The first thing I do is breathe.
Not because I'm tired. Not because I'm overwhelmed. But because if I don't take that one second to steady myself, I might actually do something excessive—and right now, excessive is very easy.
The air is heavy. Not just dense with mana, but wrong. It presses against the skin in a way that makes every instinct scream that this place does not belong to the same world we came from.
I adjust my grip slightly, holding Hikari securely in one arm while Ruri stays close on the other side. Karin is perched on my shoulders, her hands gripping my head tighter than usual—not playful, not casual, but desperate in a way she's trying to hide.
"…Alright," I mutter under my breath, forcing my thoughts into order. "Let's not make this worse than it already is."
My eyes sweep the surroundings, taking everything in at once instead of in fragments, because breaking it down right now would only waste time I don't have. And what I see—what I immediately understand—makes the situation worse in a way that isn't dramatic, just inevitable.
There are people...
Too many people.
Civilians scattered across the area in varying states of panic, some frozen in place like their bodies haven't caught up to reality yet, others crying openly, and a few already on the verge of collapsing under pressure they don't even understand.
Mixed in with them are hunters, but not the kind that make a difference here—no structure, no coordination, just scattered individuals trying to look like they know what they're doing while their mana signatures tell me otherwise.
I narrow my eyes slightly and let my mana perception do the rest, filtering through them in a single pass instead of checking one by one. It doesn't take long to get a read.
"…E to C-rank," I conclude quietly, more to myself than anyone else, and the moment that thought settles, the outcome becomes obvious.
This isn't a situation they can survive—not as they are, not in a place like this. If something strong appears—and it will, because places like this don't stay quiet—then they won't even have time to understand what killed them. It'll just happen, fast and absolute.
I exhale slowly, but it doesn't calm anything. It just confirms what I already know.
"…Of course," I mutter under my breath. "Of course this is how it goes."
Hikari shifts in my arms, and I feel it before I look—her grip tightening, her small fingers pressing into my clothes as if that alone could anchor her somewhere safe.
"Papa…" she whispers, her voice small and trembling in a way that doesn't try to hide anything. "Hikari is scared…"
That lands harder than anything else I've processed so far. Not the environment. Not the crowd. Not even the situation itself.
I glance down, and my chest tightens just slightly at the sight of her actually shaking—not subtle, not controlled, not the kind of fear someone tries to hide. Just real, immediate fear.
Ruri doesn't say anything, but she doesn't need to. I can feel it in the way she holds onto me, in the slight tension in her arms, in how her breathing isn't quite steady even though she's clearly trying to keep it that way. She's enduring it, not escaping it.
And Karin—
"…Don't be scared," she says, trying to sound firm, trying to sound like herself. "I'll protect you."
If I wasn't paying attention, I might've believed it. But her voice wavers just enough, her hands cold where they grip me, her balance just slightly off as she holds on tighter than usual. She's forcing it. She's scared too.
…Yeah.
That's enough.
Something shifts inside me, not explosively, not dramatically, but with a kind of clarity that leaves no room for hesitation. The irritation I felt earlier sharpens into something heavier, something colder, something that doesn't need to announce itself to exist.
"…I see," I murmur quietly, more to myself than anyone else, as the feeling settles into place. It's been a while since I've felt this clearly—annoyance turning into something more defined, more focused.
Anger.
Not at them. Never at them.
But at this. At whoever caused this. At whatever thought it was acceptable to drag them—drag them—into something like this without warning, without reason, without even the decency of making it survivable.
I take a slow breath and force it down before it can turn into something unnecessary. If I get exposed, I get exposed. If something breaks, it breaks. None of that matters right now.
Right now, there's only one priority, and it's so simple it almost feels insulting.
Keep them safe.
Everything else comes after.
I lower my gaze toward them, deliberately softening my expression despite the pressure building underneath it, and reach out to ruffle their heads one by one—slower this time, more deliberate, making sure they actually feel it.
