The Villainous Son Loves His Mother - Chapter 31

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“Hmm, if that’s all, you could have just sent one of your familiars.”

Said the white-haired, white-bearded old man—Habakiri, the Court Mage-General.

“I wanted to meet you in person,” Helga replied.

Habakiri stroked his beard with a sigh and nodded.

“You haven’t changed a bit since the old days. You’re still too meticulous.”

Habakiri had been the Academy Headmaster when Helga was a student. He had also taught the Special Class, which instructed magic to the children of nobles.
The Special Class no longer existed. When Habakiri retired a few years ago due to his age, no suitable successor could be found. There was no one else who could fearlessly instruct the children of high-ranking nobles while also being a high-ranking noble himself and an exceptional mage.

“It brings back memories. Your Special Class was quite rigorous.”

“You can’t be soft on them. They’re the pampered sons and daughters of high-ranking nobles. Spoil them, and they’ll be ruined.”

Habakiri said this as he sipped his tea from the desk.
Helga felt a wave of nostalgia at the familiar gesture, unchanged since his days as Academy Headmaster.

“So, you’ve come to me for advice. What is it you wish to ask?”

“I’d like your opinion on the assassination attempts,”

Helga said, straightening her posture. Even now, in Habakiri’s presence, the same nervous tension she’d felt as a student resurfaced.

“Recently, the number of assassination attempts on House Aster has been increasing. So far, all have failed…”

She paused, studying Habakiri’s expression.

“But there’s no guarantee of continued safety. As a former teacher, you might know which noble houses could be involved.”

Habakiri shook his head slowly, taking out his pipe.

“I don’t know. And even if I did, I’m not sure I’d tell you.”

“That’s…”

“Above all else, the Twelve Noble Houses demand ‘power’,”

Habakiri continued, exhaling smoke.

“If you can’t even repel human assassins, you’re unfit to be one of them. You understand that much, don’t you?”

Helga was speechless.

“If you’re afraid, fleeing is an option.”

Habakiri said, toying with his pipe.

“But you can’t take your son with you. You could try to force it, but…”

He paused, his sharp gaze piercing Helga.

“In that case, the entire Guynes Empire would consider you enemies.”

“Even you, Master?”

Habakiri fell silent for a moment before slowly opening his mouth.

“Let’s refrain from stating it explicitly here.”

Habakiri said, blowing a puff of smoke from his pipe toward Helga.
The pale blue smoke coiled like a serpent, drifting behind Helga.

“Ugh!”

A voice suddenly came from behind.
Turning around, they saw Feri, the head servant of Duke Aster’s House, standing there.

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“Helga’s bodyguard, perhaps? Impressive concealment skills. But I’m not impressed. Unauthorized entry into the Imperial City is strictly forbidden.”

“So what will you do, old man?”

Feri’s voice carried a hint of provocation.
The faint smile on her tanned face exuded confidence.
Yet Feri wasn’t as composed as she appeared.

“Well, I guess I can do whatever I want.”

Feri showed no sign of flinching at Habakiri’s words.
But she didn’t dismiss the old man’s words as mere bluff.
For a moment, Helga and Feri felt as if the weight of their bodies had doubled.
A pressure befitting the Kaines Empire’s highest-ranking mage radiated from Habakiri. This intangible force pressed down on them with palpable weight.

“But it feels like just a few bones might break. Just a few,”

His expression held a mixture of paternal affection for the younger ones and something akin to the predatory glint of a dangerous beast.

“Master,”

Helga interjected, trying to mediate.

“I was the one who asked her to protect me.”

Of course, it was a lie.
But Habakiri surely knew that.
It was merely a convenient way to ease the tension in the room.

“N-no, that’s not true!”

What surprised Helga was Feri’s reaction.
She had never seen the usually composed Feri so flustered.
Her pointed ears trembled, and her tan cheeks flushed crimson.
Amused by her discomposure, Helga couldn’t help but smile faintly.

“Don’t worry, Feri. The teacher is soft on me.”

Habakiri shook his head in exasperation, but didn’t deny her words. Instead, a soft, almost nostalgic expression crossed his face.
Helga and Feri felt the tense atmosphere gradually easing.

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“Hmm, for someone as thoughtful as you, that’s quite… well…”

Habakiri tilted his head like a withered tree branch as he listened to Helga’s explanation.
There was another reason Helga had come to see him.

“I’m concerned. If I remain weak, I’ll become a burden on both House Aster and on Hein.”

Her voice was quiet but resolute.

“Of course, Feri and the others try to protect me. But nothing is absolute. That’s why I want power—the simple ability to remove obstacles. The fact that assassins are being sent after me at all is proof that, as a noble, I’m considered weak.”

What was expected of high-ranking nobles in the Empire was power. Not political or financial strength, but something far more primal. And in that sense, as the acting head of House Aster, perhaps she truly was being underestimated.

“If I become strong, some of our current concerns might disappear. So please, I humbly ask you—Habakiri the Omnimagus, the Empire’s greatest wizard—to train me.”

Feri looked as if she wanted to say something, but she kept her mouth shut.
Habakiri, meanwhile, was inwardly surprised. The Helga he knew possessed exceptional magical talent, but her temperament was overly gentle. She feared danger, change, and in some ways could even be described as timid. True to the teachings of House Eldenbloom, she was a peace-loving soul.
But the Helga before him now was different. For a fleeting moment, Habakiri hallucinated a lioness with glowing eyes standing behind her.