Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 73: Stepdaughter

Chapter 73: Stepdaughter

Cassandra walked half a step behind him, her mind spiraling. Every leaf crackle felt like a countdown. Her chest tightened with every step.

"What... exactly are you going to tell her?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

"The truth," he said, not slowing. "All of it."

"She’ll hate me."

"She’ll love you more."

"You don’t know that."

He stopped, turning to face her. "I do."

Their eyes met again. There was no hesitation in his—only certainty.

Cassandra took a deep breath, her eyes darting toward the training ground of Percival Mansion, which was mostly used by the training knights. But today, Christina was also there, doing her daily morning drills—hitting a practice dummy and swinging her sword.

She stood with her back turned to the entrance, hammering her wooden practice sword against a battered training dummy. Her strikes were relentless, precise—each one a release, a breath.

She didn’t notice them at first. But the others did.

The guards paused mid-step. Whispers crawled like ants across the training yard. One by one, all eyes turned toward the pair who had just arrived—Lady Cassandra of House Percival, and beside her, a tall, dark-haired man in nothing but a loose, low-hanging short that barely covered him. His chest was bare, etched with scars like stories carved into flesh. His presence was raw, primal. Dangerous.

And very, very noticeable.

Cassandra’s fingers twitched at her sides, her breathing growing shallow. The whispers hit her like windblown sand.

"Isn’t that the commoner boy from the stables?"

"The Lady... and him? Is it true, then?"

"So the rumors weren’t just rumors after all..."

"Baron’s been... incapable for years, right?"

Cassandra’s heart pounded in her chest. Her cheeks flushed with heat—not from embarrassment, but fear. Fear of how much worse the rumors would become. Fear of how Christina would look at her.

Christina, unaware of the whispers, brought her sword down with a final strike and let out a breath. It was only then that she noticed the silence. The stillness. The air had shifted.

She turned.

Her eyes widened the moment she saw them. Her mother... and beside her, that man—dark-haired, green-eyed, confident, shirtless. Scarred. The merchant she had caught whispers of, the one her mother had been hiding. The one the Baron had dismissed without explanation.

Christina’s face twisted with disbelief.

"Mother?" she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the murmurs like a blade. "What is this?"

Cassandra opened her mouth, but her voice failed her.

"I... Christina, I have something I need to talk to you about..."

But Christina had already stepped forward, unsheathing her training sword with a loud shink.

"Talk?" she snapped. "About what? About him?"

Shennong’s eyes met Christina’s with calm defiance. "This isn’t something we should be discussing here," he said, gesturing to the gathering audience. "Come with us."

Christina’s eyes narrowed. "Who even are you? Why are you acting like you matter here?"

Shennong gave a lazy, amused smile. "Do you really want to know? Right here? In front of everyone?"

Christina glanced around. The guards were watching with morbid fascination. She clenched her jaw. "Yes," she said coldly. "Tell me everything—right here, right now."

"Fine by me," Shennong said with a shrug, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "Lady Cassandra and I are in a relationship."

Gasps exploded like sparks through dry leaves.

Cassandra froze, her heart leaping to her throat. A dozen stares bore into her, but it was her daughter’s eyes she couldn’t bear to meet.

Christina’s knuckles whitened around her sword. Her jaw clenched. "I knew it," she whispered. "I knew something was going on." She took a step back, dropping her gaze, pressing a trembling hand to her forehead. "What is wrong with you, Mother?"

Cassandra tried to speak, but her voice trembled too much.

Then, Shennong gently touched her hand. She turned to him, eyes wide. He nodded, firm and silent.

Be brave.

Cassandra closed her eyes. "Thank you... Shennong," she whispered, then turned back to her daughter.

"I—" Her voice cracked, but she pushed forward. "Your father... Baron Jamie... He betrayed me first with a woman. Years ago. He’s not the man you think he is. He... he cheated. Over and over. Ignored me. Dismissed me. As a woman, as a partner. And every time I tried to contribute to managing the fief, he called me a failure despite taking advantage of my ability."

Tears welled in her eyes. "I took it for years. For your sake. But then Shennong came. He treated me like a person. He made me laugh. He made me feel again. And I realized... I didn’t want to die with nothing but pain in my heart."

