Zenith Greyrat was born in the Holy Kingdom of Millis, a nation with a long history, so beautiful and rigid that the word purity fit it like a glove. She came into the world as the second daughter of a count's household—in other words, a young lady from a good family.
One of the Church of Millis's teachings was that a man and woman should love only each other, one at a time. Though Zenith had run away from home, that doctrine drilled into her since childhood remained deeply rooted within her. That's why, one day, she told Paul that if he didn't touch any other woman, then he could sleep with her. He surprised me and helped.
Zenith knew he was lying to her. But I thought she didn't care. If he cheated, then she could stop loving him. Back then she was also naive, reckless, and foolish. Because from that one time, she ended up pregnant.
She didn't know what to do. Anxiety invaded her.
It never occurred to her that Paul would take responsibility and marry her. And so came the day of childbirth. The birth of her children was a moment she would never forget.
When the first baby was born, a boy with hair black as night and eyes red as rubies, Zenith looked at him and felt an overwhelming wave of instant love.
His unusual appearance didn't matter to her at all. He was her baby, her precious son, and she loved him from the first second. Daiki's unique features were never cause for doubt or concern for her.
That day her sons were born: Daiki Greyrat, with black hair and red eyes, and Rudeus Greyrat, with his father's brown hair and green eyes. Both perfect, both hers.
Now, three years later, she was tucking in her little ones, with a big smile and pride.
"Good night, my little ones." She kissed their foreheads and gently closed the door.
- -
They shared the same room. Two small beds, side by side.
Zenith had tucked them in, kissed their foreheads, and gently closed the door. Like every night since they were born.
Rudeus was asleep.
Well, mumbling.
And not in this world's language.
Daiki lay awake, staring at the ceiling with his characteristic red eyes. He listened as Rudeus began to murmur.
"んん... やめて..." *(Nn... yamete...)* Stop.
More unintelligible murmurs. Words choked before fully forming.
"トラック... 学生..." *(Torakku... gakusei...)* Truck... student.
Daiki's internal system processed the information:
[CONFIRMATION: JAPANESE]
[CONTEXT: POSSIBLE DEATH MEMORY]
‹ Truck. Student. Died saving someone from a truck. ›Daiki thought with the analytical coldness that characterized his mind.
His own death had been similar. Same fate. Two Japanese souls ending up under metal wheels.
Rudeus woke with a start, agitated. His hands frantically patted his entire body. Frantic. Desperate. As if he couldn't believe this new life was possible. As if he expected to wake up in that previous body he hated so much, trapped again in that flesh that had been his prison.
Daiki watched him in silence. Without moving.
Rudeus touched his belly. Flat. Small. His fingers pressed against the fabric as if he needed physical confirmation.
And Daiki saw something in his eyes.
Relief.
[RUDEUS: OBESITY IN PREVIOUS LIFE - CONFIRMED]
[MY ANALYSIS INDICATES EVOLUTION AFTER REINCARNATION]
Rudeus looked at Daiki. Just for a second. But it was enough to search for what he expected to find in those crimson eyes.
Disgust. Mockery. Pity.
He found none of that.
"Rudeus? Are you okay?" Daiki asked, approaching his bed.
"Yeah... I. Sorry if I woke you."
[RUDEUS HAS ELEVATED NERVOUSNESS]
‹ Who are you? ›
Daiki thought, addressing the system.
[I AM YOUR CREATION, DAIKI]
System silence.
"I was already awake, Rudeus. Don't worry... I can tell you're nervous. Are you okay?"
Rudeus closed his eyes.
"I... No, it's about my past life." His voice cracked slightly. "One of the reasons why I don't go outside with you..."
"Do you want to talk about it?" It was the only thing Daiki's mind could process. He wasn't used to talking about feelings with anyone. In his previous life, those kinds of conversations simply... didn't exist.
"You see, I died saving three students from a truck..." Rudeus began, but stopped. He was afraid to continue.
