Summoned as an SSS-Rank Hero… with My Stepmom and Stepsisters?! Chapter 38: Black Coffee, Bitter Crown

I stretched out to my full length, bones cracking like I was an old man at the end of his run. The dark stone ceiling echoed back my sigh, neutral, almost mocking. But damn... what a luxury. A room, all to myself. No Aya half-naked in the sa space. No sister ready to devour . Just , a bed that barely creaked, and... silence.

I grinned, dumb as a kid.

— "At least here, I’ve got my peace. I’ve needed that lately."

My peace. Yeah, peace my ass. But I clung to it, that stupid excuse. It made feel like I had the right to slow down, just a little. To breathe without soone reminding I was supposed to be a fucking hero.

I sat up, hair a ss, kimono still wrinkled from yesterday. My back creaked like a rusty hinge. Not glorious, but alive. And that was already sothing.

I sat cross-legged on the cold floor. The stone ripped a shiver out of , but my lungs soon matched the rhythm. Inhale. Exhale. The air vibrated differently here. Clearer. Denser. Mana brushed my skin like invisible golden dust. I felt the filants coil through my veins, slide into my lungs. Sharper than before. Since Duskfall, every ditation made feel like the world opened a little more.

A dry laugh clawed up my throat.

— "Shit... if Maeron saw , he’d say I finally turned into a diligent student."

I stood again, muscles stiff. A few push-ups, a short set, nothing special. My arms trembled quickly, compared to the monsters at the Academy who could probably lift boulders one-handed. But it was either that or feel even more useless. So I pushed on. Every rep burned my shoulders, but I bit into it like I was trying to prove sothing to the stone itself.

I finished with so pathetic stretches. My thighs were already screaming. Perfect. That ant I wasn’t dead.

The shower was a blessing. Hot water poured down my skin, tracing burning lines along my scars. The soap’s sll, plain, a little acidic, finally washed away the stench of sweat, blood, and cum still clinging to . I felt like I was peeling a layer of war off my skin. Every drop slid through my black hair, down my scarred cheek, and vanished into the drain as if it carried my mories away with it.

I stayed there longer than needed, eyes closed, savoring that liquid silence. It didn’t erase the nightmares, but fuck, it helped.

I dried quickly, pulled a clean kimono from the chest. The cracked mirror threw my reflection back at . A hollowed face. A single eye, ringed with shadows, gleaming with a hardness far too old for . Scars slashed across my skin, mories carved into flesh. A bitter smile crossed my lips as I slid my arms into the sleeves.

— "I look more like a survivor than a hero..."

I went down the steps, Aurelia tucked neatly into my kimono. The sll of burnt coffee and warm bread hit before my feet touched the stone tiles of the common hall. The morning racket already buzzed: nervous laughs, hurried whispers, cutlery scraping against stone.

And imdiately, I felt the stares.

The humans first. They straightened almost instantly, hands on their chests as if I were already so damn deity. So gave stiff nods, others whispered my na like it burned their throats. Too much respect. Way too much. I’d just survived... and shouted a little too loud yesterday.

The other races, though... different tune.

The elves, seated near the stained glass, lifted their icy eyes toward . Not a word, not a gesture. Just that silent contempt worth a thousand insults. Polite disdain, like I was a misplaced prop in the grand play of the world.

The dragons were more explicit. A dry chuckle cracked, followed by a deliberately loud murmur:

— "There goes the human who thinks he roars..."

Their fangs glead in torchlight, their massive shoulders blocked half the hall. Free intimidation.

The dwarves just shook their heads, their heavy braided beards swaying.

— "A brat," one of them growled, voice rough. "That won’t hold in a war."

The worst part was, I wasn’t even sure I could argue.

And then there were the ones who outright looked away. Faces taut, knotted with fear. Fear of . Not because I was strong. But because yesterday, I’d dared to stand up to the Headmistress and run my mouth in front of everyone. Fear suited even worse than contempt.

I clenched my teeth, forced myself forward. Damn it, this wasn’t a throne, just a coffee.

I picked a table off to the side, near a blackened stone pillar. A human waitress rushed up instantly, her tray trembling in thin hands. Her wide eyes shone with a mix of pride and dread.

