I Am the Hero's Immature Younger Brother

After the court meeting ended, Ragniel stepped outside to get some air.

After refusing Giselle’s offer to accompany him and sending him away, the place Ragniel headed for was a small garden with a fountain.

No matter how much he said he wanted to be alone, there was no way the king of a nation could truly be alone. Especially since Ragniel’s power was weak. He had been a puppet king from the start. From the days of the regent king until now.

“I wish to be alone.”

“But, Your Majesty.......”

After barely managing to send away the chamberlain, who tried to stop him at once, Ragniel was finally able to feel his surroundings grow quiet with only one attendant accompanying him. The chamberlain led the attendants twenty paces back, while the one attendant left beside him stood where Ragniel could see him.

When would he be able to be completely alone?

The only time Ragniel could be alone was when he visited his office late at night.

Three times wherever his feet took him, five times along the fixed path.

No one knew that one of the places included in that “fixed path” was Ragniel’s bedroom. The knight who had occasionally seen Ragniel come out at dawn and enter his room had kept silent about it, but everyone who could know already knew. Somewhere inside Ragniel’s room, there was a secret chamber that led outside.

But some merely believed the knight’s guard had been lax, and that poor young King Ragniel suffered from sleepwalking.

If he did not want them digging too deeply, he had to use it less.

That was why Ragniel came out to the garden like this from time to time.

The wide-open sky was only high above, and yet, when he looked up at it from the royal castle, he could not understand why it seemed square. A heavy suffocation pressed down on Ragniel’s chest.

He looked down at himself, wavering in the reflection of the fountain. An impression far too delicate for the king of a nation, a face beautifully refined, but nothing more. For eyes like these, with emotion rippling through them, would love poems not suit them better than talk of politics?

“Your Majesty, the wind is cold.”

“I am fine.”

The last snow of winter had fallen, and the snow that had settled over the royal castle had not yet melted.

During the day, it seemed as though spring had come striding close and the cold had subtly withdrawn.

But the nights were still cold. The chill brushed past and slipped into Ragniel’s chest.

Yet Ragniel liked this cold air. It felt as though it was telling him to pull himself together. And also....... It eased his guilt.

He...... had no choice. He had to send his Seven Stars back to the battlefield.

The letter the spy had brought contained what had been bound to come someday.

A large number of people have been dispatched to the kingdom to search for the treasure revealed in the oracle. That much he already knew. The line beneath it made Ragniel’s heart drop.

Signs of food procurement and weapons imports have been detected. Movement along the border is unusual, and they appear willing to risk war in order to find the treasure.

Ragniel squeezed his eyes shut.

In the end, the Heroes again.......

Giselle would say it was only natural. None of the Heroes would resent Ragniel for it.

He had resolved to let them live their own lives.

His resolution had fallen apart before even a year had passed.

He dipped his hand into the fountain. The icy water clenched painfully around the bones of his fingers. Trembling even from this small pain. Ragniel could not possibly picture the ghastly battlefield where blades met and lives hung in the balance. How sharply blood-colored blades would come aiming for life, how the Heroes would preserve their own lives.

“Your Majesty. You should go inside now.”

“Yes. Ten minutes. Let us stay just a little longer.”

Sending away the chamberlain who had approached again, Ragniel put both hands into the fountain. His cuffs grew wet, and the water dropped by the baby angel splashed up, leaving droplets on Ragniel’s face.

Contrary to Ragniel’s worries, the Heroes would probably be safe. Their bodies would not allow their flesh to collapse. That was precisely the authority bestowed by god.

Only, the Heroes who returned from the battlefield again...... his friends, his most precious treasures.......

“Could they possibly remain sane?”

The day he had welcomed the Heroes back to the kingdom after the seven-year war ended still remained in Ragniel’s mind, vivid as a burn scar.

Hollow eyes, like watching castle walls collapse. In those empty eyes, where nothing remained, all meaning had vanished, and only the silent snow falling over an open wasteland was reflected like a mirror. Breaking, scattering, barely piling up only to melt away in a few days. Only that snow layered itself in their gazes, again and again.

Several days passed, and the snow stopped.

By the time the half-melted, gray-stained snow was swept away by the servants’ brooms.

Sunlight and warmth seeped back into their eyes again.

But Ragniel could not be certain they had gotten better.

Had that emptiness truly...... vanished cleanly? Had the reek of blood from the battlefield and the eyes of the countless lives they had taken been wiped away without a trace?