"That was heroic. It's not bad, quite the opposite. You risked your life for people you didn't know."
Rudeus let out a bitter laugh. Too bitter for a three-year-old.
"Heroic." He repeated the word like it was poison. "If you only knew..."
‹The Weight of the Past›
More than ten years of shame. Of self-hatred. Of being exactly the kind of trash that society avoids and forgets.
Of dragging an existence that didn't even deserve to be called life.
Rudeus knew Daiki was aware of his reincarnation. Knew he'd died saving someone.
‹But he doesn't know WHO I really was. ›
Didn't know what kind of trash he was. What kind of human waste occupied that body before a truck tore it to pieces.
And that... that was eating him alive.
Because Daiki had sounded so... impressed. "Heroic," he'd said about his death. As if he were someone worthy of respect. As if that last act erased decades of filth. As if one second of bravery was worth more than years rotting in a dark room.
As if death washed away the shit.
‹If he knew the truth...›
His stomach twisted just thinking about it.
"You can't sleep." It wasn't a question from Daiki.
Rudeus didn't respond. Didn't trust his voice.
"Your breathing. Too irregular. You've been awake for hours." A pause. "You can talk to me, brother."
‹ Brother. ›
That word hurt now. Hurt more than it should, as if someone were squeezing something rotten inside his chest. Because in his previous life, his siblings had hated him. They'd kicked him out of the house after their parents' funeral, while he was still unwashed, reeking of days locked inside.
And they'd had every reason in the world to do it.
More reason than they'd ever know.
‹ How long until Daiki does the same? ›
‹ How long until he looks at me for what I am? ›
"Rudeus." Daiki sat on his bed. Even in the darkness, Rudeus could feel his gaze fixed on him. "Whatever you're thinking, say it. Secrets between us are over, remember?"
"Not... not all secrets." Rudeus whispered in Japanese.
A moment of silence. Long. Heavy.
"Then tell me."
"You don't want to know." Rudeus squeezed his eyes shut, as if that could stop what was coming.
"Let me decide that," Daiki responded calmly.
Rudeus closed his eyes tight. So tight he saw colored spots behind his eyelids. His hands clenched into fists on the sheets.
"When I told you about my death... you sounded impressed." The words came out broken, barely a thread of voice. "Like it was noble or something."
"It was. You saved three students."
"That doesn't erase over ten years of shit." The words came out with bitterness, like bile. "Doesn't erase who I was. What I was. What I did."
Daiki didn't respond. Just waited.
And that wait was worse than any judgment. Worse than screaming. Worse than contempt.
Because it meant Daiki really wanted to listen.
That he wasn't going to let him escape.
Rudeus took a shaky breath. Then another. Air came in jagged, as if his lungs were resisting.
‹ Say it. Say it and get it over with. Better to know now if he hates me. ›
‹ Better now than later, when it'll hurt more. ›
"I was a NEET. That's... that's the clean version. The one you can tell people without them spitting at you. The truth is worse."
Daiki watched his brother tremble with the weight of what he was about to confess.
"I didn't go to my parents' funeral." Rudeus began. "My siblings came to get me. They knocked on my room door..."
He paused.
"I screamed at them to leave me alone. I was... I was watching content..." His voice broke. "At our goddamn parents' funeral, I was..."
He didn't finish the sentence. Didn't need to.
‹ Ah, brother...› Daiki thought.
"My siblings broke down the door. They saw me. Saw the room. The... the images on my computer."
"They dragged me outside. Literally dragged me across the floor like a dog. Called me scum. Waste. A disgrace to the family."
"And they were right." Rudeus continued. "They were absolutely right. I was... I was exactly what they said."
Even Daiki felt that blow. That revelation.
‹ Shit ›
Rudeus was crying openly now.
"My siblings kicked me out when they found out. Told me never to come back. And..." he breathed raggedly. "And I understood. I understood them completely. I deserved every word. Every hit. Absolutely everything."
