“Ugh, it’s cold....”
While staring out at the swiftly changing scenery beyond the awkward silence of the carriage, I shivered at a sudden chill and turned my gaze to the side.
‘Is the Lady glaring at again?’
But contrary to my expectations, Lady redia wasn’t looking at . She was staring at Cecil, who sat beside , wearing a sullen expression.
“Lady redia, is sothing wrong—”
“Hey.”
Just as I was carefully about to speak, wondering what this was about now, redia cut in—not to , but to Cecil—her voice cold.
“If you’ve got sothing to say, say it already.”
“...Ah, well...”
“Don’t make that pitiful puppy face.”
At those words, Cecil hesitated for a mont, swallowed dryly, and then shifted her gaze toward .
“O-Oppa.”
And with what ca out of her mouth next, I couldn’t help but wear a dazed expression.
‘...Did she just call Oppa?’
When was the last ti Cecil called that since we were kids?
Aside from when she was scared and used it out of reflex, I’m pretty sure this is the first ti she’s called that on her own.
Am I dreaming?
“...Sorry for misunderstanding you all this ti.”
“...Huh?”
“From now on, I’ll listen to you better.”
Dumbfounded by a reality I could hardly believe, I subtly pinched my thigh, and then tilted my head at her following words in utter confusion.
‘Hasn’t she always listened to pretty well?’
It’s not like she’s ever really given a hard ti or disobeyed.
Even the recent Prodigy Selection Tournant—sure, that was stressful, but it was sothing she wanted, so it wasn’t like she deliberately caused trouble.
“You’re a good girl, my little sister.”
Still, since her words were touching in their own right, I smiled gently and stroked Cecil’s head.
“...Hehe.”
In response, Cecil lowered her head and let out a soft giggle, kicking her legs back and forth in turn.
Okay, this is really weird now. Could it be that her rebellious phase ended after what happened last ti?
“Anyway, what happened with the Prodigy Selection Tournant?”
“...It got completely canceled. They said they’ll hold it again next year.”
Feeling an odd sense of dissonance creep up my spine, I subtly pulled my hand back and changed the subject. Cecil looked at calmly as she answered.
“Aren’t you upset about it?”
I’d already heard from the officials that the tournant was canceled entirely.
“It’s pretty much my fault that it ended in such a ss.”
Still, I was a bit curious how she felt about it from her point of view, so I asked—even if it might make things awkward.
“That’s not a big deal.”
“...What?”
But sothing about her response felt off.
“What’s more important is that you beca the Hero, right?”
“...Huh?”
“Stuff like that tournant—I can join it next year or the year after. But a Hero? That’s a once-in-several-centuries, legendary existence.”
Sure, Cecil was a good kid, but... was she ever the type to flatter this blatantly?
Not to ntion—she saw covered in blood in that room full of collapsed black mages, right?
And I never really gave her a proper explanation there, so by all logic, she should still be seriously misunderstanding right now...
‘...No, I guess none of that matters now that I’m the Hero.’
Still frozen in place, I finally grasped how powerful the status of “Hero” really was.
Co to think of it, Cecil liked Hero stories almost as much as Lunelle did. If her big brother beca one, she probably couldn’t see anything else.
‘Well... maybe this turned out for the best.’
All the worrying I’d done ca to nothing in the end, but at least she won’t be in danger anymore. That’s a relief.
Now I’ll be the one who has to go out and fight hard on her behalf, but that’s fine. As long as my little sister doesn’t have to risk her life to save the world.
“Oppa, I’ll work even harder from now on so I can support you.”
“...Haha.”
With that thought, I awkwardly accepted it as Cecil leaned her head against my shoulder, her sudden sweetness making it all feel very strange.
“I even figured out how to engrave spells into my sword aura now... So I’m only going to get stronger from here....”
“Right...”
“So don’t push yourself too hard, okay? Promise?”
Still—what is this feeling of discomfort I can’t shake?
“.......”
And why has the Lady been glaring at Cecil, not , this whole ti?
***
—Screeeeech....
The carriage, which had been rolling along the road for quite so ti, slowly began to decelerate.
“Our territory may not be much, but its proximity to the capital really is convenient.”
Even with the awkward atmosphere still lingering in the carriage, Whitney forced a smile and tried to start a conversation with redia.
“So, do you have anything more you’d like to discuss? Or perhaps...”
“You get out.”
“...Huh?”
“I have sothing to talk about with your sister.”
But before he could even finish his sentence, redia cut him off coldly. /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Whitney, briefly flustered, glanced at Cecil.