That could not be possible. Even for Heroes.

Ragniel’s face sank darker and darker.

As though the aching sensation of skin and bone freezing in the cold water was not his own. He did not move at all, as if deliberately trying to endure the pain.

Ragniel remembered the prophecy of the Sorse girls.

He had not made those weighty words known, following Giselle’s advice.

But now, it troubled him. Perhaps because the direction indicated by the prophecy about the treasure connected with that prophecy.

The Heroes’ lifespans were. Around thirty.

They paid for an authority humans could not bear with their lives.

The treasure the prophecy indicated...... those outside the kingdom would think of anti-Hero weapons, but according to their conjecture, it was something that would extend the Heroes’ lives. Something that would make his Seven Stars even more perfect.

“That cannot happen. I must let them be free now.”

Ragniel’s own voice seemed to laugh inside his head.

For an instant, his face reflected in the rippling water wore an unfamiliar smile.

Startled, Ragniel leaned backward and misplaced his foot. In a single moment, he lost his balance and fell back, bracing himself against the ground with his hand.

“Ugh!”

“Your Majesty!”

A sharp pain shot up through his palm. Swallowing a groan, Ragniel staggered to his feet.

“Your Majesty! Are you all right? Your Majesty!”

Call the royal physician—! the chamberlain shouted loudly. Ragniel, his face gone white as if he had seen a ghost, staggered toward the fountain. As though there were something terrifying inside that water.

But the chamberlain, daring to block the king’s path, said he had to go be treated at once and led Ragniel away. Afraid of what might be inside it, Ragniel could not bring himself to check and turned his steps away.

Behind him as he left the garden, he heard the sound of quiet conversation.

As though someone had opened a balcony door, a chattering voice rang out clearly.

Ragniel stopped walking and looked up toward the source of the sound.

“......Who is staying in that room?”

Ragniel asked, calming his startled breath.

A young boy’s voice. The playful, babbling voice was different from Ragniel’s memory, but the tone was the same.

Seeing Ragniel’s puzzled expression, an attendant stepped forward and answered.

“Your Majesty. The younger brother of Hero Temar is staying in that room.”

“Ah. Is that so.”

Ragniel stopped where he was and quietly stared at the balcony.

His expression could not be seen well, hidden in darkness, but the soft, bright light that seemed to pour out from the room was wrapped around him. Bright blond hair gently holding the chandelier’s light. Laughter Ragniel had never once been able to hear when facing him reached his ears.

Beside the bright blond boy, he could see an old man with white hair streaking through it, wearing a robe pulled over himself.

“And that man?”

“I hear he is Ren’s guest, a physician who lived with him since the village. I was told Hero Geloman searched for him after he came to the capital and found him.”

“Ah. I see. How kind.”

With a lonely smile, Ragniel stood still despite the chamberlain’s urging and listened to the sound of Ren’s voice.

***

“Grandpa! Are you even listening to me?”

Ren whined, tugging on the old man’s clothes.

When Ren said he wanted to go out for a walk, the old apothecary had soothed him by saying it was late, so they should just get some air on the balcony. Yet instead of getting any air, he was looking past the balcony at the dimly damp garden and the people passing through it. Of course, he wore such a calm, sightseeing expression that Ren did not notice at all.

“I said I’m listening, you little rascal. You’ve become nothing but spoiled.”

His tone sounded as if he were scolding Ren, but his actions were nothing like it. The old apothecary gently stroked Ren’s head as he acted like a cat. He seemed to hesitate before touching him, but after stroking him once or twice, he appeared to grow very used to it.

“What are you looking at?”

When Ren tried to poke his head suddenly over the balcony, the old man stopped him.

“But why do you keep wearing that robe? Isn’t it stuffy, Grandpa?”

“Hoho. Ren. This old man is old, so I must be careful of the cold wind.”

“Ugh, what is that! You sound like a total old man!”

Ren made a disgusted face and acted annoyed, then saw the old man’s wrinkled face and clamped his mouth shut.

“Why are you making that face again?”

“Can’t you just not get old?”

“Ren. What are you worried about?”

The old man carefully cupped Ren’s cheek. Resting his face against that large hand, Ren stared silently at the old man.

Seeing that Ren could not readily answer, the old apothecary laughed plainly.

“Ren. I will do everything I can to cure your illness, but as things stand, I have no choice but to live far longer than you.”