Chapter 4: Chapter 4

On Armageddon, while practice was incredibly important, the size of a user’s innate Divinity shells was even more important because the limited amount of divinity one had in his body was all one could work with. Did that mean that one’s innate mana core size wouldn’t matter as much because of the available mana in the atmosphere?

The bigger the cup, the more you can hold, right?

In my old world, even though my divinity shells weren’t that large, I had the system and with it, I was considered a prodigy at channeling and utilizing my divinity effectively to make up for my not-so-sufficiently large divinity shells. With the way I utilized every bit of my divinity, I was able to become the strongest of the lower eight domain fighters, earning the right to become a legendary god.

Now, if I could still practice the way the legendary gods used their divinity, but with mana that was both present inside the mana core and in the surrounding atmosphere, couldn’t I essentially double… no… triple the strength that I had before? That will be great.

While the practice was crucial on Armageddon, the size of a user's intrinsic Divinity shells was even more crucial because there was only so much divinity one could have in his body. Did that imply that, given the amount of mana present in the environment, one's natural mana core size wouldn't matter as much?

You can hold more in a larger cup, right?

It appears that I should test that right a

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Ciel POV

When I was younger, as my mother combed my long, white hair, I inquired, "Mother, what makes one a good mother?"

My lovely mother, who has silver hair, fair skin, and blue eyes, grinned at me and said, "My darling, a mother is someone who, no matter what the child may be, cares for and shields them. Okay? whether the child is a male or a girl, healthy or abnormal."

"Yes mother, Mother, I want to be just like you."

"Yes, my baby girl"

My mother grinned, perking me up in the head, and said, "Awww, my little princess wants to be just like me."

"Please, don't be like your foolish father."

We both laughed out loud, "Hahaha."

I'm not just saying this because I'm a good mother; Logan had to be the cutest baby.

No.

He seemed at times nearly clever with his scruffy tiny spike of shining white hair and carefree eyes that almost exude bright blue.

No, as I have stated, I am not a great mother. I intend to be a rigorous and fair mother. I can't count on my husband to instill some sense in lovely Logan. He tried to teach my baby to fight when he was barely crawling, for God's sake.

I was so sad and frightened that Logan wouldn't be able to walk, talk, or be conscious for a long time at the age of two that we went to all the mages, doctors, and healers but nothing could be done, I was so irritated at their standard response that I murdered some and damaged some, so frustrating.

But fortunately, my husband is associated with Alucard, the ruler of the clandestine high elf kingdom, who came to evaluate Logan and gave us the order to give him our mana. To strengthen his body, Logan could finally crawl, walk, and use some words to communicate his needs after five years, which is slower than all the other kids.

If I left this little rascal alone, I know he would develop into someone exactly like his father. I was so happy when he first started crawling that I was on the verge of crying, but I had no idea how difficult he would be when he was mobile.

When I was in solitary training for a while, I heard that he tried to get into the library several times, but the maids always caught him because his father asked that he be watched over 24 hours a day, seven days a week owing to his delicate health. I knew in my heart that Logan would not give up.

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The librarian claimed that Logan consistently chooses books about magic. We made care to buy him plenty of stuffed toys and cuddly animals to play with, but he ultimately chooses magic. That least that was in direct opposition to his father, given that Klaus nearly seems to drift away from texts longer than the weekly and monthly newspaper

Looking at how excited he got when we went out to Eusilesh when I decided to go shopping for food once every month, instead of sending maids

I didn't lie when I said I wasn't a good mother. He needs to know about the outside world and the mansion's fresh cuisine. Yeah, that's all.

My son appeared to have a wide range of interests. I can't stop watching his head, which seems so out of proportion to his small, weak frame, turning left and right as he tries to take it all in. He seems especially interested in his father's methods.

Back in the day, Klaus was a very Carefree Knight. It was a fairly quick ascent to become an A-class knight by the age of twenty-eight. The lowest level, the E-class, requires participation in training to save the lives of regular, uneducated, uninformed youths.

In terms of the higher ranks, I've only ever encountered a few SS-class knights in my years as an SS+ knight, and, assuming they exist, I've never encountered an SSS-class knight.

Being the second-best female knight in the city of Eusilesh—what we simply referred to as the Best Knight—meant that I had to battle to survive and grow stronger. Even though I come from a wealthy family, I still feel the need to improve my strength because no matter how powerful you are, there will always be someone stronger than you.

 

As a magic knight, I once received a task to instruct and train the younger generations in swordsmanship and the use of aura. I only had to show them how to create an aura and get them in shape; however, before the test could start, a young student fell flat on his back and was unable to stand; he claimed that I was "too cruel" He said he asked to be coached by me because he thought I was carefree, but he was wrong at the time.

Haha, slacker punks that aren't willing to put in the effort to achieve power. Klaus certainly gave the impression of being Carefree back then. His jaw absolutely dropped when he saw me training in my family's training facility hours before the banquet, and he simply stood there until his father called his name and he came to meet my father.

He disregarded his father's calls and drew nearer to me, hastily wiping away his saliva while trying to mutter, "... h.. hey......" What is your name? My name is Klaus. He blushed beet red with humiliation, and I just laughed.

We immediately clicked once he mustered up the guts to ask me out to dinner. Even now, when I see his drooping, bright Green eyes staring at me, I can't help but grin.

Logan ended up having both of our redeeming qualities, which makes him even cuter. Around one year when I have the time to change his diaper personally, you should come to see him. He would suddenly begin blushing and cover his face with his teeny small fingers for some apparent reason.

Could babies his age even get embarrassed?

The next significant event that made it into my baby journal—which, by the way, is only for educational purposes and not because I am an overly concerned mother—was when he finally uttered, "Mama," after five years of not even a murmur.

He said, Mama!

I instructed him to repeat the word "mama" several times to be sure I didn't misunderstand. Logan's refusal to stop saying "mama" caused Klaus to pout all day.

“dada.”

Haha, I won!

The remainder of the year passed happily as my son accompanied me wherever I went and frequently sat on a seat in the mansion training grounds outside to watch his father train with other novice and experienced knights. I'm delighted Klaus could eventually train because, throughout the first five years of Logan's undevelopment, he was unable to do either as he moved around asking for help from one location to another.

After those five years, Logan thankfully never fell ill, but I would frequently find him curled up on his butt, his eyes closed. I initially believed he was having problems going to the bathroom, but after the first few times I checked, it appeared that wasn't the case.

I had no idea what to make of that; how weird. After hearing stories of him sneaking away to the library, I realized that babies his age should be active and flittery. Instead, he appeared to spend a lot of time sitting still and meditating—something I never did when I was younger.

I was initially concerned, but even though it would occur a few times per day, it only lasted for a short while, and Logan would then act weirdly content. I want to eat him up because of the way he lifts his arms and looks down at me.

Not a loving mother, ahem. (Yeah, just like my mother, hahaha)

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