“Will you be alright, Cecil?”
“...Yes.”
When he asked in a voice full of concern, Cecil quietly nodded.
“It’s just sothing I want to ask her personally. Could you step outside for a mont?”
“Then... I’ll wait outside for a bit.”
“Sure. Take the coachman with you when you get out.”
Still casting occasional glances at redia, Whitney finally stepped out of the carriage with a reluctant expression.
“If... let’s say, just hypothetically...”
Inside the now-empty carriage, redia lowered her voice and asked a quiet question to Cecil, who eyed her warily.
“...What would you do if your brother turned out to be a Demon King who’d bring ruin to the world?”
And then—an eerie silence.
“Can you take responsibility for that question?”
“...Ha. Cute. You even know how to radiate killing intent already.”
Like a cat arching its back in front of an enemy, Cecil bristled and growled, and redia chuckled as she continued.
“From what I heard, you and Whitney weren’t exactly on the best of terms.”
“.......”
“So what changed? Why are you suddenly so close?”
Her tone was gentle, but the pressure redia exuded was far beyond what a first-year academy student like Cecil could handle.
“And why should I tell you that?”
Even so, seeing Cecil force herself to stand firm against her, redia made an odd expression and quietly rose to her feet.
“Did you, by any chance, feel unwell at all in the days after the tournant ended?”
“What kind of question is that all of a sudden...”
“Just answer mine.”
As she approached and sat beside her, Cecil froze up and darted her eyes sideways, confused by the unexpected question.
“My neck ached a little a few days ago...”
“...Hah. So that’s it.”
“W-Wait. What are you trying to do—”
At that mont, redia reached into her coat and extended a hand toward Cecil.
“It’s fine. I’m not going to eat you.”
“.......”
“I’m just going to shine a mirror that stores reflections against the back of your neck.”
Startled, Cecil flinched slightly, but still let out a resigned sigh and quietly lowered her head as redia brushed back her hair.
“There. Do you see it?”
“...This is—”
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
“A Mark of Subjugation. It doesn’t outright force behavior like a Slave’s Brand, but the ways it can be used are virtually endless.”
And a few seconds later, reflected in the mirror redia held out, the exact sa symbol that had been engraved on the princess’s stomach earlier flickered into view.
“If I could’ve branded that bastard Maier with sothing like this, I’d have paid a fortune.”
“......”
“I actually tried a few tis. But for so reason, it failed every single ti.”
Still staring at the mark with intense curiosity, redia’s voice turned noticeably colder as she asked her next question.
“What if it was your brother who branded you with this, and you’re under his influence?”
“There’s no proof my brother did it.”
“For sothing with no proof, it sure reeks of his magic.”
At those words, Cecil’s body trembled briefly—but then she glared at redia directly, growling once more.
“Stop insulting my brother.”
“Is this just denial? Or do you actually have a reason to be saying that?”
“...Of course I have a reason.”
Though redia remained relaxed, as if watching a small animal bristle its fur, Cecil gritted her teeth and handed the mirror back, speaking up.
“You could interpret this as a Mark of Subjugation, sure. But you could also interpret it as a blessing, couldn’t you?”
“...A blessing?”
“If a black mage inscribes it with ill intent, it’s a curse. But if a white mage inscribes it with goodwill, it becos a blessing. I’m sure you know that.”
Another silence followed—this ti longer.
“Brother and sister both, bold as ever.”
“......”
“But... that’s a valid theory.”
Breaking the silence at last, redia murmured with a note of satisfaction, prompting Cecil to mutter irritably in response.
“...It’s not a theory. My brother is a white mage.”
“Yeah, a white mage is technically still a white mage...”
At that, redia muttered with an exasperated tone, slightly puffing her cheeks.
“...Even if he emits weird gray resonance, controls monsters, and corrupts saintesses.”
“...What?”
“No, never mind. Just talking to myself.”
She paused mid-thought, then quietly rose from her seat.
“Anyway, sorry about the little test earlier. In my world, family ans people desperate to devour one another.”
“...What?”
“I assud you were the sa kind. Guess I was wrong.”
With all the killing intent gone from her voice, Cecil finally relaxed, her expression easing slightly.
“This much is enough for to not take any action personally.”
That the na Cecil was montarily erased from redia’s ntal kill list—that was a secret known only to the Lady herself.
“So, are we done here?”
“No. I’ve still got one more thing.”
“What is it? I really just want to go ho with my brother now.”
Just as Cecil was about to make her escape from the terrifying presence once as fearso as Whitney himself, redia suddenly stepped in her way again.
