Brothers are brothers.
But when it cos to his daughter Illya, there’s no room for sentintality.
For Illya’s sake, I, Heracles, might even take down the Demon God King Goetia!
Illya is the person Heracles cares about most—he’s long treated her as his own daughter.
Back then, under the curse of Queen Hera, he had gone mad and accidentally killed his own children, an unbearable trauma that haunted him.
To atone, Heracles undertook the grueling Twelve Labors.
After helping Naless defeat the terrifying enemy Kronos, Heracles earned the right to beco a god—but he chose to forsake it.
Instead, he descended to the mortal world in the form of the ultimate heroic spirit.
This is the age of humanity.
The gods, after all, are suppressed by the world and cannot descend freely.
"My dear brother Naless, though your achievents may surpass the heavens, if you dare make Illya cry, don’t bla for using all twelve of my lives to settle the score!"
Heracles’ massive, muscular fra radiated murderous intent.
"Relax, he won’t make cry!"
Illya’s cheeks flushed slightly at his words.
Really, this Berserker was so overprotective, treating her like his own daughter.
As for that gentle, doting "mother hen" Souma—every ti she visited, he went out of his way to prepare all her favorite foods. How could he possibly make her cry?
[Perhaps you’ll be made to cry in bed~]
???
Illya was baffled—another voice had just echoed in her mind.
A voice that sounded just like hers, yet spoke with a completely different tone!
Am I... schizophrenic?
Could I actually split into two people?
Noticing her strange reaction, Heracles’ killing intent vanished instantly, replaced by fatherly concern. "Hm? What’s wrong?"
"N-Nothing," Illya shook her head.
How could she explain this to anyone?
She couldn’t just say she’d gone insane, could she?
It must be an illusion!
Definitely!
For now, she should focus on picking out an outfit for her visit to Souma’s place later.
Maybe she could even stay overnight...
Ding-dong~
Illya pressed the doorbell.
A mont later, hurried footsteps approached from inside.
Souma, who had been lounging on the living room couch slacking off, got up to answer the door.
Standing outside was Illya, here for a casual visit.
The little lolita was bundled up in a silver-white down jacket, looking adorably clumsy.
Souma smiled. "Co in quickly. It’s cold out—I’ll make you so black tea to warm up."
"Mm, thanks."
Illya bead sweetly. "Is Roya not ho?"
"That kid went out to queue for figurines again," Souma said with a twitch of his lips.
The brat’s grades were excellent, no problem there.
The issue was her obsession with heroic spirits—she’d amassed a mountain of figurines, posters, and other rch.
In that regard, she was just like Romani Archaman!
Soday, it’d be interesting to see the doctor’s reaction when they finally t.
Would Romani end up recomnding [Magi☆Mari] to Roya?
Speaking of which, that scumbag rlin had been unusually quiet lately. What was he up to?
Souma felt a faint unease.
That guy was always stirring up trouble—his recent silence was almost unsettling.
Could he be locked in soone’s basent, gagged and... trained?
Souma reined in his wandering thoughts, only to find a wall standing before him!
"Holy shit, how much does this guy eat?"
The thought instantly popped into his head.
Then.
He quickly snapped back to reality and looked up at the other person: "So, Illya, this is the person you brought?"
The man before him was incredibly muscular and imposing, radiating an unimaginable oppressive presence.
His black suit was practically bursting at the seams.
A literal "suit-wearing brute" in appearance.
To be able to follow Illya around while exuding such terrifying pressure—
Holy crap, is that Berserker paying a visit?
Souma was instantly shocked.
He’d just finished watching the video "Olympian Gods," and less than two days later, the actual figure had descended into the mortal world!
The only consolation was that they were comrades-in-arms.
During their final battle against Kronos, the other had transford into a frenzied giant at all costs, holding back that terrifying monster.
Together with Mashu and the Gorgon sisters, they’d bought him ti to forge the God-Slaying Sword.
The other man slightly lowered his head to look at him: "Hello, I’m Illya’s elder, my na is Basaka."
"...Hello."
Souma took half a step back.
Berserker, you’re not even trying to hide it, are you?
Because "Berserker" phonetically translates to "Basaka" in Japanese!
He forced a polite yet awkward smile: "This is my first ti seeing soone so muscular. May I ask how you train?"
"It’s just natural talent."
Heracles replied calmly.
His massive fra practically "squeezed" its way inside.
The young man before him seed too green.
When he’d first seen him, he’d shown ordinary surprise and a hint of fear.
That was normal.
Most people reacted similarly upon seeing his imposing physique.
Heracles was full of doubts.
Could Illya have been mistaken? Was this just an ordinary boy?
"Alright, you two take a seat. Dinner will be ready soon." Souma called out.
Then.
He tied on an apron and entered what was currently his most important battlefield—
The kitchen.
Compared to the troubleso title of [Grand Beauty] that brought nothing but problems.
He’d much rather be called [Grand Chef]!
In the living room.
Illya silently mouthed: "Well?"
She’d agreed to bring him here precisely to confirm Souma’s true identity.
