From Secret Clan to the Divine Dynasty

Chapter 130: 124 Self-blame



Irene stared at Byrne’s anxious eyes for a long while before finally speaking:

“Darren tried to reveal the existence of the Lord of the Lost, but he met our Master’s gaze, and so, unable to withstand such a great and supreme vision, he fell into a coma.”

“What are you talking about?”

Upon learning the true reason behind Darren’s coma, Byrne was stunned for a good while, a bit slow to react.

He still remembered the state of that old servant from years ago, knowing that even a mentally strong adult, if glanced at for a moment by the displeased, great Lord of the Lost, would be unable to rise due to immense fear, and would likely be haunted by it night after night.

For an ordinary child, such a mental burden was simply unimaginable!

“Irene…”

Byrne took a deep breath, seeing his son shivering continuously in his sleep, his face pale, and suppressing the emotions welling up inside him, he asked:

“Irene, did you know this was going to happen?”

“Yes.” Irene didn’t hide anything and calmly nodded her head.

“I told him a lot, and Darren indeed almost failed to keep the secret.”

Byrne clearly sensed something odd; the Irene before him was increasingly different from the one he remembered. The Irene of the past, knowing such a thing could happen to a family member, would never have allowed the situation to progress to this point!

“Why didn’t you reveal the family secrets little by little, starting with the smallest, or maybe, test Darren just as you do with the orphans…”

Byrne hadn’t finished speaking when he was interrupted by Irene without hesitation.

“No need to test him; he’s definitely not qualified!”

Byrne was dumbfounded, Irene shook her head, and continued.

“And what’s the purpose of testing those orphans at Daybreak Orphanage? It is to filter out unreliable people and prevent them from entering the core of the family.”

“But don’t forget one thing, Darren doesn’t need to be tested!”

Byrne clearly understood what Irene meant and took a deep breath.

She said calmly, “Because even if he’s unqualified, he must eventually enter the core of the family. It’s a destiny contained within the Fischer family’s bloodline; as a member of the Fischer family, there is simply no escaping it, and that applies not just to him but to Lilian as well.”

“Darren is just an ordinary child in personality. He’s a simple-minded aristocratic kid, and it’s not impossible for him to grow up as an ordinary noble, but he will surely be unable to bear heavy responsibilities in the future.”

“I think a significant lesson could potentially prompt unprecedented growth in him. Real, lived experience is always better than repeated verbal warnings.”

Byrne gazed silently at Irene, knowing deep inside that her words made sense.

Darren was utterly different from the two of them, having never experienced even the slightest hardship or difficulty since childhood, and being playful, gluttonous, and never learning to respect others.

He truly needed some hardships.

Byrne sighed, bent over, and slowly stroked his son’s face with his hand, his eyes betraying apologies and guilt.

“As the head of the Fischer family, I lack the spare energy to properly educate you, Darren… I understand this is not an excuse a father should make.”

“The great suffering you bear now is ultimately because I failed to fulfill my responsibilities. If only I could bear it for you.”

He closed his eyes, praying in his heart to the Lord of the Lost for forgiveness and hoping He would protect his child in the future.

A few days later, Darren finally woke up.

His eyes were full of fear, he would scream whenever someone approached, and for a long time, he couldn’t speak a complete sentence; he cried day and night, and Byrne even thought his son had completely lost his mind.

Are you not afraid that doing this could make Darren truly insane?

Byrne had wanted to question Irene when he suddenly remembered something—that she couldn’t feel fear anymore.

He recalled how Irene, ever since losing her fear, had become completely unafraid to let Chris join battles.

So that was it; because Irene could no longer feel fear, she might lose caution in her judgments and no longer fear causing harm to her loved ones.

In the following nights, Byrne put aside his work on researching medicines and silently accompanied his son, who lay trapped in fear.

He felt deep inside that Darren was pitiable, having lost the care of his father and mother during his growth, and thinking that he would have to take on more of Irene’s burdens in the future; she had already sacrificed too much for the family.

From beginning to end, Byrne never felt Irene or Darren had done anything wrong; he just felt an innate guilt.

“After all, it was I who did not do well enough…”

After more than ten days, Darren gradually came to his senses, and Byrne finally breathed a sigh of relief.

At night, he still shivered, afraid to remember the deep shadow in his heart, needing someone present to fall asleep.

One night, Darren suddenly felt very strange. Aunt Irene said she too had been gazed upon by Him, the great God of Lost, in her youth. Why didn’t Aunt Irene faint like he had?

He suddenly figured out the reason: was it because the gaze Aunt Irene received didn’t contain that displeasure?

His will filled one with endless fear!

Darren deeply felt it, the moment when all things were to be destroyed, and he himself was about to vanish in the collapse, he felt like he had gone through multiple deaths, terrifying beyond measure, and the next moment, he collapsed and lost consciousness.

“Great Lord of the Lost, I, I won’t be careless with my words anymore; I’ll be forever loyal; as your follower, I beg you not to destroy me, please! Please!”

He cried incessantly, tears streaming down, only hoping to receive the Lord of the Lost’s forgiveness. That deep fear was planted in the darkest recesses of his heart, never to be dispelled.

