Chapter 8: Interlude – Martin’s Story

“Brother, are you really not going?”

A spacious room filled with extravagant decorations.

 Salem’s first princess, Isabella de Salem, gazed at her older brother from the bed, hugging a pillow with pleading eyes.

“It’s the Hero, you know! ‘That’ Hero! The reincarnation of our ancestor who saved the continent 500 years ago! How could you not want to go see that?”

“Isabella, I’ve told you many times before.”

A boy with light blonde hair sighed and spun his chair around to face Isabella.

“There is a proper order and procedure for everything. Until Father introduces us officially, we mustn’t act recklessly. Especially not for a meeting this important.”

His tone was low and seemed to be gently admonishing.

However, Isabella puffed out her cheeks like a blowfish, clearly dissatisfied with his response.

“Martin, you’re always saying that! Rules, rules, rules! If you love rules so much, why don’t you just marry them?!”

“But rules aren’t a person, so how could I possibly marry…”

“You’re not a person either! You’re a golem!”

With that, Isabella thumped the pillow with both hands. Martin rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

Normally, he would have given in with a reluctant sigh after such a tantrum. That’s how things usually went between Martin and Isabella: a spoiled younger sister and her brother constantly caught up in her whims.

But not this time. The person involved was just too significant.

“Listen carefully, Isabella. The Hero didn’t descend into this world for fun. She appeared to fight a battle so harsh we can’t even imagine it.

So, we mustn’t disrupt her training.”

Indeed, the girl chosen as the Hero was reportedly so diligent that she never skipped a day of sword practice or prayer.

She was so committed to her training that even the knights in charge of guiding her were left speechless. She even requested extended lessons of her own accord.

It was admirable, truly. How could a person be so dedicated? He could barely keep up with his assigned tasks without feeling overwhelmed…

“Again, again, and again with your boring talk!!!”

Isabella’s loud shriek brought Martin’s wandering thoughts back to the present.

“Why do you always say such tedious things, Brother? You were born as a prince everyone envies, yet you just hole up in your gloomy little room. Aren’t you even a bit bored?

 If it were me, I’d be out there, even out of sheer frustration!”

“Isabella, your brother is not as full of energy as you are…”

“Ugh, I don’t care!”

With that, Isabella jumped up from the bed.

“I’m going.”

“Going? Going where?”

“To meet the Hero!”

“What?!”

Martin, equally alarmed, sprang up from his seat.

“Wait, Isabella! Didn’t you hear what I just said? I told you not to interfere! What if she’s in the middle of something important?”

“As long as I don’t interfere, it’s fine! I’ll just watch from a distance!”

“Oh, sure you will! The moment you see her in person, you’ll get excited and run straight over!”

“Ugh… No, I won’t!”

“Yeah, right! You’ve always done that!”

Martin ground his teeth, recalling the many times he’d been dragged into trouble by this reckless little sister.

It wasn’t a joke; he’d lost count of how many times he’d been unfairly blamed because of her.

And now, he was supposed to believe she’d stay put? He’d sooner believe an orc would go vegetarian.

“No, seriously, if we get caught, Father will be furious. The matter of the Hero is no joke.”

“Then we just don’t get caught. Who do you think I am?”

“I mean, I know you’re good at magic, but…”

Martin sighed deeply.

Isabella’s troublesome trait was that, despite her childish personality, she was strangely clever. Her progress in magic was even faster than his, her older brother’s.

Is this what they call a genius?

“Anyway, I’m really going. And I won’t listen even if you try to stop me!”

“…”

It seemed Isabella had firmly made up her mind.

She must really want to see this newly chosen Hero. After all, she had always been a huge fan of Hero stories.

Martin, too, admired tales of heroes, so he could understand that feeling… but still…

“…Fine, I get it.”

After staring at his sister for a long time, Martin finally gave up and raised his hands in surrender.

“I’ll go with you. Is that good enough?”

“Really?! Yay!! You’re the best, Brother!!!”

Isabella jumped with joy.

“But,” Martin added sternly, “you absolutely cannot bother her. We’ll just watch from a distance and then come back. Got it?”

“Yes~~!”

If only she were always this agreeable, she’d be so cute.

 Martin gave a wry smile at his sister’s enthusiastic reply.

In the dead of night, when even the darkness seemed to slice through the sleeping forest, two shadows darted through a hidden path where not even moonlight could reach.

They were heavily cloaked in stealth and invisibility magic to avoid being detected by others.

“Are you sure it’s this way?”

“Of course. I confirmed everything with Scrying.”

Isabella nodded at Martin’s question, her feet moving swiftly without a pause.

‘In the end, I’ve come along, but what am I even doing…

I haven’t even finished the assignments my tutor gave me, and here I am, indulging in such a pointless outing. Should I just change my mind and go back?’

Martin thought this to himself, but seeing Isabella cheerfully humming and marching ahead, he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud.

She was so excited; if he suggested going back now, she wouldn’t speak to him for a week.

Besides… Martin was also curious to see what kind of person this Hero was.

‘From what I heard, she’s supposed to be a girl around Isabella’s age…

If she’s around Isabella’s age, that means she’s only about 8 or 9 years old.

A child who should be running around, playing, and experiencing the world as she grows.

At such a time in her life, this girl, called the Hero, has suddenly been burdened with the duty of saving the world.

What does she think about that? Does she find it overwhelming or even despise it?

Much like I do?

“…….”

At that thought, Martin suddenly stopped walking and looked down at himself.

As the ‘Crown Prince’ who would bear the future of Salem, Martin de Salem had never once felt he was suited for this position.

