The Son-In-Law Of A Prestigious Family Wants A Divorce

“Need a hand?”

The instant Isaac heard those words, he first wondered if he’d somehow been caught in the Transcendents’ spell.

Nothing about the scene—people, situation, or dialogue—made the slightest sense. Yet no matter how many times he blinked, Sharen’s sunny smile never wavered.

“…….”

“Wh‑ahp?”

Isaac grabbed Sharen’s cheeks and pulled them wide. Even Helmut’s muscles couldn’t fight that stretch, and her words came out a muffled mess.

“Wh‑wha’s wron’ wif you?!”

“…You really are Sharen.”

The quick temper and grumbling that followed were pure Sharen.

“How did you find out?”

“Find out what?”

“The regression. My coming back.”

“Ah‑huh!”

Hands on her hips, Sharen beamed. “I heard you talking with the Grandmaster!”

“…….”

“Remember at Baron Bolten’s mansion? You two were chatting about it! I was actually awake back then!”

She puffed her chest with pride. As ridiculous as it was, Isaac felt oddly relieved—the slip‑up was his and the Grandmaster’s, not some hidden plot. Had Sharen been tied to regression magic, he might never have trusted anyone again. Sharen being Sharen was a comfort.

Sharen has to stay Sharen.,

She’d probably pout if she heard that, but Isaac let the thought soothe him.

Eyes sparkling, Sharen leaned in. “So, Isaac, if you came from the past, you must’ve seen future me, right? How was I? Was I curvier than my sister?!”

“…….”

“I was, right? Right?”

Striking a pose she must have picked up somewhere, Sharen waggled her eyebrows. Isaac scratched his cheek in embarrassment.

“I… don’t know. After leaving Helmut I never saw you again.”

“Eh…? Really? Bummer.”

“More importantly—if you knew all this time, why didn’t you say anything?”

“Huh?”

Sharen’s eyes darted left and right, panic written all over her face.

What’s going on?

“W‑well, you see?! I was awake and overheard it, sure, but I thought you and the Grandmaster were just spouting nonsense!”

“…….”

“A‑and I didn’t even hear everything! I woke up in the middle! So yeah! But don’t worry, I… I never told anyone!”

“Sharen?”

“I‑I’m gonna go now?!”

Isaac grabbed her wrist, but Helmut strength was hard to beat; his hand slipped, and he nearly stumbled forward as she dashed off.

Weird.

Sharen was definitely hiding something she absolutely didn’t want revealed.

The question didn’t linger long. Around Rihanna, the Transcendents were in motion—it was time to step into the Primitive Lands.

Isaac took his place among the northern soldiers, rope looped around his wrists to play the offering. Silverna, bound to the same line, let out a quiet chuckle and gave the rope a playful tug.

“Whoa—!”

Lurching forward, Isaac ended up face‑first against Silverna’s plentiful curves—the very curves Sharen had bragged about.

“Heh.”

Silverna looked down, grinning as Isaac’s face buried in her chest.

Keeping perfectly calm, Isaac straightened. He could not react.

Gulp.

The Guardian of the North was glowering at him from behind. Any reaction—any—would surely earn her wrath. Best to pretend nothing happened.

“Quit fooling around,” he murmured.

“You’re really a stone pillar, huh.”

“Is that how all handsome men act?” Anna chimed in from the side. Usually these schemes were her idea; she had probably coached Silversna this time as well.

Just then, Nureumdol trudged over from his chat with Sharen, looking thoroughly depressed.

“Haah, I really don’t want to go in there.”

The giant stone drew every gaze nearby.

“Why are you so against it?”

Isaac’s question wasn’t just for Nureumdol.

If he understood why the big fellow hated this place so much, it might prove useful later.

Nureumdol’s reply came out small, as though all the strength had drained from his voice.

“You humans wouldn’t know, but… to my kind, the Primitive Lands are—”

He trailed off, face twisting as if the very words tasted foul. Isaac didn’t press; it looked like Nureumdol might truly start crying.

They soon learned the reason. As they neared the stone rampart—

Thud!

A block in the wall opened an eye.

“Nureumdol, is that you?”

The wall spoke. Isaac’s skin crawled, but Nureumdol answered, weary and familiar.

“That voice… Pyeongdori? You’re here too.”

“Yeah. I was rolling outside and accidentally crushed a Transcendent.”

“Yikes. Big accident. Lucky you’re alive.”

“Are you becoming a brick as well?”

“N‑no! Not me!”

A brick?