The next day, Darren was taken to the courtyard by Byrne, puzzled as his father thrust a rough wooden sword into his hands.

Picking it up felt so harsh to the hand, he had no desire for this thing, and he subconsciously wanted to put the sword down.

Yet Byrne also picked up a wooden sword, calmly saying, “Darren, from now on I will carve out an hour each day to hone your swordsmanship.”

“Let’s start right away.”

His father could spare the time to be with him!

He was subconsciously filled with joy, his eyes brimming with happiness, but soon realized what his father’s words actually implied.

Honing swordsmanship?

I don’t know the first thing about swordsmanship, Darren thought, still dumbfounded, when suddenly he saw his father calmly thrust the sword towards him.

“Ah!”

He immediately closed his eyes and screamed, instinctively throwing away the sword from his hand.

But the little chubby one was still stabbed, it hurt so much, even giving up the sword couldn’t spare him from the fate of being injured.

Byrne squatted down with a gentle expression, smiling and said calmly, “Try again, Darren, pick up your sword.”

Darren suddenly felt very afraid, and very resistant, the coming hour, and every day thereafter, was he going to be beaten?

——

Four months later, the Tempest Church led the Cyart army into the White Sea, initiating another encirclement against the Sea God Cult.

This campaign ended in great success, their main forces severely damaged, they returned victorious!

Each of the twelve priests of the Sea God Cult was a high-level Transmutation individual; during the years of war, none of them had ever died in battle, yet in this encirclement, as many as five Sea God priests perished.

The morale of the Tempest Church and the Cyart nobility was greatly boosted, and the war against the Sea God was nearing its end.

Although eradicating the Sea God Cult completely was difficult, the main body of its force was nearly destroyed, and everyone understood that true victory was imminent.

Meanwhile, Byrne was about to attend the Alchemy Council once more, meeting those very mysterious individuals.

He returned to that lush green manor once again.

“Please wait a moment.”

Viscount Bast’s personal servant, the flame descendant female, asked Byrne to wait in a dedicated resting room.

People from all over the East Coast Province came to seek Viscount Bast, many of them stood up on their own, greeting Byrne with tones full of flattery.

Unlike those waiting in line in the hall, Byrne could rest alone in the dedicated resting room, and the several servants in the room were ready to meet his requests at any moment.

The flame descendant female in the tailcoat bowed respectfully and said:

“Lord Bast is currently discussing with Lord Oder, please wait a little longer, Lord Byrne.”

This flame descendant woman named Autumn, as a personal servant, was highly trusted by Viscount Bast.

Over the three years of interactions, Byrne noticed that Autumn likely was also an Extraordinary Exponent of considerable strength.

She might possess Transmutation Level power, yet still contentedly served as a servant, loyalty unswerving, a method of managing subordinates worth learning from Viscount Bast.

After a short while, Byrne learned from Autumn that Viscount Oder had already left, and it was now his turn.

He had no good impression of the “Iron Blood” Oder family.

For the “Iron Blood” Oder family, who were supposed to be protectors of the Leander family, and considering that Baron Leander’s daughter was also one of Oder’s lovers, seized everything belonging to the Leander family immediately after Baron Leander’s demise!

Byrne found the act of striking down one’s own kin to be disgusting; even if Viscount Oder was an ally of Viscount Bast, he truly did not wish to meet that man.

Soon after, Byrne met Viscount Bast again.

He was a bit short in stature, of medium build, with neatly combed white hair, a white vest, and eyes twinkling with the cunning of a fox on the hunt.

When they first met, he was a fifty-three-year-old middle-aged man, yet now he still appeared as a relaxed and casual old man.

Viscount Bast was still sipping tea, smiling and saying:

“Three years have passed, I hadn’t imagined they’d fly by so quickly, another three years just like that, I seem to be getting older and older.”

He gestured for the servants to leave and laughed, continuing:

“And you, Byrne, seem to be getting steadier and steadier. The Fischer family is also developing quite well, perhaps one day, when I’m old and trembling, I will have to go to Nasir to seek an audience with Lord Byrne.”

Byrne knew well Viscount Bast’s character; he was always a joking old fox, and smiled in response:

“If that day really comes, I will certainly arrange a dedicated resting room for you.”

As expected, Viscount Bast didn’t take offense at the joke and smiled as he rose to his feet, slowly taking out the white mask of the Alchemy Council from his ring and gently placing it on his face.

“Heh heh, if that day really comes, I will certainly be delighted. I’ll thank you in advance, Lord Byrne!”

He reactivated the room’s mirror and led Byrne through it, ascending the pristine and majestic snow-covered mountain to enter the palace filled with a sense of the divine.

The Alchemy Council’s members were already waiting there, “Time Stasis Stone,” “Moon River Stone,” “Spirit Essence,” “Star Metal,” “Solar Gold.”

Besides them, there was Viscount Bast, codenamed “Dragon Crystal,” and “Mithril” Byrne.

Byrne couldn’t help but look towards the mysterious individual at the far end, the chairman of the Alchemy Council.

He was a dangerous individual who would use countless souls to refine objects of the extraordinary, wielding unfathomable power!


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