The Villainous Noble’s Father - Chapter 3

“Leonard… You’re fifteen now. Maybe not quite an adult, but certainly no longer a child.”

I leaned back into the reception sofa in the study of the estate in the royal capital as I said that. Across, sat Leonard, looking nervous and stiff.

For reference, in this country, adulthood officially begins at age eighteen.

This conversation took place the same night I heard that Leonard, just as I remembered from my previous life, had caused a scene at the Royal Academy entrance exams, starting the chain of events that leads to a duel with the protagonist.

That’s when I decided it was time to talk to my son.

Looking back, ever since the war ended fifteen years ago and I inherited the dukedom, my wife and I have done nothing but work. Rebuilding our lands and helping the country recover from the devastation took everything we had.

It was important work, maybe even noble. But the result? A self-important, spoiled noble boy.

And that’s on me.

“This conversation is classified at the highest level. Can you swear not to tell anyone else?”

“Y-Yes! I swear, on my honor as a noble!”

On your honor as a noble, huh?

I’ve been watching Leonard closely for about a week now. His arrogance, his laziness, it all stems from a lack of self-confidence.

Raised as the heir to the duchy in a sheltered environment, he’s never experienced the satisfaction of achieving something on his own. He lacks any real faith in his abilities. What he does have is a vague anxiety, mixed with the delusion that he’s capable of anything, because he’s a duke’s son.

He’s like a little dog barking loudly because it thinks it’s tough.

So, the first thing I need to do is break that illusion. Help him understand what being a “noble” actually means.

“…F-Father? Did I… say something wrong?”

I must’ve gone quiet for too long. Leonard looked at me nervously, his expression almost childlike.

“Let’s start with the basics, what exactly is a noble? Don’t worry, I’m not about to launch into some boring speech about values or pride. I’m talking about practical reality.”

“Practical…?”

“Our role as nobles is to be the sword and shield of this country, defending it from magical creatures and outside threats. That’s been our job since the nation was founded.”

Leonard nodded. That’s common knowledge, something every citizen learns early on.

“But what are magical creatures?” I gave him a look that asked, Do you know?

“Uh, well… Magical beasts, monsters, demons, and then there are demi-human races like elves, dwarves, mermaids, hobbits, giants… I think those all count.”

He got it right. At least he’s not totally clueless. Those are the classic fantasy races you’d find in any Japanese RPG. He perked up a little when I nodded in approval.

“Leonard… we nobles are magical creatures too.”

“W-What? No way… I mean, yes, we do use magic, but still…”

Not a bad instinct. I silently gave him points for thinking it through and continued.

“Yes. Biologically speaking, anyone who can manipulate magic to the degree we can would be classified as a magical creature.”

Long ago, early humans who couldn’t use magic lived in constant fear of monsters. Even defeating just one cost many lives, it was a struggle just to survive.

Then, one day, a warrior was born who could control magic. Maybe it was a random mutation, evolution, or even something they gained by eating a magical beast. No one knows exactly how it happened. But what’s certain is that these magic-wielders multiplied and eventually became what we now call ‘nobles.’

Of course, this story is kept strictly among the high-ranking nobility, because if the general population found out, it could divide society.

…At least, that’s how it was presented in the game’s lore.

Now that I’m living in this world for real, it’s part of actual history. It’s one of those “big reveals” that usually come in the second half of a fantasy game, the truth behind the world.

The developers probably thought it was a clever plot twist, “Surprise! the heroes are actually the enemy!” But to me, it always felt a bit forced.

“I see… So that means demi-humans used to be human, too?”

“That’s right. They evolved, or rather, diverged from humans, specializing more and more in using magic. But yes, their origins are the same.”

Because this story has been passed down among the elite for generations, people in our kingdom don’t really discriminate against other races. But in neighboring countries like the Empire and the Republic, which are newer and don’t know (or don’t care) about this history, racism is rampant.

You see a lot of the usual fantasy tropes, demi-human slavery, that sort of thing.

When I explained this to Leonard in broad strokes, he looked stunned. 

“I… I had no idea…”

He looked like someone had smacked him in the face with a brick of truth. He couldn’t fully process what I’d just told him.

“Oh, and just to be clear, this is highly classified. If you ever speak of it, you could even be executed. Got it?”

“…Wait, what?!”

Sure, some people know, but it’s still a serious state secret.

“Here’s the key point, we nobles are magical creatures. And like magical beasts, we have more aggressive personalities compared to normal humans.”

“!?”

Another fantasy classic, the more magic you have, the more violent and unstable you become. And it’s especially bad during puberty. Mid-teens like you? It’s peak chaos. I’m sure you’ve noticed.

“…Yeah.”

Leonard grimaced, clearly aware.

“Just so you know, this isn’t me making excuses for you. It’s common among young nobles. That’s why the Royal Academy exists.”

In fantasy games, when a character takes in too much magic, they either turn into monsters or get saved at the last second by the power of love and friendship. That’s all well and good for one or two main characters. But when you’ve got thousands of unstable noble teens all over the country? You need structure.

That’s why the Academy exists. It’s both a school and a containment facility.

“S-So the Royal Academy’s real purpose is…”

“It’s a place to teach emotional control and social behavior to powerful but unstable teens. In harsher terms, it’s a cage for wild beasts.”

I laid it out clearly. I wanted to destroy the false image Leonard had of nobility.

“I… I see…”

He slumped back in his chair like someone had just deflated him. He looked even younger than he had before.

“…I’m sorry, Leonard.”

He built his identity on the belief that being a noble made him special. It was obvious to anyone. And now I’d shattered that with the truth.

Because nobles aren’t chosen by the gods. They’re not divine or sacred. They’re just another type of magical creature. Biologically speaking, they’re not even human. Being accepted into the Royal Academy doesn’t mean you’re talented or exceptional.

It just means you’re being contained.

“…I’m sorry.”

I don’t know whether I was apologizing for breaking his spirit, or for letting him grow up this way in the first place.

But either way, the words drifted from my mouth, hung in the air, and then faded away.