Ch.102Ideal (3)

My sister didn’t play the games I played.

She didn’t play many games except for drawing games, mainly ones famous for farming and healing, and another known for building in a world made of blocks.

My sister didn’t particularly enjoy online games.

I think it was because she was the one who kept track of our household finances and knew best how tight our budget was.

As a result, she wasn’t familiar with multiplayer games.

Even things considered common knowledge and accepted as standard in games were like an unfamiliar culture to her.

In other words, my sister doesn’t realize she just trolled.

Even if she found out we were siblings and I told her, “Sis, you just trolled,” she would probably respond:

“Troll? Isn’t that a monster with high regeneration? What do you mean?”

No, it’s not just probable—it’s 100% certain.

Of course, I couldn’t blame her for not understanding.

She was the only one who recognized that pounding sound as language, while the rest of the party didn’t even seem to realize it was language at all.

Even I only noticed it was language entirely thanks to the status window.

I’d seen the translation function several times before, knew what it was, and had confirmed how accurate it was.

Without that? I probably would have just thought, “Wow, as expected of sis. So fierce.”

So I knew exactly how I needed to respond now.

“As expected of you, Sister. Your hands are quick.”

“…Ah, um, yes, there was a reason for that.”

My sister responded with a bright smile. She pretended to be embarrassed, but it was obvious she was wondering if I had heard something.

“What should we do about those?”

The monsters were staring blankly at the exploded heart. Their gazes slowly turned toward us, and I clenched and unclenched my fist.

“Let’s clean this up quickly.”

The battle that followed was completely one-sided.

I charged to the front lines, tearing through legs, arms, elbows, knees, and fingers, while Lorian filled the gaps with crimson flashes of his sword.

My sister wielded the Star Blade with both hands. Her swordsmanship was cruel enough to make it clear that, though flashy, her sword wasn’t designed for beauty like Melody’s.

It was swordsmanship for precise and merciless killing. In martial arts novels, it would rightfully be called a “killing sword”—yet it showed extremely high skill.

I recognized some of her techniques, but there was no point in analyzing them. It’s not like I was going to fight my sister.

Beside her, Melody swung her contrastingly elegant sword.

The battlefield was illuminated with a variety of styles: Lorian’s solid, fundamental swordsmanship; my sister’s killing blade dripping with murderous intent; and Melody’s duelist school techniques.

The cleanup ended quickly.

Toward the end, we focused less on covering each other’s blind spots and more on quickly eliminating enemies.

I dusted off my hands in the cavern soaked with blood and strewn with death.

Bits of flesh from what were once human beings fell from between my fingers, and when I shook my head, blood splattered in all directions.

“Luvellin. Come here.”

While my sister and Melody swept the area and dispersed magical energy for cleanup, I had nothing to do. As I was trying to wipe the blood stuck in my hair, Lorian approached.

Having removed his blood-formed armor, looking somewhat tired, he pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and reached toward my face.

His care reminded me of my sister, especially when I was in elementary school.

So I stayed still as Lorian wiped away the blood and flesh from my face.

“You’re unusually docile. Did the rampage put you in a good mood?”

“No, just… there’s no reason for you to hurt me anyway.”

“If you were to list the people in this world least likely to harm you, I would be at the very top of that list.”

With a smirk, Lorian stood on tiptoes as he wiped my eyes, rubbed my cheeks, and cleaned under my chin.

I found his touch comforting and fell into thought.

Specifically, about the message the heart had shown just before.

At first, I thought the message was directed at me.

It mentioned betrayal, didn’t it?

If I had been given power and care only to betray, I would have no right to complain about being called a traitor.

But that didn’t seem to be the case. I recalled the bitter smile my sister had made after throwing the axe, and her words.

‘I know.’

My sister had understood what the heart was saying even faster than the status window’s translation.

That’s why she quickly attacked and neutralized the heart.

She didn’t seem afraid that someone might understand it.

Of course, being my sister, she must have had her reasons.

Perhaps there was some controlling power at work, like what had controlled the Red Beast Hertol.

Above all, I trusted my sister.

But I still had some questions that couldn’t be erased.

If the heart’s words about “betrayal” weren’t directed at me but at my sister…

Did it mean she had betrayed our mother?

Was leaving the Emperor and fleeing the Empire for the New Continent considered betrayal?

Or was that thing merely bound to our mother, rather than being our mother herself?

I couldn’t tell. But I couldn’t ask either.

“You’re deep in thought. What are you thinking about?”

“…Just wondering what we should do next.”

“Well, seeing something like that would make anyone thoughtful. Plus there’s the matter of Isla’s brother.”

Lorian took back the handkerchief he’d used to clean my face and made a slight gesture, causing the blood and flesh on it to float up and then splash onto the floor.

…If he could do that, why didn’t he just use blood magic to remove it directly from my face instead of wiping it?

Lorian noticed my expression and smirked.

“It’s a hobby.”

“What kind of hobby is that?”

