Reincarnated as the Villain’s Father

Together with Rebecca, we finally managed to find the exit and leave the dungeon behind. The silver-haired woman at my side was now a mage in possession of three technique seeds, an exceedingly rare feat. Though she hadn't yet fully assimilated the third one; such a process took time.

But thinking back on it now, this woman -this Rebecca- was dangerously powerful. A fire technique capable of sudden, wide-range destruction. A time-manipulation technique. And now, a third one tied to the element of darkness. Damn it. I'd better watch what I say around her.

The weight of the dungeon no longer hung over us. The air outside was cooler, lighter. As I turned toward Rebecca, I caught her stealing a glance at me. Our eyes met. Hers narrowed with a flicker of hesitation. I couldn't quite read her thoughts.

"Something wrong?" I asked silently.

"Aren't you going to tell me how you made it out?"

Her gaze didn't waver. When her eyes narrowed, it wasn't suspicion, it was curiosity. But the kind of curiosity that led to dangerous questions.

I held the silence, then answered without looking away.

"First, whatever I'm about to say, you can't tell anyone. Not even our father."

My voice was firm. She stood still, eyes narrowed. That was when she stopped using words and began to rely on instinct.

Rebecca tilted her head slightly. "I'm listening," she said. No oath, no promise. But that was enough. I trusted not her words, but her silence.

"Igrathar wasn't just a typical dungeon final boss. He was a sealed demon god, imprisoned by the the superior ones."

Rebecca's eyes widened instantly. Her calm demeanor shattered. Her brow furrowed; her lips parted, but no words came.

I continued.

"He gave me a technique in exchange for vengeance. And naturally, since I had no other choice, I accepted. That's why I'm still alive. because I made a pact with Igrathar. And if I break it… well, death would be the least of my worries."

Rebecca blinked slowly, then narrowed her eyes again. Through her silver lashes, she gave me a look so sharp it felt almost foreign. It was the kind of look you see only on the battlefield. When you first realize the person guarding your back might also be the one to stab it.

"You… became a vessel for a god?" she whispered. Her voice was barely audible, but it carried a frozen tremor. "And you're telling me this now?"

I didn't avert my eyes. If I did, I'd appear wrong. And I couldn't afford to look wrong in front of Rebecca.

"What was I supposed to do, turn to you in the middle of the dungeon and say, 'Hey Rebecca, I died and came back, and now I'm a heir for a divine being'?"

She frowned, but held back her reaction.

"Who exactly do you need to kill? The the superior ones? How the hell do you plan to do that?"

Her voice was still calm… but it was the calm before the storm. Every word laid like stone upon the earthquake building inside her, cold, heavy, and irreversible.

I took a deep breath. I'd known this question would come. But the answer could shatter the last remnants of trust between us.

"Yes," I said. "Igrathar wants revenge against the the superior ones."

Rebecca turned her head slightly but didn't look away. "What have you dragged us into, Leo? We should never have gone to that dungeon in the first place."

"Us?" I echoed, the surprise in my voice evident.

Rebecca turned back to face me, taking a step closer. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes blazed like fire.

"What did you think, Leo? That while you declare war on the the superior ones, I'd just sit back and watch?"

I didn't know what to say. Because truthfully, that's exactly what I had expected. How was I supposed to challenge the the superior ones on my own?

As for who they the superior onesrior ones were, they were beings of divine power. Individuals or entities who had surpassed their limits and broken through the natural boundaries. Unlike ordinary people, they weren't restricted to three technique seeds.

Some lived among us disguised as normal humans. Others ruled their own domains. But the majority were members of the Divine Council, a body meant to preserve the world's balance and guide the evolution of life.

At least, that was the ideal. In reality, the council had become a cesspool of corruption.

There were still some good members, of course. But most had twisted the council's purpose to serve their own ambitions. According to the novel, my son Lucareth would one day wage war against the council, slaying many of the the superior ones and making history, only to be killed by another the superior ones… the story's protagonist, the Hero.

In short, I was royally fucked up. No, spectacularly fucked up. In the original novel, the Hero's childhood friend inherited Igrathar's legacy and became one of the villains. But now that I had inherited that legacy, I'd already altered the future. I could only pray the butterfly effect didn't bite me in the ass.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I turned back to Rebecca.

"Reb… you can't risk your life because of me."

"Oh? Just like you risked yours for me?" She took another step closer. "We're in this together now, Leo. The moment you chose to protect me, our fates became entwined."

Her words hung in the air, sharp, hard… but carrying an unexpected warmth. I didn't look away. There was no point running anymore. This burden was no longer mine alone. Rebecca's gaze made that crystal clear.

"In this war, Leo," she said, her voice steady, "if we win, we'll usher in a new era. If we lose… history won't even remember our names." Her shoulders squared. "And I can live with either outcome."

A dark ache stirred inside me. I swallowed. My voice came out low.

"We're still at the beginning. Igrathar's revenge, the corrupt council… they're towering mountains before us. Maybe mountains we can't even climb."

Rebecca stepped even closer. Her silver hair fluttered gently in the wind. "Then we break those mountains. As long as we know where they begin."

We walked a few more steps. The path was rocky, but the dungeon's suffocating air was gone. The mountains ahead loomed on the horizon, distant silhouettes of freedom… and of war.

"What's our first move?" Rebecca asked.

I paused, letting the echoes of that infernal pact roll through my mind. The demon's voice. The power twisting inside me. But in Rebecca's eyes, I saw certainty. Not blind loyalty. Not foolish attachment. Just a decision, cold, deliberate.

"We get stronger. As much as we can. Then we gather a team, people strong enough to help us destroy the council… or at least those with the potential to."

Rebecca smiled slightly, but there was a dangerous edge to it. I saw in her eyes a calm bloodlust, not the hunger for battle, but the resolve to tear out rot by the roots.

"Potential, huh… So, the hunt begins," she said, her voice calm but threatening.

I nodded. "But no rushing. The council and the the superior ones mustn't detect us yet. For now, we stay in the shadows. When we're ready… we'll strike. One by one."

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. "Then we need clear goals. What kind of warriors are you looking for? Strength alone isn't enough. We need the right ones. If we chase fools, this will fall apart in the first storm."

"Exactly." My voice was resolute. "I have three criteria. First, those who see the system's injustice. Second, those with the will to surpass their limits. Third and most important. Loyalty. Not opportunists trying to curry favor with the council. I want people willing to burn with us."

Rebecca nodded, her smile widening slightly. "Well, you've already got a crazy sorceress backing a demon heir. Finishing that list should be easy for you."

Seeing that steely resolve in her eyes, for a brief moment, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter. In a world like this, where challenging the the superior ones meant near-certain death, finding a trustworthy ally… was nothing short of a miracle.

The road ahead was rugged, but clear. The mountains pierced the sky like jagged blades. Rebecca fell silent, giving me space to think, yet listening intently, committing every word to memory.

But I knew what had to come next. After some rest at the estate and a little more progress with Annabel, I'd visit the love of my life. The mother of the Hero.

Wait for me, my love. I'm coming for you.