My Crybaby Father is the Kingdom's Worst Villain
Chapter 50: Stabbed At First Sight.

Chapter 50: Stabbed At First Sight.

Luzia leaned in slightly, curiosity outweighing the lingering weight of grief in her chest. "A spirit beast?"

Ramiro nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yes. Spirit beasts are ancient, powerful creatures that choose a contractor. The bond is deeper than a mage’s connection to magic—it’s symbiotic. They share power, instincts... even emotions, at times. And Dahlia’s bond was unlike anything I’d ever seen before."

Luzia’s brow furrowed. "What kind of spirit beast did she have?"

Ramiro hesitated, his gaze flickering toward her before returning to the fire. "A celestial snow leopard," he finally said. "A rare one—white as snow, with golden eyes that could see beyond the veil of reality itself. It had been passed down through her family for generations. Its name was Zuri."

Luzia’s fingers tightened against his sleeve. "And what happened to it?"

Ramiro’s expression darkened. "It disappeared the night Dahlia died."

Luzia inhaled sharply. "You think—?"

"I don’t know," Ramiro admitted. "No trace of Zuri was ever found. A spirit beast dying with its contractor leaves an unmistakable mark—a rupture in the flow of magic. But there was nothing. Just silence." His jaw clenched. "Either Zuri was taken alongside you, or... someone severed the contract."

A chill ran through Luzia. "Can that even be done?"

Ramiro exhaled. "Not easily. And certainly not without consequences."

Silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Luzia stared above her, her mind racing. If her mother had been murdered, and if someone had gone to such lengths to take her—what did that mean for her? Who had wanted her so badly that they had to steal her away?

And more importantly... why?

"How did you and my mother even meet?" Luzia asked.

"There’s no reason to talk about that right now, Luzia. Let’s get some rest," Ramiro said, his face turning red as he looked away.

"Why not? I’m very much interested in knowing how you met..." Luzia thought as she watched her father.

"You said you would tell me everything," she mumbled. "Why are you avoiding this now? Are you embarrassed?"

Ramiro did not speak.

Luzia narrowed her eyes, arms crossing over her chest as she stared at Ramiro’s turned back. "Oh, I see. You’ll spill all the tragic details about my mother’s death and a missing spirit beast, but the moment I ask how you met her, suddenly it’s bedtime?"

Ramiro tensed, his ears turning a suspicious shade of red.

Luzia scoffed. "Unbelievable. I didn’t think you could get embarrassed. What, did you trip over your own feet and fall into her lap? Stumble into some grand romantic moment like a clumsy fool?"

Ramiro let out a long-suffering sigh. "Luzia."

She leaned forward, relentless. "Or maybe she saved your ass from some dumb decision, and you’ve been too proud to admit it ever since?"

Ramiro groaned, rubbing his temples. "You’re relentless."

"And you’re avoiding the question," Luzia shot back. "You said you’d tell me everything. So? Out with it. Or should I assume the worst and let my imagination run wild?"

Ramiro muttered something under his breath before finally turning to face her, his expression caught between exasperation and resignation. "Fine. But if you laugh, I swear—"

Luzia smirked. "No promises."

Ramiro stiffened, but he didn’t turn back around.

Luzia narrowed her eyes. "Oh my gods, you really are embarrassed."

"I am not," Ramiro muttered, adjusting his position on the bedroll as if that would somehow end the conversation.

Luzia smirked. "You totally are."

Ramiro let out a long, suffering sigh. "Luzia—"

Ramiro muttered something under his breath.

Luzia leaned forward. "What was that?"

"She stabbed me," he said flatly.

Luzia blinked. Then blinked again. "She what?"

Ramiro sighed, finally turning back to face her. "It was a... misunderstanding."

Luzia let out a bark of laughter. "You got stabbed by my pregnant mother? I’m sorry, that’s amazing. No wonder you don’t want to talk about it."

"I wasn’t pregnant at the time!" Ramiro snapped.

"That is what you’re choosing to correct?" Luzia grinned. "Okay, okay—so how’d it happen? What’d you do to get stabbed?"

Ramiro hesitated, but the way Luzia was looking at him—arms crossed, eyebrow raised, fully prepared to drag this out all night—made it clear she wasn’t going to let it go.

He exhaled. "Fine. I was tracking a dangerous rogue mage near the border. Your mother was tracking the same target. We ran into each other. She thought I was after her, I thought she was a threat, and... well, let’s just say she was faster with a blade than I expected."

Luzia whistled. "She got you that good?"

Ramiro scowled. "She didn’t kill me, did she?"

"Yeah, but I bet she wanted to," Luzia snickered. "Sounds like mom had great instincts."

Ramiro shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You really don’t let up, do you?"

