CHAPTER 68: LET ME INTRODUCE MYSELF

Azel looked down at his open palm, then back up at the others, whose wide-eyed expressions were frozen between shock and disbelief.

’Great. Now I look like some lunatic stuffing random pills into women’s mouths.’

Well he couldn’t blame them, even he would assume so if he saw someone stuffing something into a random woman’s mouth.

That was not the impression he’d been going for.

In truth, he had been waiting for this encounter for a long time.

Back when he still lived under the same roof as the Sword Saint, he had often wondered what he would do when he met her.

He had considered countless scenarios for restoring her lost memories — rituals, divine blessings, even baiting her into familiar situations.

After all, even the Saintess could not restore broken memories... Divine power couldn’t alter one’s mind directly, that was one of the limitations of it.

But when the System Store became available, all that careful planning went out the window.

Why sweat over the "how" when you could just... buy a solution?

He’d purchased the memory restoration pill months ago, thinking he might not need it anytime soon but it had been for this moment, in case he ran into her, after all her location wasnt known in the novel even the specific time she left this continent.

Yet here she was — years ahead of schedule, but hey, he wasn’t complaining.

Elga stepped forward, her eyes darting between her daughter and the man who had just done the unthinkable.

Her lips trembled, and when she finally spoke, her voice cracked.

"W–What... w–what did you give my daughter?"

The question came out half-stammer, half-accusation, like she was forcing the words past a wall of panic.

Azel let out a slow sigh, his voice calm but firm.

"The pill helped her regain her memories."

The moment the words left his mouth, Elga froze.

She remembered the day she had found Emilia — a lonely girl wandering near the old forest trail, disoriented and trembling.

The girl could only recall her first name, nothing else.

Elga had taken her in without hesitation, raising her as her own for years.

Now... now this stranger claimed to have returned the memories Emilia had once lost.

Was he telling the truth? If so... did this mean her real family had been searching for her all this time?

Guilt swelled inside Elga’s chest like a rising tide.

She should have tried harder to find the girl’s origins.

She should have —

Her spiral was broken by the sudden warmth enveloping her.

Azel had stepped forward and wrapped her in a firm embrace.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice soft but carrying a depth that silenced the air around them. "Thank you very much."

Elga blinked, startled. "Why... why are you thanking me?"

But Azel didn’t answer her right away.

His eyes softened when he glanced past her to Emilia, who had just blinked herself out of a strange haze.

Emilia looked down at her hands as though seeing them for the first time — no, more like remembering them.

’So... I’ve regained my past memories,’ she thought, strangely calm.

She had been gone for years — her father must have searched endlessly for her yet panic didn’t come.

She wasn’t a little girl anymore; she knew that dwelling on what she’d lost wouldn’t help.

Instead, a single thought pushed to the front of her mind.

’I wonder how Father is doing?’

Her gaze shifted to the man who had brought those memories back.

Azel... The rumors said that he was the son of the sword saint but she knew now... he didn’t look anything like her father, so maybe he was one of his students?

Yes it could be that, she couldn’t believe that her father had remarried, she would ask him.

But that aside, rumors of him had spread even into Rochel city where they lived.

They said he had mastered the Dragon Saint Style — one of the most grueling sword techniques in existence.

Her father had once warned her about its difficulty, calling it a style "only the insane or the truly gifted" would pursue.

That was what it meant to be Sword Saint and she was the one meant to learn it. Yet she wasn’t jealous of him, she could and she would learn it.

If the rumors are true, then he’s a very capable man, she mused.

But even as her mind analyzed him, her heart pulled in another direction.

She could feel the ache of longing to see her father again rising in her chest, stronger and stronger, until it was nearly suffocating.

Azel finally pulled away from Elga, though his expression held the same quiet gratitude.

Without a word, he reached down and scooped Lillia into his arms, patting her head until the little girl giggled.

Then he turned to Emilia, his eyes steady.

"So, dear sister," he said with a faint smile that made everyone pause, "shall we go somewhere to talk?"

The words hit the room like a dropped blade.

"Dear... sister?" Elga’s mouth fell open.

Hilda blinked rapidly, clearly wondering if she’d heard wrong.

Rain just stared, her suspicion morphing into outright alarm.

[Oho~ Such an interesting scenario]

...

Minutes later, they were seated in the modest living room of Elga’s home.

The scent of steeping tea drifted in from the small kitchen, mixing with the faint aroma of herbs that hung in the air.

Rain sat stiffly with Lillia — surprisingly perched comfortably on her lap.

Hilda occupied a chair off to the side, her brows drawn.

Azel lounged casually, though his gaze flicked toward the hallway where Emilia was preparing the tea.

"Sir Azel, do you prefer herbal tea or just regular?" Emilia’s voice called from the other room.

"Just regular," Azel replied.

A moment later, she appeared, moving with the same composed grace she’d had before — but now, there was something sharper in her eyes.

She set the teapot down and poured with practiced precision, filling each cup before speaking.

"Well," she began, her tone almost conversational, "I suppose I should introduce myself properly."

She set the last teacup in front of Azel, her lips curving into a small smile.

"I am Emilia Thorne... daughter of the Sword Saint."

The statement landed with the weight of a hammer.

Rain’s brows shot up, her mind racing. Hilda’s teacup rattled faintly against the saucer in her hands.

Even Elga, who already suspected something, swallowed hard.

[I see. No wonder her aura is like that]