[So like I said, there are thousands of ways to act—you can absolutely stick to your original plan.]
Then why bring up Lilia at all? Making it sound like I could actually help her or something.
[Can't you?]
You're seriously throwing me under the bus right now.
[The butterfly never stops flapping its wings. Your existence alone is already helping her, isn't it?]
[Now, look up.]
[Allen.]
Allen froze.
Something clicked inside him.
When he looked up slowly, Zenith and Rudeus were already watching him. Paul, too, had his gaze locked onto Allen—wearing an expression of shock, disbelief, confusion… and maybe even pain.
The air was thick with silent accusation, wrapping the so-called "bystander" in an invisible noose.
Allen's mouth hung open slightly. He met their eyes helplessly.
It was painfully clear: his hasty retreat from the table, his complicated and conflicted expression, the way he'd seemed almost… prepared—had instantly made him the prime suspect in a situation he wasn't even part of. A figure completely absent from the original story.
And he didn't even look like a kid anymore. In this precocious world, Allen—already nearing ten—had matured under a swordsman's training. His aura-enhanced physique gave him the build and presence of someone older.
And then there was that incident—the awkward tension between him and Mrs. Eto, as Rudeus once noticed.
[I told you, didn't I? The current situation is…]
Allen, dazed, answered the system aloud without thinking.
"…So the current situation is—I'm the dad now?"
Silence fell over the room.
Utter, perfect silence.
Lilia, who had been staring at the floor, finally sensed something off. She looked up, puzzled, and followed everyone's gaze to where Allen stood by the wall, frantically trying to cover his mouth.
Their eyes met.
The only sound in the room was the flickering of the candle flames.
[An extraordinary reversal!]
[In this critical moment, our host's charisma decisively defused the original timeline's crisis, sparing Paul from getting slapped into next week and curled up on the floor like a disgraced mutt.]
[You're Paul's savior!]
Shut up!!!
Allen stared at Lilia's confused and vacant expression, brain a complete blank.
What the hell is this mess?!
Then, in his stunned peripheral vision, Zenith stood up.
She was still looking at Allen, dazed. Then she gave a weary little smile.
"…Allen. I didn't expect you to be the first to speak up."
Every hair on Allen's body stood on end. He shot a look at Paul—who was still gawking, his face twisted into utter confusion and disbelief.
And then Zenith moved.
With a soft sigh, she stood.
The sound of her chair scraping the floor was jarringly loud in the tense atmosphere.
Then—
SMACK!
A crisp, echoing slap rang out.
She didn't even look at Paul when she struck him. Just turned and lashed out.
Paul held his face in stunned silence, eyes snapping toward Zenith.
She met his gaze coldly.
"Paul. How long do you plan to hide behind the kids? Do you really not even have the courage to take responsibility? How long are you going to pretend Allen's completely nonsensical confession is worth believing?"
Paul stared at her in a daze. Finally, his mind began to return.
Allen couldn't possibly be involved with Lilia. What the hell am I thinking? Have I really gotten so panicked I forgot what it means to be a man?
His shoulders slumped. He reached up to cradle his head, ready to admit everything.
But then Zenith's voice floated back—soft, weightless, like a balloon drifting through the air.
"…Forget it. To you, the promises you made to me were just empty words."
With that, she turned and headed for the stairs.
The door slammed shut behind her.
Only then did Rudeus come back to himself.
Allen's sudden appearance had knocked the whole emotional trajectory off-course. Before Rudeus had a chance to intervene, Zenith had already left.
Lilia bowed her head again, recognizing that Allen's words had only been a panicked, clumsy attempt to deflect. But Zenith's retreat left her visibly shaken.
She'd been bracing herself for Zenith's anger—for screaming, a slap, or immediate eviction.
But not… that.
Zenith just left. Why?
Paul slammed his head down on the table, fingers clawing his hair, looking as if the sky itself had collapsed.
Allen, having spectacularly failed at playing dad, could only stare in stunned silence.
This wasn't how the original storyline went at all!
Back then, Zenith had gotten furious, but Paul's pathetic groveling led her to call a family meeting, which gave Rudeus the chance to defend Lilia and mediate.
But now?
Zenith just walked out?
What was going on?
Allen ran the events over in his head, again and again, until one answer slowly emerged.
It was me. I drew all the suspicion to myself. Paul was too shocked to admit anything right away. And because I spoke first—blurted something so illogical—then stared right at Paul…
Zenith immediately concluded that the only one who could actually be responsible was her husband.
Paul hadn't even owned up to anything yet.
And Zenith?
She was already disappointed.
In the original story, she'd been pushed to the brink—angry, desperate, suffocating with emotion. One wrong word, and she could've kicked Lilia out or even stormed off herself.
And judging from just now… it was the latter.
She might already be upstairs packing her things.
We've completely gone off script.
Allen spun toward Rudeus and spoke in a rapid-fire whisper.
"Rudeus, do something—Zenith's not okay right now!"
