Second Choice Noble Son: Apparently I’m Stronger Than the Summoned Heroes

Chapter 14 : Cracks in the Lion



Chapter 14 : Cracks in the Lion

That night, the house was heavy with silence.

Darius lay on the bed, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His skin glistened with sweat, his face pale, lips dry. He still tried to smile when he saw us, but the strength in that smile was thinner than paper.

Selene sat at his side, wringing out a cloth to lay on his forehead. Her silver hair was disheveled, her hands trembling.

She whispered, almost to herself, “Why didn’t I study more healing? Why did I waste all those years mastering destructive spells, sealing arts, battlefield magic? I was hailed as the Archmage, and yet…”

Her voice cracked. She pressed her hand against Darius’ cheek, tears threatening to fall. “I can’t even ease my own husband’s pain.”

Darius chuckled weakly, catching her hand. “Don’t mock yourself, Selene. The woman I love is the one who burned battlefields for me. Not some healer chained to temples.”

Selene bit her lip, lowering her head, but her tears slipped free anyway.

Across the room, Elara stood stiff, fists clenched at her sides. Her wooden sword leaned against the wall, forgotten.

“Mama,” she whispered, her voice small for the first time in years. “If Father is like this… then I don’t want to go. To the academy. I want to stay here. With him. With all of you.”

Selene turned sharply, wiping her eyes before they could be seen. “Elara—”

But Elara shook her head, tears running freely now. “What if he doesn’t get better? What if he… what if he’s gone when I come back?!”

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Her voice broke, and she covered her mouth, sobbing.

I sat on the floor, too small to climb onto the bed, too weak to do anything but watch. My HUD flickered faintly, cold and logical.

[Observation: Subject’s condition declining.]

[Cause: Unknown mana interference (suspected curse).]

The system offered no solution. And I, with all my knowledge and cheat, could do nothing.

All I could do was listen as my family—my strong, unshakable family—began to crack.

Selene pulled Elara into her arms, holding her close with one hand while the other gripped Darius’. She smiled through tears, her voice steady though it trembled at the edges.

“We’ll endure. We’re Valemonts. We don’t break.”

But I could feel it. The cracks were already there.

The house finally grew quiet.

Selene had fallen asleep in the chair beside the bed, her hand still gripping Darius’. Elara had cried herself out in the next room, her sword clutched to her chest.

Only I was awake, sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at the faint sparks that fizzed from my fingertips.

“Rooga.”

I froze. His voice was hoarse, but steady. Darius’ eyes were open, watching me.

I scrambled to my feet—well, as much as a toddler could—and waddled closer to the bed.

He chuckled faintly, shifting to make room. With trembling arms, he lifted me onto his chest.

“You’re heavier than I thought,” he muttered with a smile. “Already growing strong.”

I blinked at him, wide-eyed.

His hand, rough and calloused, brushed my hair back.

“You watch more than you speak. You don’t cry like most children. And when you look at me…” His eyes narrowed, sharp as a blade despite the weakness in his body. “It’s like you’re measuring me. Like you’ve already seen the world once before.”

My heart skipped. Did he… suspect?

He laughed weakly. “Hah. Don’t mind an old soldier’s rambling. But… you’re different, my son. I can feel it. Even if you never lift a sword, I know you’ll carve your own path.”

His hand trembled as it rested on my back. His voice lowered, serious.

“Whatever happens to me… protect your mother. Protect Elara. Protect the child she carries. That’s my one order to you, Rooga.”

I wanted to answer him. To promise. To swear. But all I could manage with my toddler’s voice was a firm nod and a small, clumsy: “...Yes, Papa.”

For the first time that night, his smile was real.

“Good boy.”

His eyes closed, his breathing slowing. But his hand remained on my back, steady, like he was anchoring himself to me.

And I stayed there, tiny and powerless, with my father’s words burning into my heart like a brand.


Tip: You can use left, right, A and D keyboard keys to browse between chapters.