The Villainous Son Loves His Mother - Chapter 97

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Helga Ira Aster’s day began early.
The negative legacy left by her late husband, Damian, the previous head of House Aster, still weighed heavily on the duchal family.
In short, the problem was money.
Astonishingly, House Aster, one of the Twelve Great Houses, was in the dire situation of being indebted to noble families far and wide.
The rituals required to perform forbidden sorcery often demanded rare and expensive catalysts.
It went without saying that the primary requirement for obtaining such materials was money.

Helga glared at the thick ledgers in her study, tapping her temple with her fingers.

“Honestly, that man…”

Just thinking about her late husband made her stomach clench.
Though she had devised a repayment plan, clearing this debt while maintaining the Duchal House’s prestige was an arduous task.

“Phew…”

Helga squinted at the morning sun streaming through the window.
Today was a lecture day at the academy.
To be honest, this time away from the headache of managing finances was a small relief for her.

◆

Imperial Sanford Academy Lecture Hall.
As Helga stood at the podium, a tense atmosphere filled the entire classroom.
This was partly due to the fact that Helga was a disciple of Habakiri, the Empire’s Chief Mage, but even more so because of Hein’s presence.

Before Helga arrived, Hein had threatened the students.
Slowly surveying the room, Hein pierced each student with his cold, deep purple eyes as he spoke.

“I have one warning for you all.”

His voice was low and calm, yet it resonated clearly throughout every corner of the lecture hall.

“The lecture that will now commence is by my mother—Teacher Helga. Its value is so profound that your inferior, stunted intellects could never fully comprehend it.”

Hein paused briefly.

“Should anyone commit the folly of dozing off or whispering during this sacred time…”

“I cannot guarantee I will remain rational.”

“I am not asking anything extraordinary of you. Simply listen to the lecture with genuine attentiveness—that is all. Can you manage that? I have no desire to harm my classmates.”

No one dared to challenge Hein’s words, not even the most reckless among them.

◆

“Good afternoon, everyone. Today, I will demonstrate the effects of Magic Power through practical application.”

Helga intended to manipulate the potted plant before her, not only accelerating its growth but also infusing it with Magic Power to create a type of “familiar”.
To begin, it was necessary to deepen everyone’s understanding of familiars.

“Some of you already know the Familiar Art,”

Helga said, her gentle gaze sweeping across the classroom. She addressed a female student sitting by the window.

“Liliana, is that small blue bird watching us from outside your familiar?”

The girl blushed and nodded.

“Yes, Teacher. That’s Pipi. But how did you know it was my familiar?”

“I could tell by the quality of its mana. Now, tell me, how do you usually communicate with Pipi?”

Liliana hesitated, then answered timidly,

“Well… I gently channel my Magic Power to avoid upsetting Pipi… and then I ask.”

“An excellent answer,”

Helga said with a smile.

“That ‘ask’ is the very core of this art.”

Helga slowly paced the podium as she addressed her students.

“Magic Power isn’t merely a force. It’s also a medium for conveying the caster’s will and emotions to the target.”

“There are various ways to convey this. The quickest method is to bind the target’s will with Magic Power and force obedience. However, I believe the true essence of the Familiar Art lies in respecting the target’s will.”

Helga glanced down at the potted plant on her desk.

“It’s not about issuing commands, but about persuasion. By empathizing with the hearts of creatures without words and conveying your desire for cooperation, you can build a bond of trust that transcends species. That is the true form of this art.”

It wasn’t as simple as it sounded.
If you exerted too much force, you’d burn out the target’s spirit; too little, and their will would dissipate like mist.
This was a highly advanced art that demanded both precise control of the caster’s magic power and a deep empathy for the target.
The Eldenbloom Duchal House, Helga’s family, excelled in such techniques.

“The usual Familiar Arts—those that bind a target’s will—are ineffective against beings of advanced intelligence like ourselves. Our strong egos repel external interference. Moreover, even if you were to force a creature into servitude, it would only lend you the bare minimum of power. However…”

Helga paused, her gaze falling to the potted plant, before continuing.

“If you can persuade the target, the range of subjects you can influence expands dramatically, and your Familiars will lend you far greater power. Now, let’s summon the Flower Spirit.”

With that, Helga began channeling her magic power into the potted plant.

A “Flower Spirit” isn’t a high-ranking entity with a specific name.
It’s the humble, pure “will” inherent in plants themselves—a fleeting, dreamlike manifestation that occasionally appears in plants nurtured with love.

Their forms vary wildly. Sometimes they manifest as tiny green humanoids with no eyes, mouths, or noses, simply dancing with delight.
Other times, they take the form of beautiful maidens with butterfly wings, captivating all who behold them.
The latter form is often mistaken for high-ranking “Fairies,” but their essence is incomparably lower.
They neither harm nor grant special benefits to humans.
They merely appear and vanish—a phenomenon, nothing more.

Yet Helga intended to make a “request” of this Flower Spirit.
Nothing grand—simply to deliver the fragrant scent of the flowers to her students.
Of course, Flower Spirits don’t usually grant such requests, but Helga was confident in her abilities.

◆

As Helga’s Magic Power flowed into the potted plant, a vibrant green sprout emerged from the soil.
The sprout rapidly grew, soon blossoming into a delicate, single flower.
The students gasped in awe.

But their astonishment quickly turned to confusion.
The newly bloomed flower slowly closed its petals, reverting to its bud form.
A failure? some wondered.
Helga herself was inwardly perplexed.

But then—the bud began to emit a faint inner glow, slowly reopening.
And then…

“…Huh?”

Helga’s genuine surprise slipped out.

At the heart of the bud, a tiny figure, no larger than her thumb, stirred.
It unfurled transparent, butterfly-like wings and fluttered into the air.

“A… a Fairy?”

“No, it’s a Flower Spirit, right…?”

A voice echoed through the room. But—

“It’s likely a Fairy… isn’t it? This dense Magic Power isn’t that of a Flower Spirit.”

“Ooh, a Fairy! It’s a Fairy Larva, right? Amazing, Hein’s mom…”

Azel recognized it through experience, while Esmeralda deduced it through observation.

Sprinkling particles of light, the newly born Fairy fluttered around the classroom.
The students stared, mouths agape, mesmerized by the fantastical sight.
The Fairy giggled mischievously, paused at the tip of one student’s nose, then darted away again.
Finally, it circled Helga once before gracefully soaring out through the open window into the world beyond.

Helga momentarily faltered, but—
She cleared her throat and calmly stated, as if it had all been part of her plan:

“I asked the child to bring more colorful flowers to the Empire.”

Her words shattered the silence.

“Amazing…!”

“Could it be… a fairy?!”

The classroom erupted in a murmur of awe and excitement.

Esmeralda trembled inwardly.

(Impossible.)

She knew of fairies, of course.
But they were capricious spirits of nature, rarely born from ancient trees or ancient springs after centuries of slumber.
Beings formed when the Magic Power that permeated the natural world condensed over unimaginable eons, eventually gaining consciousness.

Such fairies could mature into spirits, and in some regions, these spirits were even revered as gods.
Fairies rarely revealed themselves to humans, and the chance of one understanding human will was less than one in ten thousand.

“Teacher Helga! That was a magnificent lecture!”

“You truly are the Empire’s greatest mage, Teacher!”

Students rushed to Helga, showering her with praise.
Caught in the whirlwind of enthusiasm, Helga could only respond with a strained smile, maintaining her elegant composure.