"…Hey," I say quietly, steady enough that it cuts through their fear without raising my voice. "Look at me."
They do. All three of them. Eyes wide, uncertain, but still trusting in a way that doesn't hesitate.
"…Don't worry," I continue, keeping my tone calm, controlled, certain. "Papa's here. Nothing's going to happen to you."
There's a pause—not long, but enough.
Then Karin breaks first.
"…Papa…"
Her voice cracks, and before she can stop herself, she leans forward and hugs me tightly, her small body trembling against me in a way she doesn't even try to hide anymore.
"I'm scared…"
That's all it takes. Hikari clings harder, Ruri leans closer, and just like that they start crying—not loudly, not dramatically, but enough that it settles something inside me completely.
Enough to tighten my chest.
Enough to turn irritation into something colder.
"…Yeah," I murmur quietly.
That settles it.
I carefully lower all three of them onto the ground, making sure they're steady before letting go. They don't move far—instinctively staying close, their presence pressing against me like they already understand they shouldn't separate.
Good.
I step forward slightly, placing myself between them and everything else with a deliberate shift of weight, the kind that doesn't look like much from the outside but sets a clear boundary all the same.
"Stay close behind me," I add quietly, just loud enough for the three of them to hear without drawing attention. "Don't wander. Not even a step."
The difference in position is small, almost negligible, but it's enough to establish a line—one that nothing gets to cross without going through me first.
My gaze drifts once more toward the crowd in the distance, taking in the scene as a whole rather than in pieces. One of the hunters is trying to shout instructions, voice cracking mid-sentence.
"Form up—just—stay together!" he calls, but no one really listens, and the sound dissolves into the noise.
Panic spreads unevenly, like a fire that hasn't decided where to settle yet. Some people are shouting, others are frozen, and the hunters—if they can even be called that in this situation—are trying to organize something that has no structure to begin with.
No formation.
No leadership.
No control.
"…They're going to die like that," I mutter under my breath, the conclusion arriving as naturally as breathing.
Karin shifts slightly above me. "Papa… are they okay?" she asks, trying to sound steady.
"Not if they keep doing that," I answer, keeping it blunt but not harsh.
It's not even pessimistic. Just accurate.
For a brief second, I consider stepping in—imposing order, forcing structure, stabilizing the situation enough to give them a chance. It would take effort, but not much. Not for me.
But I don't move.
Not yet.
Because my priority isn't out there. "Papa…" Hikari's voice comes again, softer this time. "We're not going to leave you, right?" I glance back briefly. "You're not leaving me, and I'm not leaving you," I reply. "That's the deal."
It's behind me.
I raise my hand slightly, the motion subtle enough that no one nearby pays attention, and let the spells form without incantation or delay.
I cast.
Silently.
Effortlessly.
Light Barrier manifests first, not as a visible wall but as a thin, refined layer of protection that settles over the three of them like a second skin, stabilizing and reinforcing without restricting movement.
"You might feel something light around you," I tell them as it forms. "That's normal. It means you're safe." It pulses faintly, tuned to their mana signatures so precisely that it feels natural rather than imposed.
Purifying Light follows, spreading outward in a controlled radius that cleanses the immediate area, stripping away the ambient corruption in the air and ensuring that what they breathe doesn't slowly harm them over time.
Ruri watches the faint shimmer, eyes focused. "It's warm," she says quietly.
"Good," I answer. "That means it's working." It's subtle, but necessary.
Elemental Buffs layer in next, woven carefully into their bodies to support them against the pressure of this place—temperature regulation, impact resistance, internal stabilization—nothing flashy, everything functional.
Karin tilts her head slightly. "I feel… lighter," she says.
"That's the point," I reply. "Stay that way."
I don't stop there.
Void Field expands just enough to suppress external interference, distorting any hostile influence before it can reach them.
Cyclone Field forms the outermost layer, a responsive perimeter that reacts automatically to incoming threats, deflecting or slowing anything that moves too fast or too aggressively.
