My Crybaby Father is the Kingdom's Worst Villain
Chapter 44: Sudden Awakening.

Chapter 44: Sudden Awakening.

Ramiro barely had time to register her words before a piercing screech shattered the air.

Instinct took over. He spun, just as a hulking Maisbeast surged from the shadows, its many-jointed limbs skittering unnaturally, closing the distance in heartbeats.

A sharp flick of his wrist sent arcane energy crackling through his veins. Golden light flared, a barrier snapping into place just as the creature struck. The impact rattled his bones, energy rippling outward, but the shield held.

"Esteban!" Ramiro barked.

"I’m on it." Esteban’s voice was steady, but his hands were already in motion.

Sigils flared to life around his fingers, weaving through the air before a burst of green fire roared forward. The flames engulfed the Maisbeast, searing flesh, curling black smoke into the sky. It shrieked, limbs thrashing wildly—but it didn’t fall.

Luzia stumbled back, her pulse pounding against her ribs. The acrid scent of burning flesh thickened in her throat. The beast twisted toward them, its smoldering frame lurching forward, hunger gleaming in its soulless eyes.

"Get back, Luzia!" Ramiro commanded.

She didn’t move.

She couldn’t.

Not when she had come all this way to save him.

The Maisbeast screeched and lunged—faster this time.

Ramiro lifted his hand, reinforcing his shield, but the beast was faster. It twisted mid-air, limbs bending at grotesque angles. A barbed claw shot past his defenses—

And buried itself deep into his side.

A sharp, wet gasp tore from his lips.

"Dad!" Luzia’s scream split the battlefield.

Elena grabbed her arm. "My lady, stay back!"

Luzia barely heard her. Her world had narrowed to the crimson blooming across Ramiro’s robes.

Ramiro staggered, pain carving deep lines into his face. Esteban swore, launching another spell, but the Maisbeast refused to yield. It pressed forward, its gaping maw yawning wide—

Inches from the kill.

No.

No, no, no—I can’t lose him again.

The air around Luzia crackled. The ground trembled beneath her feet.

A storm of heat surged through her veins—wild, unchecked, unstoppable. The pressure built, burning, expanding—

Then something inside her snapped.

A pulse of sheer, blinding power erupted from her body.

The Maisbeast never had a chance.

One moment, its bloodstained fangs hovered inches from Ramiro. The next, its body twisted apart, shredded by an unseen force.

A shockwave blasted outward. The ruins trembled. Embers swirled like dying stars.

Elena cried out, ducking. Esteban shielded his face, staggering back.

Then—silence.

Luzia swayed. The world blurred, muffled, as though she had been plunged underwater.

Her knees hit the ground. Her hands trembled.

Ramiro groaned, clutching his wound. "Luzia..."

She jolted from her daze, scrambling to his side. Her hands pressed against the wound, slick and warm with blood.

"I—I didn’t mean—Dad, stay with me! Esteban, help him!"

Esteban was already moving, magic pooling in his palms, light spilling over Ramiro’s torn flesh. "Luzia, breathe. He’ll be alright."

She barely heard him.

Her mind replayed the last few seconds—

The Maisbeast disintegrating. The firestorm raging inside her.

The look in her father’s eyes.

Shock.

Fear.

Her breath hitched.

She had power. But no control.

And that terrified her more than anything.

"It’s my fault..." Her voice cracked. "I—maybe I shouldn’t have come. But if I hadn’t, Dad would have died—" Her words tumbled over each other, her thoughts spiraling, tears slipping down her face.

Esteban’s hand came down firmly on her shoulder, grounding her. "Luzia." His voice was calm, urgent. "Breathe."

She blinked rapidly, chest rising in shallow, frantic gasps.

Ramiro let out a weak chuckle, wincing as Esteban’s magic stitched his flesh together. "You saved me, Luzia." His voice was rough but steady. "That’s what matters."

"But I—" She swallowed hard. Her hands still trembled, stained red. "I didn’t control it. It just—happened."

Ramiro’s fingers curled over hers, weak but warm. "It’s okay. Stop crying now."

Elena, still shaken, glanced between them before stepping forward. "My lady, we need to go before more of those things come. You’ve exhausted yourself."