"And that day... that goddamn day when I left... Those students. I saw them. Three high school kids. The truck losing control. And for the first time in my miserable life, I did something. ONE good thing."
"I pushed them... And the truck hit me instead."
"So yeah." Rudeus finally looked at Daiki, his eyes red and swollen. "I died heroically. One good deed. After years of being absolute human trash."
"And now you know. You know what kind of scum shared a womb with you. What kind of thing sleeps a meter away from you every night."
He closed his eyes, waiting.
Waiting for the disgust. The rejection.
Like his siblings.
Like everyone in his previous life.
‹ Come on. Do it. Tell me I'm disgusting. That you'll keep me away from Zenith and Paul. That you can't stand to look at me. ›
Instead, he felt small arms around him.
A hug, somewhat awkward, even uncomfortable, but real.
Daiki hugged his brother as he sobbed against his shoulder.
[RESPONSE?]
‹ Give him a moment. ›
He said nothing for a long while.
Finally, when Rudeus's sobs calmed...
"Rudeus. Look at me."
Rudeus raised his head slowly, hesitantly, and his eyes met his brother's crimson ones.
"That Rudeus." Daiki said in Japanese. "The thirty-four-year-old. The NEET..."
"He's dead. Died under that truck. Paid for his mistakes with his life. And in his last moment he did something good. Something that mattered."
"But that doesn't erase..."
"It doesn't erase it. It never will."
"Even so, that Rudeus died. And the one who's here, in my arms... that's my brother: Rudeus Greyrat. With a whole life ahead of him."
"But I'm still me..."
"You're you with a second chance. You think I don't carry my own shit? You think my life was perfect?"
Rudeus stared at him, waiting.
Daiki sighed. He didn't want to do this. Never wanted to talk about it. But if Rudeus had the courage to confess his demons, he owed him the same.
"I was nine when I lost my parents." The words came out harsher than he intended. "Fire. I watched them die, Rudeus. Heard their screams as the fire consumed them. Tried to get in, but someone stopped me."
"They put me in an adoption center." Daiki continued, looking at the wall. "Families came on Saturdays. They'd look at me. See a 'handsome,' 'smart' kid. But then they'd look into my eyes."
"And what did they see?" Rudeus whispered.
"Nothing. They saw a kid who stared at corners for hours. Who didn't blink. Who didn't react. An empty shell in human form."
"Daiki..."
"I'm not finished yet," he interrupted. "One day, in the center's yard, I saw some kids bullying another kid. Five against one. And something in my head just... clicked. When I came to, the leader was on the ground. His arm bent at an unnatural angle. The other four looked at me like I was a monster. And they called me that. 'Monster.'"
[TRAUMATIC MEMORY DETECTED]
"From then on, everything got worse. I became... efficient. Too good at everything I did. Kendo, martial arts, anything involving fighting. People called me a prodigy. Genius."
"But the truth is, I'd become a machine. My mother had taught me that 'the strong exist to protect the weak.' And I turned those words into my only reason for existing."
"I forgot my father's words: 'Live your own life.' Erased them completely. Because living meant feeling. And feeling hurt too much."
Rudeus watched Daiki with a mixture of horror and understanding.
"For eighteen years." Daiki continued. "I was an automaton. Saved people. Fought. Protected. But never lived. Never had real friends. Never had a home."
"And that day in the rain, I saw a girl about to be hit by a truck. I stepped in. Just flesh and bone. And the truck..."
He didn't need to finish.
"So no. I wasn't a pervert. I was something worse in a way. I was empty. A ghost in life. Killed many lives thinking it was just, that I was protecting the weak. Maybe it was. But I never stopped wondering if someone was waiting for them at home."
"The difference between you and me." Daiki continued. "Is that you recognize your mistakes. You carry them. You hate them. That means you have conscience. Morality. The capacity to change."
"And in this life." His voice softened. "I've seen my brother be kind. Careful. Loving with mom and dad. Yeah, you look at mom sometimes, but you literally breastfed as a baby. It's... well, weird but understandable."
