30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 288

"......Ahem."

Everyone present let out a hushed breath, momentarily at a loss for words.

—[The Hidden History of Mordred.]

The only one aware of this matter was Guinevere, Mordred’s long-standing ally. At most, the Pendragon royal family and Galahad might have had some vague idea.

That meant only a handful within the entire kingdom knew the truth.

And yet, here was a complete stranger, whom they had met for the first time today, casually revealing knowledge of such a well-kept secret.

Their minds reeled.

But the man responsible for their bewilderment?

"This isn't even difficult. There are at least five other people around me who could figure this out."

"That just means those around you are just as extraordinary as you are...."

"Extraordinary? First time anyone's ever called me that. You nobles sure love to overreact."

"...Did a noble scam you or something? You spew noble-hatred as naturally as breathing."

"Enough small talk. So, I take it my guess was correct."

"......"

The one who had left them all stunned seemed completely unfazed. freewebnøvel.coɱ

As if he'd merely solved a trivial riddle.

"...Hah."

His audacity was beyond measure, and even as he arrogantly took a sip of tea, no one could find the words to reprimand him.

Cain couldn't help but wonder where in the world such a creature had suddenly sprung from.

What in the world happened outside during the five years we were gone?

He was a knight Cain had neither seen nor heard of during their time away.

At first, he had even suspected the man might be the Fierce Wolf or the Black Lion in disguise, but after a brief exchange, it became clear he was nothing like them.

The one thing Cain had discerned was that this man was exceptionally strong—and just as intelligent.

Even though they had barely spoken for an hour or two, Cain was certain of one thing.

This man was not beneath him.

Nor beneath his father.

Neither in strength, nor in anything else.

Which led to one question—

Why?

Why was this man acting on behalf of Mordred?

What does he stand to gain?

A warrior of his caliber wouldn't move without reason.

Cain couldn’t help but be curious about his motives.

At that moment—

"...I understand your intentions. You're aiming for the Accursed King—that damnable 'pest' of a being."

The old knight—no, the commander of the Hundred Ghosts Shield Knights, the strongest knight of Mordred—spoke with a grave expression.

"But that is impossible. This is our war, the war of Mordred. It is the duty our ancestors left behind for us. We cannot entrust it to an outsider."

With each word, a weighty presence filled the space, layer upon layer, like an immovable fortress.

On the surface, it might have seemed like the stubbornness of a knight, the obstinacy of an old man, or even the arrogance of a noble—the very thing that man despised.

But those present immediately realized # Nоvеlight # the truth.

He approves of him.

Cain could see right through his father’s thoughts.

This man wasn’t of Mordred’s bloodline, nor was he even from Wales.

And yet, he was recklessly throwing himself into the very depths of hell.

Cain's father was worried.

A remarkable young man, full of potential, was about to throw himself away for nothing more than youthful bravado.

It was a sentiment they could all understand.

And so, at some point, everyone’s gaze naturally turned toward him.

They were grateful, yes—but they could not allow him to bear the same "curse" they did.

It would only be right to ignore his offer and—

"—If you tell me where that damn god is, I'll give you some cookies that little Louise made. For the record, these are the first cookies she’s ever baked in her life."

"......"

"As a bonus, I even have photos of her making them."

Thud.

"......"

"...What are you doing, Father?"

"Ahem. It is simply the natural desire of a grandfather to see his eight-year-old granddaughter’s face."

"...I am her father."

"So what?"

"......"

"I'll let you have the photos, but leave the cookies."

"Haha, have some pity on an old man who could drop dead any day now."

"Hah! Stop spouting nonsense. You’ll outlive me at this rate."

"......"

"......"

—And thus, a father-son struggle ensued.

***

"That tiny thing grew this much?"

"Grew? What do you mean? She’s still tiny."

"My god...."

"Look at those chubby cheeks."

"...She takes after her mother completely."

"She’ll grow into a beauty. Well, that’s only natural—after all, she takes after the most beautiful woman in Mordred."

Unlike the foolish adults still locked in their cold war, the others were staring at the picture Ihan had handed over, their eyes sparkling with emotion.

Their youngest sibling.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

With an age gap of over ten years, their gaze toward Louise was not that of older brothers but of parents looking at their own child.

She’s never getting married.

Nine older brothers, an overwhelmingly dominant father-in-law, and a terrifying great-grandfather.

Whoever tried to take her away would be nothing short of pitiful.

"If any bastard dares to make this child cry, I, Felix, will tear them limb from limb!!"

...And then there was a cousin built like a bear.

Yeah, whoever wants to marry her will need to be an Aura User at the very least.

That was the bare minimum requirement to survive these people.

While Ihan was lost in these absurd thoughts, the battle between father and son finally reached its conclusion.

"You still have a long way to go, boy."

"...Did you really have to beat your own son so earnestly?"

"Hmph."

The knight who had claimed victory over the cookies showed no interest in the defeated. Instead, he carefully stroked the small cloth pouch, as if afraid the cookies inside might break.

"To think that little thing has grown so much...."

The cookies themselves were unimpressive.

Clearly, this was a child's first attempt at baking, and the clumsy results were undeniable.

But there was no doubt—

Even if these cookies were moldy or laced with poison, these men would eat them all.

And they would savor every bite as if they were the most delicious cookies in the world.