Twice before, she’d nearly been taken by the United States Council of Gods—once by that terrifying assassin, another ti when the [God of War] council mber ca personally.
But both tis, Naless had saved her.
Making it hard for even her to determine whether he’d co from the future to protect her.
Or was protecting her in his current youthful form.
"Can’t tell."
Heracles shook his head slightly.
The boy before him seed too ordinary, showing no special qualities whatsoever.
Illya watched the busy figure in the kitchen, her small face full of confusion.
Even Basaka couldn’t tell?
Could it be,
That after fighting to protect the world through countless resets, Naless had wished to beco an ordinary boy?
Don’t forget—in "Vow in the Snow," he’d fought through seven nights to save a collapsing world, then let Miyu enjoy an ordinary life.
Just then, the door opened as Roya returned triumphantly with her spoils.
She looked surprised at the giant man: "Oh, Illya’s here? And who’s this?"
"Basaka is my relative," Illya replied with a smile.
"Wow, you look so much like Heracles!"
Roya stared at him in amazent, the more she looked, the more she found the resemblance uncanny.
"Oh?" Heracles felt slightly puzzled.
He had deliberately layered multiple disguises—how could an ordinary girl see through them?
Roya couldn’t contain her excitent. "You do! You really do! You could totally cosplay as Heracles at a convention soday!"
"Cosplay as Heracles?"
Heracles’ expression turned odd. He didn’t know how to respond.
, playing myself?
Fortunately, she was just making casual conversation and hadn’t actually seen through his identity.
A small white cat passed by, glancing at him—
"Fou... Fou?" (Another Servant?)
Heracles frowned slightly.
This cat seed completely ordinary, yet sothing about it felt off.
He scanned the surroundings.
On a shelf in the distance lay what appeared to be a plain fox scarf.
No—
It was anything but ordinary!
That seemingly mundane scarf carried a faint but imnse surge of magical energy.
He studied the white cat again, sensing an overwhelmingly destructive power hidden beneath its unassuming appearance.
Even the golden-haired twin-tailed little girl before him exuded a peculiar aura.
This was getting more and more interesting.
Just how many extraordinary beings were hiding in this seemingly ordinary household?
Heracles’ smile widened.
Fascinating. Just as Illya had suspected.
That Naless—who had conquered gods, earned their favor, and slain the most terrifying foes—would naturally attract powerful beings, even in his guise as an ordinary boy.
After dinner, Illya decided to stay the night.
Since she and Roya were close friends, it wasn’t unusual.
Heracles, however, prepared to leave.
As a stranger, it would be inappropriate to overstay his welco.
Once the two girls went upstairs, Souma saw him to the door.
Standing beside the towering, muscular man made him feel a bit overwheld.
So, even Berserker suspects my identity?
Souma felt utterly resigned.
All he wanted was a peaceful, ordinary life—so why were Servants showing up one after another?
Just then, the giant man smiled faintly.
"I have a friend who loves using my na to do all sorts of things, making everyone think it was ."
"Uh... that’s really not cool of your friend," Souma replied awkwardly.
Back in the Olympus Singularity, he had borrowed Heracles’ na for quite a few exploits—
From petty theft early on, to slaying the boar alongside Atalanta, and even executing the hero who tried to steal the spoils—all under Heracles’ na.
Is this payback ti?
"Indeed. So, how should I thank my dear friend?"
Heracles looked down at him.
Becoming a legendary hero sung by thousands—Souma had played no small part in that.
Had it not been for the revelations in Alaya’s exposé videos, even he wouldn’t have known "he" had done so much!
"Ahem... I think, between friends, understanding is key," Souma coughed dryly.
Facing the person involved, I really felt like my actions weren’t quite proper.
It was as if a giant word appeared above my head again—
[Danger!]
Heracles gave a knowing smile: "You’re right, brothers should understand each other. So why didn’t you co to and explain?"
His aura suddenly surged, carrying an overwhelming, crushing pressure.
"..."
Souma didn’t know how to respond for a mont.
You, a mighty Heracles, clearly ca prepared—to deceive and ambush a seventeen-year-old kid like !
Is this fair?
Absolutely not!
No martial virtue at all!
Souma imdiately denied it three tis without hesitation: "Don’t spout nonsense! It wasn’t , I didn’t do it!"
Even if the other party ca knocking, denial had to co first. Otherwise, how could he explain all the bla he’d previously dumped on him?
"Heh, I knew it was you, Naless!" Heracles sneered.
???
Souma froze for a mont. How did he recognize ?
Kid, are you full of question marks right now?
"Didn’t you think about it? Could an ordinary person remain calm under my pressure?" Heracles cracked his knuckles, grinning with delight.
"Damn it!"
Souma nearly coughed up blood in frustration.
Damn, you—a thick-browed, big-eyed Berserker—why are you noticing such tiny details?
Shouldn’t your brain be entirely made of muscle?
Heracles wrapped his burly arm around Souma’s shoulder: "Since you have the relevant mories, this makes things easier. Shouldn’t we have a little chat?"
"Don’t be so friendly—people might misunderstand!"
***
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