Chapter 86
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Chapter 86
Crunch.
Karha took a bite of the scone.
After chewing thoughtfully for a moment, he found the taste satisfactory and held it out toward Chesa.
Nom nom.
Chesa naturally nibbled at the corner of the scone Karha offered her.
The round scone now bore two distinct bite marks—one large and one small.
"How is it?"
"Delicious!"
"Should I spread some cream on it?"
"Jam instead."
"Mm."
Karha generously slathered the scone with apple jam and clotted cream before offering it back to Chesa.
Chesa didn't lift a finger, simply accepting whatever Karha prepared for her.
He even went so far as to dab away any crumbs that clung to her lips with a napkin.
As a result, Chesa truly had nothing to do.
'He's doing this on purpose.'
Of course, Karha had always been attentive to Chesa's needs.
But now, a hint of competitive spirit seemed to be at work as well.
Chesa eagerly tore into her scone with her small mouth, casting a sidelong glance across the table.
There sat Hailon, sipping his tea with an air of dignified composure.
The uniform he had torn away in the Illusion Realm was now impeccably restored.
His attire was flawless, as always—not a single petal out of place.
He lowered his gaze as he drank, then lifted it slightly.
When his eyes met Chesa's, a faint smile bloomed across his icy features.
Upon seeing Hailon's smile, Karha behaved like an enraged colt.
"Stop smiling, would you?"
His demeanor suggested he might leap forward to bite at any moment.
Hailon set down his teacup and replied indifferently.
"Even the radiant Emperor of the Palen Empire would lack the authority to compel another to suppress their smile."
The implication was clear: who are you to give orders?
Karha's expression grew even more indignant as he cried out.
"That's exactly why—you keep smiling at someone else's child!"
"Why such concern, Karha? Surely you smile because the young lady is adorable."
Theo, unaware of the complex history between House of Basilian and the Sacred Empire Heresy Inquisitor, remained innocently guileless.
In his small hands, Theo held an equally diminutive teacup and beamed widely.
"When I catch the young lady's eye, I cannot help but smile either. Is she not utterly precious?"
"...."
Karha covered his eyes with his hand for a moment.
Whenever Theo spoke like that, Karha lost all his fighting spirit.
Karha's already sharp eyes narrowed into slits as he pulled Chesa, who sat upon his lap, into a tight embrace.
"I appreciate your help."
"I didn't help you."
Hailon drew a clear line.
"I merely fulfilled my duty as the child's escort knight."
How much longer would I have to tolerate this temporary escort arrangement?
'Since I'm certain he's connected to Lichesia, he'll never willingly leave my side from now on.'
I wondered what excuse he would use to cling to me once the Pure Child Prayer Ceremony ended.
Karha glared at Hailon.
Perhaps because nothing was going his way today, the boy seemed a bit prickly.
Theo, the round and cuddly one, stepped forward to mediate the atmosphere.
He brought up a different topic.
"I never knew the Basilian Family had connections with a Holy Knight, and one from the First Rank Holy Knight Order no less. That's quite impressive."
Theo gazed at Hailon with admiring eyes.
"When I was young, my dream was to become a Holy Knight too. The uniform is so cool, you see. I even imagined receiving a sacred relic from the Holy King."
Theo said shyly that he had wanted Rubeus's Spear.
His approach of offering unremarkable praise to the master of the house was rather skillful.
The only problem was that such praise didn't sit well with the master.
Hailon had received a sacred relic and become subordinate to the Holy Empire.
In name only—in reality, he was no different from a dog on a leash.
As I recalled the scars that remained on his back and glanced at him, his eyes had indeed dimmed slightly.
He didn't show it outwardly, but he clearly didn't want to discuss it.
Only the oblivious Theo continued speaking with a grin.
"If it's not too much trouble, could I ask for a sparring match later? Karha, have you ever sparred with the Holy Knight...?"
"No, I haven't. We're not close."
It was then that Karha was busily obstructing Theo's attempt to lighten the mood.
Hailon, who had been silent, suddenly opened his mouth.
"You could use some training."
At the abrupt words, Theo, Chesa, and Karha all froze for a moment.
Hailon trampled on Karha's pride with an expressionless face.
"You are weak, Karha Basilian."
He asked.
"How much longer will you keep running away?"
***
My twin brother differed from me in every conceivable way, from head to toe.
The only thing we shared was the crimson hue of our eyes.
Our appearances and preferences were so diametrically opposed that calling us twins felt almost embarrassing.
Yet I had never once failed to understand Ishuel.
What he felt in his heart, what occupied his thoughts.
A single glance into his eyes was enough for me to grasp it all.
I could always discern what Ishuel desired.
It was an intuition born from the connection we shared as twins.
But recently, Ishuel had become...
Someone I could no longer quite comprehend.
The turning point came when he suddenly began earnestly studying magic—the very art he had once insisted was beneath him, declaring he would sooner die than learn it.
I thought my twin brother had lost his mind.
When I asked him why, Ishuel gave me a terse reply.
"Desperation."
It made no sense whatsoever.
Yet watching Ishuel walk the path of a mage with such dedication stirred something strange within me.
Ever since a new sibling entered the Basilian Family.
Kieran, Belzeon, Ishuel...
Each of them had begun advancing toward their own distinct purposes.
I felt as though I alone had been left behind.
So I threw myself into sword training with renewed fervor.
It was what I loved most, after all.
Yet I found myself constantly feeling inadequate.
Swordsmanship was my refuge.
Whenever I felt the turbulent swell of emotions I could not bear, I wielded my blade.
I would storm into the Black Forest and slaughter every monster in sight, or rampage through the Underworld as an executioner.
Then the turmoil in my heart would settle into stillness.
Thanks to this, I became a boy indifferent to all things.
My life was, in its own way, serene.
That is, until the baby entered my world.
After meeting the child, I began to feel an inexplicable sense of longing.
I found myself entertaining thoughts I had never entertained before.
'If only I were stronger.'
I was abundantly powerful, and I had never known the sting of defeat.
But as I spent time with the baby, I found myself constantly confronting my limits.
I witnessed helplessness unfold before my eyes, again and again.
Sometimes it was a matter of the disparity in power.
But there were also moments when my own strength proved insufficient.
The moment when I had to watch the Heretic Inquisitor of the Holy Empire and Kieran clash in battle still clung to my mind with bitter clarity.
From that point onward, I devoted myself even more intensely to the sword.
Yet emotions that would normally dissipate after a few sword swings grew increasingly turbulent.
They gnawed at me relentlessly, dark and suffocating.
It wasn't simply a desire to grow stronger.
An inexplicable dissatisfaction, whose source even I couldn't fathom, was gradually driving me toward the precipice.
Days passed in endless wandering, unable to find answers.
And today, I felt that same displeasure rising within me.
Regardless of the opponent being royalty.
Relying on my younger sister to escape, hiding beneath the protection of the Heretic Inquisitor whom I despised—it was utterly repugnant.
A fury that no amount of swordplay could dispel.
What was I supposed to do in moments like these?
I was tormented by my own helplessness, unable to find a solution.
"How long will you keep running away?"
Until the Heretic Inquisitor's question pierced my heart.
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