My Daddy Hides His Power - Chapter 7

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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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Father hides his strength
Chapter 7
Unable to bear more of the display, Axion swept his cloak and positioned himself before the Warp Gate.
“Don’t delay. Depart at once.”
Father showed no shame whatsoever, continuing to stare at me with an inane grin plastered across his face.
“My little one. A kiss. Mmm.”
“Mmmrgh.”
I watched the holy knights ahead pass through the gate in turn, pushing away Father’s persistent lips as he tried to kiss me again.
In the midst of it all, we slipped straight through the Warp Gate.
“Gasp.”
And then, experiencing the magic of an entirely different space unfolding in an instant, I gasped in wonder.
High ceiling.
Sacred frescoes.
Magnificent columns.
And priests with holy faces, every one of them wearing expressions of surprise.
‘This… this magic is incredible, really.’
It was the gate chamber of Pavil Temple in Jedo.
“Lord Enoch.”
An elderly grandfather with white hair stepped forward from among the priests.
“You have truly returned.”
“It has been a long time, High Priest.”
The High Priest and all the younger priests standing behind him bore expressions of disbelief at Father’s return.
And the existence of me, nestled in Father’s arms—clearly the daughter of Enoch Rubinstein—was equally astonishing to them.
“May the blessing of Primela be with you.”
The High Priest, who had been staring at me blankly, offered his greeting and hastily stepped aside.
Father then brushed past them as though there was nothing more to see.
The bewildered priests scurried after him like common soldiers.
“Lord Enoch, are you planning to return home at once, then?”
“Perhaps we should conduct the Return Ceremony, at least in abbreviated form.”
“We had made preparations upon receiving word that you might return….”
Father turned sharply before stepping out the door.
“Surely the Imperial Court will hold a Return Ceremony anyway. We shall meet then. Today’s journey has been long, and I worry my daughter may be tired.”
Only then did the priests begin to openly examine me, whom they had only been stealing glances at before.
Every face bore an expression of intense curiosity.
And small wonder.
Enoch Rubinstein, who had vanished without a trace and reappeared after seven years.
And his daughter, who had disappeared alongside him seven years ago.
Undoubtedly, not only within the temple but everywhere else would I be the focus of attention for some time.
Being a quick-witted child, I pressed my hands together respectfully toward the priests.
And immediately offered the greeting I had just learned.
“May the blessing of Primela be with you….”
The priests were astonished and deeply moved.
“Oh, thank you!”
“May the blessing of Primela be with the young lady as well!”
* * *
Upon leaving the temple at the center of Jedo, we emerged directly into the heart of the city.
“Whoa… wow….”
For one who had lived her entire life in the Southern Remote Mountain Village, the sight of Jedo was nothing short of a revelation.
“There are so many people….”
Tall, refined stone buildings pressed shoulder to shoulder.
Crowds of people dressed in countless different fashions milling about everywhere.
Well-groomed, magnificent horses pulling ornate carriages, striding elegantly throughout the streets….
“Little one, I’ll see you later.”
“Lilis. Take care of yourself.”
“Okay. Goodbye, uncles.”
The officials who had completed their duties were now heading home.
I waved to Philip and Ben, who had taken a moment to say goodbye to me.
“Make sure you go straight home without wandering off.”
“We’ve come all the way to Jedo—where’s there to wander to? Go on now. Shoo.”
With Axion turning back, his eyes fixed disapprovingly on Father as he waved his hand dismissively….
At last, Father and I were left alone in the bustling streets of Jedo.
“So, my dear.”
“Mm?”
“You really won’t take the carriage?”
“No.”
“It’ll take at least fifteen minutes to walk home. Your legs must be aching—shall I carry you?”
“Oh, Father. You’ve been carrying me around so much, I’ve completely forgotten how to walk. I want to try now. I want to walk. And see Jedo while we’re at it.”
“All right, then. But tell me right away if your legs start hurting, understood?”
“I will.”
I took Father’s hand firmly and began walking through the late afternoon streets.
‘Right. Now it begins. Stay sharp.’
Enoch Rubinstein—the protagonist who no longer needed to think about his daughter’s revenge.
I, who had committed a grave blunder before the original story could even begin, had erased all possibility of the original story ever starting.
And so it fell to me to clean up the mess.
‘I absolutely must keep things on track with the original plot. The first thing I need to do is….’
“Esteemed Sword Master, good day to you. May the sublime glory and grace of Primela….”
“That’s enough.”
“I am ever grateful. May the sublime glory of Primela….”
“Enough.”
…Perhaps I should have taken the carriage after all.
Every time I tried to think while walking, the same tiresome situation repeated itself—ten times over already.
Whether noble or commoner, they all came to Father and knelt before him.
It was because of Father’s blue cloak, which symbolized the rank of Dos.
‘I knew it would be like this, but it’s worse than I expected. What kind of country is this, where people throw themselves on their knees in the middle of the street?’
It was absurd.
But if the novel’s world-building hadn’t been quite this destitute of human dignity….
‘Then there would be no revolution for the protagonist to lead, and nothing for me to use as thesis material.’
I pressed my small fingers against my temples and started thinking again.
‘So what I need to do first is!’
Find Chesire, the other protagonist, and bring him together with Father.
Father alone could not spark a revolution against this corrupt empire.
Chesire’s help was absolutely essential.
So then, Chesire Rubinstein.
Who was he?
1. Rank: Dos.
2. Commander of the Dos Swordsmen Corps.
3. Master swordsman, Sword Master, and prince of House Rubinstein.
4. According to the setting, one of the two strongest beings in the entire world alongside Enoch Rubinstein.
5. His fists moved deceptively slowly.
6. Originally born as the illegitimate child of a certain nobleman, abused and mistreated,
until by chance
he caught Enoch Rubinstein’s eye and was adopted into the family.
