# Chapter 64
“…He often shared such stories with me.
I never mentioned them to others, thinking it might cause unnecessary trouble.”
Kiriel spoke calmly.
Bernie would say things like, “This might happen once or twice a week,” or “Invest here, and you could become fabulously rich,” or even “There will be heavy rains and a flood in this region.”
When asked where he got such information, Bernie always blamed the Phoenix.
“Not a very convincing liar,” Kiriel thought.
Even with his eyes twitching nervously as he spoke, it didn’t inspire much confidence.
But Kiriel didn’t press him for answers.
There was an unspoken line, one that seemed uncrossable—a boundary that shouldn’t be violated.
“What’s the accuracy of his predictions?”
“So far, 100%.”
Kiriel, however, understood.
A child with such power could never live quietly or remain unnoticed forever.
Ignoring it indefinitely wasn’t an option either.
“…Are you saying he truly makes prophecies?
Is it the Phoenix’s power?”
“I don’t know.
We haven’t uncovered anything about the Phoenix yet.”
Rudebrid crossed his arms and let out a long groan.
“As I said before, don’t force anything on the child.
Let her grow up normally until she’s old enough to understand her situation.”
Kiriel’s voice carried a sharp warning.
Though displeased, Rudebrid clenched his jaw and said nothing.
He, too, had someone unforgettable—a person who disappeared under the weight of the name ‘hero.’
Even a gifted child born into the family was a problem.
The world would never leave such a child in peace.
“…Fine.”
After a long silence, Rudebrid finally replied.
Kiriel’s eyes widened in surprise.
It was an unexpected answer.
She had anticipated a speech about power coming with responsibility or people having roles to fulfill.
It would have been typical of him—what he had always said in the past.
As Kiriel stared at him intently, Rudebrid took his time organizing his thoughts before speaking again.
“Since it’s coming from you, it’s unlikely to be nonsense.
Being cautious won’t hurt...
Let’s postpone any arguments with them until after we complete the strategy.
Any objections, Klein?”
“Objections?
What’s the point of my opinion when the decision’s already been made?
No complaints here.”
Although his expression betrayed reluctance, Klein couldn’t openly oppose a decision agreed upon by three of the four main family members.
“Then let’s inform the Imperial City about this matter and request cooperation through them, reaching out to the Magic Tower—or rather, the Magic Nation.
Wasn’t it called ‘Alpatria’ now?”
With even Klein conceding, Rudebrid nodded and closed the matter.
“Next… the Phoenix issue.
Rumors have already spread.
We’ve been inundated with gifts, requests for audiences, and invitations to the upcoming Moonlight Banquet.
What about you all?”
“Don’t even mention it.
Every temple I visit asks if the Phoenix is real...
I haven’t even seen it myself, so how should I know?”
“To think that little thing was actually a Phoenix…”
“At first, no one even thought it was an egg.”
At Salame and Klein’s comments, Rudebrid let out a long sigh.
In truth, they knew little about the Phoenix.
It was only known as the sacred beast of the founding patriarch.
After the first Duke of Eudia, the Phoenix had never appeared again.
It possessed extraordinary healing powers, capable of curing any illness short of death.
And based on recent observations, it seemed to have abilities related to foresight.
Oh, and it fed on sacred stones.
Yet, it didn’t eat them indiscriminately.
Even after being presented with a pile of sacred stones, the Phoenix hadn’t grown or absorbed any of them.
As the discussion swirled around the table, Kiriel finally spoke.
“The Phoenix doesn’t need to be a formal agenda item.
She’s my daughter, and I’ll handle it.
I’ll report any significant developments.”
Rudebrid narrowed his eyes.
Though he found it unpleasant, even Rudebrid didn’t want to thrust that young, pure, and cheerful child into a world rife with schemes and deceit.
After all, he’d already experienced one painful failure.
“Have you found anything about Bernie’s parents?”
“That’s supposed to be your job, isn’t it, Father?”
“I tried.
I gave them a few strands of the child’s hair and asked for help.
But… Pegasus couldn’t find anything.”
Rudebrid recalled the Pegasus, which had caught the scent but showed no intention of moving.
Slowly, he shook his head.
“No, it didn’t even pretend to search.”
“If Pegasus couldn’t find them, then…”
“…They’re probably no longer in this world.”
At Rudebrid’s words, Kiriel pressed her lips tightly together.
She had looked into it as well—into Bernie, his history, and his origins.
But there was almost nothing to be found.
Most of the information or records had been completely erased.
“Even the orphanage director didn’t know much,” she thought.
All they could tell her was that one warm day, the child was found crouching alone in front of the orphanage.
“Have you identified which branch family his parents belonged to?”
“No.
There are too many branch families to count.
I’ve ordered the records to be checked and compared one by one.”
In response to Klein’s question, Rudebrid let out a short sigh.
For now, there was nothing more they could do.
“Anyway, Bernie will be placed under your care.”
At those words, Kiriel’s gaze shifted to Rudebrid.
“Take good care of him.”
Rudebrid added softly, as if as an afterthought.
Ahem!
After clearing his throat once, Rudebrid continued.
“Do not disclose any more information about the Phoenix.
And don’t let Bernie leave the estate or the duchy until he’s grown up.
There’s no safer place than here.”
“…Understood.”
Kiriel’s curt reply made Rudebrid nod in satisfaction.
“Next…”
“Don’t even think about dragging up ridiculous ideas like Bernie’s engagement during such an important meeting, Father.”
Before Rudebrid could finish, Klein cut him off sharply.
Rudebrid smirked, clearly annoyed, before responding.
“Of course, I was going to say no.
He’s far too young!
Not to mention far too brilliant and full of potential for the future.
Do you think I’d hand over a child like that to the royal family?
It’s an obvious refusal.”
“I’ll handle the rejection myself,” Kiriel interjected.
“…That’s fine, but be careful with your words.
They’re royalty, after all.”
Rudebrid added, looking uneasy.
Kiriel shrugged nonchalantly.
“And finally…”
“Speaking of which, what’s this about my brother?
You said there’s much to discuss regarding him.”
Rudebrid furrowed his brow, crossing his arms before finally speaking slowly.
“Your brother… Dios… it seems he might have had a daughter.”
As soon as he finished speaking, an eerie silence filled the room.