“...What does your brother like?”
“...What?”
But that confusion lasted only a mont—Cecil quickly softened her expression as she heard redia’s question.
“Even if this is the first gift I’ve ever received in my life... I still know basic etiquette ans giving sothing in return.”
“Ah.”
“...So I was hoping you might help out a little.”
Cecil was, by nature, a very smart girl.
“That’s what this is about...”
And so she imdiately understood that the power dynamic had just shifted.
“What the heck. I thought you were scary like the rumors said, but turns out you’ve got a girlish side too, huh?”
“......”
“Well, alright. If that’s the case, I’ll help you out. This kind of thing is my specialty.”
Now fully in control of the conversation, Cecil boasted with a grin while redia, visibly irritated but keeping quiet, listened closely.
“Listen carefully. My brother actually...”
“...Likes origami. I already knew that.”
“Ah. W-Well... I an... Uhm...”
“...You weren’t bluffing when you said you were an expert, were you?”
“N-No! Just give a second!”
As redia gave a faintly disappointed look, Cecil began to panic, cold sweat forming as she scrambled to co up with sothing else.
“Let’s see, uhm... What my brother likes is... Oh! Right—homade cinnamon cookies!”
“That’s... for sure?”
“Yes! Definitely. It’s a top-tier secret only I know.”
Proudly shrugging her shoulders after finally recalling sothing, Cecil saw redia murmur to herself with a surprised expression.
“Between origami and this... my fiancé really has childish tastes for soone who looks so serious.”
“Excuse ? Could you not talk about him like that?”
Cecil snapped a little at that remark.
“Our mother used to bake those for him before she passed, you know.”
“...Ah.”
At that, redia flinched just slightly and went quiet.
“Hmph. Maybe you’ve never cooked a day in your life with those noble hands of yours, but if you want to replicate that flavor, it’ll take you years to—”
“...Sorry.”
“Wha—!?”
Cecil froze mid-rant, stunned as redia averted her eyes and apologized.
“What is it?”
“...It’s just—you really don’t seem like the kind of person who’d apologize. It caught off guard.”
With that, the atmosphere in the carriage turned awkward once more.
“So... when exactly did you and my brother start... being like that?”
“......”
“I an, at first you two looked like it was just business. But now... you both seem really serious. H-Haha...”
Trying to steer away from the awkwardness, Cecil changed the subject—but quickly regretted it, worried she may have stepped into sothing too sensitive.
“...Is that how it looks?”
“Whoa. No way.”
Still looking away, redia asked in a soft voice, her cheeks slightly flushed. The sudden tenderness made Cecil shiver with goosebumps and mutter under her breath.
“Everyone said she was ice-cold and wouldn’t bleed even if stabbed, but... I get it now. There’s a reason my brother likes her...”
“......”
“Um, Lady redia, about what I just said—wait, mmph!?”
But as she babbled thoughtlessly, redia suddenly and forcefully clamped a hand over her mouth, making Cecil’s eyes go wide.
“Mmmph...!”
“Shh. Be quiet.”
At first, Cecil thought maybe she had said sothing out of line—but soon realized that wasn’t it.
“Sothing’s approaching....”
redia’s jeweled eyes were not on Cecil, but turned sharply toward the carriage window.
“It’s dangerous. Stay here and keep quiet.”
“Mmph...”
Leaving Cecil seated, redia quickly gave her a warning and rushed out of the carriage.
“...What’s going on?”
Now alone, Cecil tilted her head, murmuring in confusion.
“Saintess said that if Oppa’s ever in danger, this mark would let her know...”
In truth, without even Parsha realizing it, Cecil had already quietly pledged herself to the Saintess’s side as one of her loyal subordinates.
“...If soone really is coming, then I’ll just kill them.”
Her values may have shifted to be just as warped as the Saintess’s—but at least for now, that was probably a good thing.
***
“You’ve gotta be kidding ...”
Standing outside the carriage as instructed by redia, I suddenly spotted a pigeon circling above—wearing a tiny eyepatch—and felt a chill race down my spine.
“Am I hallucinating right now?”
There was only one person in the entire world who’d send such a bizarrely dressed carrier pigeon.
The current leader of the White Magic Alliance, Lun Ordo. Youngest in history, most powerful white mage. A third faction so independent that even the Empire and Holy Theocracy tried not to interfere.
“That insane, chuunibyou-obsessed psycho brat... What the hell does she want with ...?”
Tiffany Astellade’s carrier pigeon was casually circling overhead, a letter tied to its leg.
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