“This… this… this…”

Watching his father and mother tenderly intertwine their fingers, gazing deeply into each other's eyes as if no one's around, Moen suddenly felt a sense of being utterly dumbfounded—as if he’d just been mercilessly mocked by reality.

This doesn’t feel right.

I, Moen Campbell, am supposed to be the son you both deeply love, aren’t I?

Where is your doting affection for me?

Where is your meticulous care?

Now you've suddenly abandoned me all at once—is that reasonable?

Is it reasonable!

And why have a younger brother and sister suddenly appeared out of nowhere?

So, based on the original story, does Moen Campbell end up so miserable because you two had new children and just decided to forget about me?

“Uh… Father, Mother, you’re both leaving—what am I supposed to do?”

Feeling the need to salvage the situation, Moen thought at minimum he should tag along with them. Staying behind in Belland, this dangerous hellhole, was simply unacceptable.

“Maybe I could—”

“What do you mean, 'what should I do?'”

Noyce glanced over with a puzzled expression.

“Little Moen, isn't school about to start for you? At St. Maria Academy, meals and lodging are covered, the environment is safe and secure—what’s there to worry about? Oh, and if you’re worried about your pocket money, that’s unnecessary. We’ve already assigned those money to Anne; you can ask her for it if you want.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

St. Maria Academy? The same place packed with protagonist squads and Celicia? How could such a place be considered safe for someone like Moen?

“What I meant was… if I encounter another assassination, what am I supposed to do?”

Moen’s mind raced, desperately searching for a better excuse.

“Yes, assassination! That’s it. Last time I merely got lucky; if I face another assassination, I might not survive!”

“Assassination? Why would anyone want to assassinate you?”

Ron furrowed his brows, clearly struggling to understand.

“What's the benefit for them to assassinate you?”

“Well, of course there are some, because I…”

I am the son of a duke.

Moen had initially planned to say this but froze halfway through.

Wait a second.

He is the son of a duke, but who would even bother to assassinate him in the first place?

Would assassinating him cripple the Campbell family?

No, not at all.

Because currently, the Duke of Campbell is his father, Ron Campbell.

This “Lion King,” still in his prime.

And most importantly…

Moen’s gaze drifted toward Noyce’s pregnant belly.

—Even the second heir to the Campbell family is already in the picture. Who would be foolish enough to endure the wrath of a ducal family just to assassinate him, an idle wastrel?

Nobody’s that bored!

“I know the whole Celicia incident still left scars on you, but just relax, no one would waste their time trying to assassinate you,” Ron said, patting Moen’s shoulder with an encouraging but completely insulting look: the kind of look that said, *You’re so useless, so just relax.*

“And besides, if someone *did* want to assassinate you, they’d probably send someone not that powerful. The manor’s barrier has been reinforced by me—there’s absolutely no problem left now.”

“…”

Moen was at a complete loss.

Was this supposed to be comforting? This felt more like his father was stabbing him straight in the heart with words.

“But—”

“No buts.”

Ron sighed and explained: “I know you don’t want to part with us, we feel exactly the same way.”

“Unfortunately, in this world, it’s hard to find a perfect solution.”

“Your father, me—well, I have to go to the front lines and take command of the troops. The fact that His Majesty has allowed Noyce to return to the countryside and rest during her pregnancy is already a rare act of generosity.”

“As for you, Moen, staying in Belland is simply unavoidable.”

“To be honest, I was quite worried about you, but your recent behavior has exceeded my expectations.”

Ron gently nudged a punch against Moen’s chest, his face full of pride.

“You’ve grown up, Moen Campbell. You’re starting to resemble a real man.”

“Father…”

Moen felt his eyes moisten at his father’s touching words.

But then he realized.

Wait, hold on.

Isn’t this basically leaving me in Belland as a hostage while you go off to seize greater military power?

Should there come a day you slap your thigh and declare, 'I command countless elite soldiers, while that foolish emperor flounders, surrounded by devious courtiers—why don’t we overthrow him?', wouldn’t I be the one the emperor immediately executes?

That sort of ending? Absolutely unacceptable!

But Ron gave him no time to object, sweeping Noyce into his arms and striding toward the carriage.

“Well then, little Moen, we’re leaving now. Be diligent in school,” Noyce said, leaning out the carriage window to wave goodbye.

“Wait…”

“Oh, one last thing.”

Ron turned to Ann.

“Ann, I’m leaving Moen and the estate in your care during this time.”

“Don’t worry, sir.”

Ann bowed respectfully.

“I will absolutely ensure the young master is well cared for, and I’ll never let anyone hurt him.”

“Haha, you’re as reliable as ever!”

Ron chuckled before momentarily shifting his gaze to Moen, a playful glint in his eyes.

He mouthed words silently while his voice materialized directly inside Moen’s head:

“Moen, if you can’t find any noble ladies for now, Ann could be the one too. Unlike other stuffy old dukes, I don’t care about status as long as someone can give the Campbell family children.

Besides, once your mother and I leave, you’ll have plenty of alone time with Ann—a perfect chance. Ann definitely wouldn’t resist you!”

“Father! What kind of nonsense are you saying!” Moen blushed furiously.

“Haha! Enough talk—off we go!”

Ron burst into laughter, yanking the reins forcefully.

The griffin let loose a deafening screech, spread its massive wings wide, and ascended into the sky, pulling the carriage with it.

“Goodbye, little Moen.”

Noyce waved hard from the window.

“Goodbye, Mother.”

“Goodbye, Father. Please be careful on the road.”

Moen could only cry inside as he watched the source of his security and biggest pillar of support vanish from sight.

...

“Ah, fate—fate, why must you torment me so? Did those five golden draws cost me *this* much in karma?”

Staring at the towering desolate estate gate, Moen suddenly felt a matching void in his heart.

Now that his father had left, the flawless plans he had crafted mere moments ago seemed entirely ruined.

Once again, he would have to face the lurking dangers ahead—bare, fragile, as if he were stumbling like a newborn child exposed to the cruel world.

“Does this world truly despise the cursed blonde-haired villain and it turns out to be me?” Moen muttered self-deprecatingly.

“Moen, are you alright?”

Ann noticed Moen’s change in demeanor and approached with concern.

“Are you heartbroken?”

“I’m fine.”

Moen shook his head and began walking toward the interior of the mansion.

“What’s your plan for the day, then?”

Ann followed quickly behind. “Shall I fetch breakfast now, or perhaps would you like to visit the garden? Those new varieties of tulips your Mother imported—they’ve just started blooming.”

“No, neither of those.”

Moen replied: “I’m going to the library.”

“Eh?”

Ann paused briefly, looking at Moen’s retreating figure with disbelief.

The young master, who usually avoided books like the plague, voluntarily heading to the library?

“What about breakfast then?”

“Bring it to the library.”