Even though he held a position that everyone envied, one that some would even shed blood to obtain.

The reason was simple: he didn’t want to be king.

‘I hate dealing with vassals. I hate that national affairs are determined by my decisions.’

He was, in other words, too timid and weak to be king. Furthermore, he had no grand ambitions to accomplish as king.

He only wished he could live a life secluded in the library, reading the books he loved.

It was a matter of inherent temperament, unaffected by effort or desire. Martin was simply born that way.

Why was someone like him the crown prince? Wouldn’t another person be more fitting?

Someone like his sister, who was always energetic and full of life…

“What are you doing, Oppa? Aren’t you coming?”

“Ah, yeah.”

While Martin had stopped walking, Isabella had already gotten quite a bit ahead and was waving at him. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he ran after her.

There was no point in worrying about this now. He’d already thought about it more times than he could count, but he always reached the same conclusion.

In the end, he was too weak to even resist his fate.

Surely, future historians would write about him as an incompetent and indecisive king.

…But what about the Hero?

“Yes! We’re here!”

Isabella let out a small cheer. She glanced around for a moment, then pointed in a certain direction and exclaimed.

“There! I found her, Brother!”

“Shh, don’t be so loud…”

Even as he whispered, Martin instinctively turned his gaze. He, too, was curious about what the Hero looked like, what she was doing…

And how she would carry the weight of the world on such young shoulders.

And then.

“Ah…”

For a moment, the world stopped.

A space where moonlight poured down like a waterfall, shimmering like a mirage within a pool of darkness. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath and step aside, creating a sacred sanctuary of life beyond compare.

Amidst that surreal, almost painting-like scenery, the girl sat quietly, her hands clasped together, her eyes closed.

“…”

“…”

Both of them were struck silent, overwhelmed by the sight.

The holy sword was planted vertically into the ground as if forming a cross. Before it, the girl offered a silent prayer to the goddess.

Her pure white dress and equally white silver hair captured the moonlight, glowing brilliantly. An untouchable tranquility and peace flowed in a solid form around her.

It was a space where time seemed to have stopped, without the slightest movement.

There was no need for any warning not to disturb her. Neither Martin nor Isabella had the courage to ruin such a scene.

“Amazing… So that’s the Hero…”

“……”

Isabella murmured in awe and admiration, then looked at her brother standing beside her and asked,

“See? Aren’t you glad we came?”

“…”

“Brother?”

“…..”

What does it take for a boy to fall in love?

It doesn’t require a grand effort. Just one moment is enough.

A single moment of a scene that will never be forgotten in a lifetime.

He experienced that truth firsthand.

“Brother? Are you okay? Your cheeks are red.”

“…Ah, yeah.”

Martin raised his arm to cover his face as he replied.

“…”

Suddenly, he began to feel incredibly embarrassed.

Despite being younger than him, that girl had been given a far greater responsibility and was handling it with composure. She wasn’t running away; she was facing it head-on.

And what about him? What did he amount to? Why did he have so many complaints, even though he was much older than her?

He felt ashamed—so ashamed that he could hardly stand it.

His very existence, his values, his attitude toward life, and everything about him.

“…Let’s go back.”

“What, already? But I want to watch a little longer…”

“That’s enough.”

Martin grabbed the whining Isabella and moved away from the girl.

He felt he had no right to be near her. No, he didn’t even have the right to look at such sanctity with his own eyes.

The difference in the quality of their souls was that great. It was painfully clear.

At least, for now.

But in the future?

“…”

At that moment, a spark ignited in the heart of a boy that had been reduced to ashes.

Even if it was just a slim possibility, that was fine. Even if it required excruciating effort and willpower, that was fine too.

As long as he could someday stand as her equal, facing her with his shoulders back… if he could look into her eyes without a trace of shame…

If he could do that, he—

“Your Highness! Princess! Where are you?!”

A voice called out from not far away; it was the sound of their escort knight, desperately searching for them.

Martin (holding onto Isabella, who was trying to run away) headed toward the direction of the voice.

“Ah, there you are! We’ve been looking for you for so long—”

“I’m sorry for worrying you. I was just taking a nighttime stroll with my sister.”

“A nighttime stroll…?”

The knight, who was about to scold them, fell silent the next moment when he saw Martin’s eyes.

They were different from usual, filled with a determined resolve.

“By the way, Sir Frederick, is there any chance I could see Father right now?”

“Your Majesty? Why suddenly…?”

“I have something important I want to say.”

Martin smiled softly as he said this.

“For instance, maybe to ask if my workload could be doubled starting tomorrow.”

Two hours earlier—

-“Hey, Sion.”

“What?”

-“Why did you come all the way into this deserted forest? And what are you doing right now?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m meditating to gather magical power.”

-“Meditating?”

“Yes. This is the place with the highest concentration of magical energy in the royal palace, no, in all of Ashtaria.

So, while I’m here, I’m trying to absorb as much of it into my body as possible to increase my stored magical power.”

-“Huh… But do you really have to do it in that position? It looks like your legs would hurt…”

“Hmm? Not really. The position doesn’t matter much… As long as you can properly concentrate, it doesn’t make a difference whether you sit in a lotus position or lie down flat.”

-“Then why are you taking that prayer position?”

“Well, this way, everyone thinks I’m sincerely praying to the goddess, right? If I’m going to gather magical power, I might as well take advantage of that, too.

 Image making, you see, image making. The clergy types are always into this mystical vibe.”

-“Seriously, you’re the worst…”

“What? It’s just practical.”