"The point is... You're not that person. Not anymore. You're actively choosing to be better every day. And that... that counts. Just like I'm trying not to be that empty machine I was."
"How can you say that? How can you just... accept it?" Rudeus asked with a broken voice.
"I'm not going to push you away. I'm not going to hate you. I'm not going to tell you everything's okay... But I'm also not going to abandon you. Because you're my brother. And brothers don't give up on each other. We both have a second chance. We both carry shit from the past. But here, now, we can be different."
"Do you really not... not hate me?"
"Never, brother. How could I? When I need forgiveness myself."
"Daiki... Thank you. For telling me. For... for everything."
"Say you're going to move forward. Say you're going to be the Rudeus you WANT to be, not the one you WERE."
"I'm going... I'm going to be better. I'm going to be the brother you deserve."
Daiki smiled slightly.
"And I'm going to be the brother YOU deserve. Someone who lives, not just exists."
Rudeus clung to Daiki like a castaway to a plank in the middle of the ocean. His fingers dug into his clothes, trembling, as if letting go meant sinking back into the depths. Throughout his entire life he'd yearned for this moment: someone who knew him truly and didn't run away terrified.
His parents simply... gave up.
He became a ghost in his own house long before he died.
But Daiki... Daiki knew him. Knew the darkest corners, the most twisted thoughts, the sickest aspects of his being. Had seen the monster he was. He showed him the rot and didn't back away.
And not only did he hug him. He showed him his own demons. Let him see that he too was broken. That he carried his own scars.
That he wasn't alone.
He didn't yell at him. Didn't push him away in disgust. Didn't call him monster, waste, trash.
‹ He called me brother... ›
"Thank you." Rudeus whispered in Japanese. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"Shh." Daiki rubbed his back awkwardly. "You don't have to thank me for not abandoning my brother."
"In my previous life, no one..."
"You're not in that life. You're here. With me. With mom and dad. With a family that loves you... and I'm going to remind you of that every time you forget."
Something broke in Rudeus's chest. Something he'd been holding for too long.
"You gonna be my therapist now?"
"Someone has to be. And considering therapists don't exist in this medieval world..." Daiki shrugged.
"Idiot."
"Reformed pervert."
"Hey!"
"Too soon?"
Rudeus pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand.
"...No. Actually... it feels good. Being able to joke about it."
As if it were something he could face. Not just a secret eating him from the inside.
"Humor heals, or at least makes the pain more bearable," Daiki commented.
"Daiki, do you really think I can change? Be better?"
"You've already changed. Would that Rudeus have cried over his sins? Would he have felt genuine guilt?"
Rudeus thought about the man he was. The one who rationalized. Who hid behind excuses and fantasies.
"...Probably not. He would've looked for justifications."
"Exactly. Conscience. Remorse. Desire to improve. Those are the foundations." Daiki moved back to his own bed. "The rest is just construction. Day by day."
Day by day. As if it were that simple. That possible...
"You sound like a Buddhist monk."
"Worse. I sound like a self-improvement anime protagonist."
Despite everything, Rudeus smiled.
"Daiki."
"Yeah?"
"I'm going to help you too. To really live this time. Not just exist."
Because he'd seen it. The way Daiki moved, as if every action were rehearsed. As if life were something he observed from the outside.
"Deal, brother."
"I'm going to make you proud. In this life, I'm going to be someone you can be proud of."
"I'm already proud, brother. Now go to sleep before I throw a pillow at you."
Rudeus smiled in the darkness.
A real smile, that tugged at his cheeks, that reached his eyes.
And for the first time in two lives, he felt... forgiven.
Not absolved. Not forgotten.
But forgiven.
And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to start.
Daiki consulted mentally with his system as he settled into his bed.