Layer after layer, each one placed with intent rather than excess.
Stacked.
Controlled.
Precise.
Perfect.
No wasted mana.
No unnecessary flare.
Just protection.
Absolute.
I lower my hand slowly, the spells settling into place as if they've always been there, then turn back to them and crouch slightly so I'm at their level instead of looking down from above.
"Check me," I add quietly. "Any pain? Trouble breathing? Dizzy?"
"…Alright," I say, easing my tone just enough to cut through the lingering fear without making it sound forced. "How about this?"
They look at me immediately.
Hikari shakes her head. "No… just a little scared," she admits. Karin exhales.
"I'm okay," she says.
Ruri nods once, composed despite everything. "I'm fine, Papa."
Still scared.
Still shaken.
But listening.
"…Want to see Papa deal with the bad guys?"
There's hesitation—small, fragile, but there.
Then, one by one, they nod.
Not confidently.
Not boldly.
But trustingly.
Always trustingly.
…Yeah.
That's more than enough.
I stand up slowly, the shift in posture subtle but final. "Stay inside the wind line," I remind them, nodding toward the invisible boundary of the Cyclone Field. "If anything gets close, it won't reach you."
And this time—
I don't hold back.
"…No one is allowed to threaten my daughters," I say quietly, the words carrying more weight than volume ever could.
The air responds.
Not violently.
Not explosively.
But undeniably.
My mana spreads outward in a controlled expansion, pressing against the environment like a quiet declaration of dominance, not chaotic, not reckless—just absolute.
A nearby hunter flinches, glancing around. "Did you feel that?" he asks no one in particular.
Another answers, voice tight, "Something just… changed."
The faint gold in my eyes fades without resistance, replaced by something deeper, something colder.
Blue.
Arcane energy hums beneath the surface, restrained only because I choose to restrain it, not because it needs to be.
I roll my shoulders slightly, the motion casual, almost lazy, followed by a quiet crack of my neck as tension settles into something usable.
"…Alright," I mutter, more to myself than anything else.
Then I look ahead.
At whatever is coming.
At whatever caused this.
At whatever thought this was acceptable.
"…You picked the wrong day."
A slow breath leaves me, steady and controlled, carrying the last trace of restraint with it.
"…Bring it on."
I didn't rush forward.
Not because I can't—but because there's no reason to.
Everything in front of me is already slower than I am, weaker than I am, and most importantly, already decided.
Still, I take a step.
Just one.
And that's enough to make the difference clear.
The moment my mana spreads, the entire space reacts—not violently, not explosively, but in a suffocating, oppressive way that makes even the air feel heavier. The monsters closest to us falter mid-motion, their bodies trembling as if something unseen has wrapped around them and tightened all at once.
Behind me, I feel movement.
"Papa…" Hikari's voice is still small, but there's less fear in it now. "It's… heavy…"
"That's normal," I answer calmly, not turning yet. "Just stay close. I've got you."
Karin tightens her grip slightly from above. "You're doing something, aren't you?"
"…Obviously," I reply. "Try not to overthink it."
Ruri doesn't speak, but I can feel her attention—sharp, observant, taking everything in.
Good.
Stay like that.
The first wave rushes in.
Arch demons, void-touched beasts, malformed creatures stitched together by corrupted mana. No coordination, no strategy—just raw instinct and aggression.
I don't move to meet them.
I don't need to.
Mana Crush activates.
The pressure drops instantly, like gravity itself decided to increase tenfold. The front line collapses without resistance, bodies slamming into the ground as their own mana betrays them, crushing them from within.
"…Stay behind me," I add, more out of habit than necessity.
Hikari lets out a small gasp. "They fell…"
"They stopped," I correct. "There's a difference."
I raise my hand slightly.
Arcane energy gathers—compressed, refined, controlled to the exact output I need.
Arcane Blast.
No explosion.
No sound worth mentioning.
Just absence.
Everything in front of me disappears like it was never there to begin with.
"…Papa…" Hikari whispers.
