"I don't think you're in a loop, your goal just happens to align with the Alchemist's description of the unknown king. Your only source of hope in escaping this world happens to be aligned to a fantasy, and that's not that odd. But you might end up like that fantasy, turning it into your story."
Ronald said softly, then asked, "Are you sure you want to continue on this path?"
Godfrey looked at his father. "Is there another option? Even if I can kill all of Cain's four main bodies, which I can't, I don't even know who the fourth one is. Even if I can do that, my identity as a Chosen One ans I'll keep being pushed until I die."
He leaned back. "It's like I'm a seed. I can do nothing else other than grow if I'm being nurtured. I can only grow upward, not because I want to but because that's how nature has decided it for . Maybe I'll reach my peak and last for decades or be brought down by a disaster or by a man who sees as a nuisance. The life of that tree is just like mine."
Ronald squinted, holding his breath for a while before exhaling heavily. "Life isn't that sad."
"Mine feels like it is. There's soone willing to hurt anyone I care about to make go mad, and he's favoured by mana. I'm willing to assu he's got no problem getting stronger. I'm growing, I know, but with every step I just… I just… keep reassuring myself that I'll get there. That…"
"That's what being an adult ans, son," Ronald interrupted him softly. "It's when you open your eyes to the unfairness of the world, to the pain you feel undeserving of. When you look at the sky and you wonder… is this how it's always been? When you grow yet feel hollow, when you're happy and you don't want it to end yet you know it will. A child feels the mont, an adult sees the entire picture, so we anchor ourselves to things to bring relief."
Ronald smiled. "I anchored myself to you and your mother. Your mother anchored herself to you. All the treatnt she got from her workplace beca much easier because she thought of you. I spent eighteen years roaming, most tis without a roof over my head, with the itching fear that sothing might have happened to you or your mother or, worse, that both of you had moved on."
Ronald shut his eyes for a mont.
"You battle fears that your strength can't. I am one that creates his story; fate no longer applies to because I was supposed to be dead on the day you were born. Fate had no plans for anymore. But ti was tampered with, and I beca a fruit of that. During my journey, I t the Golden Fate Weaver, who I told you about, and I discovered Brown was created in the likeness of her pet."
Ronald continued after taking a breath.
"She's long been dead but, since I had a summon that looked like her pet and carried traits of her innate skill, she made her successor. Once, I had to make Brown consu gold to grow stronger, but then she showed gold is more than what is dug from the earth. It was a treasure and was cherished, so was my family. The more I cherished people and things, the stronger Brown beca."
"The Golden Fate Weaver was the only high elf I know of that saw all races as equals. The deeper she loved anyone or anything, the more strength she drew from that. That is my path, but it also ans just like her, I can lose everything once those people or those things are gone. We all have fears, son. You could lose and still get stronger to avenge , but I could lose you and lose the strength to do anything about it. Who has it worse?"
Godfrey blinked. He found no words.
"I know about what you went through, how you were criticized and mocked after my death. The truth is, if I had the chance, I would have told you to never expect anything from the public or you might be broken by what they give you. But you're strong, and you ended up making friends and even pairing up with a girl like Isolde. You also have your old man back. There's a bright side. Don't you think so?"
"What if I lose it all? I know now that being the strongest in the world doesn't an you can't die. You're still vulnerable," Godfrey replied.
"We can't all be invulnerable. But you can't live with that fear. You're letting it fuel you to get stronger, but it seems like it's slowly devouring you. I've noticed sothing… you don't fear for yourself, you're not as concerned about your death as you are for others. Haven't you thought, what if that was the sa thing for those people you're concerned about?"
Ronald rose to his feet.
He slid the curtain open and looked outside the window. "It's already dark. We've kept your friends waiting for too long. Go et them."
Godfrey slowly rose to his feet.
Ronald patted his shoulder.
"Co on. You're a demigod, act like one."
Godfrey smiled a bit and went straight to his room.
He opened the door and stepped in only to see Percival on his bed, leaning against the wall with Lucy beside him. She was actually asleep with her head on his shoulder!
Who knew how they got to that position?
Godfrey swiftly retreated from the room, closed the door, and went back to the living room, but he couldn't find his father.
'He must have gone to his room,' Godfrey mused and left the house. He needed so fresh air.
He stepped out, closed the door, and turned. His eyes widened a bit at the sight of his mother on the staircase.
She sat there.
It was about to happen. The mont that might cause a rift between him and his beloved mother. This was the future he saw.
This was the night
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