‹ Analysis? ›
[RUDEUS: HEART RATE NORMALIZING]
[ANXIETY LEVEL: DECREASING]
[SIGNS OF HEALTHY EMOTIONAL RELEASE]
‹ Good. He needed that. We both needed that. ›
[YOUR RESPONSE WAS... OPTIMAL]
[SHARING YOUR PAST CREATED GENUINE BOND]
‹ A compliment, Analysis? ›
[OBJECTIVE OBSERVATION]
‹ His past is dark. I'm not going to pretend it's not. Mine too, I know. I'm not going to pretend otherwise. I killed many lives, monsters, thinking it was just. Maybe it was. But I can't stop imagining if someone was waiting for them at home, if there were children who never smiled again. That weighs more than any reasoning. ›
[AFFIRMATIVE. BUT YOUR ASSESSMENT IS CORRECT: HE HAS CHANGED]
[QUESTION: DO YOU TRUST HIM?]
‹ I trust that he's trying. That he wants to be better. That's enough for now. ›
[AND IF HE RELAPSES?]
‹ He won't. But if he does... I'll stop him. Correct him. Protect him from himself if necessary. Because that's what brothers do. ›
[THAT'S WHAT BROTHERS DO]
[CONFIRMED]
System silence.
Daiki settled into his bed, feeling the emotional fatigue of the conversation catch up to him.
‹ We're both damaged souls in new bodies. Second chance to fix what we broke. ›
[BUT YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO IT ALONE]
‹ Exactly. That makes all the difference. ›
[OBSERVATION: BY SHARING YOUR TRAUMA, YOU DEMONSTRATED VULNERABILITY]
[THAT IS GROWTH, DAIKI]
[THAT IS LIVING, NOT JUST EXISTING]
‹ ...I guess you're right. ›
[AGREED. GOOD NIGHT, DAIKI]
‹ Good night, Analysis. ›
[...]
‹ Wait... Am I having a conversation with you? ›
[YOU HAVE GOOD INTUITION]
‹ Right... You mentioned evolution upon reincarnating. But why did I act that way today with Rudeus? In my past life I thought I was empty, without purpose... And yet, here, facing him, I felt something I didn't expect... ›
[PRESENCE OF FAMILY]
[MADE YOU HUMAN AGAIN]
[YOU HUGGED HIM. YOU SMILED AT HIM. YOU ACTED WITH EMPATHY]
[YOU SHARED YOUR PAIN]
[...]
[DO YOU REALIZE?]
[THERE WERE JOKES]
[IRONIES]
[VULNERABILITY...]
‹ I... I guess so. ›
A mental pause.
‹ Stay quiet now. I need to sleep. ›
[REST, DAIKI. YOU BOTH NEED IT]
[SILENT OBSERVATION MODE ACTIVATED]
-
After a while, this is how Rudeus's secret magic training ended:
It was just another afternoon. Since he'd increased his mana reserves quite a bit, he thought it was time to try an intermediate-level spell. Casually, he recited the water cannon incantation.
Size: one. Speed: zero.
He thought the bucket would just fill with water, like always. At most, it'd overflow a bit. That's all he expected.
But what came out was a colossal amount of water that exploded forward, blowing a huge hole in the wall.
He stared in shock as water droplets fell from the hole's edge and hit the floor with *plop, plop*.
He was in shock, but it didn't occur to him to do anything about it. The wall had a huge hole in it. It was clear he'd used magic. There was no fixing that now.
From the doorway, invisible to Rudeus in his state of shock, Daiki observed the scene. He'd silently followed his brother when he saw him carrying the magic textbook under his arm.
‹ Intermediate magic. It was only a matter of time. ›
Daiki silently moved away from the door just as he heard hurried footsteps.
He positioned himself near the stairs, watching.
"What the hell happened here?! Uwaaah!"
Paul was first to enter. Seeing the hole in the wall, his jaw dropped.
"Hey... what the hell... You okay, Rudy...?"