"I love him, Christina. Not for gold. Not for power. But because he gave me something your father never did—happiness."

Silence.

Then, slowly, Christina turned to Shennong. Her expression had hardened like a soldier before battle. it almost looked like she accepted her mother, but not Shennong.

"So," she said, raising her sword. "You’re taking advantage of her. Is that it? You want gold? Title? Power?" She moved in a blur, placing the tip of her blade against his throat. "What do you want?"

"Christina, stop!" Cassandra cried out, but Shennong raised a hand to calm her.

"It’s alright."

Then, to everyone’s horror, he stepped forward—right into the blade. Blood beaded at his neck.

"You want to know what I want?" Shennong’s voice was low. Calm. "I want her. That’s all."

His emerald eyes flickered. "But maybe you need proof."

He raised a hand.

Suddenly, the air shimmered—and dozens of Iron swords rained down around Christina. Whistling through the air, they pierced the ground around her—one by one. Each missing her by mere inches. None touched her, but each one left her breathless.

The ground was littered with blades.

The guards gasped in alarm, some drawing swords instinctively. But Shennong didn’t move. His eyes were locked on Christina.

"Lesson one," he said with a small smile. "Never threaten someone unless you know what they’re capable of."

Christina’s lips parted, stunned.

Shennong’s expression turned serious. "I don’t want your mother’s title. I don’t care about gold. I have power already—more than you can imagine. What I want... is Cassandra. I want her by my side."

He stepped back, letting the iron swords go back into his inventory. Christina was not showing it, but she was shaking in fear because she had never felt death so close. She felt like she could faint any moment.

’What the hell is this skill? Where did these swords come from? Sky? Who is this person?’

Chrisitna was shouting inside, but kept her brave face.

"And whether you accept it or not... I don’t need your approval. But I’ll earn your respect, my stepdaughter."

Christina looked at him. Then at Cassandra. Her hands trembled, but she gripped her sword tightly.

"Don’t... call me stepdaughter," she said in a low voice, eyes burning with emotion.

Shennong gave her a half-smile. "Then fight me. Not to kill. But to understand. Aren’t you a warrior? You understand sword better than words right?"

Christina’s hands twitched. Her heart was thundering, but she lowered her blade. "Not here," she whispered. "Not in front of them."

"Agreed," Shennong said softly.

Cassandra stepped forward, putting a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. "Christina... I know it hurts. But I’ve never lied to you. Not until I had no choice."

Christina didn’t respond. She looked away, biting her tongue so hard it hurt. Cassandra felt hurt, but she knew things hadn’t gone as badly as she’d expected, so she could relax a little.

From the corner of his eye, Shennong noted the five guards watching intently—faces etched into memory. Later, he would find Yenissa. Her skill, [Hypnotize], would ensure none of them would be able to speak about this. For now, he let the moment simmer.

"Well, it might not be bad to get this land all for Cassandra... like a rebellion from Sturgon," Shennong thought, but he quickly dismissed the idea. He knew Cassandra loved her nation and had deep connections with its people. For her sake, he had to keep things private.

"Is there a place we can fight in private?" Shennong asked Cassandra. She gave a slight nod.

"Yes, there is a private training ground, but it’s not as big as this one."

"That’s fine—it won’t even take me two seconds to defeat Christina," Shennong said, knowing it would rile her up. As expected, he saw the visible veins on Christina’s forehead.

"Mother... you really find this foul-mouthed commoner that lovely? I think you’re crazy," she commented. That remark made Shennong happy, because she hadn’t once denied the idea that her father, Baron, might cheat on her mother. Nor did she question her father’s condition. That alone told Shennong that she cared even less about Baron than Cassandra did—despite Cassandra’s claims of a father-daughter bond between them.

Meanwhile, Cassandra watched as Shennong and Christina continued to bicker, their sharp words clashing like swords before the real fight had even begun. Despite the tension, a faint smile tugged at her lips. Deep down, she hoped that one day they would see past their differences and become friends. It wasn’t just wishful thinking—it was a quiet dream she clung to. If the two most important people in her life could find common ground, it would be more than a personal victory; it would be her greatest achievement.