"Yasolt?" Lucian asked, his face etched with shock.
"Yeah. During my time as an adventurer, I did everything I could to become stronger. That's when I met him, in a military camp during my time in the Aether-Wing Kingdom," Galen said.
Lucian's mind raced. He was stunned and couldn't shake the thought that the diary he had read might have belonged to his father. But he needed confirmation, so he asked hesitantly, "Dad, did you leave the camp early?"
Galen seemed taken aback by the sudden question, a hint of reluctance crossing his face. Still, he answered, "It's shameful for me to admit, but yes. I left the camp early. I only stayed there for four months. After that, I left." A faint smile crept back onto his face as he added, "But I didn't leave alone. With me was a friend Yasolt."
Lucian's suspicions solidified. The diary could belong to no one but his father.
"So, Dad, what was this friend of yours like?" Lucian asked curiously.
"His personality could be summed up in two words, impulsive and courageous," Galen said, his eyes distant as he reminisced.
"And you? What were you like back then?" Lucian pressed.
Galen hesitated briefly before speaking. "I was... somewhat the opposite of Yasolt. While I wasn't a complete coward, I often ran from problems that felt beyond my control. Being impulsive wasn't in my nature. But I always craved more power, power to face my problems without hesitation."
Hearing this, Lucian was reminded of himself and his past life. The description struck a chord. 'Even though we're alike in some ways, Galen is far from a coward, he thought. Unlike me, who drowned in manga, games, and novels, he took action. I just ran from reality.' Lucian's gaze dropped to the floor, a pang of guilt hitting him.
"You've never mentioned this friend of yours before," Lucian said suddenly, lifting his head. "Why?"
Galen smirked. "Maybe because I was scared," he replied.
"Scared? Of what?" Lucian asked, surprised.
After a moment of silence, Galen began, "During our journey, we got lost in a forest for days. We faced countless dangers. But maybe it was those very dangers that forced me to awaken my ability to use mana." He paused, rubbing the back of his head with an embarrassed chuckle. "It's a little humiliating to admit, but your father couldn't use magic until he was nineteen."
Galen looked at Lucian with a bittersweet smile. "But seeing you, so talented and capable even as a kid, it makes me proud. You take after your mother. You're nothing like this old fool." He laughed, but it was a thin veil over his melancholy.
Noticing this, Lucian smiled gently. "Why would you say that, Dad? Sure, I might have Mom's magic talent, but without you, who would teach me about my limits and to be patient with this power? What's the point of being powerful if there's no one to guide you?"
Galen's expression softened, shifting to one of pride. "You're right, son. As long as you need me, your father will always be your guide."
"What happened in the forest?" Lucian asked, curiosity brimming. "How did you get out?"
Galen's gaze grew distant, his hands trembling slightly as though reliving a memory. He exhaled deeply before speaking. "We saw a trail of smoke rising into the sky. When we got closer, we found a small camp with a single tent. We didn't want to risk getting into trouble, so we waited for someone to come out. But no one did. Eventually, we decided to approach the tent ourselves. We weren't ready for what we found inside."
Lucian frowned, puzzled by his father's grim expression. "What was in there?"
"Dead bodies," Galen replied, his voice low.
Lucian's eyes widened. "Dead bodies? In the tent? Who were they?"
"We had no idea. But seeing them chilled me and Yasolt to the bone. There were three bodies inside. At first, we thought they'd been attacked by bandits, but there were no visible wounds. Yet, blood stained their eyes and mouths, as if they'd vomited blood or bled from their eyes. It was horrifying."
Lucian shuddered, his mind racing. 'Bleeding from their eyes and mouths... Dying while the world around you is painted red with your own blood...'
"What did you do?" he asked after a pause. "Did you run away?"
"We were about to," Galen admitted. "But as we stepped out of the tent, Yasolt suddenly stopped me. He said he could hear someone breathing heavily. I was terrified and wanted to leave, but Yasolt convinced me to help whoever was still alive."
"Did you find them?" Lucian asked.
"Yasolt followed the sound, and I followed him. Soon, we came to a massive crevasse, a natural pit hundreds of feet deep. I was sure no one could have survived falling in, but Yasolt insisted that he still heard breathing."
Lucian leaned forward. "Did you go down there?"
"I didn't," Galen said, his voice heavy. "But Yasolt did."
Lucian's jaw dropped. "What? How?"
Galen's lips twitched into a faint smile. "He jumped."
"What?!" Lucian gasped, unable to process what he'd just heard.