Paul was a good guy. Though there was no doubt Rudeus had done it, the first thing he did was worry about his safety. Now he was muttering things like "A monster...? No, there aren't any around here...", while cautiously surveying the surroundings.
"Well, well..."
Then Zenith entered. She was calmer than Paul. She meticulously observed the destroyed wall, the puddle on the floor, and so on...
"Hmm...?"
And then, with sharp eyes, she noticed the open page of the magic manual Rudeus had in front of him. She looked at the book, then at Rudeus, then back at the book, and finally crouched in front of him, getting to his eye level, with a gentle expression.
It was scary. Her eyes weren't smiling at all.
Rudeus made an effort to keep his gaze fixed on hers, even though all he wanted was to look away. In his years as a hikikomori he learned this: if you do something wrong and get defensive or resentful, the situation only gets worse. So you should never look away.
In moments like this, what counts is showing a sincere attitude. Just maintaining eye contact, without looking away, already makes you seem sincere. Even if you're trembling inside.
"Rudy, were you... reading out loud what this book says?"
"Sorry..."
Rudeus nodded slightly and apologized. When you do something wrong, it's best to apologize frankly. No one else could've done it. Lying when you know you'll be caught only destroys your credibility. He learned that in his past life.
He wasn't going to repeat the same mistakes.
"Hey, but this is intermediate-level mag..."
"Kyaaaa! Did you hear that?! I knew our son was a geniusss!"
Zenith interrupted Paul with a shriek of excitement. She clenched her fists tightly and started jumping for joy.
"But wait, we haven't even taught him letters yet..."
"We need to hire a private tutor immediately! He'll definitely become a great mage in the future!"
Paul was bewildered. Zenith, euphoric.
It seemed Zenith was thrilled that Rudeus could use magic. In the end, the idea that children shouldn't use magic... was just his own concern.
Lilia, the maid, started cleaning calmly and silently. She probably already knew, or at least suspected, that Rudeus could use magic. And since it wasn't a bad thing, she simply didn't make a big deal of it. Or maybe she just wanted to see her parents' happy faces.
"Honey, we need to post an ad tomorrow in the city of Roa! We have to develop this talent!"
Suddenly using an intermediate spell and they already called him a genius... Was it overenthusiastic parenting, or was using intermediate magic at this age really that impressive? He wasn't sure. No, it was probably the former.
Zenith never saw signs that Rudeus was using magic in front of her. And yet she said "I knew it," as if she'd already assumed it. Without any proof... Well, no, she had some basis.
A genius, no doubt. Even Rudeus would think that if he had a kid like this.
And as always, as soon as they see talent, parents jump to impose special education on the child.
In Rudeus's past life it was the same. His parents thought his younger brother was a genius and filled him with classes.
And so, Zenith proposed hiring a magic tutor. But Paul opposed.
"No, wait! We said if it was a boy we'd make him a swordsman!"
They'd made that agreement before birth: If it was a boy, they'd teach him swordsmanship. If it was a girl, magic.
"But he can use intermediate magic at this age! If we train him, he'll be a great mage!"
"A promise is a promise!"
"Promise, you say? You always break them!"
"That's not the point right now!"
It was then that Daiki appeared on the scene, calmly munching on a sandwich he'd grabbed from the kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, observing the argument with an impassive expression while taking another bite.
Munch munch
The sound of his chewing momentarily cut through the fight. Paul and Zenith turned to look at him.
"I want to be a swordsman," Daiki said simply, before taking another bite of his sandwich. "I feel something... an energy calling me toward swords."
[PARTIAL TRUTH: RESONANCE WITH BLADED WEAPONS DETECTED SINCE BIRTH]
Paul blinked, clearly surprised. Inside he was proud.
"Daiki?"
"Yeah." Another bite. *Munch*. "I've been watching you train, Dad. I'm interested. A lot. You know I've always wanted the sword."
Zenith opened her mouth, then closed it. She looked at Rudeus, who seemed as surprised as his parents by his brother's sudden appearance, then back at Daiki.