I sighed, and Lorian tucked the now-clean handkerchief back into his pocket and added:

“Well, anyway. Whatever decision you make, I’ll be with you. You’re already practically the master of my fate.”

“…That’s really cringeworthy.”

“The future of my bloodline depends on it.”

“What are you talking about?”

While we were bickering, my sister returned.

“Nothing important. We were just… discussing what to do next.”

“Ah, right. That’s why I came. Sorry, I forgot.”

My sister approached with a bright smile. Behind her, I saw Melody shaking her sword clean before sheathing it.

“So, what do you plan to do?”

“…I’m thinking of gathering everyone when we get back and discussing it.”

“Still no plan, huh?”

“That’s right.”

There were no dangers on our way back out of the cave.

In truth, it wasn’t easy to decide on a simple course of action.

The enemy was the world itself, and there was nothing to gain from fighting.

At best, we might win freedom that might not have existed in the first place, and glory that no one would celebrate.

Two things I didn’t particularly like.

I played only one champion in one lane constantly because I enjoyed being praised, liked, and admired by people.

But not fighting wasn’t an option either.

If the enemy was the world, and the world hated us, it simply meant our chances of survival were very slim.

So we had to fight. But what were we hoping for, what were we aiming for?

My head was spinning with these thoughts. There was so much to consider.

“Heavy swordsmanship is the right path to pursue. It works even against large and powerful enemies.”

“Hmph, how typical. How is that any different from being a monster? The larger and more powerful the enemy, the more you should counter with human cunning and technique.”

As I remained quiet, Melody and Lorian started their own conversation.

Perhaps it was because Lorian used a heavy two-handed executioner’s blade while Melody used a typical estoc-type sword.

Their opinions were completely opposite. Personally, I was closer to thinking, “If you have strength, do you really need technique?”

But that applied to me because I was a monster beyond a homunculus, an immortal. For normal humans, technique would probably be better.

“Hey.”

Just as I was thinking that either could be considered correct, I was pulled from my thoughts by my sister poking my side with her long index finger.

“What’s your favorite food?”

It was a somewhat random question. And a difficult one to answer.

Was she testing me?

“Well, I haven’t been produced for very long, so I don’t really have a favorite food.”

“Really? If you had to choose something, what would it be?”

“Are you offering to make something?”

“Yes, I’m quite confident in my cooking.”

My sister’s cooking.

It’s been so long that I’m not entirely sure, but my sister’s cooking skills weren’t bad.

Rather, they were better than most people her age.

But given our circumstances, the variety was very limited—the closest thing to Western food we had was pasta.

Cheap sauce, cheap noodles. But tasty.

I remember eating it often. It got even better after my sister started working part-time at a related job.

But I couldn’t just answer “noodle dishes” straightforwardly.

It was obvious that my sister was testing me.

“Well… I like stews. Isla makes them often, so I’ve grown to like them.”

“Stews.”

“Grilled meat is nice too.”

“…Meat.”

I could feel my sister’s responses getting shorter as I listed preferences that weren’t really mine. But I still didn’t mention the foods my sister used to make for me, not wanting to give myself away.

“But in my position, I can’t be picky about food.”

My sister slightly raised her head and looked at me.

“I’d be grateful for anything you make. I’m sure whatever you cook will be delicious.”

My sister quietly turned her head away at my words. She blinked and stared blankly into space, but her pace didn’t slow.

She just walked alongside me.

“What do you want to do?”

My sister asked me. It didn’t sound like a simple question.

There was a subtle certainty in her tone. After hesitating briefly, I opened my mouth.

“I don’t know. What about you, Sister?”

In response to my counter-question, my sister clasped her hands behind her back and walked with long, cheerful strides.

“Originally, I wanted to do many different things.”

And so my sister began a story with an uncertain conclusion.

“Not because I wanted to… but because I thought I had to.”

My sister wasn’t looking at me. She was staring blankly into space as if reminiscing about a distant past.

Her steps were firm and her back straight and dignified, but…

Somehow I had the thought that my sister might not be as strong and mature as I knew her to be.

“But recently, things have changed.”

“Changed how?”

“I want to make this a place where we can be happy.”

I thought that perhaps my sister hadn’t been happy on Earth.

Raising a brother who was nothing but a burden, spending her youth and entire life working to support that brother…

It wouldn’t be strange for her to want happiness here now.

I should definitely keep hiding that I’m her brother.

“I’m sure you can be happy, Sister. You have a good personality and strength…”

“No.”

As I was speaking, trying to hide the bitterness rising within me, I felt my sister gently grab my forearm, and I stopped to look at her.

My sister was facing me.

I could clearly see myself reflected in her gray eyes.

“I want to make this a place where you can be happy too.”

Then she smiled brightly and walked away.

Looking at my sister’s back, I intuitively understood something.

That she wouldn’t test me anymore.

That she would just wait.

I couldn’t muster the courage and only moved my lips slightly. That was all.