— "M... Mister Kaito... what can I bring you?"

I almost burst out laughing. "Mister Kaito." Shit, I couldn’t even pay for my al yesterday without Miyu lending coins. But her gaze begged for a solemn answer, so I gave her a grave murmur:

— "A coffee. Plain."

She bowed, slipped away as if she’d just served an emperor.

I exhaled, rubbing my face.

— "... A coffee, huh? If it’s like in Duskfall, I’ll end up with black water that slls like sewage."

The drink ca fast. A rough stone cup, still steaming. I hesitated, took a sip. Bitter. Too bitter. But... fine.A bitter smile rose.

— "Damn... not as shitty as I thought."

I was almost enjoying that small reprieve when the sharp slap of paper on wood made flinch.

A newspaper had just landed in front of , folded tight, edges still wet with ink.

I looked up.

Reina.

Straight, frigid, her face hard as polished steel. No greeting, no smile. Her fingers left the paper like dropping a verdict, her black eyes locked on mine.

— "Look at this." Her voice cut sharp, relentless. "Congratulations, leader of the humans."

I dropped my eyes to the paper, already sure I’d regret opening it.

I pulled it closer, the rough paper scratching my fingers. The black ink had sared in places, but the headline shone like an insult in bold capitals:

"THE ROAR OF A HUMAN — A NEW LEADER FOR OUR RACE?!"

— "Fuck..." I muttered under my breath.

The article sprawled across two columns, a ss of grandiose phrases that made sick after the first lines.

"Yesterday, in the courtyard of the Draconic Academy, as the forr Headmistress herself tested thirteen new heroes, a human — a re human — dared to shatter the silence of the superior races. His words, carried by a voice burning with conviction, stirred the hearts of his peers. In an instant, history bent: Kaito, survivor of Duskfall, beca the embodint of human hope."

I nearly choked on my own spit. Embodint of human hope. Seriously? Yesterday I’d just scread because I refused to end up as a bug crushed under a thousand-year-old dragon’s claw. And now ink turned it into an epic.

Lower down, another line leapt at , underlined like a prophecy:

"Already, within the Academy, the human students are beginning to gather around him as their natural leader."

I lifted my head. The stares around suddenly made sense: the stiff salutes, the shining eyes, that silent expectation... They didn’t just see a comrade. They saw a fucking flag planted in their mud.

I dropped the paper, disgusted. But another column caught my eye. Not praise, no. Venom, carefully distilled. Signed by an elf columnist whose na sounded too polished to be real.

"What a pitiful cody the humans put on. Unable to rival with strength, they cling to fairground speeches, to hollow roars of pride. Let’s not be fooled: this so-called hero is nothing more than a jester entertaining his kind. If the Academy still tolerates their presence, it is out of diplomatic charity, not rit."

My fingers tightened on the paper. Heat crawled up my neck. I wanted to laugh, or maybe smash the table in half. But the truth was, the bastard had succeeded: his words made even doubt.

I tried to close the paper. Too late. The page quivered in my hands, a pale light flickered across the ink. And suddenly, the image moved.

My own silhouette appeared, in miniature, standing in the courtyard, Aurelia raised, voice thundering. My speech. My fucking speech from yesterday, replayed like a play.

I heard my voice echo, amplified, dramatic, almost ridiculous:

— "Rember this na!"

I shrank in my seat.

— "... Fuck. Magic, huh. Even here, I can’t escape the sha?!"

I slapped the paper flat, flipped it over like I’d crushed a cockroach. The silence in my throat was heavy with embarrassnt.

Reina said nothing. She stared, unyielding, her eyes as cold as the stone table. She’d seen it all. My discomfort, my twitching, my panic. And her silence was a judgnt.

Finally, she exhaled, icy:

— "Get ready. Because from today on... everyone’s going to expect you to be what you pretend to be."

I found nothing to reply. My mouth opened, shut. My fingers tapped nervously on the empty cup.

I just sighed, gaze drifting to the window, and muttered to myself:

— "Fuck... and I just wanted to drink my coffee in peace."