"But Daiki, honey, are you sure? The sword is..."
"I'm sure. Something draws me to them. Like... like my body knows them."
"Besides." Daiki continued, finishing his sandwich and wiping his hands on his clothes. "Rudeus clearly has talent for magic. I have affinity with swords. Isn't that convenient? One can focus on magic, the other on sword."
"It's... it's true." Paul murmured, scratching his head. "That would make sense..."
"The promise was for ONE son." Daiki pointed out with implacable logic. "You have two. Technically, both can fulfill different roles."
Rudeus watched his brother with a mixture of amazement and gratitude. He knew exactly what Daiki was doing. He was dividing the expectations. Taking the pressure off.
‹ Thanks, brother. ›
Lilia, who had been cleaning in silence all this time, stopped and sighed softly.
"If I may offer an opinion," she said in her usual respectful tone. "Why not train both in both disciplines? Rudeus can study magic in the morning with a tutor, and swordsmanship with Lord Paul in the afternoon. Daiki can do the opposite: sword in the morning with Lord Paul, and magic in the afternoon."
The room fell silent.
"That..." Paul rubbed his chin. "That makes sense. That way neither falls behind in anything. Excellent, my son will be the best swordsman!"
"And that way they can complement each other," Zenith added. "A mage who can defend himself with a sword, and a swordsman who can use support magic!"
Daiki nodded slightly.
"Sounds good to me."
Rudeus, recovering from his surprise, also nodded.
"Me too."
"Then it's settled." Paul declared, hugging Zenith by the shoulders. "Tomorrow we post the ad for a magic tutor."
"And we start sword training as soon as we have the tutor!" Zenith added cheerfully.
That night, after Zenith tucked them in and closed the door, Rudeus spoke in the darkness.
"Thanks. For today."
"You don't have to thank me. I told the truth. I really want to learn the sword," Daiki responded calmly.
"Still... you knew I was nervous about the expectations."
"We're brothers," Daiki finally said. "Brothers support each other. We already talked about this, remember?"
Rudeus smiled in the darkness, remembering that night when they confessed their darkest pasts. When Daiki didn't reject him. When they both promised to be better.
"Do you really feel that 'energy' with swords?"
"Yeah." The answer was immediate. "Since I was born. It's... hard to explain. Like something in me recognizes weapons."
"Interesting." Rudeus murmured. "I never felt anything like that with magic. I just... did it because it was in the book."
"Everyone has their affinities." Daiki settled into his bed. "You with magic. Me with swords. Together we'll be..."
"Unstoppable?" Rudeus suggested with a small laugh.
"I was going to say 'competent,' but your version sounds better."
Both laughed softly in the darkness of the room.
And so, the household decided to hire a private tutor. Apparently, working as a tutor for nobles' children paid pretty well.
Paul, being one of the few knights in this region, held—it seemed—a position equivalent to a low-ranking noble, so he could offer pay matching the average.
However, this was still the farthest edge of the country: a rural area. In other words, resources were scarce, typical of a frontier region. Not only was qualified personnel scarce, but there weren't even many mages available.
No matter if they posted a request at the Mage's Guild or the Adventurer's Guild, they didn't know if anyone would respond...
Apparently, that was Paul and Zenith's concern.
But contrary to their expectations, someone was found easily and would start working tomorrow. Since there were no inns in this village, they'd be living in the house.
According to Paul and Zenith's predictions, it was probably a retired adventurer. After all, young people don't usually want to come to such a remote place, and court mages have plenty of work in the royal capital.
In this world, only mages of Advanced level or higher can work as magic instructors. So, in terms of adventurer rank, they must be mid-high level or above.
Surely it was a middle-aged man or an elderly person who'd spent years perfecting their skill as a mage. Maybe someone with an imposing beard who fit the classic image of a sorcerer.
"I'm Roxy. Pleased to meet you."
However, contradicting all expectations, a still very young woman introduced herself.