Luzia nodded absently, but the fear in her chest refused to fade.

She had power—enough to tear a creature apart in an instant.

But what if, next time, she couldn’t stop it?

What if, next time, she hurt someone she loved?

Soon one of the soldiers rushed toward Esteban, breathless. "Sir, the Maisbeasts are retreating!"

Esteban frowned. "Retreating? Just like that?"

His eyes flicked toward the battlefield—charred bodies, scattered debris, the lingering scent of burnt flesh. Maisbeasts never retreated. Not unless they were wiped out.

Unless... they were being controlled.

His stomach tightened. But who could command creatures like these?

His gaze snapped to Ramiro, still weakened and barely conscious as soldiers lifted him onto a makeshift stretcher. That’s it. Their target hadn’t been all of them. It had been his lordship all along.

But why?

Esteban’s expression hardened. "We’re leaving. The Duke is injured—we can’t risk another attack."

The soldier nodded and hurried to gather the remaining troops. As they moved to carry Ramiro, Esteban kept his senses sharp, scanning the shadows. The battle was over, but unease curled in his gut.

Whoever had sent the Maisbeasts wasn’t finished yet.

And Luzia... she had awakened something terrifying.

Meanwhile, atop a windswept hill, a cloaked figure stood motionless, shrouded in the night. Their black hood concealed their face, but sharp eyes gleamed with satisfaction beneath the shadows.

Arms folded, they watched as the soldiers carried Ramiro away—his body limp, his robes stained crimson.

A low chuckle rumbled beneath the hood. My work here is done...

The wind howled, tugging at their cloak as they turned away.

There is no way he survives this.

But just as they took a step, a voice cut through the darkness.

"I knew you were nearby."

The figure froze. A slow, measured inhale. Their fingers curled beneath the folds of their robe.

Turning sharply, their gaze locked onto a lone figure standing a few paces away—a boy, silver-haired and red-eyed, unnervingly still.

The moonlight bathed him in an eerie glow. His silver hair shimmered like liquid metal, and his crimson, slit-like eyes burned with something unreadable—amusement, curiosity... or something far more dangerous.

The cloaked figure’s voice came low, guarded. "Oh, Roldan... It’s been years... or should I say, lifetimes upon lifetimes."

The boy tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Don’t act like we’ve always known each other." His gaze flickered with disdain. "Since when did you start manipulating Maisbeasts?"

The figure stilled for a moment. Then, a sharp, breathy laugh escaped them. Slowly, their head tilted to the side—too far, too unnatural.

"Since the day I was blessed," they whispered, voice trembling with something close to reverence. "Since the great Solum opened my eyes and filled my veins with power. His power."

Their fingers twitched beneath the cloak, a faint tremor of excitement.

Roldan raised an eyebrow. "The Solum?" His voice was flat, unimpressed.

The figure’s breath hitched. "You doubt?" Their voice cracked, unsteady, teetering between rage and ecstasy. "You dare doubt His gift? He whispers, Roldan! He guides my hands! Through me, His will takes form—" A manic giggle slipped from their lips. "And soon... oh, soon, you’ll see it too. Everyone will see it."

Roldan sighed, rubbing his temple. "Great. Another lunatic."

His crimson eyes darkened.

"What is this Solum of yours trying to achieve?"

The figure’s lips parted, eyes wide with rapture.

"Just one word."

Roldan’s gaze remained steady, unyielding. "One word?"

The figure exhaled shakily, as if speaking it aloud was a sacred act. Their voice dropped to a whisper, reverent and trembling.

"Aseity."

The wind howled between them, rattling the trees and whipping at their cloaks. Roldan remained still, his expression unreadable, but a flicker of something—annoyance? curiosity?—passed through his crimson eyes.

The figure took a step forward, their excitement barely contained. "He exists beyond need, beyond want. He is self-sufficient, self-created. The world bends to Him, because He wills it." Their breath quickened, almost feverish. "And soon, Roldan... so will you."

Roldan let out a slow breath, his patience thinning. "I see. You’re completely insane."

The figure only grinned, a twisted, knowing smile. "He can save you too."

Roldan’s fingers twitched at his side.

He’d heard enough.