He called his Parents...

...

Upon reaching the grand dining hall, Cedric had already entered, leaving Eren and Oswald standing at the entrance. The butler, as composed as ever, positioned himself beside Eren.

Eren remained still, his gaze fixed on the large doors before him. A strange thought crossed his mind.

"I'm about to meet my new 'parents' in this world."

It was an unfamiliar concept to him. He had never truly experienced having parents before—or at least, he thought so. Then again, fragments of memories resurfaced, making him second-guess himself. Had he once known parental figures? One? Two? Four times?

He couldn't quite recall.

His brief moment of contemplation was interrupted as Oswald stepped forward, his white-gloved hand pushing the door open with a practiced elegance. With an inviting gesture, he signaled for Eren to enter.

Eren stepped inside.

The dining hall was vast, exuding the prestige of a noble household. A long, polished mahogany table stretched down the center of the room, adorned with golden candle stands and an array of fine silverware. A grand chandelier hung above, its intricate crystal design refracting the warm glow of candlelight, casting shimmering reflections onto the high-arched ceiling. The walls, lined with towering windows draped in deep crimson curtains, allowed a faint glimpse of the evening sky beyond. The floor was made of polished wood, reflecting the grandeur of the setting like a pristine mirror.

On either side of the room, eight maids and servants stood in disciplined silence, awaiting orders.

"it's a lot impressive than I thought, huh..." Eren mused internally.

A soft yet refined voice pulled him from his thoughts.

"My boy, you've finally come."

The words, spoken with warmth, belonged to a woman seated at the long table's side. She smiled gently, her presence radiating a maternal aura. Opposite her sat Cedric, who remained silent, his expression unreadable.

"Come, Eren. Have a seat."

This time, the voice belonged to the man at the head of the table. His tone was firm yet welcoming, exuding the authority expected of a nobleman.

Eren's steps faltered slightly as he took in their appearances.

At the head of the table sat Marquis Edric Valmont, the 30th head of the Valmont family. His jet-black hair, much like Cedric's and Eren's, was neatly combed back, revealing light red.eyes that gleamed under the candlelight. A well-groomed mustache rested above his lips, giving him a dignified yet somewhat imposing presence. He wore a luxurious deep-red velvet coat, intricately embroidered with golden patterns resembling the Valmont family crest. A white silk cravat rested neatly against his chest, secured with a ruby brooch, and his black gloves were lined with gold embroidery, completing his regal appearance.

Seated to his left was a woman, radiating elegance despite her soft and gentle demeanor. Isadora Valmont, the first wife of the Marquis, had golden-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders in delicate waves. Her striking blue eyes gleamed with warmth as she regarded Eren with curiosity. She wore a light blue gown adorned with golden embroidery, its fine silk shimmering under the candlelight. A sheer lace shawl draped over her shoulders, adding an air of refinement to her already noble presence.

As Eren observed them closely, he found himself unable to look away. He stared—longer than he probably should have—his expression blank yet filled with silent scrutiny.

His mother tilted her head slightly, her soft smile never fading.

"What's wrong, dear?" she asked, her tone as warm as before.

Eren remained silent.

Instead, he reached out to Useless in his mind.

'Hey, Useless.'

[Yes, Master?]

"Are they really my parents?"

[Yes. There are no mistakes in it.]

[The 30th head of the Valmont family, Marquis Edric Valmont, and his only wife, Isadora Valmont. Both of them are your biological parents...]

[The parents of Eren Valmont, that is.]

Despite the system's firm confirmation, Eren still had doubts. Logically, he understood that his appearance took after his father—the matching black hair and red eyes were undeniable proof of their bloodline. But still, he was wondering.

Why were both of his parents…

"...Fat."

"...."

"...."

A heavy silence filled the hall.

Even though Eren had muttered the word in a low voice, the Marquis and Marchioness were still able heard it. Their expressions froze for a moment, as if their brains refused to process what their youngest son had just said.

Even Cedric, who had been sitting in silence with his arms crossed and eyes closed, suddenly snapped his eyes open wide in shock. He turned his head to look at Eren, disbelief clear in his gaze.

Oswald, the butler, also stiffened, his usual composed expression cracking as he stared at the young master in disbelief.

The silence stretched on until the Marquis, with an awkward smile, finally spoke.

"E-Eren... What was that?" he asked hesitantly, as if he had misheard.

His wife, the servants, and Oswald all had the same thought.

Eren quickly realized his mistake. Even though he had said it in a low voice, everyone had heard it. So, without hesitation, he quickly corrected himself.

"Fa—Ther, Mother. Good morning," Eren said with a bright smile, putting on his best childlike expression.

The tense atmosphere instantly disappeared as his parents sighed in relief, convinced they had misheard. Oswald and even the servants also relaxed, returning to their usual composure.

All except for Cedric.

His older brother was still staring at him, veins popping on his forehead as he clenched his fists, his eye corner twitch, clearly holding back his anger.

Completely ignoring Cedric, the Marchioness smiled warmly and patted the seat next to her.

"Come here, dear. You can sit next to your mom."

Eren nodded with a smile. "Yes, Mother."

.....

There was a simple reason why Eren had said that word.

His parents were fat.

Really fat.

Eren didn't have a problem with it, but it made him curious—curious enough to start wondering if they were really his parents and Cedric's parents.

Before coming to the dining hall, he had assumed that his parents would be very good-looking couples. Considering how good he and Cedric looked—Cedric would be even more handsome if he shaved—he had expected their parents to be equally beautiful and refined.

But his guess had been completely wrong.

He wasn't trying to body-shame them, of course. It was just… surprising. He could tell that both the Marquis and his wife must have been very attractive in their youth—if only they didn't have so much excess weight.

Still, there was no point thinking about it too much.

As Eren sat down, he glanced at the table, taking in the extravagant spread before him.

The long dining table was covered with a pristine white tablecloth, decorated with white plates and silverware. Various dishes were arranged neatly—roasted pheasant drizzled with a rich wine sauce, golden-brown venison pie, fresh-baked bread with imported truffle butter, and a large silver bowl of creamy mushroom soup. Small plates carried a selection of fine cheeses, candied nuts, and figs.

Eren's own plate had been carefully prepared—thin slices of roasted duck, soft mashed potatoes with butter, and a side of steamed vegetables seasoned with herbs. A glass cub was placed beside his plate, filled with sweet fruit nectar instead of wine.

Taking his fork, Eren took a bite of his meal, letting the flavors settle on his tongue.

"How is the food, dear?"

.....