learn to handle a horse using a foal first.”
Gasps of breath could be heard all around.
The Marchioness was flustered, Onel’s brow furrowed, and the servants swallowed hard.
And I found myself thinking….
‘After pulling off a stunt like regression, has he gone mad?’
* * *
Count Andres truly did teach me how to handle horses.
“When you approach a horse, come from the left side.”
“Yes!”
“Don’t shout. It will startle the animal.”
“Yes! Or rather. Yes….”
I lowered my voice at once and feigned a whisper, at which he let out another quiet laugh.
He corrected the grip of my hand on the reins as he spoke.
“Was she like this when younger?”
He murmured this while studying my small hand and my cheeks flushed by the cold wind.
Then he stepped back and watched as the Coachman explained the horse’s temperament to me.
I pretended to learn the particulars from the Coachman, but my ears were pricked, listening intently.
The Marchioness had come to verify that Count Andres was truly with me.
Perhaps I could discern their purpose from their conversation.
The Marchioness asked him a question.
“What reason would drive you, busy as you are, to make time for this?”
“Her horsemanship habits are poor.”
“What?”
“It seems she learned incorrectly from that fellow—Aslan—so I thought it best to correct her form.”
“…What on earth are you saying? Yustea has never taken riding lessons. And who is this Aslan?”
The Count merely smiled with an inscrutable expression.
The Marchioness’s brow furrowed.
She seemed to have many questions, but when the Count fixed his gaze upon me, she held her tongue.
A glance withheld was as good as a conversation refused.
As a result, I became her target instead.
“Once you’ve practiced enough, come down. Class will begin soon.”
“Ah….”
As I moved to dismount, Count Andres raised his hand.
It was a signal to continue.
And he turned to face the Marchioness once more.
“I mentioned that the instructor should be replaced.”
“Finding a teacher of that caliber is difficult. It will take time, so for now we must continue—.”
“He lacks the necessary aptitude.”
“He is a brilliant graduate of the Academy of the Realm, and his father served as tutor to the Emperor himself. His aptitude is beyond question.”
“Is there any aptitude in a man who discriminates between Onel and Yustea?”
“What?”
“Replace him. Until then, I shall keep her at my side and instruct her myself.”
The Marchioness’s face went rigid.
It was the first time he had shown such concern for me.
No—he had never shown such concern for anyone else either.
Not even for Onel, his own heir, had he personally taken charge of instruction.
The Count spoke to me, leaving the stricken Marchioness behind.
“When the horse walks, you needn’t crouch so low. It actually makes balance harder to maintain. Don’t grip the reins too tightly.”
“Yes! …Or rather. Yes….”
I lowered my voice again before answering, and he turned his head away, chuckling softly.
The Marchioness, witnessing this side of her son for the first time, forgot her composure and stood with her mouth agape.
And I was certain of it then.
‘The Count’s purpose… was me all along.’
I had suspected as much, but now it was confirmed.
He intended to improve the distance between us.
I was bewildered.
‘As long as I’m not cast out, there’s no reason to go to Father. Why does he need to mend things? What a nuisance….’
I let out a silent, dejected sigh.
* * *
Of course, I could not let it show.
Whenever I was with Count Andres, I wore an expression of unbridled joy.
‘Method… it must be method acting.’
I performed with the fervor of desperation, all exaggerated enthusiasm.
‘Now that I’ve uncovered his purpose, I must find a way to return.’
If I stayed here any longer, I would sink roots in the Andres Estate and never make it back to my real family.
Even as I thought this, my mind was working quickly, calculating my next move.
‘How do I end this regression? I’d need an enormous amount of mana, obviously. The Magical Stone and Divine Protection are both depleted—there’s no way a normal power level could manage it….’
I was groaning softly as I copied text in front of the Marquis.
The Marquis likely thought I was struggling with the act of writing itself.
That was when it happened.
Knock, knock.
The Butler entered with the sound of the knock.
“My lord, a visitor has arrived from Carpenter.”
The moment I heard the name Carpenter, the Marquis’s eyes narrowed.
‘Carpenter!’
I tightened my grip on the pen in my hand.
How could I not know that name?
Carpenter was the region where Emma and Stella lived.
Which meant the visitor from Carpenter could only be that mother and daughter.
“What is the purpose of the visit?”
When the Marquis asked, the Butler bowed with a troubled expression.
“She is suffering from a severe high fever, and they are requesting that you come to Carpenter, my lord….”
So Stella was ill.
The Marquis tapped the armrest of his chair thoughtfully.
His expression was that of someone calculating something.
“The Game Master….”
“…!”
I drew in a sharp breath.
‘He knows the Game Master is attached to Stella?’
“If that one were to meddle with the board, it would be troublesome.”
With my head bowed, I swallowed dryly.
How much does he know, exactly?
Did he piece it all together before I fled to another continent to escape the Restoration Council and the Game Master, or had he already grasped everything by then?
Goosebumps erupted across my skin.
The Game Master would never have confessed everything to the Marquis.
Which meant he must have deduced all of this from scraps of information.
For all the times I’d gotten the better of him, Count Andres was truly a formidable man.
Possibly even more troublesome than the Restoration Council or the Game Master itself….
The Marquis spoke.
“Prepare a Portal. We’re going to Carpenter.”
“Yes, my lord.”
I exhaled a silent sigh.
‘Actually, this works out. While the Marquis is away in Carpenter, I can search for a way to end the regression… wait, Carpenter?’
I recalled the newspaper I’d read this morning.
It mentioned that Prince Luciano had set out on an inspection tour of the southern region where Carpenter was located.
‘I can’t meet my Father or the Irregulars while I’m the Marquis’s daughter. But I might be able to meet Luciano.’
Luciano was a powerhouse who, while not quite Father’s equal, possessed overwhelming reserves of mana.
With his strength, it might be possible to end the regression.
“Carpenter… May I come as well?”
“…What?”
“Ah, well… if my tutor is replaced, I won’t have time to learn from Father….”
As I mumbled while hunching my shoulders, the Marquis stared directly at me.
His gaze was gentle.
Apparently, the image of a daughter who treasured her time with her father was not displeasing to him.
“Very well.”
“Yes! …No, yes….”
When I quickly lowered my voice again, he chuckled softly.
“There’s no one here to mind it.”
And then he spoke to the Butler.
“Yustea will accompany us as well.”

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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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