‘The problem is, what exactly was that chance encounter?’
The novel never detailed how Father and Chesire first met, so I had no way of knowing.
But with me alive and well now, the likelihood of Father taking an interest in Chesire seemed low.
Which meant my task was to artificially orchestrate their meeting—
‘Like finding a needle in a desert.’
I looked around the overcrowded streets in despair.
Then.
“Father?”
I thought something felt off, so I looked up and saw that Father’s gaze was fixed intently on something.
It was a dark alley across the street.
“What is it? Is something over there?”
Father looked down at me for a moment, then smiled and began to move.
“It’s nothing. Let’s go.”
“Wait.”
The perceptive child held Father back.
“Why did you look like that?”
“It’s nothing. I just thought I sensed a scuffle. But the Security Force patrols this area anyway, so we don’t need to worry. Come now, my dear.”
“There’s a fight over there? Then we should stop it.”
“But still, we can’t have our princess needlessly put in danger.”
“…….”
I found myself at a loss for words.
The Enoch Rubinstein I knew wasn’t the sort of man to simply turn a blind eye to a situation like this.
‘I’m the problem. I’m the problem. Ugh.’
I realized I was becoming a serious obstacle to the protagonist’s sense of justice.
“Come on, let’s just go take a look. Yeah? Dad’s incredibly strong anyway, so it’ll be fine, right?”
“Well then, I suppose we should.”
Clearly uneasy about it, Father took my hand and hurried toward the alley.
And the moment we stepped inside.
“Eek!”
I clamped my hand over my mouth at the unexpected sight.
In a novel like this, I’d expected the usual—Awakened Ones tormenting ordinary people or something.
But what I saw were children.
To be precise, what looked like middle schoolers were mercilessly beating a single elementary schooler.
“Hey, what are you doing right now!”
Five children spun around in unison.
I felt a surge of anger and shouted.
“You little punks!”
For a moment, silence fell.
Even Father, about to step in, stared down at me with wide eyes.
‘Oops.’
That dialogue was a bit jarring coming from a seven-year-old girl.
“Sir, sir? Hello. May the glorious Primela shine upon you with its grace….”
“Stop.”
The boy in the middle noticed Father’s blue cloak and immediately prostrated himself in panic.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh! If we’ve caused a disturbance, we sincerely apologize. It’s just that this commoner failed to greet us….”
“You beat someone because they didn’t greet you? And a child, no less?”
The boy I’d snapped at stared blankly at me for a moment before speaking.
“Well, um… Priestess? I’m an Octava, you see?”
“Wow.”
I went slack with disbelief.
“So… being an Ability User makes it okay to beat people?”
“…….”
“…….”
Silence settled once more.
The children just stared blankly at one another.
‘Does it make it okay? Yeah. It does make it okay.’
I let out a bitter laugh.
In this cursed world, such things were distressingly commonplace.
If that commoner child truly hadn’t bowed, then sadly, the one at fault was the commoner child.
Violence had been dealt collectively, yet the perpetrators bore no guilt whatsoever.
Because they were Awakened Ones, and nobles.
Since I’d fallen silent, Father stepped forward.
“Be on your way without causing further trouble.”
“Yes, sir!”
“May the glorious Primela…!”
“Go.”
“Ah, yes!”
There was nothing Father could do either.
Just as you can’t suddenly grab a passerby and scold them for breathing—
It was clearly a crime, yet no more remarkable than the simple act of breathing in this world.
‘A revolution really is urgent, Dad.’
Experiencing firsthand the bleak reality of this world, I felt deeply bitter.
“Jedo really is a terrible place to live….”
As I muttered it with sarcasm, Father knelt down before me.
His expression grew dark as he reached out to touch my cheek.
“Princess, listen to me.”
“Wait, hold on!”
That boy being beaten came to mind.
I rushed over.
“Are you alright? Oh, oh no! Blood….”
The boy got up nonchalantly and wiped the blood from his split lip with his hand.
Then he lifted his face—utterly expressionless—and looked at me.
Beautiful crimson eyes.
But the light in them was hollow, as if life itself held no meaning for him.
‘Is it possible for eyes to hold such a gaze at this age?’
I swallowed a sigh and hastily rummaged through my priest’s robes to clean the blood first.
I’d kept the Rabbit Handkerchief that Father had given me.
“Here, listen. Just a bit of blood here, and—ow!”
Smack!
As I brought the handkerchief toward his split lip, the boy’s arm swung up sharply and struck my hand away.
I grabbed my stung hand and stared at him in bewilderment.
His face held no expression, yet I could read his state of mind.
Like a cat bristling its fur in wariness.…
“I’m, I’m sorry…. I didn’t mean to touch you so suddenly. I’ll leave it here.”
I carefully set the handkerchief on the boy’s thigh.
He remained motionless, only staring at me with an unwavering gaze.
I held his stare for a moment, and then—
‘Wait?’
Only then did I truly take in his whole appearance, and I was startled.
It was peculiar.
‘I’m sorry for thinking this about a child who was just being beaten, but….’
Was he handsome?
The kind of handsome you could never forget once you’d seen it.
The kind where such sharp, defined features seemed impossible at so young an age.
And yet.
‘Black hair. Red eyes.’
I clapped my hand over my mouth, staggered backward, and tumbled flat on my backside.
“Lilis!”
I turned at Father’s startled voice.
I saw his breathtakingly beautiful face—equally striking in its way.
I recalled the iron rule I’d sworn not to forget.
‘There’s no such thing as a handsome extra character.’

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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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