Rudeus blinked, hesitating, then glanced at the ashen-faced Lilia.
"…The only solution right now is to dump the blame entirely on Father. That way, maybe we can convince Mother to let Lilia stay."
Allen's face darkened with fury. He kicked Rudeus right off his chair, yanked him up by the collar, and growled each word.
"Are you insane?! If you do that, she'll end up feeling like she's the extra one in this house! Are you seriously still playing house right now? 'Let's all get along'? You'd have her carry all the weight?! Let her walk away on her own?!"
It was the first time Rudeus had ever seen Allen this forceful. He shrank back slightly.
"So what—kick Lilia out instead? She's pregnant! She'll die out there! It's freezing! Wait—Allen, aren't you the one good with pretty speeches? Think of something! How do we make sure Mother stays?!"
Lilia's eyes flicked to Paul, who was still clutching his head like a broken man. Her expression dimmed. She opened her mouth, voice trembling but firm.
"I'm the one who should leave. This is my punishment… Please, just—"
"Lilia, maybe just calm—"
"Enough!!"
Allen's low shout silenced both of them.
He took a deep breath and glanced up the staircase. Thoughts raced through his mind.
In the original story, Zenith agreed to forgive Lilia because she saw how much Rudeus valued family. That's what moved her…
No—wrong. The real reason was the family's attitude.
She's someone who deeply values her home. She couldn't bear to see Rudeus, who loved their family so much, suffer. That's why she stayed.
Allen's eyes shifted to Paul, who looked like the world was ending.
Paul's terrified too—because he senses the family might be falling apart. He's not thinking straight at all. Total panic mode.
If it's all about valuing family… then the best way forward is—
Allen's eyes narrowed, the glint of a plan sparking behind them. He spoke rapidly.
"Rudeus, do you really think your mother's ready to throw this entire life away? Or that she doesn't understand the kind of man her husband is?"
Paul jolted upright, staring in shock.
Rudeus fell quiet, sensing Allen had something more to say.
And indeed, Allen didn't wait for a reply—he pressed on, voice sharp and fast.
"You know she's not. And I get why you tried to protect Lilia. You didn't want a pregnant woman thrown out into the snow. So you found someone to blame—Paul, or me, whatever. Just give Zenith a target and hope she drops it, right?"
Rudeus blinked. That… was exactly what he'd thought.
Allen met his gaze firmly.
"Your plan might've worked. But you completely ignored your mother's feelings. You were about to force a choice on her, just to make things smoother. Rudeus—ask yourself, is that right?"
Rudeus faltered.
"I'll tell you right now—it's not. The one who's wrong is Paul. Not Zenith. She's the victim here. So who gave you the right to decide anything for her?!"
Paul opened his mouth to protest, but Allen slammed a hand on the table—startling him into silence. Even Lilia looked up, lifeless eyes locking onto Allen's.
Allen swept his gaze across the three of them.
"Paul's worried about the family falling apart. Rudeus doesn't want Lilia to get kicked out. And Lilia—she just wants to punish herself and make it all go away."
"You're all thinking about yourselves. Not one of you is asking what Zenith wants. Don't you see how selfish that is?"
All three of them froze.
Allen raised a hand, fingers slowly folding down.
"There are five things you need to do right now."
"One: Stop thinking about yourselves. Think about this from Zenith's point of view."
"Two: Go upstairs. Kneel. Apologize. Beg her to give you a chance to talk."
"Three: Tell her how you feel about this family. What kind of home you want. Be honest."
"Four: Ask for forgiveness. Make your promises for the future."
As Paul and Lilia slowly came back to themselves, Allen dropped the fifth finger. Then turned to Rudeus.
"And five—put the decision in her hands. Let Zenith choose what happens next. Not you. Not me. Not Paul. That's the respect she deserves."
"Got it? The only thing that'll fix this is making her feel like this home values her. Like she's truly loved. That's your one and only chance. Otherwise, all you're doing is forcing a victim to swallow her pain alone. So I'll ask one last time—who the hell actually did something wrong here?!"
Allen's words came down like hammer blows. Then, expression hardening, he turned away from Paul and Lilia and stared straight into Rudeus's eyes.
That should do it. Make Zenith feel seen and respected. Shift the story back toward the original path—where the family's attitude moved her to forgive Lilia.
That's the optimal solution.
He raised a hand and pointed toward the stairs.
"Go. If you wait any longer, she'll be packed and gone."
Rudeus met his gaze—and suddenly smiled.
Allen's still the same as ever… always with the pretty speeches.
Then I guess it's my turn to play along.
Rudeus's face grew serious. He turned toward Paul, who was gasping and pale, and to Lilia, whose trembling fingers clutched her sleeve as though about to cry.
"I think Allen's right," Rudeus said softly. Then, in the most matter-of-fact voice he could manage, one still laced with childlike innocence:
"So… Father, Lilia."
"Shall we go?"