Aeloria had a unique system of governance. Leadership wasn't passed down through bloodlines but earned through demonstrated capability. The reigning Supreme chose their successor based on merit, ensuring the kingdom would continue to flourish under competent rule. Yet, in rare cases, exceptions arose. If a Supreme died without naming a successor, their predecessor would temporarily reassume the role until another suitable candidate emerged. Should even this fail, the Council of Elders—comprised of Aeloria's most esteemed and wise individuals—would select the next Supreme.
The Sixth Supreme had ruled for just over two years, a tenure cut tragically short by the incident that claimed both his and his wife's lives. In the aftermath, Walter Hensley, the Fifth Supreme, was forced to return to power. Now in his seventies, his silver-gray hair remained sharp and immaculate, his robust physique belying his age. But his demeanor—rigid, deliberate, and curt—betrayed a man worn thin by decades of service.
He sat on the balcony of his chambers, indulging in a rare smoke break as the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon. His gaze lingered over the city, still bearing the scars of war yet beginning to heal under his reign.
'Serelina,' he muttered silently, the name barely audible even to him. It wasn't affection that brought her to mind but rather obligation. She was the daughter of Kael, his former disciple, and Kael's fiery wife, a woman who had earned Walter's begrudging respect.
Walter had ensured her survival after the tragedy—a roof over her head, food on her plate, and safety from external threats. At least, that was what he assumed. Beyond those provisions, he'd kept his distance. She was, after all, just a child.
'A child with no immediate role to play in Aeloria's restoration,' he reasoned.
'I've done enough,' he thought firmly, the words more a justification than a truth. His focus was the kingdom, not indulging in personal sentimentality. Yet, as much as he tried to push it aside, Kael's final plea echoed faintly in his mind:
'Take care of her.'
Finishing his pipe, he sighed. 'Perhaps I've waited too long.'
He turned around and then summoned the Duskveil, the masked elite force sworn solely to the Supreme. Though he rarely required an escort, tradition dictated their presence.
"This will be brief," he told them, his tone leaving no room for interpretation.
His departure from the palace was discreet, his absence unnoticed by the court. The journey was not one of ceremony but of quiet resolve. In truth, Walter saw this as more an act of tidying loose ends than a heartfelt reunion. He was a man who thrived on practicality, not sentimentality.
The orphanage he arrived at was far removed from the grand halls of the capital. Its weathered exterior spoke of neglect, its faded walls barely holding against the elements. Walter knocked sharply, his impatience growing as the seconds passed.
A bleary-eyed man eventually stumbled to the door, his disheveled appearance suggesting a night of excess. "Who in their right mind—" he started, only to freeze as he recognized Walter's imposing figure.
Walter's sharp gaze narrowed. "Where is Serelina?"
The caretaker stammered incoherently; his fear evident. Walter raised a single eyebrow, unimpressed. Without waiting for a response, he extended his mana to locate her. The faint signature was unmistakable, leading him deeper into the orphanage.
He moved with precision, ignoring the man who scrambled in his wake. His steps brought him to a dilapidated door that, by all accounts, should have led to storage. But beyond it, Walter sensed her presence.
Pushing the door open, he found the room in shambles—cold, dimly lit, and utterly unfit for habitation. And there, curled on a thin mat in the corner, lay Serelina. Her frail body was marred with bruises, her clothes little more than patched rags. She stirred faintly, disturbed by the sound of the door creaking.
Walter's expression was unreadable, his thoughts hidden behind an impenetrable mask. He stepped forward, his voice measured. "Serelina. Wake up."
The girl's eyes fluttered open, confusion giving way to alarm as her gaze fixed on the figure looming above her. Recognition dawned quickly.
"Y-You're..." she began, her voice shaky. "The Fifth Supreme... Walter Hensley. The Mage God."
Her mind raced, recalling the system's earlier notification. 'Is this the quest it mentioned?'
[Indeed, it is Host.] The system's voice confirmed within her thoughts.
Walter observed her silently, his sharp eyes missing nothing. If he felt anything—anger, guilt, or sorrow—it was buried deep beneath his cold exterior. For now, he was here to fulfill a duty.
Serelina immediately collected herself, determined to accomplish both objectives of the quest. She deliberately stood up, causing her ragged clothes to ride up, exposing her young pussy. Serelina felt beyond thrilled exposing herself. In her past life, she had a knack for exhibitionism and she knew that if only her body are mature, her pussy would be dripping wet.
Walter's breath hitched for a brief moment. He was confident he wasn't a pedophile, yet something indescribable stirred within him. He quickly forced himself to look away, focusing his attention elsewhere.
As Walter diverted his focus, a notification flashed before Serelina.
[Congratulations Host, you have completed one of the objectives. Rewards will be given later.]
"Yes!" Serelina whispered to herself, barely containing her excitement. After a moment, she calmed herself and began focusing on the remaining objective.
"Um, Sir Hensley, why are you here?" she asked, her tone carefully measured to convey innocent curiosity.
'At this point in the novel, I'm not supposed to know my parents were heroes of Aeloria. It makes the most sense to question his motives as to why he is visiting an ordinary child,' she thought, masking her anticipation as she studied Walter's reaction.
Walter regarded her with mild approval. Despite her harsh upbringing, the girl displayed an unexpected politeness that impressed him. Clearing his throat, he responded.
"You, child, have been selected as a beneficiary of a charity program organized by the Palace of the Supreme."
Serelina nodded, feigning belief while inwardly impressed. 'He's a true politician. That lie was seamless, delivered without so much as a flicker of hesitation,' she thought. However, her stomach interrupted the moment with a loud growl, betraying her undernourished state.
Walter's sharp eyes caught the sound, his gaze briefly lingering on her frail, malnourished form. Though he rarely allowed himself to feel pity, something about this situation stirred him. His initial plan for a short visit was now a distant thought.
"Come, Serelina," he said, his voice softening slightly. "Let's discuss this further over a proper meal."
Serelina nodded eagerly, part of her act but also a genuine reaction to the prospect of food.
Without turning back, Walter spoke into the shadows, his tone commanding.
"Duskveils, take care of this orphanage."
From the corners of the room, faint movements could be heard as unseen figures stirred. Walter didn't glance back, simply nodding in approval before guiding Serelina toward a nearby restaurant he trusted.