"Nope," Luzia said smugly. "So, what happened next? Did she stab you again?"

Ramiro groaned, but there was no real frustration behind it. "If I tell you, will you finally go to sleep?"

Luzia smirked. "Absolutely not, I still have more questions."

Ramiro leaned back slightly, his gaze distant as if recalling something long buried. "After the battle, the ruins were silent. No movement, no magic, just frost creeping over stone and bone alike. Your mother stood in the center of it all, Zuri by her side, both of them untouched by the cold they had unleashed."

Luzia shivered despite the warmth of the fire. "And yet... Zuri vanished when she died?"

Ramiro exhaled. "Yes. No trace, no sign of severance. Just... gone."

Luzia’s mind raced. If Zuri had been bound to her mother in such a deep, symbiotic way, then her disappearance made no sense. Unless... someone had taken her.

She bit her lip. "You said breaking a spirit beast’s contract isn’t easy. What if it wasn’t broken?"

Ramiro’s eyes sharpened. "You mean—?"

"What if Zuri is still out there?" Luzia pressed. "If her bond wasn’t severed the normal way, if someone intervened... maybe she’s waiting."

A flicker of something passed through Ramiro’s expression—hope, maybe, but quickly buried. "That’s a dangerous assumption to make."

"Maybe," Luzia admitted. "But if she’s alive, then I need to find her."

Ramiro’s jaw tightened. "And if she isn’t?"

Luzia met his gaze steadily. "Then I need to know the truth."

Silence stretched between them, heavy and unyielding.

Finally, Ramiro sighed. "We leave at first light."

A small, determined smile tugged at Luzia’s lips. "Good. Then you have time to finish telling me how you met my mother."

Ramiro groaned. "You’re relentless."

"And you’re stalling," Luzia shot back. "I still want to know how you went from ’stabbed’ to ’married.’ how did someone like you win her over?"

Ramiro ran a hand down his face. "I should’ve let your mother finish me off."

Luzia grinned. "Too late now."

Ramiro muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further. "Fine. After she stabbed me, she realized I wasn’t who she thought I was. I was injured, but she didn’t exactly apologize—just dragged me to her safe house and told me to stop bleeding on her floor."

Luzia snorted. "That sounds about right."

Ramiro shook his head, a reluctant smirk tugging at his lips. "She patched me up, but she was not gentle about it. Then, the moment I could stand, she told me I was free to go and walked off like nothing happened."

Luzia tilted her head. "And that was it? Just a stab, some first aid, and you went your separate ways?"

"Not exactly," Ramiro admitted. "I tracked her down a few weeks later. Not for revenge—just... curiosity."

Luzia raised a brow. "Curiosity?"

Ramiro hesitated. "She was interesting."

Luzia smirked. "So you were intrigued by the woman who stabbed you."

Ramiro sighed. "I see where you get your attitude from."

Luzia laughed. "I knew it. You totally fell for her first."

Ramiro didn’t deny it.

Luzia leaned back, her smirk softening into something more thoughtful. "She must have been something else."

Ramiro nodded, his expression distant but warm. "She was."

Luzia let the quiet settle between them, a different kind of silence now—one that wasn’t heavy with grief, but with memory.

"How old were you two back then?"

"Fifteen," Ramiro admitted.

Luzia stared at him, mouth open in disbelief. "Fifteen?!!! You were fifteen when my mother stabbed you?!"

Ramiro winced at her volume. "Lower your voice."

Luzia ignored him. "You were practically kids!"

Ramiro sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yes, and?"

"And?! That means you were running around hunting as teenagers!" She threw up her hands. "What kind of life were you living?!"

Ramiro gave her a flat look. "One where getting stabbed wasn’t the worst thing that could happen."

Luzia groaned. "That is not reassuring."

Ramiro simply shrugged. "It was normal for us."

"Normal?! Tracking down dangerous mages and getting stabbed by future wives! Isn’t normal!"

Ramiro raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

Luzia opened her mouth, then closed it. She exhaled and shook her head.

Ramiro smirked, and she hated that it was the first genuinely amused expression she’d seen from him all night.

She crossed her arms. "So what next, you two just kept running into each other until you fell in love?"

Ramiro’s smirk faded, his gaze turning more introspective. "Something like that."

Luzia’s expression softened slightly. "You must’ve really cared about her."

Ramiro nodded, his voice quieter. "I did."

Luzia sighed. "Fifteen... That explains why you’re so weird about it."

Ramiro huffed. "I am not weird about it."

Luzia gave him a look.

Eventually, she murmured, "We’ll find out what happened. To her. To Zuri."

Ramiro nodded once. "We will. Now enough questions. Get some sleep, Luzia."

She grinned. "Not a chance. I still have more."