"…Yeah?"
"…You're really strong…"
I pause for half a second.
"…I know," I answer simply.
More monsters surge from the sides, faster this time, reacting to the sudden loss of their front line. Their movements are sharper, more aggressive, but still nowhere near enough.
I shift my weight slightly—not even a full step.
Spatial Lock.
The space around them freezes.
Not visually.
But functionally.
They stop mid-motion, suspended in positions they can't escape, their bodies refusing to respond to their own commands.
Arcane Chains follow instantly, wrapping around them with precise timing, suppressing whatever resistance they might have managed.
"…Papa didn't move," Ruri says quietly, her voice filled with something closer to awe than fear now.
"…I did," I reply. "You just didn't see it."
Thunder Strike descends.
Clean.
Instant.
Each target is erased in sequence before sound can properly form, leaving behind nothing but empty space and fading mana residue.
Karin lets out a short laugh. "That was cool!"
"…Don't get used to it," I mutter.
"Too late," she shoots back.
I ignore that.
The next wave arrives.
Larger.
More numerous.
This time, I don't stop at control.
I expand.
Void Field spreads outward, suppressing everything within its range, dulling their movements and disrupting their mana flow. At the same time, Chain Lightning arcs through the crowd, striking multiple targets in a controlled pattern that avoids unnecessary destruction.
Wind Cutter follows, slicing cleanly through whatever remains, each strike placed with surgical precision rather than force.
Behind me—
Laughter.
"…Papa is amazing!" Hikari cheers, her earlier fear completely gone.
"Of course he is," Karin adds proudly. "He's my Papa."
I exhale slowly, something in my chest easing just slightly.
"…Yeah," I mutter. "That sounds about right."
I glance back briefly.
They're smiling.
Watching.
Excited.
…Alright.
If they're going to watch—
Then I might as well make it worth watching.
"…Stay right there," I tell them, my tone shifting just slightly. "And don't try anything."
"Like what?" Karin asks immediately.
"…Anything."
"…Got it."
I turn forward again.
This time, I don't just react.
I take control.
Arcane Manipulation reshapes the battlefield itself, bending raw mana into whatever form I need. Ice forms beneath advancing monsters, locking their movement before they can even react. Gravity Press slams heavier creatures into the ground, pinning them in place with crushing force.
Fire ignites—but contained and controlled, burning only what I allow it to burn, never spreading beyond its intended range, never touching anything I haven't already decided to erase. The heat is precise, calculated, just enough to eliminate without turning the entire place into unnecessary chaos.
Everything flows together in a way that feels almost natural at this point, like I'm not even thinking about it anymore. The mana responds before I consciously shape it, the elements aligning with intent rather than effort, and the battlefield itself bending quietly under control.
Seamless, efficient, effortless—not because it's easy, but because it's familiar.
"Papa… can I fight too?" Karin asks again, her voice steadier now, curiosity overtaking whatever fear was left.
I don't even look back when I answer. "No."
"…Why?" she presses, clearly unsatisfied.
"Because I don't feel like rebuilding the world today," I reply flatly, keeping my tone casual as another creature dissolves before it can even get close.
There's a pause behind me before she exhales.
"…Fair."
We keep moving forward without stopping, the rhythm of the fight settling into something predictable as we pass from one section of the dungeon to the next.
Floor after floor blends together, each wave of monsters collapsing faster than the last, until it stops feeling like a fight entirely and starts feeling like repetition.
Arcane Chains bind whatever gets too close, Mana Disruption cancels anything that even resembles a counterattack, and Thunder Strike finishes what's left before it becomes a problem.
It becomes routine.
"…This is getting boring," I mutter under my breath, more out of observation than complaint.
"Papa, you're smiling again," Ruri points out quietly, her voice calm but certain.
"…That's a problem," I reply, exhaling slightly as another wave disappears without resistance.
Hikari tilts her head from behind me. "Why?"
"Because it means I'm enjoying this," I answer, not bothering to hide it.
