CHAPTER 62: THE GRANDPA & THE UNCLE HAVE COME

Rosalia — POV

Cassel’s hug was warm—overly almost burning, as if every muscle in his body had been radiating heat like liquid metal beneath the skin.

But in that second, as the fire in that embrace enveloped me, a chill ran deep in my bones.

It wasn’t a mild cold, nor one that crept over the skin’s surface.

No—this chill was deep inside me, a heavy coldness sitting in my chest, spreading slowly, hollowing me out from within.

I wasn’t scared of Cassel murdering anyone.

No... that fear had long ago been replaced by something else-something more weighty and much more painful.

What gnawed at me, what twisted my insides until they seemed raw, was the sorrow and compassion I felt for the small girl shivering softly in my embrace.

A small, fragile creature, clinging on tightly, oblivious to the storm that starts to rise around her.

The only protection I could give her from the storm brewing around us was the embrace that I wrapped her in.

I had no opportunity to talk, no way to soothe Cassel’s rage, nor even to shield the child’s gaze before the violence erupted.

Everything happened too fast, and with too much force.

She slipped into a fearful hysteria, calling out for her father and flailing violently until her small fists were hitting me as though, by her distress, she might break herself free.

Her screams were piercing the air and quaking with pure fear.

Cassel was holding me in his arms, and I had no stable ground beneath me.

The wild struggling of the child only made holding onto her slight body more arduous as she jerked about uncontrollably, slipping from my grasp and forcing me to wrap my arms around her lest she fall.

These sharp, sudden movements yanked me out of my shock and dragged me violently back into the reality of the moment.

I needed to do something.

I needed to act before everything spiraled beyond repair.

I couldn’t let Cassel kill the child’s father, even if he had wronged me.

Even though he deserved the punishment.

I do not want to be the reason she is orphaned. I couldn’t bear the thought of her father’s blood spilled at her feet.

"Cae—"

Before I could utter another word, a furious voice roared from the opposite direction, loud enough that even the screaming child’s voice faltered.

Before my eyes, an old man with stark white hair stepped out from behind the broken fence... and as he emerged yet another section of the wooden wall shattered spectacularly.

The cracked planks burst apart, scattering splintered wood beneath the feet of the newcomers, as if the world itself was being torn open to unleash them.

"Hey! What do you think you’re doing? How dare you try to kill my son at my doorstep?!"

The elder’s voice was booming, steady, and powerful-nothing like what one might expect from a man in the final years of his life.

There was authority in that tone, years of command and experience, as if he once had stood on battlefields and shouted orders through smoke and fire.

Then, without hesitation, this fierce-looking old man leapt high into the air.

His movement was fluid, shockingly agile.

He then, with a swift movement of his hand, flung a blazing fireball in Cassel’s direction.

The flames spiralled through the air and illuminated the dust beneath them, flickering shadows across the shattered fence and my quaking arms.

"..."

Damn it.

What is wrong with these idiots?

Attack relentlessly. Can’t they see we have a child with us?

Who supported their child?

We were literally holding their terrified little girl, and they still attacked like rabid beasts.

It was as if their common sense had evaporated into thin air.

It was as if the old man heard my internal curses, for his eyes flashed when he finally glanced my way—perhaps noticing the little girl in my arms at last.

Surprise flickered across his weathered features, chased by shock and dawning horror.

When he saw that Cassel still hadn’t moved-still hadn’t dodged, blocked, or retaliated-the old man must have realized the fireball would strike us-and the child.

He sent the fireball harmlessly into the wall behind him with a quick kung fu twist and a backward flip that belied age itself.

The explosion of heat and sparks showered the area but harmed no one this time.

"You—you dare kidnap my granddaughter?! Return her this instant or—

Oh God.

what a disaster.

One misunderstanding after another heaped, cumulated, and turned into a perfect nightmare.

"Return my niece and let my brother go!"

Shouted a man who looked unmistakably like a soldier—how did I know? Well, wasn’t it obvious?

He wore a military uniform stiff with medals and insignias.

He stood tall, radiating authority, and judging from the badges gleaming on his chest, he clearly held some high rank. His expression was severe, sharp, full of righteous fury.

Just our luck... how did we end up offending high-ranking people the very moment we arrived at the base?

We won’t be thrown out for this... right? My stomach twisted at the thought.

Yet despite all my growing fear and worry, Cassel seemed completely unfazed. Completely untouched by the chaos unfolding around us.

He didn’t even put the man down.

In fact, I swear the guy was rising higher into the air.

Cassel was lifting him with his power, holding him suspended like some sort of helpless puppet.

"Kidnapping? Hah. If we hadn’t saved this child, your ’good’ brother here would’ve killed her with his powers moments ago."

The color drained from their faces—every one of them.

They stiffened, frozen mid-breath.

It looked like they knew something. Something they hadn’t mentioned. Something they feared.

In an instant, the old man’s face softened and the fierceness fled as he took a backward step, the hand at his back in a respectful gesture.

His aura shifted from aggressive to cautious, from threatening to controlled.

"Young man, if what you say is true-that you saved my granddaughter-then this old man sincerely thanks you. Now... could you return the child to us? She seems frightened."

Seeing the man’s stance shift, Cassel’s expression finally eased—at least a little.

Only a little.

He lowered me gently to the ground.

The instant my feet hit the dusty floor, releasing the child, the little bun wobbled on uneasy legs and darted into her grandfather’s outstretched arms.