Even Though I Defeated the Demon Lord, My Wife and Daughter Treat Me Like Trash ~ I Found Out My Wife's Child Isn't Mine, and When I Confronted Her, She Got Mad and I Was Exiled. The Country's in Trouble Because the Demon Lord Came Back? Sorry, I'm Getting Remarried to a Princess, So I Can't Help. - Chapter 1: Dad Stinks!

Chapter 1: Dad Stinks!

“Ugh, Dad, you’re in the way! Stop lounging around here and go outside!”

On my first day off in weeks, I had collapsed on the living room couch and dozed off, only to be rudely awakened by my daughter, Emilia. 

She just turned ten this year, but her tone was already a perfect copy of her mother’s.

It’s natural that she’d pick up her mother’s habits since they spend the most time together, but couldn’t she at least choose her words a bit more kindly?

As I struggled to sit up, my body creaking from the exhaustion of the past few days, I tried to offer an excuse.

“Sorry, I’m just a little tired…”

“Then go sleep in the bedroom.”

“Well, your mom’s cleaning the bedroom right now.”

“Huh? Then why don’t you go stay at an inn or something? You’re barely ever home anyway. You’re just in the way here!”

“…Sorry.”

My brain was still foggy from lack of sleep, and my body felt like it was dragging an anchor of fatigue. 

Faced with my daughter’s sharp words, I couldn’t even muster the energy to resist.

I knew her demands were unreasonable, but I couldn’t bring myself to argue. Feeling pathetic, I stood up and gave in.

As soon as I vacated my spot, Emilia flopped down on the couch, claiming it like a victorious conqueror. But then, almost immediately, she scrunched up her face in disgust.

“Ugh, it smells like Dad. Gross.”

Emilia quickly got up, cast the “Deodorize” spell—one of the basic life magic spells—on the sofa, and then lay back down.

I know it might sound like a typical parent brag, but Emilia’s magical abilities are way beyond the level of a typical ten-year-old. She’s not just ahead of her peers; even from my perspective, as the kingdom’s top mage, I can only call her a genius.

She’s always loved learning magic since she was little.

When my mentor, who was like a parent to me, was still alive, Emilia often went to play and learn magic from him. Back then, whenever I was home, she would always beg, “Daddy, teach me magic!”

…That’s why seeing her use her incredible talent for something like this makes me feel a little sad.

The fact that my daughter dislikes my smell… 

Watching this, a scene that would wound any father’s heart, I stayed silent. Then, noticing my gaze, she glared at me and snapped.

“What are you looking at? Got a problem?”

I didn’t have a problem. 

Just sadness. But I wasn’t confident I could express it well, so I chose the simplest way out.

“No, sorry.”

I apologized. 

I didn’t really know why a parent had to apologize just for looking at their daughter, but I did it anyway. I was too tired to do anything else.

“Stop saying sorry all the time. Actually, if you’re going to apologize, then just don’t do it in the first place.”

“Oh… right. I’ll just step out for a bit.”

“Yeah, do that. You’re just in the way when you’re here.”

Emilia waved her hand dismissively, like she was shooing away a dog.

…

I should probably say something to correct her.

But lecturing a child who’s nearing adolescence with logic would only make her more stubborn.

Maybe, with time, her attitude will change.

With a feeling that bordered on resignation, I stepped outside.