She blinks. "…Is that bad?"
"…Very," I say after a brief pause, though my tone doesn't quite match the seriousness of the statement.
Eventually, the space opens up.
The pressure shifts.
And we reach it.
A massive gate stands before us, towering over everything else in the area, its surface pulsing faintly with dense, concentrated mana that feels heavier than anything we've passed so far. It's quiet here—too quiet—like the dungeon itself is holding its breath.
I stop a few steps away from it, letting the silence settle naturally instead of breaking it immediately.
Then I glance back.
"…This is the boss," I say, keeping it simple.
Their reactions come almost instantly.
"Can you beat it, Papa?" Hikari asks, her earlier fear completely replaced by excitement.
Karin crosses her arms confidently, lifting her chin. "Of course he can."
Ruri doesn't say much, but she nods, her gaze steady and certain. "…Papa will win."
I look at them for a moment longer than necessary, taking in the way they're watching me now—not scared, not uncertain, but trusting without hesitation.
Then I sigh, running a hand lightly through my hair.
"…You're putting a lot of pressure on me," I say, though there's no real weight behind the complaint.
"You'll be fine," Karin replies immediately.
"…Yeah," I mutter. "I probably will."
I roll my shoulders slowly, feeling the tension settle into something usable, then crack my neck slightly as I step forward and place my hand against the surface of the gate. The mana behind it reacts faintly to the contact, like it recognizes something it shouldn't.
"…Alright," I say quietly, more to myself than anyone else.
Then I push.
The doors open slowly, heavy and deliberate, the sound echoing through the space as whatever waits beyond is revealed piece by piece.
I don't really care what it is.
Because right now, none of that matters.
I'm not a retired archmage trying to stay out of trouble.
I'm not the one who sealed the Demon King.
I'm not someone pretending to be weaker than I am.
Right now—
I'm just their dad.
And something in this place made them cry.
"…That's enough reason," I mutter under my breath.
And step forward.
*****
End of Chapter 17
Dad Status Report:
Name: Ren Arclight
Former Occupation: Retired Archmage / Former Demon King Slayer
Current Occupation: Full-Time Dragon Dad
Primary Objective:
Raise three daughters safely while preventing large-scale reality collapse.
Daughters Under Supervision:
*Karin – Fire / Chaos / Leadership (Unregulated)
*Ruri – Ice / Structure / Stability (Reliable)
*Hikari – Light / Unknown / Reality Risk (Smiling)
Today's Activities:
*Entered S-rank Abyssal outbreak during mall visit
*Stabilized three dependents under extreme mana pressure
*Provided emotional reassurance under crisis conditions
*Established multi-layer defensive system
*Engaged hostile entities (mass elimination)
*Maintained environmental control across multiple floors
*Allowed children to spectate controlled combat (questionable decision)
*Cleared all hostile waves without structural collapse
*Arrived at boss gate
New Developments:
*Children exposed to high-rank combat environment
*Fear response confirmed → attachment strengthened
*Combat observation increasing curiosity levels (dangerous)
*Ren no longer prioritizing concealment over safety
*Emotional trigger → increased output readiness
*"Dad Mode" overrides "Retirement Mode"
Threat Level (Environment):
S-Rank Abyssal Domain
Daughter Safety Status:
Stable (Under Absolute Protection)
Dad Stress Levels:
Rising
Contained
Irritated
Parenting Skill Growth:
0% to 9.7% (Combat Scenario Bonus Applied)
Current Dad Status:
Active
Engaged
Not Negotiable
Immediate Priorities:
*Eliminate boss threat
*Prevent environmental collapse
*Ensure zero harm to daughters
*Maintain emotional stability post-combat
Operational Assessment:
Mission Type: Protection + Annihilation
Difficulty: Irrelevant
Emotional Status:
Calm - Protective - Dangerous
Future Outlook:
Escalation Guaranteed
Dad Personal Statement:
"They cried."
Reality's Response:
"Everything dies."