Mental Rebirth: The World's Savior Was Not Me, but My Childhood Friend and Stalker - Chapter 18: False Bonds

“To activate ancient weapons, immense magical power is required. It’s unfortunate, but I’m lucky. To find an Elder Elf like you here, Rubure. Come, let’s go together, my daughter. As your father, you should listen to me.”

Even as he was shrouded in an evil aura, Treson’s expression towards Rubure remained unchanged, which made it all the more eerie.

“Pa… Papa… What do you mean by immense magical power? What were you trying to do to me just now?” “Ah, Rubure. Don’t worry. It’s just a matter of breaking your spirit. Unlike other elves, we Elder Elves harbor vast magical power within us. You understand, right, Rubure? It’s fate. You’ll become the living unit for the ancient weapon, for your father’s sake. You came to meet me for this, right?”

In contrast to Rubure’s paling face, Treson’s expression didn’t change. With the same look of affection he had for his daughter, he coldly stated she was to become a living unit – a sacrifice.

I couldn’t comprehend any of it. What was the family love he showed earlier? It seemed genuine. How could he say such a thing now?

“You’re joking, right, Papa? A living unit… breaking my spirit… that’s like being dead… Papa, are you telling me to die?” “Yes, exactly! Smart girl, Rubure. Indeed, physical life won’t end, but when the heart dies, and you become nothing more than a flesh doll, it’s hardly living. Philosophically speaking, it’s akin to a corpse. I’m so proud, Rubure. You’ve grown so much. So, you understand, right? Die for your father.”

His response was immediate. Rubure was told to die by her father.

Rubure was in a whirlwind of emotions. Her eyes were wide open, her shoulders trembling, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Yet her mouth grins, recalling the joyful reunion with her beloved father. Anger, sorrow, joy – conflicting emotions swirled inside her.

Being wished death by her father was the ultimate betrayal. Yet she also remembered her father’s loving gaze, who had stroked her head just before.

I couldn’t just stand there and watch. I had to intervene between Rubure and Treson. His vile actions, his despicable nature, were corrupting Rubure.

“Rubure? Hmm… Not listening to your father, are you? That’s bad. But don’t worry. I told you, right? I’ve already made the preparations.”

Treson’s staff glowed ominously, and a magic circle appeared. Rubure screamed. When I turned around, I saw several magic circles surrounding her, centered on her head.

“When I stroked your head earlier, I had already set up the magical formula. Now, Rubure, you’ll quietly listen to your father, won’t you?”

His previous affectionate gesture was nothing but a prelude to betrayal. What I thought was genuine fatherly love was completely false and twisted. And the magic circles around us were…

“This is a forced contract spell! To put it simply for Rubure, it’s like a slave crest. Haha, don’t worry, Rubure. I’ll break you immediately after enslaving you.”

Elf enslavement is a deeply rooted issue. Their appearance isn’t the only reason. The magical power within elves is valued for research, and parts of their bodies are used in medicines. Elves are a precious resource with no part to waste, which is why they detest slavery. It’s an absolute taboo to any elf, never to be touched.

Yet, this was done by her father, crossing an unforgivable line. There was no longer any doubt that their bond as parent and child was completely severed.

The contract magic circle enveloped Rubure. It was nothing but deep despair. She never imagined her father would do this to her. It felt like a negation of her entire life. All the reasons she had lived for seemed meaningless, wishing she had stayed alone forever in the forest. Consumed by deep regret, the spell was about to complete…

Suddenly, the magic circle shattered. The magic backfired, flowing back into Treson’s staff, blasting him away.

“What!? This is… anti-magic formula!? Rubure, when did you learn such advanced magic!? Or is it a demon-repelling amulet? But no amulet could deflect such a strong forced contract spell unless it’s of national treasure class… Either way, you’re thorough, my daughter. Sad, though! To think I was so mistrusted!!”

Treson, half-excited, analyzed the recent event. Rubure, for her part, seemed unable to grasp what had just happened. Indeed, the spell was fully set, but at the last moment, it was neutralized.

“Could it be… My hidden talents awakened at this critical moment?” “No. Treson, have you forgotten the nature of the contract crest? A double contract is impossible.”

The contract crest, called the slave crest by Treson, is essentially a guarantee for fulfilling a contract. Hence, a double contract is not permissible. It made sense. Rubure already had a contract crest on her abdomen, which Mei placed. That’s why Treson didn’t notice. He couldn’t fathom his daughter already bearing such a crest. Especially one that…

“It’s absurd… The contract I just placed on Rubure is of the highest order! My spell should have overpowered it even if there was a prior contract. Could it be…”

Indeed, Rubure already bore the highest order of contract crest, one pledging absolute obedience to her master. Treson trembled, unable to believe this turn of events.

“That’s ridiculous… Rubure, as a slave, how dare you call me your father? Disgusting. Revolting. I never imagined you were such a failure. To think you’re not even usable as a material.”

Disappointment and a sigh. Treson unleashed a barrage of merciless insults on Rubure. His words were unthinkable for a father addressing his daughter.

“Wait, that’s too much! Sure, Rubure has a contract crest, but she’s not the filthy creature you think she is!”

I felt partly responsible for this situation. Treson needed to be corrected. We had placed the contract crest on Rubure as a precaution, ensuring she wouldn’t betray us anything more.

Treson sighed deeply at my words.

“It doesn’t matter what was done with the slave crest. The problem is the fact that it was placed. Elves, especially Elder Elves, must be noble beings. To bear such a lowly mark… it’s no better than a lower creature.”

Treson looked at his daughter with disdain as if this was a fact.

“Hold on! Isn’t that contradictory to what you were trying to do? She’s your daughter, right!? Why would you… do something so terrible to your daughter!!” “Rubure is my daughter, my property. I can do as I please. Do not interfere in family matters… Alas, it seems I must take Rubure to the altar by force. I loathe to touch a filthy slave elf, but…”

The contradiction was clear. Or maybe Treson just didn’t want to understand. To him, Rubure was not his daughter, just a material with utility. The contract crest was merely a blemish on otherwise useful material. When he abandoned her to join the Demon Lord’s army, I thought there was a reason, but it was nothing more than discarding something unnecessary.

“Am I… just an unwanted child to Papa…?”

Rubure finally spoke, her voice frail, her eyes filled with tears.

“Even rotten, you’re still an Elder Elf. You have utility. That’s all. Don’t ever call me father again; it’s repulsive.” 

“I can… be useful! I can be of help to Papa!! Don’t say that… I’ll be a good girl… I can be useful…”

Rubure approached Treson, almost clinging to him, but he looked at her contemptuously. I grabbed Rubure’s arm, and she turned to me, her face full of confusion.

“Let go… I have to go to Papa.”

I couldn’t let her go. I couldn’t allow it because that would mean death. Knowing she was going to her death, how could I stand idly by?