Memory flashed—Isaac’s first meeting with Nureumdol:

[P‑please spare me! I swear I wasn’t trying to prank anyone! I don’t want to turn into a brick! I’m not nearly hard enough! I’m far too soft to be used as a wall!]

Back then Nureumdol had mistaken Rihanna and Sharen for Transcendents and trembled at their “spells.”

Now the scattered puzzle pieces slid into place.

“So… this is what you were afraid of?” Silverna murmured.

The eye in the brick swiveled toward her.

“A human. How curious.”

“R‑right? I heard she’s a sacrifice.”

“Just like us, then.”

Its voice carried no feeling at all—fitting for stone—yet the party knew how expressive Nureumdol could be.

Seeing his kind robbed not only of limbs but of emotions tightened their chests.

“Why would anyone do this to you?!” Silverna snapped.

Her shout seemed to rouse the wall; more eyes blinked open, staring silently down at her.

None spoke—they looked as though they’d forgotten how.

“Because it’s efficient…” Nureumdol answered for them. “There are lots of beasts, but few Transcendents. A s‑stone wall can raise an alarm and fend off small monsters.”

“So they turned you into defenses?” she hissed.

“As long as a brick doesn’t break, it’s an eternal barrier.”

The unopened blocks—were they those who’d already lost even the will to look?

Seen that way, the wall felt like a kind of grave: not of bodies, but of selves.

Up ahead, negotiations must have gone well; the group began filing through the gate.

Even while passing beneath the arch, Silverna’s gaze stayed fixed on the living rampart.

Were they making eye contact?

Isaac chose not to ask.

Isaac hadn’t asked only for Nureumdol’s sake.

If he knew why the big fellow loathed this place so much, it might come in handy later.

Once inside, the scenery grew even stranger.

Rows of oddly shaped houses—much like the ones back in Benhaim—lined the streets, half‑hidden behind low stone walls. The air itself felt as though melody and mood were drifting through it.

Transcendents passing by glanced their way, then clicked their tongues with open menace.

“Humans?”

“Ptch. Good for frying alive.”

“Prisoners, huh? Perfect.”

“Be nice to sell them as slaves.”

“Got money for that?”

“We could pool our guild fund, buy one, and share.”

“Those merchants are about to make a killing.”

Chilling words—talk suited to livestock or sheep—were aimed squarely at the group, and no one’s face looked pleasant.

Their destination was a narrowing alley devoid of foot traffic.

Rancelon had bragged he knew a friend here and claimed they could stay at that friend’s place for a while.

“Hehe, I can’t wait to see the human lands. Truly, I’m thrilled.”

Stuck to Rihanna’s side, Rancelon chattered nonstop, breathless at the idea of ruining the human realm.

“If we strip every blade of grass and tree from them, they’ll finally understand: such things only drive us all to conflict and weakness.”

“……”

“Don’t you agree? This way we achieve true peace. If there’s nothing to fight over, no one will fight, and the evolution of the lesser races will proceed naturally.”

Rancelon had grown used to Rihanna’s impassive face, but Isaac could see the irritation beneath that mask.

“I’ll go on ahead and speak with my comrade,” Rancelon said just before the alley bent deeper, and he strode off alone.

That left a brief moment of respite.

The other Transcendents, posing as pack merchants, drifted toward the market. Once Isaac signaled, they would make their move.

Seeing an opening, he fixed his gaze on Rihanna; she cocked her head and came over.

“What is it?” she asked, instantly sensing he had something to say.

Silverna, bound beside them, watched with open curiosity while Isaac cleared his throat and glanced toward Sharen.

Sharen was sniffing the air, nose twitching like a puppy—apparently lured by some sweet scent.

“Lately… have you noticed anything off about Sharen?” Isaac asked.

“Sharen?” Rihanna echoed, following his gaze.

Sharen leaned forward, ready to trot off after the aroma. Isaac felt an odd anxiety that she might actually scamper away.

“I mean, anything unusual. Different in some way. Like… her vibe feels off?”

Rihanna closed her mouth and thought.

“Not really,” she said at last—far from the answer Isaac wanted.

Silverna, listening in, tilted her head. “What’s wrong? Is Sharen acting strange?”

“It’s just that—” Isaac began, only to falter. How was he supposed to explain his unease? He sighed, ready to drop it.

“Well, there is one thing,” Rihanna offered, clearly wanting to help. “I probably need to start teaching her.”

“Teaching?” Silversna blinked. Isaac frowned as well.

“Vocabulary. She… doesn’t seem to know some words. The other day she asked me what ‘regression’ meant.”

“……!”

– – The End of The Chapter ––

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